#on the hot search so pls help if you want!

[tarjapearce]

Strawberry Jam (+18)

Dad friend AU!Miguel x fem!reader

Inspired in THIS ask <3 Thanks anon. Hope you like c:

PT. 2

WARNING: SMUT, Age gap, breeding kink, fang kink, choking, rough sex, brief tension, slight fluff.

"Rise and shine, cupcake!" Curtains were drawn out as sunlight seeped in your dim lit room. You groaned in response, trying to cocoon yourself under the sheets.

"C'mon, sweetie. I gotta meet a client in a coupe of hours, need you awake to receive some packages." Silence. He sighed, "I'll bring you some flan." You yawned and smiled. Of course he would, you were his spoiled girl. He had raised you well despite the rocky relationship with your mother.

Someone that had decided to not be a part of your life for quite a while, leaving your dad a good chunk of the responsibility. At least, she provided enough for your college. An agreement that had settled up a long time ago by a judge.

"Make it napolitan, please" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "Oh, forgot to mention, Miguel is coming over to help you."

"Miguel?"

And of course, it had put a toll on his mental health, during the last couple of years. As a father, your father, he was anything but perfect, but he made sure to be there, to always support you. He had met Miguel in one of those support groups for men, and things sort of snowballed from there. Your dad and Miguel had alot in common, single parents, demanding jobs, and unconditional love for their daughters.

You had the chance to meet him a couple of times during college vacations, at first he was intimidating to you. 6'9", a hard look on his face that seemed to only melt away with his close ones, and a hulking muscular figure.

But now, every time you visited you'd find his blue Aston Martin Vanquish parked outside your house, beer in hand, screaming at the screen as a soccergame was on. He wasn't a stuck up guy (Like your neighbors had described him once), despite having flooding money in his account.

His daughter was in one of the best private schools in town after all, thanks to his job at Alchemax. He even got you a lovely gold necklace for your 21st birthday after ruffling your hair, something that annoyed you, since you weren't a child. He had came into your lives' two years ago.

"Yeah,some of the packages are his. He was out of town to get them, so I offered to receive them." The doorbell rang, announcing his presence. Your dad left and you sat on your bed and checked your phone.

Of course, your friends would be always asking about him, one of them even dared to ask if you had fucked him already once they saw you wearing the golden necklace. You knew he was off limits. Mostly out of respect for your dad, and of course, the weird feeling that he just saw you as his friend's daughter.

You stood up to prepare for the day, as uneventful as it would be. Hot shower with sweet smelling products, to then change into a pair of gray sweatpants, bunny slippers and a tanktop, washed your teeth and brushed your damp hair. Then, you came down the stairs only to find Miguel sitting across your dad on the kitchen island, mug of steaming coffee on hands.

"Morning" you greeted him with a pat on the shoulder as you put a bagel into the toaster and served yourself some orange juice.

"Buenos días" Miguel greeted, his eyes following you as you moved through the kitchen. Your house was homey, cozy and perfect for the suburban life. Miguel wore a black buttoned jersey, dark jeans and dress shoes. A black belt accentuating his waist.

"Gotta go then, You're in charge" Your dad spoke, and patted his sturdy shoulder to then leave. You rolled your eyes.

"Anyways, want breakfast?"

"No, Thank you." His eyes were focused on the newspaper before him, that until you bent over to search for jam in the lower cabinets. His eyes were immediately to your rear. he sipped his coffee and hummed. The thin straps of the tank top slid off your shoulder. He closed his eyes, engraving the image in his mind. You sat across him, breakfast on a plate.

"Whatcha getting?" you munched in the bagel, a bit of jam smearing in the corner of your lips. Instinctively, he licked his own.

"Some playground for Gabriela." you nodded as you relished the flavor of your bagel. Licking off, the strawberry jam off your stained fingers. His eyes wandering to the way your lips trapped your fingers, the gold necklace adorning your little neck. It looked almost inviting.

"Glad to see you liked it. Gold looks good on you." You didn't know how his shirts fit him so well without bursting or tearing. His back had been lately the object of your new hyperfixation. You had seen jacked up guys in college, but Miguel was certainly in a whole different level.

"Thanks. It got me into a bit of trouble back in college actually." you snorted and drank your orange juice.

"How come?"

"Well,my friends think that I've got myself a sugar daddy."

His eyes twinkled in amusement, an idea seemed to be popping in his mind.

"Funny they think that when you still keep smearing jam on your face. Come here" He took your hand and pulled you across the kitchen island, even though he was sitting, he still towered over you. You barely reached his chin. He cupped your face, your sweet breath fanned his lips. He pouted as his face inched closer.

"Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa." He mumbled, as he wiped the jam off the corner of your lips to then lick it off his finger. Your eyes went wide, cheeks flushed as you swallowed.

"D-Dad would kill you if he'd see you like this"

"Good thing he isn't around, hm?"

"You're the same age" your voice almost a whisper as he kept cupping your face with a single hand as the other one pulled you closer to him, "You could even be my father!"

Your heart thumped hard against your chest, his warm, coffee-like smelling breath brushed over your lips.

"But I'm not." his hands roamed your shoulders, the straps of your tanktop peeled away under his touch, the fabric slid lower and lower as it hovered over the curvature of your breast.

The doorbell rang. You both froze.

"Puta madre…" he seethed and stood, towering even more over you, "I'll get it. Stay put."

"But-"

"Stay.Put." His finger pointing at you as he disappeared back to the livingroom.

Your mind was still trying to process what just happened. You could hear Miguel exchange peasantries with the delivery man as he received an array of boxes. Your straps were slid back on their original position, and your phone buzzed. "Dad <3" on screen. You picked up.

"Hey"

"Hello, how's everything going?"

"Dad it's just been twenty minutes. But at least the packages just came."

"Careful with a small box, it has some fragile things."

The main door was closed.

"Oh? ok. Uh… You coming home soon?"

"Why, is there a problem?"

Big hands covered your shoulders to pull the upper part of the tanktop down, breast spilled from their confinement. Miguel's hands cupped them and gave gentle squeezes as his mouth kissed your neck.

"N-No, no no. Just asking so I can make-" You bit your lip, drowning a gasp as he toyed with your nipples, "E-Enough lunch for both"

Your hand covered your mouth as his teeth grazed your skin. Somthing you found interesting about Miguel was the fact he seemed to have larger canines than the average people. Whenever he was angry, you could see a glimpse of his pointy teeth underneath his plump lips.

He gave soft love bites, licking the skin. Your skin shivered.

"Ah, don't you worry about it, I might get there until night it seems. Anyways, see ya later, love you cupcake."

Miguel stopped for a moment.

"Love you too." You hung up the call, Miguel removed the phone from your hands and twirled you around to kiss you deeply. His hands fisting your hair to hold you in place as his tongue invaded your mouth with such expertise it made your legs feel like jelly. You gasped as she pressed you closer to his body, warmth spreading all over yours.

Miguel nipped at your bottom lip, and placed you ontop of the kitchen island with ease, bunny slippers falling off your feet as they dangled. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed the piece of cloth on the dining table.

"W-Wait! Shouldn't we better go-"

"Shh." His fingers hooked on the hem of your sweatpants and pulled down along your panties. Smooth skin revealed to his eyes. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds to then ease it inside you slowly. He hissed at the moist and warm feeling, he retrieved the finger back and licked it clean, groaning.

"Riquísimo, preciosa" His hands maneuvered your legs like a toy, he spreaded them to then push them back to expose even more flesh. Your mouth fell open as he dribbled the tip of his tongue around the knub of nerves and then drag it down and up your entrance.

Yelping, you held tight on the sturdiness of the island. His mouth disappeared between your slick folds, your breath caught in your throat as he sucked eagerly at your clit while his tongue flickered.

Your sweet coos and moanings only urged him to hold on you tightly, he moved his head to the sides increasing the intensity of his eating. Your hips grind against his tongue, seeking for relief, but he stopped you, a choked whine from your throat.

"Look at you" He put your hips back on the cold tiles, to then unbuckling his belt. "What would your dad think if he saw you like this?" He pulled you off the island, to then bend you over it. One of his feet, kicked away the clothes.

"All spread for me, eager to be filled up" He slapped your pusy softly as he pulled his underwear and pants down, also kicking them away, "Wanna make him a grandpa?" Your eyes went wide, panic surged through your mind but he pushed your torso flat against the cold surface. His legs separating your own.

His fingers prodded inside once more before coating his cock and as gently as he could, eased his way inside you. The stretching of his cock had you biting your lip and gripping softly at his wrist.

"Ohmy god" you half whimpered, slurred as he filled you completely.

"Estás tan apretada, mami" He kneaded your trembling hips. One hand held you in place as the other one twisted in your lowered tanktop. His hips rolled slowly. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable enough before his hips smacked yours with enough force to make you lurch forward, air knocked out of your lungs. You were on your tip toes. His hand slapped your ass as it bounced back and forth on his cock.

"Such a good girl" he grunted and sunk his nails on your hips, "Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi." His hand freed the tanktop to take a fistful of your hair and pulled back. He had gone to ruffle your hair, to pull it.

Your arching gave him the perfect spot to ram into. So ever tight and hot. You hissed as an array of lewd cursing flew out your mouth. His balls slapped your flesh mercilessly.

"Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?" he clicked his tongue in feigned disapproval. He let your hip go, hands immediately hooking underneath your right thigh and hoisted it up, spreading you like a book, pounding deeper and rougher into you.

Your pants and desperate moanings drowned his growling. Your body felt on fire, a thin layer of sweat covered your body, his torso glistened in sweat. His front bangs had fell onto his face by the constant movement.

You held onto his forearm, contorting your torso up, to see his lust blown face. His hands made sure to hold you tightly, preventing from falling. Big eyes stared at him, too lost in sinful thoughts as he pressed closer, deeper into you.

"Fuck me" You choked a sob as your orgasm approached. Your voice too coarse from the constant mewling.

"Just like this, mami?" he breathed before hoisting your leg a bit wider, you whimpered, nodded and clawed at his arms. You begged him to not stop, your orgasm was around the corner as he rawed you silly.

Your inner thighs and outher flesh were flushed by the constant rough slapping of his hips, the hand that held your leg, snaked its way towards your neck, squeezing tighly, your leg dangled and swayed at the rythm of his thrust.

"Come for daddy, preciosa" he groaned as his thrustings turned erratic and sloppier, slickness rolling down your sopping pussy and inner thighs.

"Fuck fuck fuckfu-" He let your leg go and held you tightly against him. your feet barely touching the floor, your torso once more flat against the cool tiles of the island as he painted your walls white with a guttural growl. It earned him a shaky and loud mewl.

"Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí." He picked you up and kissed you on the lips, "You alright?"

You nodded and panted, legs trembling.

"We gotta… clean up" he nodded with a smirk.

---------------

"Hey cupcake?"

"Hm?" You were sat on the solo couch, browsing through your phone as Miguel sat in the couch nearby. Your dad had arrived an hour after you were done cleaning yourselves. Something that had nearly turned into round two if it wasn't for the fact that your dad had called in to announce he was on his way back.

"Did you cook something?"

"Eh no, why?"

"Kitchen smells funky." Your eyes widened, as Miguel went stiff. You had been too engrossed in eachother that barely had the time to clean after your mess. Your dad went back to the kitchen to get himself a beer. It had been an uneventful evening for him, he was gone two hours but it was good enough for him to get a new sponsor to his remodeling contractors firm.

You shared a nervous glance with Miguel. Your dad groaned annoyed.

"(Name)"

Uh Oh. He only used your name when he was pissed.

"Yes, dad?"

"Look, your… sex life is none of my concern, really. But from all the places you could… do such thing, was the kitchen necessary? And you, I told you to keep an eye on her." He scowled at Miguel. You hung your head in embarrasment as Miguel chuckled with his hands up defensively.

"Who was it?"

"W-What?"

"Whose the guy, so I can talk to him, to not pull this… stunt again. You're better than that, (Name)"

"Hey, relax. Go easy on her." Miguel spoke

"Shut up, O'Hara."

"C'mon, you probably acted worse when you were her age. Remember when you told me about the time you-"

"Miguel, stop." Your face went as red as a tomato and your dad sighed. He looked between you and Miguel, and you could swear the five stages of grief going through his face at the sudden realization.

"You fucked my daughter…"

"Dad, stop!"

"Dad, nothing! Go to your room, now."

"You can't ground me, I'm old enough to-"

"To what? Be a step mom? Fuck older guys that could be your father? You don't know what you are getting into, young lady."

"You out of everyone know that I'll never do something that would put her in danger."

"Miguel, I don't know how your brain works right now, but You.Fucked.My.Daughter. My Daughter! The last thing I want is her being a mother before she finishes college."

"She won't be. That's a promise."

"Damn right it is, cause you won't be seeing her anymore."

"W-What? Dad!"

"I thought you were in your room, like I fucking told you."

"Don't talk to her like that." Miguel frowned

"My daughter, my house, my rules. You need to leave."

"You're angry, I get it. It was wrong of me to cross you like that, but she is old enough to know what she wants. I would never force her to do something she doesn't wants to do." Miguel spoke with his hands still in defense.

"For how long have you… been doing this?"

"It was the first time, actually" you spoke meekly from the doorframe.

"Like, you're always complaining about the few guys I introduce you to-"

"This is different!" you had never seen him so serious and angry.

Silence stretching too long, your dad sighed, annoyed.

"I fucking… I fucking swear, O'Hara. If you get her pregnant, I'll fucking kill you."

"Relax, I'm not making you a grandpa." Your dad's shoulder slumped, defeated.

"Yet." They went tense again.

"Oh my god." Your need to be swallowed by the earth underneath and to spit you away from them only increased as their conversation kept unfolding.

"So, now the surprise has been popped, that means I have your permission to properly date her?" Your dad rubbed his face tiredly.

"I wanna make things right." Miguel glanced at you.

"I've known you for a couple of years, and you've met her ever since she was eighteen. You're not a bad man, but trust me when I say that if this girl, my girl, comes here with tears in her face because you did something stupid to her, we're done. Understood?"

"Por supuesto" he went to your side and pulled you closer.

"And clean up this fucking mess."

He left to his room and left you alone. Of course you'd talk to him later, when everything was a bit more calm. Miguel on the other hand kissed your temple and sighed in relief.

"So…"

"So…"

"Sunday night, at 6 for dinner?"

"Sure."

"Don't worry, he'll be fine. Just give him time to get used to it."

"What if he never gets used to it?"

he kissed your hand

"You'll come with me"

------------------------

Buenos días- Good Morning

Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa- What a messy girl

Puta madre- Fucking shit

Riquísimo, preciosa- So delicious, gorgeous

Estás tan apretada,mami - You're so tight, mami

Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi- I'll fuck you so good that every time you enter this place, you'll remember me

Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?- With that mouth you tell daddy you love him?

Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí - You look so beautiful like that, all full of me.

Por supuesto- Of course.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #female reader #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv smut #spider man 2099 smut

[sinsofsummers]

push & pull

5.7k | din djarin x f!reader

summary: after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. canon-typical violence, but otherwise it's super canon divergent. din is a touch-starved virgin, soft touches, lap-sitting, the helmet stays on, mask kink, din does lots of whimpering, experienced!reader, mutual masturbation, virginity loss (m), praise kink, creampie, brief aftercare at the end. note: look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't crumble at the thought of skin-to-skin contact. yeah. you can't. anyways this is so long and so self-indulgent. pls forgive me. if mando takes his helmet off by the end of this, mind ur business this is sooooo not canon. note p.2: i'm so sorry this took so long but i was hungover. also this was not meant to be this long. so count this as a big fat thank you for 1.4k as well as my bday present to you guys (for my bday.) impaired editing i apologize.

With the light of both suns in your eyes, forcing you to blink the spots from your vision, you brushed a hand across your forehead. The dry, dusty atmosphere of Tatooine was no joke, and you scowled under the cloth you'd brought with you to cover your mouth and nose.

"Figures," you mumbled to yourself, looking down to see a small pile of sand building on the tops of your boots, the wind blowing it into place. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"

Of course, you weren't looking for a resident; you were looking for a fugitive. The infamous Mandalorion, no less. You'd been given less-than-satisfactory information on the bounty hunter and the reasons for such a high reward for his capture, but it wasn't like you had much choice than to accept the job. Despite what you told yourself, you did actually need the money.

That was before you'd figured out that everyone else in the Guild had been tasked with the same job, turning a high stakes bounty hunting gig into a near-definite suicide mission. Something you didn't want anything to do with.

But alas, here you stood, practically sinking into the hot Tatooine desert. You had to keep shifting your weight to keep at least one foot above the surface. You never knew when you'd have to make a quick getaway. There were still a handful of Guild members left that presented a challenge to collecting your bounty, and of course they were the most dangerous ones.

You kicked a foot forward and watched the sand shift, cursing the trouble that was inevitably on its way. You'd managed to bribe your way to Tatooine, where the Mandalorian was apparently hiding from the Guild. And if you had found the Mandalorian, there was almost no possibility that the others hadn't found him.

Because, if you were being honest with yourself—the one task you excelled in—being a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something you were good at. In fact, you were far from it. With luck and just enough anxiety to keep your feet moving, you'd floundered your way through three years in the Guild, searching for a way out just as quickly as you'd begged for a way in.

So you'd gotten yourself into this mess. Wasn't that how it normally went, though? Quick decision-making skills weren't necessarily a blessing if the decisions you made would determine your chances of living past thirty (spoiler: the chances were significantly slimmer).

You rubbed the dust out of your eyes once more and saw some movement in the distance, the subtle glint of beskar blinking toward you as it reflected the sunlight. Gotcha, you murmured inwardly. The Mandalorian was here, and you were going to get him. Not to turn him in, no; you held no loyalty to the Guild and its cult-like policies.

This job was an escape mission. If he could stay hidden, maybe he had room for one more. You'd cut a deal.

There had to be something you could offer him, if not your skills in combat, or stealth, or—

Or simply human mobility, you groaned inwardly as you felt your ankle roll underneath you, the sand softer than you'd anticipated. It'll be a good day when I leave this damn place.

—

It was a wonder that the two of you had survived. You'd hardly gotten the chance to give your proposal before he was aiming his blaster at you, and then at the Guild members that showed up in droves behind you. It was all you could do to get out of the way, knowing you'd be hopeless in the fight.

Now, with their bodies scattered around your feet, the Mandalorian standing a few feet from you with his chest heaving, and his beloved ship somehow still functional, you had your chance.

"You're not...very good at this," he said, the helmet masking his voice in a way that made it scratch along the insides of your ears as it traveled to your brain. "You do know that?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accidental insult than a real question.

You threw your hands up, letting them fall heavily to your sides. "Yeah, I told you that," you scoffed. "That's why I'm asking to go with you. Wherever you're headed."

His head tilted, the beskar shining in the setting suns, and you wondered what his eyes looked like under that helmet. Would they be sparkling with mirth or lined with mockery?

"I thought you were kidding," he said sheepishly, shifting his weight. "To get me to underestimate you." He looked like the picture of careful relaxation, although his blaster was still held tightly in both hands, poised in case he needed to aim and fire.

You couldn't help the exasperation in your tone as you lifted your head to the sky, squeezing your eyes shut and placing a curled fist over your eyes. "Why would I do that when I don't want to turn you in?"

He didn't answer.

"You know that there's only two ways out of this, right?" He still didn't answer you, just held his blaster taut and his head tilted to the side, so you continued. "You killed every Guild member that's left. Now it's just you and I. If I don't bring you in—which I'm not exactly dying to do—those rich fucks that are more powerful than us are gonna come find us."

"Find you," he corrected. "Why would I want to add another target to my ship?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, they probably will. But that's only part of the first option. Either they come for me, and you leave me here, and I die—also something I'm not particularly thrilled to think about—or the two of us..." you gestured with your hands to imitate the pair of you getting on the Razor Crest and flying away from Tatooine and its dusty expanse of a landscape.

"Could be a third option," he said quietly, "if you think about it." He lifted his blaster until it was lined up with your chest. "I might just kill you and cut my losses."

Fear might have struck you, but you didn't have the energy to entertain the panic unspooling in your chest. "That wouldn't be very humanitarian of you. Besides," you insisted, hands lifting to portray the image of surrender, "I'm light. I'm quiet. I won't stay with you longer than I need to. Once you get me off this planet, I'll find a place for you to drop me off."

He didn't answer for a moment.

"Literally," you pushed once more, "you can open the back door and push me out for all I care. I just want out of the Guild and all their dumb shit."

You'd known Mandalorians to be quiet, pious, and ruthless, but something about the way his helmet betrayed no hint to what he was thinking or how he might respond...it made you more anxious than you'd ever been in your life. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "Well...you're not coming with me. Ship's full."

"Your ship?" you said, incredulous. "That thing would be gone without me."

"Damn luck, that was." His voice had gone hard, but his body was still.

This was...partially true. Your mind flashed with a memory of the way you'd accidentally pulled the trigger on one of your blasters, effectively stunning the last Guild member who'd been attempting to strap explosives to the hull of the Crest. It was the only good thing that you'd done all day.

You curled your lip, annoyance rippling off you in waves. Lifting a middle finger in front of the helmet, you scowled. Hope he can see this under all that beskar, you snarled inwardly. "Still counts."

With a soft huff that you could hear come from under his helmet, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "One jump into hyperspace. The first little space rock that's big enough to stand on—"

"Perfect," you interrupted firmly. "I'll be out of you...armor...soon enough."

—

You'd missed your stop about three years ago. One jump into hyperspace had turned into four, and then ten, and...now you had your own spot to rest your head at night on the Razor Crest.

On that first day, you hadn't known the Mandalorian—"Din Djarin," he'd introduced himself reluctantly one day—was still traveling with Grogu, the sweet child that had begun his journey across the galaxy, hiding from the Guild. But you'd quickly decided it was nice to have another partner in crime, to interact with whenever Din was in the middle of one of his quiet days.

As the days had turned into months, and subsequently into years, the inability to meet Din face-to-face had become less frustrating, although sometimes you wished you could sneak a glance at his hands, or his wrists, or something that might resemble the human underneath the armor.

Once in awhile, deliciously, you could tilt your head just the right way and look forward at him when he was in the cockpit, his helmet pulling away from the cloth under his armor. Between helmet and armor, a sliver of golden skin would glimmer back at you, just begging to be touched. Of course, you never gave in to your silent desires.

This was not the Mandalorian way; you knew this well. Even when you felt his head turned toward you, even when you were sure his hands were reaching for you when you needed his help climbing somewhere, you kept your distance.

Well, for as long as you could. Until he forced your hand.

It wasn't long before you were unable to keep your hands away from him; going up and down the ladder on the Crest, or climbing over the occasional boulder on the routes you walked along when forced to take a respite on an unknown planet. His gloves were always rough in your grip, but you couldn't ignore the way his hands seemed to squeeze yours, tighter than might have been necessary.

And you'd begun letting your hands linger on the beskar of his armor for moments longer than you should—his helmet, tracing the indented curves of the spot where his cheekbones rested underneath, or on his chestplate, where you swore you could feel him lean into you, as if pressing your hands closer and closer to his skin beneath the armor.

You stood beside him as he sat in the chair in the cockpit, guiding the Razor Crest through the galaxy once more, aiming for some undisclosed location he'd neglected to tell you. He usually did things like that; you'd learned not to be offended by his unbreakable instinct to keep things to himself.

It hadn't occurred to you just how long he'd been wearing that helmet until you looked toward him again and noticed the soft curl of a few brown strands of hair that crept from the edges, kissing the back of his neck. They were short strands, but they were long enough to wink up at you as they curled around each other, begging to be touched.

"Din?" you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the thought.

He didn't look at you, but he tilted his head in your direction, just a centimeter. It was enough.

"Why'd you let me stay with you?" you gripped your hands together, as if they had a mind of their own and couldn't be trusted to remain at your sides. "I was horrible at any aspect of being a bounty hunter."

You were used to the way that it always took him a few seconds to answer, coming up with an evenly-expressed response. This, of course, gave you more time to stare at the tendrils spilling from the edges of his helmet.

"You were a risk," he admitted with a shrug, the helmet (of course) not betrayed anything. His voice was calm, even as he continued softly. "I have a particular...proclivity for picking up foundlings," he said with a tilt of his head toward Grogu, who cooed at the mention of him.

You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a foundling, though."

If you could have seen his eyes, you were almost positive that they'd be giving you a look that said, are you sure? Instead, he only spoke in his perpetually smooth voice. "You were lost, though, mesh'la."

You still weren't sure what each word in Mando'a meant—he'd been dropping a few words here and there, as if he knew you couldn't interpret them—but you blushed all the same. Before you knew it, your hands were releasing their grip on one another and reaching up to comb through the curls at the base of his neck.

They were softer than you'd imagined; smooth and thick in your grip. "Alright," you said gently, "maybe I was. I never got to thank you, you know."

Your hands were moving on their accord now, silently twirling the curls around the tips of your fingers. You were used to his silent, immobile exterior, so you didn't think he'd be able to feel the way you pressed your hand to the back of his neck. He'd never said anything before that gave the impression that he was aware of your ministrations, so when he leaned back into your touch then, something strong and addiction bloomed in your gut.

When he spoke, you were surprised to hear how shaky his voice was. After three years of hearing nothing but steady syllables fall from his masked lips, you nearly flinched at the stutter in his voice.

"Thank me?" he said quietly. "For..." you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat flutter rapidly in his neck when he trailed off. "For what?"

You pulled your hand away, pretending not to notice the way he shuddered at the loss of touch, his shoulders slumping as if in a pained relaxation. You hid your smirk. "You're not seriously asking that, right? Without you, I'd probably be dead by now." Or worse, you reflected with a quiet pang in your chest.

Din's response was quick this time, an unusual—but not unwelcome—surprise. "And without your perfectly timed luck, I might be without a ship." His voice was thick, trembling with something that might have sounded like desire had it been someone else speaking.

You didn't even think Din had the capacity to know something as heavy as desire. Well, not that he was incapable of feeling desire, just...you'd never thought about what he might do if he did feel it. Would he shove the temptations down, destined to die in the corners of his mind and body?

Your cheeks warmed at your next thought. Perhaps he took care of it himself in the dead of night on the Razor Crest, or on those mysteriously long patrol walks that he insisted on doing alone.

"Yeah, well..." your answer was pitiful and you knew it. But you were too busy looking at the way his body was slumped in his seat, facing forward despite every limb beginning to turn toward you, as if you were a magnetic beacon.

His fingers twitched in his gloves, angling toward you just as his knees began to do the same thing. "Will you..." he trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Mesh'la," he breathed, and he leaned to the side, as if his shoulder was chasing your touch. "Put it back."

You were going to ask what he meant, but you didn't have to. Even with his helmet on, you could practically see the pleading in his body language. Here he was, a devout Mandalorian, begging you to put your hands back on him.

"Please," he said quietly, almost a question. It sounded so unlike him that you wondered briefly if he'd been killed and replaced with an imposter. But by the way that his hand trembled as he took his focus away from flying the Crest and moved it toward you...this was Din.

"You...okay?" you asked, but you obliged his request in return, replacing your hand at the base of his neck. You watched in an unfurling dizzying sense of satisfaction as he reached up his own gloved hand to cover yours, squeezing it gently. "Din," you started, but he shook his head.

"I've never disobeyed the Way of the Mandalore," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. You strained your eyes, wishing you could see beneath the beskar. "I've never wanted to. Not before..." he brought your hand around to rest on his chestplate, and you could feel the pressure of his chest leaning into your touch. "Not before I knew what it might feel like to want someone like this."

Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull your hand away. "You...what?"

His head tilted down. "For once, I don't know how to manage this." He stood up, and suddenly he was towering over you, the cloth under his armor making your fingers itch to tear it off. "How do I manage this?"

"I..." you couldn't hide your shock. "I don't know. It's...isn't it against your religion? It's not the Way."

Din shook his head. "No, it's not." He spread his hand down your wrist and extended it toward your own chest, the leather of his glove seeping into your skin. "But I've also never told anyone my name. Never heard it spoken since I was a child."

You swallowed roughly. "So?"

He huffed a chuckle. Lifting your hands to his helmet, he let your fingers find the divots of the beskar. You didn't miss the way his chest shuddered with a stuttering breath at your touch. "So," he said, "to hell with the Way. For tonight, at least. I need to know you in every way I wish I could."

Such a harrowing request, given the circumstances. But you couldn't stop your hands from tracing the lines of his masked face. "Din..."

"Please." His voice cracked over the single syllable, and it was all you needed.

To hell with the Way, your thoughts echoed his words, and you nodded softly. "Alright," you acquiesced. With one look down, you saw the tent growing in his pants, sending a spike of desire down your spine, settling in your core. "How'll you have me?" you asked.

He let out a soft noise that sounded like a whimper. "Any way that I can," he choked out, his hand returning to your wrist and enclosing it in his grip. "I'll have you any way you'll have me."

You could hardly speak, so you didn't. With a gentle nudge, you pushed him back into his seat. When he sat back, his legs fell open; there was an inviting space between them.

Standing in the spot, just inches from his face, you stared into the black mass of his helmet, hoping you'd get a glimpse of his face. Of course, you knew he would only go as far as he wanted to. If the mask was destined to remain, then...so be it.

With your eyes on his, you moved his hands to your waist, pressing them to your skin and enjoying the feeling of his leather against your body.

He shook his head. "Take them off," he said, again with that whimpering voice. "Please."

You nodded wordlessly and shed his hands of the barriers, heat pooling in your core at the sight of long, thick fingers, his skin finally exposed to you. Returning his hands to your waist, you tilted your head back at the sensation. You were never going to forget what his skin felt against yours.

The melody of shuddering breaths that fell from his lips was unreal, and you wanted to soak up every second of it. Without more than a second thought, you slid your legs over his, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his chestplate. His hands remained on your waist, but he let them wander, curling them around to cup your ass.

The feeling of his hands on your body made you unconsciously roll your hips forward, which released a strangled moan from his lips. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "Mesh'la, please take it off."

You paused. Your hands fell to your lap, and your eyes were wider than saucers in the reflection of his helmet. "What?"

He picked up your hands in his own, the rub of skin against skin an intoxicating intimacy. "Please," he begged. "If I'm going to touch you like this, I need to see you, cyar'ika. Nothing in the way."

You were going to argue further, but you couldn't ignore the pulsing need that was clouding your thoughts, the same need that pushed your hips further down into his lap. It was impossible to miss the way his cock twitched against your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Are you—”

“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m sure,” he begged, and he squeezed your hips under his hands. “Never been more sure, mesh’la.”

This time it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, more to bolster your own confidence than his own. His resolve was clearly rather strong in this matter, and nothing would change his mind. 

With a hand on either side of the helmet, you gently pulled it up and away from his face, hardly able to believe that he’d agreed to let you rid him of his every barrier. For a moment, as each inch of skin was revealed to you, you caught yourself frantically wondering what he might look like. 

Would he look like anyone else? Would he look familiar to you in that way that only lovers can? Or would he be hiding a deformed brow bone or an abnormally small nose or a crude smile?

Of course, you shouldn’t have even worried. When the helmet lifted off of his head and you let it fall to the floor with a hard thud, you smiled at the face that blinked back at you in wonder. With those brown strands that were just long enough to hang down over his forehead, and the matching brown eyes that twinkled with the moonlight in his pupils, Din Djarin was exquisite.

“I knew it,” you hummed, your eyes tracing every line on his face, every strand of hair that clung charmingly to his forehead. 

His response was a strangled moan, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when you dragged a finger along his jaw, then the hooked line of his nose. “Knew what?”

“I knew you’d be one of the pretty ones,” you grinned, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, swallowing his groan of ecstasy.

You drank it down like the sweetest liquor, the sound pulling your own moan from your chest. His lips were chapped and dry from lack of care, but his mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was deliciously shy as he darted it towards yours. His hands stuttered as they pressed further up your chest and felt for your breasts. You weren’t sure how long he’d last; his chest was already heaving. 

“Din,” you pulled back with a grin. “Din,” you repeated when his eyes remained closed. “Thought you wanted to look at me?”

“I do,” he said, his voice choking in his throat. “I do, mesh’la, I just…I think I might come in my damn suit if I look at those lips too long.”

You cooed, letting a hand search for the roots of his hair, finding a home on his scalp. You curled your fingers in the strands and watched his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw go slack, and felt his hips buck up into yours. “You’re so sensitive, baby,” you hummed, your mind running wild with thoughts of what this could mean. 

“Never been touched like this,” he mumbled, voice cracking again. “Feels perfect, mesh’la.”

“I need you to look at me, Din,” you nodded. “It’ll keep feeling good, I promise. I just need you to look at me.”

When his eyes opened, you could have fallen apart right there at the sight of his glassy brown depths. His lip quivered and you almost thought he’d cry, but then he was letting his hand fall from your chest to your waistband, trailing his thumb along the skin there. “Can I?” he asked gently. 

Nodding, you stood up. “Just keep breathing, pretty boy,” you said softly. “I’ll make you feel good. Show you just how good it can be.” You guided his hands to your waist and let him pull your pants to your ankles, revealing the front of your glistening slit to him. 

Din was just starting to understand the drug-like effects of physical touch, so you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward, fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the soft skin of your stomach, breathing deeply as if he were a zealot bent to pray at the altar. 

“C’mere,” you whispered, though unable to hide the growing smirk on your face. There seemed to be nothing more addicting than the sight of the Mandalorian on his knees before you. “Sit back down for me, baby,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. “Take those pants off, they look awfully restricting.”

He nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping his pants down to his knees as he sat back on his chair. It was downright sinful—the beskar on his chest but his helmet removed and his cock springing free, the tip red and angry and leaking. “Please,” he begged. “I—”

“I know,” you breathed, stepping closer to him. “We’re gonna make each other feel good now, yeah?”

Din nodded once more, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please, please.”

Well, how were you going to deny him then? 

You straddled him once more, your clit throbbing at the sight of his cock underneath you. But rather than shock him with the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth, you hovered over him, just enough that the head of his cock lay just an inch from your entrance. 

“Mesh’la,” he begged, “please don’t tease. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good, I swear to everything I’ve ever believed in—”

A finger pressed to his lips, you shook your head. “I know,” you repeated. “Deep breaths for me, Din.” 

He inhaled sharply and shoved his breath out of his chest. For a moment, his eyes cleared. 

“Good,” you encouraged him, relishing in the look of his wide eyes at the praise. “Such a pretty boy, baby.” You moved his hand to your core, guiding his fingers to your clit. “Rub little circles for me, baby. Make me feel good and I’ll make you feel good.”

He obliged quickly, rubbing tentative circles to your clit in a way that had you smiling gently, loving the sacrilege you were participating in. “Is that g—oh!”

Din’s question was interrupted by your hand reaching down to grip his cock, delivering a quick stroke and making his hips stutter. He tried his best to lift his hips from the chair, clearly aiming for your entrance, but one hand on the beskar on his chest had him sitting back. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “just like that. Just touch me for a while.”

Ever the gentleman, Din kept his eyes on you and his hand on your pussy, pulling sweet sounds from your lips just as you wrecked him beneath you. Your thumb slid against his tip and he almost came; you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between his teeth. 

You wanted his fingers to wander toward your dripping entrance, but you knew he might not last long enough for any more foreplay. Next time, you thought smugly. 

Now…now you needed him inside you. 

“Gentle, baby,” you reminded him when he gripped your hip too tightly. You didn’t want to tell him you enjoyed the near-bruising strength; that would be for another time. You could already see that you were close to losing him, and you weren’t going to end this experience without riding him until the both of you saw stars. “One more deep breath, yeah?” 

He was a mess of tumbling words in Mando’a that you didn’t understand, and his brow was furiously furrowed, as if it was taking all of his focus not to come on your hand. As a matter of fact, it probably was taking all of his focus. “Please, mesh’la,” he said again. 

You wondered briefly if you’d begin answering that now; treating it as your name. Mesh’la. 

“Deep breath, baby,” you reminded him, and when he obeyed, you sank your hips towards his. The tip of his cock slid in with no resistance; you were wetter than you’d ever been in your life. “Good boy,” you moaned as you kept your hand on his neck, softly cupping the underside of his jaw to look at you. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

The stretch of his cock inside you was delicious, and pleasure licked sharply at your insides, begging for a quick release. You knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together much longer based on the whimpers that still crumbled from his throat, broken and jagged. 

“So fuckin’ pretty?” he repeated, his voice a high squeak. He gripped your hips and threw his head back. “So fuckin’ pretty for you?”

Your breath rushed out of your chest in a strong blow and you had to take a deep breath yourself to calm down. “All for me, Din, that’s it,” you continued, and you lifted your hips up. Dropping them back into his lap, you soaked up the feeling of being filled so completely by his cock. With every shred of patience left in your body, you pushed your lips back to his and tasted his moans on his tongue. 

His hips began lifting into your own, the only clue you’d get to his desperation for more. Without a word, you began moving faster, more rhythmically, as you bounced gently on his cock. With the base of his cock pulsing against your clit at every drop of your hips, you were approaching that edge quicker and quicker. “Din,” you moaned, “baby, I’m gonna—”

“Please,” he said, “I want you to feel good, mesh’la. Use me, please, use me, please…”

You were sure your brain short circuited. With no more patience left in your bones, you picked up the pace and chased your own orgasm, knowing he wasn’t far behind. With every squelch of your pussy on his cock, your moans became less coherent, and you leaned your head forward against his neck. 

Pulling back to press a kiss to his jaw, you felt his loins tense beneath you. Something nearly snapped inside you at the sound and sight and sensation of his pleasure so close to release; at the knowledge that it was you who had done this to him. “Good,” you mumbled against his jaw, getting closer to his ear. “Pretty boy, just for me,” you mumbled. 

Din’s chest tightened and his moans became longer and more high-pitched, true whimpers if you’d ever heard one. “Mesh’la,” he begged, “Mesh’la, I—”

You dipped your head down and, while grinding your hips back and forth on his cock at a feverish pace, you darted your tongue out to his neck. Licking a stripe from the crevice of his neck to the spot just behind the soft part of his ear, you groaned in his ear as you crumbled on him, releasing the tension in your body as you came hard.

Din was ruined beneath you, with his neck bobbing and his eyes shut, his head thrown back. Mouth opened in a wide moan, his voice broken over the sound, you felt his release sink into your fluttering walls. He let out a deep cry of words that you didn’t recognize, but you blushed all the same. With the way that his eyes glossed over when he said it, you were sure it was something that reeked of sin and sweat and sacrilege. 

“So good,” you mumbled again, “you’ve done so good for me, Din.” Your face tucked itself into the crook of his neck, and you inhaled the heady scent that belonged only to him. You sat motionless on his lap, but you could still feel his head pulse inside you at the overstimulation. “Did that feel good?” you asked, your hand reaching up to smooth down his hair comfortingly.

He let out a breathless laugh. “If this is sin, I’ll want more of it,” he replied, his arms snaking around your middle to tug your chest closer to him. “I’ll never know how to thank you,” he finished, sighing deeply. His eyes twinkled at you when you pulled away to look at him. 

You shook your head. “No need,” you assured him. “Just catch your breath, brave Mandalorian. Then we’ll talk.”

He nodded, his eyelids growing heavier with the expense of energy now catching up with him. His cock had grown soft inside you, but he made no move to lift you from him. “I did well?” he asked. This wasn’t surprising; you’d known him to be quietly confident, but the Mandalorian was never one to pass up the opportunity for someone to reassure his talents.

You grinned and leaned forward to press your lips to his hooked nose, fighting the urge to nip at it with your teeth. Next time, you reminded yourself. “You did well,” you nodded. “Feeling okay?”

He splayed his hands on your back and inhaled near your chest, his face buried into the soft skin of your breasts. “Never better,” he reassured you, rubbing his hands along your spine. “So sweet to me, baby,” he murmured, repeating your own affection back to you. 

The two of you remained like that, just wrapped together in a mess of limbs and sweat and come mingling together. When he began to wince with the overstimulation, you lifted off of his cock but remained in his lap. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his. You watched his lips, plump and sitting perfectly, waiting to be kissed again. 

“What does mesh’la mean?” you asked instead, the word strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.

He looked at you for a long time, bringing a finger up to trace the line of your mouth. “Put your lips on mine again and I’ll teach you,” he offered casually, as if his pupils weren’t still blown wide, his eyelashes still fluttering from the power of his release. 

You smirked. “This is the Way, huh?”

For once in his life, Din Djarin smiled at you. “This is the Way.”

tysm for reading! so glad to be back, i'm sorry if the smut scene seemed rushed and out of pace! again: i was hungover. pls forgive. lemme know what you think!

adding tags here cause i'm going grocery shopping at 8:30pm BYEEEE

this is a good morning fic for @thetriumphantpanda and the aftercare bit at the end was specifically for @cavillscurls i know u crave it girl

the rest of the taggies: @mingiast @iluvurfather @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @dinsdjrn @huffle-punk @tommymilllers @milly-louise @struig @butiknewyoudlinger @alejaa-a @worhols @thegreat-annamaria @easaud @country2212 @sleepdeprived-feelalived @pertinentpostmortem @lailaispunk

#din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #virgin!din djarin #din djarin x experienced!reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian #star wars #star wars smut #star wars fic

[hailbales]

helping hand

warnings: jj maybank! x routledge! reader, dry humping, mentions of drugs, subby jj!!!

summary: jj is desperate and you’re more than willing to give a helping hand..

masterlist , request are open & encouraged!! pls <3

minors dni!

your head snapped towards your bedroom door as a certain blonde boy emerged, a faint look of distress covering his features. you glanced down at your phone, 2:14am. confusion laced over you as your eyebrows furrowed, lips pouting out in the slightest. “what’s up, jayj? is the party over already?”

he closed the door behind him, before he began pacing at the end of your bed. your worry only heightened at that, throwing the blanket off of you to rush towards him, situating yourself on your knees towards the edge as you looked up at him. you tried to reach out and grab his arm to get him to calm down but he was moving too fast. “jayj, talk to me. what’s going on? let me help you.”

finally, he stopped in front you, chest heaving up and down as he lifted his cap off his head to run his fingers through his hair before placing it back on. you stood on your knees, placing your hands gently onto his face to try to steady him. butterflies erupted in your stomach when his eyes met yours and he absolutely melted into your touch.

you kept your voice soft and gentle, pushing down your attraction to focus on him. “what do you need, j? talk to me.” it was then you noticed how hot his skin was to the touch, pupils dilated almost to the rim as his cheeks were tainted crimson. he gulped, adams apple bobbing and you had to pull your eyes away from the sight. “I took something.” he confesses and his vagueness has your eyebrows knitting together. “okay…?”

“a-and I knew I shouldn’t have come to you — I mean, your brother would kill me but I, I just..” he cut himself off on a heavy breath and you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered down your frame, making you squirm inside your skin. “s’okay, j. want you to come to me.” you admitted, thumbs affectionately caressing his cheeks and you could’ve sworn you heard a whimper pass his lips but you convinced yourself you were making it up.

“I took E.”

there was a beat of silence as your lips formed a slight ‘o’, eyebrows raising in realization. his eyes searched yours, a look of guilt and regret in his pretty blues. “oh?” you breathed, fighting the urge to look down at his pants but the urge won as you spot the raging hard on he was carrying, a small wet spot on the front of his cargos. it looked.. painful.

“do you.. d’you want me to help you?” you managed to ask and he nodded eagerly, a slight frown still residing on his lips and your pout deepened. poor boy.

“you wanna lay down for me?” you pushed a stray hair off his forehead, and his breath quivered as he nodded. you moved aside for him, before crawling to meet him between his legs. “what do you want me to do first, j?” you asked, hands gently creeping into the bottom of his shirt to caress the hardness of his abs, feeling him tense beneath your fingers as he breathing heightened.

he looked down at you with soft, lustful eyes, lips slightly parted until they landed on your chest. “can you undress for me?” you gulped but slowly nodded your head, dainty fingers sliding out from beneath his cut off to find the hem of your shirt. “whatever you want, jayj.” you were only wearing an oversized tee and undies so in a matter of seconds you were completely exposed in front of him. “like that?”

his breath shook as he nodded his head, eyes glued to your chest and you bit your lip. “d’you wanna taste them?” at that, his eyes flickered up to yours and he nodded his head. “words, baby.” your own hands traveled up your body, squeezing the flesh in your palms and small groan left his lips, hips jerking slightly. “yes, please.”

you smiled satisfied, crawling up into his lap to straddle him as your hands found his hair, running through the soft locks. his mouth was hesitant at first but when your back arched into him, his hands became greedy as they found your waist, holding you in place as his lips roughly chased your perky tits. you let out a breathy moan when he tugged on your nipple between his teeth and he thrusted up into you, his cloth covered cock rutting against your exposed heat. his head fell back against your pillows at his own action, a loud moan passing his lips. you grinded down against him again and there was another. “fuckk, baby.”

“do you like that, j?” you batted your lashes down at him and he quickly nodded his head, faces screwed up together in pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell. “d’you wanna dry hump me, jayj? would that make you feel better?” another nod, “please, princess.”

“i’m yours, jayj. do whatever you want to me.” he swore he could’ve came right there, a deep growl involuntarily passing his lips from your words alone. before you could process he was pulling your face down to his, pressing his lips against yours with such raw need it made your pussy throb. he tongue greedily entered your mouth and you welcomed it, taking every whimper and moan he would give you. if you didn’t cum at all tonight it would be worth it, hearing months worth of material for later.

you were so hypnotized in his kiss you hadn’t realized how roughly he was rutting up against you until a long whine left his lips, jaw slacking as he pulled back to watch in awe as his shorts had collected your arousal that was pooling out of you.

you took this as your sign to take control, watching the way every nerve in his face contorted as you began slowly, speeding up your movements to match his heaving chest. “are you gonna cum in your shorts, j? huh? talk to me, baby.”

“yes. oh- god, baby. pleasepleaseplease.” he whined through clenched teeth, and you almost felt bad as he struggled to catch his breath, switching from breathing through his nose to panting heavily, sweat collecting at his brow line.

you could feel his cock twitching from beneath you, soft whimpers of muddled pleas passing his lips as his eyes bounced from the way you were riding him to the way your face contorted in pleasure, whimpering with every breath. “you close, j? ‘know you are, can feel it. must be in so much pain, huh?” your lips click together in pity. “my poor boy.”

“mhmm. jus’ need you so bad. always. always need you.” he’s so pussy drunk, he can’t help but let the confession slip out but he’s too close to regret it, especially with the way you moan at his words, rutting yourself faster against him to better please him. “fuckk, j-jus’ like that, please y/n. don’t stop, don’tstop. jesus chri-“

his words are cut short as a loud yell erupts from the back of his throat, erratically jerking his hips up against your throbbing cunt. “ah, ah! yesyesyes, y/n fuckk-“ he has never cum so hard before in his life, it just kept coming and coming, shooting out of him in long, hot ropes. if he weren’t so wrapped in pleasure he’d be panicked from his sudden lack of oxygen, but it only added to it, a heavenly, sloppy smile creeping onto his face.

you could blame the drugs, but he knew it was you. it’s always you. only you could pull this side out of him and he loved it, giving him a thrill he had never experienced before.

while he was wrapped up in his high, your eyebrows furrowed a bit in worry, slowing down your movements to a halt. “j? jayj, come back to me. hey, I’m right here, baby.” when his eyes met yours again, there wasn’t a thought behind those pretty blues and you grinned. he was still panting, struggling to catch his breath and you were careful as you crawled off of him, coming to his side to cup his jaw.

“you okay? was I too much?” If it weren’t for how concerned you looked as you asked, he would’ve laughed. too much. as if you hadn’t just dommed the fuck out of him. his grin was like no other. cloud nine was all he could think to describe the feeling.“no, baby. you were perfect. thank you, that was-“

he trailed off as he glanced over you, face falling the slightest. “shit. did you-.. did you not cum?”

you giggled in the slightest, as if the noises he made alone couldn’t of got you off . no, you wanted this to be about him.

“next time, jayj.”

“next time?” his voice was excited, hopeful and your pulse fluttered. he had no clue.

“you think I’m letting you go after that?”

#jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks fluff #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow fluff #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #jj maybank imagine

[luveline]

could I get some miguel aftercare pls 🙏🙏🙏

cw suggestive content mdni !! I actually loved writing this it was the highlight of my day, thank you for requesting. fem, 1k

“You’re doing that thing,” Miguel says. 

You’re breathless where he’s fine, voice lost as you ask, “What thing?” 

He smooths his hands across either side of your face briefly. “Locking up. Relax, sweetheart. Catch your breath.” 

You cover your face with your hands but end up too hot, the back of your neck wet with sweat and your face glowing with heat. Miguel laughs softly, blowing cool air up and down your face where he lays beside you. 

He’d usually call you cariño or some other pet name in his native tongue, so sweetheart is out of the blue but no less affectionate. You close your eyes against his cold breath and slouch toward him, where you’re quickly held in his arms again, his voice quieter as he asks, “You okay?” 

“Mm.”

“Yeah?” He works the soft cup of your bra back down over your chest, pressing a kiss to the hill of your breast. “You sure?” he asks, your skin warmed by his breath. 

You curl down around him, trying to keep him there, your face in his hair and your knee sliding up his thigh as you turn onto your side. 

You’re hot all over and aching, but not unhappy. You walk a careful path up his chest and shoulder to his neck, your fingers brushing over the soft surface of his skin one centimetre at a time, not dragging, just touching, searching for his face. You hold his cheek in your hand and kiss his hair, not caring if it’s slightly ineffectual. He’ll know what you’re trying to convey either way. 

Sex with Miguel nearly always leaves you like this. More than satisfied, desperate to be hugged, and desperate to impress upon him how much he means to you if the sex hadn’t already. Your hand moves with him as he lifts his head to yours, eyes aligned, the familiar hint of a smile playing on his lips. 

“You want me to open a window?” 

“I love you,” you say, because what you want is reassurance that it felt the same for him. 

His voice is velvet. “I love you. Te adoro. When I look at you… me dejas sin aliento.”

“Tell me,” you mumble. 

“I can’t breathe.” 

You tip your head back with a laugh, “That’s ironic,” you say. 

He chases you there, his nose down the curve of your throat and his hands pressing behind your back, wrapping you in, hugging you and kissing under your ear, bridging the gap again. It’s weird to be so together, to feel like one person and to have that end, but he hugs you and it’s nearly the same. It’s a different kind of connection. It eases your heart, calms your hot flush. 

“You are beautiful,” he affirms. “I just have better stamina.” 

“Don’t say stamina.” 

“You’re jealous of my stamina, and that’s okay.” He smiles into your neck before kissing it tenderly. 

Moments of this Miguel are rare. He’s so happy, you only get to see him as uninhibited in moments of intense connection, though that can be anything with him. A teasing remark as he helps you up the short step of the tram or a shared smile when you lean back into his chest for no reason at all, knowing he’ll take your weight. 

You savour it. He’s got a good heart. 

And a great physique. “Doesn’t count. You got it all from a bottle.” 

His lips part. “Oh?” he says, the slight scratch of his teeth sending shivers down your arms. 

His lips close in a soft, soft kiss. Miguel pulls away from you to sit up a touch, and then he’s caressing your hip and your knee like he can sense the ache, his face pensive. “Do you want to shower, or should I bring you a towel?” 

“Whatever you want to do.” 

“I want to take care of you,” he says earnestly, hand back up, resting on the strip of fat between hip and ass. “But…” 

You look at him. Unbeknownst to you, Miguel’s taking you in, and thinking you might be the most lovely thing he’s ever seen, not just because he’s fucked you and you took it beautifully, or the sounds you made, or the feeling of your arm wrapped behind his head as you kissed him, but everything about you. He loves you and you know that, but he can’t convey it right. And he thinks if he cleans you up he might spend an hour just looking at you, because you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen, all your marks and wrinkles and softness. He’d lose half the night. 

“You want to fuck me again?” you ask gently. 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he denies, leaning down over you. You close your eyes and allow him another kiss. “It’s late, we can’t stay up all night. You’re tired.” 

You hum regretfully. “Yes.” 

“Was it everything you wanted?” he asks. “I can…” His hand trails down to your stomach. 

You laugh under your breath. “I don’t think I can anymore,” you mumble, half flirtation and half aching fondness. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you?” He brings his hand up and squeezes your face, taking another kiss, so many now you can’t count them. 

You smile into his mouth. You’re thinking thank you for being caring enough to think about it, and he’s thinking you’re crazy for not expecting it. Regardless, he doesn’t touch any lower, only dropping his hand and rubbing a sweeping, soothing line over your tummy and your side. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers. 

You peek at him through threaded lashes. “Your eyes are closed,” you whisper back. 

“I knew before I closed them, and I know it now.” He sighs. “Sorry,” he says, kissing your cheek, “forgive me. I’ll get a towel.” 

“It’s my fault, being so enchanting n’ all.” 

Miguel kisses you again. “Exactly.” 

#miguel and spidergirl reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara scenario #miguel ohara blurb #miguel ohara oneshot

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 24] || [Chapter 26]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: not smut but a bit of sexual tension Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ahem ahem ahem ahem

thanks to @lyralein for helping solve a problem I was having during this chapter

and also @st-el-la-luna for THIS brilliance that although I didn't copy or anything, still got stuck in the back of my head and made me giggle and inspired me a little!

Chapter 25: Soap............?

you: simon. you: save me pls. Simon: Location. you: that felt ominous as fuck. Simon: You texted me to help you. Simon: Location. you: oh gosh no simon its not urgent. you: its not even like you: a panic thing you: no danger Simon: Don’t ever text me to save you when it isn’t an actual emergency. you: i’m sorry!!!!!! you: did i scare you that much??? Simon: Yes. Simon: You had me ready to steal a HUMVEE to get to you. you: I’M SORRY! you: i’m just out with my friends for brunch and kyle and johnny came and they’re embarrassing me and i need help Simon: So that’s where they went. Simon: You’ve got this. you: SIMON, THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT OUR SEX LIVES! you: DON’T LEAVE ME TO DEAL WITH THIS ALONE. you: HELP? Simon: Darling you’re dating them, you’re gonna have to get used to this sooner or later. you: I KNOW BUT STILL you: SIMON PLEASE Simon: I’m in a meeting, darling. Simon: You’ve got this. Simon: 🖤 you: SIMON?! you: awwww you sent me an emoji! you: BUT SIMON?!?!?!??! you: don’t leave me like this!!! you: how dare youuuu

He stopped responding so you sighed dramatically and put your phone away, your eyes flittering over the table.

In just 15 minutes, Johnny and Kyle had gone from bickering to regaling your friends with sexcapade stories to talking about your dates, about each other, about the rest of the guys, about work. 

Your friends are, of course, eating it up, how could they not? The lads are charming, funny, interesting, hot…

You want to pay attention to the stories Johnny is regaling your friends about, as well as Kyle, with the retelling of his helicopter upside-down cruise, but… you can’t. You’re still mortified, long after they moved away from the sex talk… 

And it doesn’t help that Kyle has taken your chair and made you sit on his lap while the five of you talk.

Sure, you’ve graduated to regular talk, but that doesn’t solve the fact that Kyle’s cock is hard, straining against the fly of his grey jeans, and slotted right between your ass cheeks, his hands gripping you around the hip to keep you sat still.

Thank God for the existence of Simon Motherfucking Riley (memo to self: ask him and the rest of the lads what their middle names are)...

The door opens after what felt like a torturous amount of time and in strolls a 6ft4 mountain of a man in all black, as usual.

“L.T.!” Johnny shouts and waves him over, as if somehow Johnny’s raucous laugh was missable and Simon might not know where he, and the group, is.

Your friends, of course, immediately look over, their jaws proceeding to drop in unison at the sight of Simon.

His sexy little black leather jacket, black jeans, black t-shirt, black boots… No mask in sight… And, for once, his hair is lying flat over his forehead, loose blond strands just barely reaching his thick eyebrows.

He has to have done it on purpose.

“Hi…” You greeted Simon softly, your face warming up a bit at the sight of him. He nods at you and cocks an eyebrow, the left corner of his mouth rising in a smirk.

Just as you’re wondering where he came from, how he knew where you were, and wasn’t he in a meeting…

“Finally. Texted ye the address like 30 minutes ago.” Johnny quips next to you.

“Piss off.” Simon replies as he keeps looking at you. He doesn’t even bother to introduce himself to Leah and Mia.

“Hear you’ve been embarrassing our partner.” Simon says, his brown eyes slowly sliding up to Johnny then to Kyle behind you.

“Ye did?” Johnny asks and turns to look at you. “Ye told on me?!” He asks dramatically, as if it was the biggest betrayal.

“Don’t look at ‘em, look at me.” Simon quips as he leans forward and rests his hand on the back of Kyle and your chair, glaring right at Johnny.

“Oh, please, L.T., it’s all good-natured.” Johnny says dismissively with a playful smile on his lips.

“Is it?” Simon retorts.

“Why’s it feel like I’m watching a big brother confront a school bully?” Kyle quips.

“Don’t start too, Garrick, you’ll get your dose soon.” Simon adds.

“Si… Please…” You remark and laugh nervously as you look around, your face already burning hotter and hotter. “We’re making a scene.”

“You asked me to save ya, darlin’, that’s what I’m doin’, hm?” Simon tells you before leaning close and planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth, his eyes still glued to Johnny. “So, how about it, Johnny?”

“How about what, L.T.?” Johnny asks, though, you don’t miss the way his eyes are shining at the sight of Simon’s protectiveness… or the way Kyle’s breath hitches right behind your ear, his cock throbbing against your ass.

“If you’re so keen on embarrassing people by revealing private matters… How about we tell everyone about the reason your callsign’s Soap?” Simon quips. Then, he turns his head and, staring right at your friends, he continues.

“A callsign is like an alias we use over the radio.” He explains. “And Johnny’s here is ‘Soap’... wanna guess why? I’ll tell you…” He turns his head and looks right at Johnny again.

“It’s because he’s dropped his in the shower more often than one can stand to bloody count, if you catch my drift.” He remarks, then, he shoots you a little wink.

“That’s nae- You know it’s- You-” For the first time in what must be his whole life, Johnny was left a blubbering mess, stuttering over himself…

“Damn… didn’t know friendly fire was turned on…” You quip, trying to clear the air a bit. It seems to work, because all three of the men around you chuckle at it.

Your eyes then lock with Simon’s, then Johnny’s… and meanwhile, Simon’s also looking at Kyle behind you. The sexual tension is almost palpable…

“I think we should go home, so we avoid any more embarrassment, hm?” Simon suggests and pulls you up to your feet by the forearm, causing you to squeak in surprise at the suddenness of it. 

“I agree.” Kyle says as he stands up too. 

“Well said, L.T.” Johnny adds.

Simon pulls out his wallet and drops a few bills on the table. “For the check.” He tells Leah and Mia. “Nice to meet you.” Then, he drags you out of the bistro.

“It was very nice to meet you!” Kyle tells the girls, making no attempts to cover the bulge in his pants as he rushes after you and Simon.

“Sorry, duty calls. But we need to do this again.” Johnny adds as he scoots across the gap in the chairs and winks at the girls before setting off after the three that have already left. “I’ll make sure to tell you all the hot gossip next time!” He adds loudly before leaving out the door.

Leah and Mia are left sitting there flabbergasted, eyes blinking slowly, before exchanging a look with one another.

“The candle worked too well.” Mia states blankly.

“It did.” Leah agrees. “Do you… have another one?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod smut #141 x reader

[taintedcigs]

— hardest of hearts

“darling heart, I loved you from the start. but you'll never know what a fool I've been.” ‹‹ — florence + the machine, hardest of hearts.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: jealousy has never been your strongest suit. you realize that even better when you see steve and nancy in close proximity. based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.6k+)

warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and making out, they kinda go hard at it for no reason, this is just an excuse for me to ramble abt how pretty steve is bye.

author's note: ohh if u want pls listen to hardest of hearts by florence + the machine when u r reading!! luv that song <3 and again. ignore the corny summary and i didnt proof-read and wrote this shitty thing in 30 mins yada yada!!! based on this amazing request i got from my lolo bean angel @lofaewrites i hope u like it MWAHHHHH!!!!

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Jealousy.

That ugly feeling clawed at your insides, consuming you whole, bringing out the worst in you and you knew it, yet you couldn't help it. Finding yourself powerless against its caging grip.

The venomous glare you threw at the two of them surely had to burn off Steve's back, but they remained rooted to their spot, talking about whatever the fuck, while Nancy lingered far too close to him for your liking.

Her curls danced in the dim light, swaying with each infectious giggle that escaped her lips at his jokes. The sight of her head thrown back in mirth only made your blood boil more with it.

You wondered what the fuck was so funny that he felt compelled to whisper to her, the sight of them so close to each other had your entire body feeling hot, an ugly feeling consuming you whole. The fragile porcelain filled with alcohol threatened to break under your harsh grip.

And of course, you couldn't help the way you act entirely unreasonable when he comes back to the booth.

Cold, a total raging bitch, your mouth feeling hot the more you snapped at him. And he knew, he knew the exact reason for your attitude. Yet, he couldn't help but find it adorable. How your lips downturn as you scoff at him, just because you're jealous.

You storm out to catch your breath and get some cold air, his footsteps fall into sync behind you, because he can see right through the facade you desperately clung to, see the way your doe eyes flash hurt, thick lashes hiding your disappointment behind the anger.

You lean against the brick wall of the bar, the chilly Hawkins air seeping through the fabric of your coat, almost enough to calm you down before you can hear Steve's hesitant footsteps as he closes the distance between you.

He's making you so pathetic.

The concern in his eyes mirrors the ache in your chest, gaze searching yours for answers you were reluctant to give.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, tone merely honey-glazed.

He didn't let you answer, instead following up with a, "Or are you just... jealous?" That stupid smirk lingers on his lips, making your insides gooey, while you wore that scowl as your mask.

"What?" You scoffed, playing dumb, as you crossed your arms against your chest, almost to protect your feelings.

"Oh my god, you so are," he teases, that damned smirk stretching his mouth into a full grin, reaching all the way to his eyes, causing them to crinkle, so pretty that you are melting all over.

"Shut up, Harrington," you murmur, heat spreading across your cheeks, gaze unable to avoid him. Pools of warm honey-toned brown eyes drawing you in so effortlessly.

"God, do you still not believe me?" He shakes his head with a slight huff, shoulders slumping in defeat.

You know exactly what he's talking about, with the way his brows quirk up, and he tugs at his silky hair in frustration.

Steve told you he liked you. A couple of days ago. But you just scoffed and huffed, rolling your eyes in his face.

You couldn't—more so—you just didn't want to believe it. You thought it was too good to be true.

Couldn't believe that he would want you when he used to be so hung up on Nancy. Blame it on your insecurities, or your attachment issues. Or blame it on the fact that you were scared. So fucking scared.

And you'd rather avoid all of it than have him break your heart. It's unreasonable, but to your idiotic brain, you're being logical.

"H—how do you expect me to when you end up doing shit like this?" Your tone is barely above a whisper, suddenly insecure like you're exposing yourself bare to him. You just need him to convince you. And he knows. He finally knows.

"Like what? Talking to Nancy?" He scoffs, like it's ridiculous. To him it is. That you even can believe the idea that he still thinks about her, when all that invades his mind is you.

"Like talking to your ex, the same ex you were hung up on," you reply back bitterly, words burning your tongue as they barely roll off your lips.

He leans in closer to you, almost to make a point. "Were, like you said." He spits in frustration, "past fucking tense. I moved on, so long ago. You know that."

"And she just said hi, as a friend. Nothing more," he enunciates it carefully and would explain that to you all goddamn night, if it meant it would wash your worries away, he meant every word he said to you. He didn't care about Nancy. It was you. And from now on, it was only going to be you.

You were desperate, so desperate to not show him your true feelings, but of course he could see right through you. "Maybe, maybe she did, but-"

He groans, not even caring that he's interrupting you. "There's no fucking buts, sweetheart, I told you, told you that I fucking liked you, that I wanted you, why do you insist on trying to push me away?"

You gulp when you notice how he has you caged against the textured walls, your back hitting the bricks with a soft thud, his breath flushing your already heated cheeks. "I don't—"

"What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” His words are harsh, not in a rude way, only to get it through your thick skull. Show you how much you actually mean to him.

Rough hands end at your side, that annoying strand of hair falling to his thick lashes, making him look so pretty that you just want his hot mouth on yours. "There is no one else for me but you, and even you can't fucking change my mind, yeah?"

"I don't give a fuck about any other girl unless they're you." Words fall like silk from his lips, and they are heavenly to your ears, blinking quickly to process all of it.

And he enjoys it, sees the way your gaze glimmers, cheeks adorned with a sudden warmth as you give him those doe-eyes that make him want to crumble into you, fully.

You nod dumbfoundedly, almost to let him know that you finally believe him, and he gives you a soft chuckle, raising his brows "Are you going to let me take you out on that date?"

His caramel hues swirl hypnotizingly as they gaze into you, so alluring paired with the striking moles all over his cheek and neck, making you wanna kiss him all over. "Mhmm," you hardly mumble, too focused on taking all of him in.

He reaches up to touch your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin like feather, soft but making you flustered nonetheless, the faint scent of his woodsy perfume invading your senses. "Come on, use your words, honey," he coaxes, fingers leaving goosebumps in its wake as you can feel him all over.

"Y-yeah," you faintly mumble, not so confident in your voice when he looks at you all hungrily.

His mouth slightly curves into a bigger grin, leaning in as he whispers "Atta girl," almost making you whimper at his low tone.

You lean closer, urging his mouth to yours. He groans when you sweep your thumb over his jaw, knees giving out at the sound. Soft candy lips brush against yours, so agonizingly slow that the heat unfurls all over your body.

He takes your slight shock as a moment to slide his tongue inside, a sigh of relief escaping your velvety lips. He tastes like beer, and something sweet, kissing you with so much heat that you can't help the way you melt into him, his touch burning everywhere it makes contact with.

He brings you closer, as if that's even possible, bodies pressed against each other, your breasts flush against his hard chest, and you can almost feel his heart hammering inside, rhythm matching yours.

His cherry-pout mouth suckles at your bottom lip, slight stubble brushes against your chin, and fuck, you want him, so much so that you let out a low whine.

You want to continue. Desire runs through your body like wildfire, burning him with you, but once you hear the honks of the busy street, the realization of where the fuck the two of you are hits you, and only then you break the kiss.

Standing outside of a bar, kissing like two horny idiots, a pretty giggle escapes your lips when you meet his dreamy gaze again, his hues resembling mostly black now, both sets of pupils blown wide. Passion radiates from both of you.

"Was that enough to prove to you that I really, really, really like you, sweetheart?" He asks with a pretty grin, lips all puffy and smudged with your gloss, earning more hearty giggles and a nod from you.

"Or do you need to kiss me in front of her? Get all territorial?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, brows raised all teasingly, that smirk returning like it ever left, making you huff.

You elbow him playfully before you fist his shirt, bringing him in much more close proximity, again. "Shut up and kiss me again, Harrington."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fics #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington drabbles #steve harrington x y/n

[maimochies]

⋆.˚ 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : possessive! xavier, mentions of breaking in ig? slight yandere themes, fem! reader

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : eh heh this started out as a jealous! xavier blurp and turned into whatever this is ... (๑﹏๑//) heavily considering delving into yan! xavier more, maybe even a minis series for him but pls be kind this was my first time writing something yandere >·<

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 said that Xavier has the patience of a saint. You've experienced it first hand. You can poke, prod, babble, annoy and shout to your heart's content he would remain unwavering no matter what you tried.

But today Xavier's patience is wearing thin. The more minutes tick by the tighter his fists are clenching and the harder he has to tighten his jaw. His eyes are glued to the clock on the wall, watching with withering self control as the late afternoon slips away, only to be greeted with the slow hum of the city coming alive for nighttime.

You should've been home already... he thinks bitterly. What in the world could possibly be keeping you up?

He knows your schedule like the back of his hand, knows the ins and outs of your day to day life, where you go, who you see, what you do. You've never been out so late before so why are you making him wait like this?

He nearly shoots up from the couch the moment he hears your keys jingling at the front door of your apartment, his boots thudding against the wooden floors and by the time the door swings open to reveal your figure he's already got you by the wrist and tugged you inside.

Your first instinct is to fight, pulling against his grip with blazing fear that this might be an intruder grabbing you but you settle the moment you hear Xavier exhaling your name. He pushes his body flush against yours, makes you take a few messy steps backward until you feel your back bumping against the front door he'd tipped shut with his foot. Slender digits tighten around your wrist before he delicately tips your hand up to his lips, tenderly brushing them across the exposed skin.

"You had me worried..." he exhales, hot breaths fanning across your skin. Your eyes dart from your hand to his face and back again before you shiver a little, squirming against the door. His eyes fix themselves on you, his gaze heavy and pupils dilated, like a predator that's watching its prey, studying it, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "Where have you been?"

You swallow once, twice, trying your hardest to rid yourself from the lump in your throat before you manage to croak out, "At the office. There was some paperwork that needed-"

Xavier stills, like someone just dunked him in ice cold water. He tips his head, strands of star-kissed hair brushing across his brows. "Were you alone?"

You can't place his tone, it's chilly, each letter dipped in quiet threat, low with warning.

"I.... Well, I needed some help with my computer because it didn't want to submit my files so I asked one of the guys from the IT department to-"

Without warning Xavier is pushing his hips forward till they're pressing tightly against yours, bringing your hand up so he could nudge it against is face. He exhales a long breath, even closes his eyes for a fleeting moment, before he gazes at you again. Swirls of darkness greet you, his pupils swallowing the flecks of blue that once resided there. "I see..." he hums.

You squirm again, but this time Xavier pins you against the door with a little more force, leaving you utterly helpless as his hips take an experimental buck forward, feeling the warmth between your thighs.

There's a whimper clawing its way up your throat but you're determined to swallow it down, breaking the intensity of his gaze as you glance around at your surroundings. You chew on your syllables, searching for the right thing to say.

"What were you doing in my apartment?"

Xavier hums, his chest vibrating with the sound before he finally releases your wrist and steps back. You draw a deep breath into your lungs when he does, your skin warm and something buzzes in your chest that you can't place, brushing your ribs and shooting straight down between your thighs.

There's a gentle smile pulling at his lips, a soft curve of plumpness there before he turns to motion to the kitchen where two boxes of takeout is waiting.

"Silly girl," he chides, his eyes glinting with something unknown when he glances back at you. "I brought you dinner. It's important to keep your energy up, especially with how hard you've been working."

"Oh..." you exhale, a small wave of guilt washing over you for being so wary about him, he's your neighbor after all. He's just doing something nice for you and here you are doubting his intentions.

You shuffle towards the kitchen, helping yourself to a serving. Heaven knows you needed it after your shift today.

Xavier slides up beside you, murmuring, "All I want to do is take care of you." His hand lingers on your hand as he grabs his respective box. "You will let me, won't you?"

#xavier x you #xavier x y/n #xavier x reader #xavier drabbles #xavier fic #xavier scenarios #xavier smut #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace drabbles #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #l&ds xavier #lads x reader #lads xavier

[moon-rivr]

after hours

pairing: professor miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: age gap, reader’s kinda clumsy 😭, reader mentioned having glasses, oral fixation, oral (m receiving), intercourse

author’s note: sry this took so long to get out, hope y’all enjoy though <3 (i do not condone student/teacher relationships irl, pls keep it within fiction 😖)

word count: 4.6k

The falling of the leaves and the chilly temperatures seemed to fade away with the stress of your upcoming finals week, the end of the fall semester nearing with each day that passed. While you'd done your part and studied the course material over and over again until you could recite it while making your morning cereal, you were just as panicked as any student would be. The exams proved to be easier than you'd expected, your studying proving effective when you got all positive scores back. Your winter break was mostly full of rewatching Elf and Home Alone with your roommate before she had to go back home, not wanting her to spend the season alone.

You went back to your family's house for winter break, spending the holidays watching corny Hallmark movies and catching up on the sleep that you'd been deprived of for the last couple weeks. It seemed like the stress you'd adjusted yourself to living to had finally disappeared, every fiber of your being just enjoying the feeling of being in the moment without worrying about what comes tomorrow or the day after that. Even your family had noted the change in your behavior after a couple short days, noting that you were much more approachable after you'd had a couple days to relax.

You couldn't help but feel like something still lingered over you despite living in that bliss, like you had still had something left to do. On the last day of your break, you'd realized that in the midst of the chaos that was studying and preparing for finals, you'd completely forgotten about registering for the fall semester. (despite the constant reminders from your counselor) You grabbed your laptop off your desk, rushing to open your school's website to get that done. You managed to get decent professors this semester along with a schedule that wasn't too straining, stacking your classes for two days so you'd be able to have the rest of the week to study/do homework.

You'd selected a couple decent professors after checking their reviews on 'Rate my Professor', only having to select a professor for the genetics course that you had to take. You let out a small groan when you realized that only one professor was available in the building for that course at the moment, all the other professors not even bothering to show up in the search results. You switched to the 'Rate my Professor' tab on your computer, typing in the name 'Miguel O'Hara' in the search bar. his review wasn't too bad at first glimpse, a 2.9 out of a five stars. Okay, maybe not the best, but definitely better than the last professor you had last semester at 2.5 stars.

It was only then that you realized what you were getting yourself involved in, most of the positive reviews being on the basis that he was an attractive professor. Different variations of  "his class is so hard but he's so hot!" popped on your screen the longer that you scrolled, the few useful reviews being a couple pages after the obvious thirst. "Made me cry myself to sleep, would not recommend" was one of the reviews that popped out to you, your fingers coming up to your temples as you resisted the urge to let out a groan. Even if you wanted to pick a different professor, the only course that had spots open for this semester was this one. What the hell were you getting yourself into?

You were sleeping peacefully, the warmth of your blanket enveloping you the way that a tight hug would when you felt someone shaking your shoulder. "What's up?" Your voice came out groggy as you woke up, eyes struggling to get adjusted to the rays of sunshine coming through the window. "Don't you have an eight am class? It's already 7:30," your roommate's words served to wake you up from your slumber, your back practically shooting up like an arrow as you sat up. "Ah fuck, thanks," you muttered, your feet intertwining between your bedsheets as you went to go get up. Your butt landed against the floor after you tried to get out of the mess that you were in, an indication of how this day was going to go.

You discarded of the blanket after figuring out the mess you'd gotten enveloped in, your feet matching the agility of an Olympic athlete as you rushed into the bathroom. While you knew that you were most likely going to be late, you wanted to reduce the amount of time which you were late by. You made quick work of brushing your teeth, the minty taste of your toothpaste filling up your nostrils as it got rid of your morning breath. Your hands couldn't work fast enough to rub in your body wash, your rag almost slipping from your fingers a couple times just from the sheer velocity. You’d even resorted to begging with the shower head, prompting it to rinse you off faster than it was doing.

You got out of the shower to see that the clock on your nightstand read 7:50, confirming your thoughts that you were going to be late. You peeled the towel from your body once you felt that you were dry enough, rushing over to your closet to pick out something to wear. You figured that those comments underneath the website were exaggerating, almost like you wanted to validate your decision for picking out a pair of grey sweatpants. After putting the bottoms on, you settled for putting a black hoodie on along with the first shoes that you found in your closet. In your rushed attempts to get dressed, you didn't notice that you'd grabbed two different sets of shoes, the two of them coming out to be a left.

You had to resist the urge to groan out at your situation, keeping the shoe that you had on before going back to your closet to find the matching pair. Almost as if the shoe could sense your despair, it managed to vanish into thin air when you needed it most. The floor of your closet looked like the aftermath of a hurricane, clothes scattered all over the floor with some shoes landing next to them in your search. You gave up on looking for the other shoe after you made sure to check in what seemed to be every inch of your closet, only to find it under your bed where you'd just been a couple minutes beforehand. While you wanted to reprimand yourself for not bothering to look there first, it could wait with the time crunch that you were running in.

Not only were you late, but you had managed to get lost in the first couple minutes of stepping into the building. Your feet make quick work of going up and down the stairs, your eyes darting across the different classrooms in attempt to find the room number that you were looking for. You were a panting mess by the end of it, and not only that, but it was now 8:15 and you were nowhere near where you had to be. You let out a small resigned sigh and decided to make your way downstairs to the information desk, your foot impatiently tapping on the floor as you waited for the line to disappear in front of you. Your eyes kept darting over to the clock nervously, like with the sheer power of your mind, you'd be able to stop time for the moment.

"Hi, what can i help you with?" The woman at the desk asked you as you approached, your hands almost dropping your phone as you took it out so you could tell her the room number. "Hi, I'm looking for room A143, do you know where I could find that?" You asked her, taking a couple seconds to catch as your breath as your eyes followed the direction she was pointing in. The stupid classroom had been in the hallway behind you. "Thank you," you managed to get out before collecting yourself, pushing your backpack over your shoulders as you retreated back to the hallway she pointed at. Most of your professors had been pretty cool with their late policy so you weren't stressing out too much about what their reaction would be.

The noises in the classroom came to a halt, the only thing that could be heard was the door closing behind you. You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you walked in, their gazes following you as you walked to find a seat. You felt like the newest spectacle at the circus, even the teacher had stopped what he was doing as you made your way through the vast amount of seats. What the fuck is so interesting that they can't stop looking? The class continued with what was being discussed after you found your seat, the subject on the board being about how crucial it is to show up to class.

"Before we were rudely interrupted, I was going over how important it is to be attending class. On time. While the lessons are recorded online, there are some pop quizzes in this course and I do not offer any sort of retakes for those," the professor spoke, his words almost seeming to be directed towards you after the unceremonious entrance you'd made. Well, that and the glare that he wore on his face after you'd come in. Your eyes darted down to his front row, already noticing his adoring group of fans nodding and smiling at his every word like he was a form of a god. You resisted the urge to laugh at the fact, looking back up at the Powerpoint he was explaining in heavy detail.

"Excuse me, can I talk to you for minute?" You heard from behind you, your professor resting his hand on your shoulder just as you were trying to leave. "Yes, professor? My apologies about being late, I got lost on my way her-" you started off, trying to offer him some kind of explanation but he was quick to stop that notion before you had the chance to finish speaking. "Save me your excuses. You'll be quick to learn that the world isn't accommodating to your every need and desire. Now, what I just wanted to say is that I expect you to act like you at least want to be in my class. I don't have time to deal with slackers like you, and if you thought this was going to be an easy A, I would recommend dropping out immediately," his tone came out cold as he spoke, the grip on your shoulder loosening to let you know you'd been dismissed.

You weren't even sure if anything you would've said to him would've been able to change his mind so you chose to leave while your pride was still intact. While you weren't an overachiever in your academic career by any means, you wanted him to swallow the words that you knew he was thinking. The words that he was implying when he told you he wouldn't stand for you being a waste of his time, wanting to prove him wrong and show that you were more than capable of being in his classroom. So you decided to make yourself focus more on his textbook, of studying his material more often so you'd have an easier time understanding what the lectures were about.

In that process, you'd also started making an attempt to dress up a bit for the days which you'd have class for. You'd asked your roommate to borrow some of her shirts, never touching the skirts she kept at the back of her closet. You figured that the shirts in enough themselves were enough to push you out of your boundaries, the cropped material a stark difference to the band graphic tees that you often chose to wear. You wanted to excuse it as it being that you wanted to appear more professional in front of Miguel, but the truth was that you just didn't want him to see you in clothes you'd probably go to bed in after coming home from campus.

You'd been rigorously studying for a days now, your under eyes starting to turn black with how much time you're spending in the library. Your eyes strained as you read the textbook underneath you, having stayed up until four in the morning the day prior to get an assignment done. The desk wasn't something that you deemed particularly comfortable in the moment, but you figured that it would at least be comfortable for your nap. As soon as you let your head make contact with the table underneath you, you could've sworn that thing turned into the best memory foam mattress. You turned on your alarm for a couple minutes, wanting to just close your eyes for a bit before going back to studying.

While you had been alert enough to turn off your alarm when you heard the screeching app on your phone wail for your attention, you weren't alert enough to keep your eyes open after you did. So much for staying awake. Your arms proved to be the most comfortable mattress at the moment as you laid your head down, your glasses making their way down to the tip of your nose. Your break was starting to be longer than you expected it to be, but you figured you'd just spend more hours awake afterwards to make up for the fact. For now, though, the least you could do was enjoy the serene atmosphere of the library and the comfortability of the desk underneath you.

You felt someone's touch against your face, a finger pushing your glasses up to the bridge of your nose. While the gesture felt nice at first, the person's voice you heard speaking to you was anything but. "Wake up, it's already nine," your genetics professor's voice called out to you, your eyes fluttering open in a frenzy as his words sunk in. "Ah, thank you," you muttered, still half asleep as you sat up to face him. You looked up at him in your dazed state, noticing the way that he was already looking down at you like he wanted to make sure you were okay. Or maybe that you weren't high, considering who you were standing in front of.

"I was printing some papers out when I saw you all slouched over the table, wanna tell me what you're doing here after hours?" He asked, setting down the stack of papers as he kept his firm gaze on your own. "Didn't mean to stay here so late, I was planning on taking a break from my studying but my alarm didn't really wake me up," you spoke up, rubbing your eyes as you got adjusted to the library's harsh lighting. You stretched out your arms, sitting up straight before fixing the scattered papers underneath you. You were expecting him to leave afterwards, but he surprised you by picking up the textbook you'd been annotating on.

"I can tutor you if that's something you'd like," he suggested, the string of surprises only continuing with how nonchalant he was being with his offer. "You don't have to do that," you muttered, starting to put your stuff away before you embarrassed yourself any further. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to do it, it seems i misunderstood your lateness as disinterest and I apologize. Please let me make it up to you," he told you, his fingertips barely grazing yours as he handed your textbook back to you. "Alright. I'll send you an email just to confirm and ask what days work for you, professor. Thanks for waking me up and the whole thing," you finally conceded, knowing that this was more of an advantage for you than him.

Your tutoring sessions with Miguel were on Mondays and Fridays which coincided with your schedule, so you could at least give him some kudos for his consideration. "Here, you're gonna mess up your teeth if you keep it up with those damn pens," he spoke out of the blue one day while you were in the middle of reading, his hand extended to offer you a cherry lollipop. "Thanks, I didn't think I was being too obvious with the pen thing though," you responded, taking the lollipop out of its wrapper before sticking it in your mouth. "My hearing's somewhat sensitive, thought it was a mouse in the walls or something," he explained, bringing in a lollipop everytime the two of you would meet up.

"Yeah, there you go. That's it, complete that thought princess," you heard from behind you, Miguel’s praise shooting down to your core as soon as you heard it. You weren't sure what it was about him that made you seek out his approval so much, the need to have him approve the work that you did. You could admit that you didn't understand the copious amounts of thirsty comments left under his Rate my Professor page at first, but with the way that he was talking to you now, it was definitely much more easier to understand their perspective. "You're improving so much in my class, I always knew you were a smart one. Nomas era de ponerte las pilas," his feedback was surprisingly positive as he read through your work, only a couple red markings on grammatical errors in your paper. (it was just about getting your act together)

You found yourself participating in class more and more often just to hear the little "good job's" that he would give you as a result, his attention locked on you as you explained the material based on what you believed it to be. You couldn't help but seek out the way that he looked at you more and more, growing enamored with the way he just maintained eye contact while you spoke like you were the most interest person in the room. You hated to admit, especially to yourself, but you were slowly starting to feel like those girls that just took his course for the fact that Miguel was the professor. Not only would his praise be consistent throughout the lectures, but he made sure to provide you with positive feedback throughout your tutoring sessions.

Your thoughts kept going back to what it would be like to have your mouth wrapped around his cock instead of the stupid pen you'd settled for, your drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth. You would settle for just warming his cock with your mouth, having him use you as some form of relief while he harshly annotated on students' papers. And maybe, just maybe, when he was done with that, he'd let you suck his cock the way that you wanted to. Your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock the way you'd sucked on lollipops, your mouth eagerly taking his cock. You could practically feel your mouth salivate at the image of him cum painting your face white, your tongue catching a few of the drops as you looked up at him.

Your fantasies seemed to come to life when he tapped on your shoulder after he was finished passing out the exam papers, his stare almost seeming to know what lewd thoughts you'd been having about him. "Stay after class for me, will you?" Miguel asked you after passing you the paper, making sure nobody was looking around as he spoke to you. You nodded along to his request, your mind taking you to the filthiest of places as you wondered just what exactly he'd want to do with you when you were alone. You could barely focus on the test that your grade depended on, the fruition of the work that you'd been putting in these last couple sessions with Miguel at the library. You nibbled down on the tip of you pen, your concentration regarding the test at an all time low.

Miguel wasted no time on getting you on your knees after everyone had left, your mouth eager to take anything that he'd give you at the moment. Your spit ran down the sides of his cock as he egged you on, his praise making the wetness inside of your legs grow. "Tan bien que lo tomas, princesa. Least you're good for something other than coming late to my class," his praise had the slightest bit of a condescending tone underneath it, but with his balls in your mouth, you were willing to overlook that small detail. (you take it so well, princess) Your nails raked down his muscular thighs, shivers running down his spine as a result from your overwhelmingly soft touch. It felt like a juxtaposition, your throat roughly taking his cock as your nails gently scratched down on his thighs before one of your hands wrapped around the base of his cock.

His cock pummeled from behind you as you were bent over the desk, tears coating all over the assignments that he'd just graded. "Sigue llorando y you're gonna be the one explaining why everyone's paper has tear marks on it, nena," he grunted from behind you, your pussy squeezing his cock like you wanted to milk all the cum he could give you. (keep crying) You wanted to feel some form of shame as you looked down at the papers, but even that was short lived as you felt his cock push deeper into you.

His hand rested on your lower tummy, the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside of you. "Pussy's practically sucking me in, I'll give you anything you want," he murmured, his hand pressing down on the bulge that had formed with every thrust that he made. Your hand wrapped around his wrist as you tried to push him off you, all while simultaneously fucking yourself back into his dick. "Trying to push me off con lo mojada que estas? Let me please you, just wanna stay like this a little longer," his grip on your hips didn't falter, slapping sounds echoing all throughout the empty lecture hall. (with how wet you are)

You turned to look at him behind your shoulder, the sight in itself almost enough to make you cum right then and there. Sweat beaded across his forehead, black locks framing his face as they stuck onto the sides. the white button down that he'd chosen to wear today had a few of the buttons undone, his black tie loosened as the end hung by his shoulder. You let out a loud moan as you felt his hips snapping into yours, his large hand coming down to muffle your sounds.

"Shh, gotta be quiet for me. don't want anyone coming in and seeing how good you're gripping my cock," he whispered in your ear, your pussy clenching at the way his voice dropped an octave when he spoke to you. A reaction that wasn't missed by Miguel. "That get you off, hermosa? ¿Qué todos vean lo que haces despues de clase? ¿Lo sucia que eres para mí?" His words almost served to mock you despite the decadence that his voice took. While you shook your head to try to deny the claims that he was making, your pussy spoke in higher volumes than your mouth ever could. You clenched around him tightly, a new wave of arousal coating his cock completely. (that everyone sees what you do after class? how dirty you are for me?)

His thrusts were unrelenting as he fucked into you, the need seeping out of his every pore with every kiss that he laid on the crook of your neck. "Could never get tired of this pretty pussy," he babbled on like a mad man, his words coming out as broken sentences as your pussy gripped around his dick like a vice. "Fucking milking my cock, i'm gonna give it to you though. Wanna see my cum running down your legs as you stumble back into your dorm," his voice came out strained, his thrusts starting to lose the steady rhythm that he'd been working towards. You were eagerly awaiting for that release that never came, chatter in the background bringing you back to the present.

Fuck, even your fantasies were having fantasies at this point. Your thighs were practically clenching together at the picture, your slick coating the panties you'd chosen to wear for today. "Are you paying attention?" The same voice that had been in your fantasies had been the one to break you out of them, his fingers snapping in front of you. While you didn't want to add more fuel to the fire that was your delusions, you couldn't help but notice that you were the only student that he'd called out. Hell, someone was playing Cool Math Games right in front of you. "Sorry, I got distracted," you muttered, trying to pretend like you weren't just thinking of those two fingers he was snapping fucking you dumb, his thick digits opening you up as your slick coated them.

"Remember what we talked about," he spoke just low enough for you to hear, the threatening tone in his voice losing all it's power with the images ingrained into your brain now. However, you could at least manage to give him a feeble nod to avoid making a bigger fool out of yourself in his class. He didn't seem satisfied with the response that he got but he let the matter go, going back to the lecture about how cell reproduction and mutation works. You couldn't help but notice that he kept looking over at you, his way of making sure that your attention remained on the lecture that he was giving. You were about to nibble on the tip of your pen subconsciously, only dropping it when you remembered what Miguel had told you about your little habit.

You made your way out of his class before he had the chance to stop you and ask what was going on, blending into the mass of students that were rushing to get out. You were already running through the different excuses that you could use as to why you missed today's study session, maybe that you fell down the stairs? While the lie was plausible, he had a strange way of reading you like the words of his favorite book. Nothing that you said or did went unnoticed by him, little ticks that you weren't even sure you had until he pointed them out. You decided to discard the idea of lying to him, simply settling with 'i couldn't make it' if he asked about it.

You could hardly face Miguel after the thoughts that were running through your mind, your eyes drifting to his lips everytime that he spoke. Not only was the way that he spoke so eloquent, but his lips just looked so damn inviting. You'd tried to get him out of your mind after the first couple times that it happened, eventually just giving up on the mission as a whole. While the dreams that you had started to become something normal that you faced everytime you fell asleep, the impact that they left on you was still the same. Little did you know that while your thoughts were running rampant, Miguel’s thoughts mirrored yours.

You were so close to him, your lips almost barely grazing his at this angle. It would be so easy for him to indulge in a taste of something so forbidden, your lipgloss just begging to be smudged by his own lips. It would be so easy for him to forget the position of power he was in, so easy for him to pretend like he's just Miguel for a moment and you're just you. So, he did and he leaned in to press his lips against yours. The taste of the all too familiar cherry lipgloss overwhelmed his senses the moment that his lips made contact with yours, his mouth eagerly savoring this moment. It was easy for him to forget about anything other than the way that you taste, the way that you feel. Well, that was until he ended up waking up by the sound of his alarm.

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[shootingstarwritings]

Body Surfing Lesson

“’Body surfing,’ is an important skill to learn as fledgling body possessors,” Gerald spoke to the hidden camera, putting on his teacher persona as best he could considering the ciscumstances. “Normally, it takes a lot of mana for us to take over other people, but the body surfing technique involves taking over multiple people over the course of a single day, using their own mana as a sort of ‘surfboard,’ to ride the waves of mana that flow inside of us all.” He inwardly cringed as he spoke, his current body very clearly unfitting for his lesson.

Gerald had no idea who had come up with such awful terminology, but it was far too late to change that. The small yet tight-knit community the possessors in the area had formed needed to have a sense of unity. Too much innocent blood had been shed for shame to hold Gerald back. ‘Far too many of you have been lost for me to get cold feet now,’ he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he continued his explanation for the future viewers.

“I’ve already spent quite a lot of my own mana to possess this young man,” Gerald forced his host to say. What was his name again…? He focused, face visibly tightening before his eyes widened in realization. “Jerry! Huh, it’s so close to my name.” He winced and made a mental note to himself to delete that part of the video. “It was difficult, y’know,” he said, pacing around in Jerry’s underwear with very little shame. He couldn’t help but strut, already enjoying the tight muscle in this youthful form. “I had to float into his cute little butt to take him over.”

Gerald grinned and slapped Jerry’s butt, enjoying the slight jiggling. He thought back earlier today as he launched into a story of how he had taken Jerry over for his class.

Gerald’s misty form had crawled through the apartment building’s pipes, searching for a nice and hot host that would catch people’s eyes while he tried to educate them. Then, he found Jerry exiting the shower and clad in just a pair of new-age briefs. Gerald stared at it in confusion, unsure if this is really what the young ones were really wearing. ‘Am I getting old?’ Gerald had briefly mused before launching himself towards Jerry’s ass.

“AH! Woah, ahhh…!” Jerry collapsed on his stomach, ass facing the ceiling as Gerald’s essence took him over. “Ah, pl-please… help…!” gasped Jerry, his hips thrusting on their own as he lost consciousness.

“Mmm, nice…” Gerald muttered as he sat up. He rubbed his stomach and then his bare, youthful legs. “It’s been a while since I was someone so young. And so hairless,” he chuckled.

“And that’s what happened,” he finished for his class. “It was lucky that this young man enjoys filming so much. Now I’ve got a nice and high-quality camera for this lesson rather than some janky phone.” It truly had been serendipity for him. Gerald giggled as he sat cross-legged in front of the camera, enjoying just how his borrowed form felt so exposed and yet so confident in his near-nudity. “So, I’ve got a dilemma. I want to move on and yet I’m pretty much exhausted my mana supplies—the essence of the soul. Say I even got into the trouble and I have to evacuate for whatever reason. What could I do in this situation?”

Gerald waited a quick second before continuing, “If you don’t know, that’s fine. This technique’s quite advanced. Not even some of our more veteran community members have even mastered it. Yours truly, however,” Gerald paused to place a hand on his chest, making sure to lightly tweak a nipple, “is well-versed enough in the arts to enlighten you.”

It wasn’t a secret nor difficult to figure out the theoretical part, but it was a challenge to divert the flow of energy instead of letting it be lost to entropy. It was similar to having a rush of anger and trying to convert the energy of that anger to something productive. In other words, it was turning anger to passion, turning sadness to compassion, and turning joy to kindness. The emotion behind it was just as important, if not more so, than the actual intention. 

‘Easier said than done,’ Gerald thought. ‘Honestly, I’d have to do a one-on-one with all of these new possessors for them to even get proficient at it. However, just imparting the knowledge would be enough… for now, at least.’

“Now, I have invited my host’s friend to come over soon. Before he arrives, I’m going to start masturbating my host’s body and preparing my mana.” One of the ways that mana flowed was through bodily fluids, with semen being one of the most potent ones. The emotions surrounding a climax allows a large flow of magic to surge through and even be present in the semen that one shoots at that moment of peak pleasure. “I won’t use my own mana,” summarized Gerald, “but instead use this young man’s mana from his own climax to possess his friend, Mike.”

Gerald was about to continue, but bit his lower lip as he heard the faintest knock from the front door. Then, Mike’s voice called out to be let in.

Grinning, Gerald placed a finger to his lips and winked at the camera. “Let the show begin.” It wasn’t difficult to begin jacking off in this youth’s body. Even stroke felt like a lightning strike and even gasp was just fuel to Gerald’s fiery lust--now reborn in this young vessel… for the time.

“C-C’mon in,” Gerald forced Jerry to say. He had left the apartment’s front door unlocked on purpose. With any luck, Mike would get curious and explore the lustful noises straight to Jerry’s room. “Door’s unlocked.” Everything was falling into place. Gerald had seen a few pictures of Mike. He was a cute ginger with a good body that used to play hockey in high school. Though his sports days were behind him, Mike still regularly went to the gym to keep a nice form. “Mmm…!” The thought of taking over another young hunk, one with fiery curly hair that was so much like his own during his teenage years, almost made Gerald cum on the spot.

“Hurry up…!” Gerald hissed. Just how much more did his thick cock need to finally cum. It was such a tease--to be on the verge of cumming but not getting there quite yet. “You stupid fucking himbo, fucking cum already!” Although he was on the verge of running out of time, Gerald couldn’t help but find the verbal abuse arousing as well. “Cum for me, boy. Lemme feel that stallion cock of yours burst all over your hairless, himbo body…”

“Jerry? That you? What’re you doing…?” Gerald could hear Mike’s approaching footfalls, and that only made the whole situation more erotic. Before losing his body, Mike would see his best friend cum all over himself like a shameless exhibitionist. And then, Gerald would do the same thing to Mike. Forget the class or keeping the peace, Gerald could only think of hopping between men and turning each of them into cum-obsessed cocksuckers.

“Hrrngh! Oh god…!” 

Yes… it was approaching. All Gerald needed to really turn this body on as he cranked the cock was a bit of foreplay. His core was beginning to tense, and he could feel himself rush past the point of no return.

Right at the precise moment, the door opened. “Jerry, what the fuck?!” Mike cried out as he saw his best friend beating his meat without a lick of shame.

Grining, Gerald forced Jerry to shout, “I’m fucking cumming…!” as torrents of cum shot high into the air in Mike’s direction.

‘Now, give me your body, boy.’

Riding that climatic wave, Gerald used the large pool mana that Jerry’s young body was shooting to propel his soul forward. Even though all of his own energy was spent, he felt rejuvenated, as though he was 20 years younger, as Jerry came. However, just like a normal wave crashing into the sea, it would not last forever. The energy could not be stored, only spent in that very moment; but that small burst in power was all Gerald needed as he dove into Mike’s body.

“Oomph!” Mike huffed as the force of Gerald diving into his body was enough to knock him off balance. He fell backwards and hit the ground, body convulsing as an invisible, unknowable force began to take him over. “Wh-What the fuck…?!” was all he could say as a cold and numb sensation spread from the tips of his fingers and toes into his core. “H-Help… ohh… please don’t…” Mike reached a trembling arm towards the doorknob, his fingers twitching as they tried to find anything to grab onto.

By the time Mike’s fingers gripped the brass knob, Gerald was already in control. “Mmm… delicious.” Something that Gerald noticed from certain bodies was that they somehow had some kind of spiritual ‘flavor.’ Mike reminded him of strawberries in a shortcake somehow. He licked his lips and chuckled at the light bristle of Mike’s bushy and manly beard. “Trying to be a real man, boy?”

Gerald forced Mike to sit up and then lie on his stomach. “Just a young man trying to be a big boy,” he chuckled as he positioned Mike’s ass high in the air, wiggling his hips the whole time. “But then a real man like Gerald took over my body. All with my best friend’s spunk as a springboard. God, what kinda friend--what kinda man--am I for letting that happen?”

A horrible idea suddenly crossed Gerald’s mind. Crawling back into Jerry’s room, Gerald opened Mike’s mouth and began to suck the remaining cum off of Jerry’s still twitching cock. “God, Mike, you’re so virile. I’m so glad you’re this cumslut’s friend,” said Gerald. Then he realized that he was still supposed to be explaining a lesson. 

Grabbing the camera, Gerald focused it on Mike’s face and began to speak. “Well, did you see that? I was all out of mana, but masturbating with a man’s other body, I was able to use his energy to possess this hunk of meat.” To illustrate his point, Gerald stripped most of Mike’s clothes until he was down to his boxer briefs. “See? And--” he stopped as he heard the front door open.

“Jerry? You home? What’d I tell you about leaving the front door unlocked?”

Jerry’s father. A tall and broad-shouldered man that, from what Gerald could tell from Jerry’s memory, wasn’t particularly fond of Mike due to his… ‘lifestyle.’ Was it due to something repressed? Mike certainly seemed to think so, but Gerald couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Taking a look around and seeing the scene before him, Gerald began to internally panic--twisting Mike’s generally nonchalant expression into a stressed grimace.

‘Shit. His son’s unconscious, covered in cum,  and his best friend’s stripped down to his underwear.  If I saw this scene I’d think Mike was trying to date-rape my son! Don’t think I’ll be able to simply laugh off this little excursion. But… the only way to get out of this would be…’

Gerald had never attempted a double possession, with or without an explosive orgasm catapult. Was it a good thing that the camera was still recording? He wasn’t sure anymore. To be frank, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Loud, boisterous footfalls continued to ring in his ears.

Even in times of danger, Gerald knew he could rely on his libido to get him out. Throwing Mike’s underwear away, no longer caring about maintaining any sense of professionalism, Gerald got to work. Using what was left of Jerry’s cum as makeshift lube, he began to explore Mike’s tasty body with horned-up haste.

“The hell’s that, Jerry? Got a girl over?” Jerry’s father called out again. Gerald couldn’t help but giggle in-betweens his moans. If only he knew.

Mike’s gruff voice contrasted so wonderfully with his high-pitched and needy groans. His back arched and his toes curled as Gerald continued to beat his dick. The other hand freely explored the nice pelt of orange hair that coated Mike’s body.

‘What I wouldn’t give to just have a day with this guy,’ thought Gerald. A few tweeks of the nipples and he could already feel an orgasm building up. Just a few more minute and vigorous strokes and he’d be home free. “C’mon, cum for me…! Just a bit more.”

Jerry’s door flew open for the second time that day, and this time Jerry’s father roared in horror at the scene before him. “MIKE! What the fuck are you doing?! Jerry?!”

‘An audience,’ Gerald thought, smirking at the older man. ‘And not a bad looker either.’

“Hey, daddy-o,” Gerald forced Mike to say. He thrust into his grip, gyrating his hips as though to show off what his body could do to Jerry’s father. “Like the show? Have a seat, I can do so much for you if you want. I don’t mind some audience participation.” To emphasize his own point, Gerald raised a hand with a bit of pre-cum and slowly licked it off--savoring the sweet flavor.

Jerry’s father, mouth slightly agape and expression somewhere between horror and arousal, just stared at Gerald abusing Mike’s body. “Y-You’re sick,” he finally said, eyes glued to Mike’s swinging cock as it twitched. “What did you do to Jerry…?”

“Same thing I’m gonna do to you, daddy!” Gerald cried out in glee as Mike’s abused cock shot the first few rounds of semen. He bit his bottom lip, moans just barely muffled, as Mike’s hips naturally thrust with each shot. As the orgasm reached its end, Mike’s body began to tremble and grow limp as Gerald shot himself out. He rushed through the air and quickly dove right into Jerry’s father through his large chest.

“Hurugh! Ohh, what the fuck…?!” Unlike Mike, Jerry’s father remained standing even after Gerald dive bombed into his chest. However, despite his stronger will, he was unable to stop the tidal wave that crashed over his body. His broad arms gripped the door frame for support as his knees bent from the pressure. 

The invasive presence washed over him, filling him up slowly. It wasn’t unlike the first time his ex-wife had pegged him. The fear that came from being filled for the first time was matched only by the pleasure that followed. Just the thought of that night made his cargo shorts tighten. He knew that he should’ve been afraid and even outraged, but his body betrayed him in favor of the invasive presence. “M-More, please fuck me more…!” he whispered as his grip on the door frame tightened. Sweat dripped from his body as his soul let the tides carry him to a blissful and erotic rest.

“And that class,” Gerald forced his host to say, “is how you use your host to your advantage. Now, this is a more advanced technique, so don’t worry if you find it tricky at first.” Bill, Jerry’s father, was far more comfortable to Gerald than Jerry or Mike. The beefy look and authoritative voice also helped Gerald really get into the persona of a professor. It was like putting on a custom before getting into character. “But, as you can see from my improvised lesson plan, it’s possible to even chain multiple possessions in just one day! Really beats having to wait for the refractory period to end, huh?” He chuckled in Bill’s deep baritone, hands on his stomach as he felt Bill’s stolen body jiggle and quake with life. This was more like it.

And with the lesson done, Gerald now had plenty of time on his own to get familiar with Bill. Maybe Jerry and Mike would like to get involved as well…

#male possession #male body possession #possession #daddy possession #spirit possession #astral projection #this was supposed to be out a month ago edition

[unmarlou]

work song.

pairings. percy jackson x fem!reader.

summary. not even tartarus could keep percy from coming home to you.

lacy says. don’t say anything about me using the same middle pic as my last fic. pls.

· · ౨ৎ · ·

it was the longest twelve minutes of percy’s life.

his eyes were sown shut, fearing if he opened them it would all go wrong somehow. percy was always one to think he would screw everything up.

his fingers were blistered so badly he thought there wasn’t a single part of normal skin left, but nevertheless he pressed them against the doors of the death with every bit of strength he could muster. which wasn’t a lot. in the moment of heat he heard the one thing he craved most in the world, your voice.

come back to me, percy. come home.

he was so sure it was all in his head but it didn’t even matter. sweat was beading down his whole body while holding a lunge at the right side door. he held his eyes so tight he began to see stars - or was he just going to pass out?

no. no he couldn’t. he would not.

annabeth’s screams beside him were drowning out. he searched his mind for anything to cling to, to keep him grounded, to keep him going.

he went back to the same memory he replayed every morning and every night and most afternoons- the first time he’d ever seen you. he could see every detail, from the small beads of sweat on your neck from a humid new york summer to the bat of your eye to the ever-so-small wrinkle of your orange shirt. the way you had glanced at him, passively. twelve-year-old-percy’s thoughts came flooding back, she’ll probably never look at me again.

he was so close to throwing up he was thinking of ways to turn his head so he wouldn’t get any on annabeth, while remaining in his position. he grunted viscerally, his arms and legs burning and shaking with work.

you’ve been so brave. you’re so close, percy.

he threw his head back at your voice. he heaved the greatest sigh of relief, which he probably couldn’t afford but truly couldn’t help - this was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, especially from you. the air was so thick and hot it didn’t bring anything other than more pain, scorching his lungs.

in a feeble attempt at aid, he brought himself to a moment two summers ago. he could almost feel the tuft of the beach towel below his arms. yours and his laughter radiated in his ears; he couldn’t remember what was so funny, he guessed even then you two weren’t really sure. it was just the both of you on the long island sound, unable to catch your breaths. you’d grabbed his arm in the midst, holding on with shut eyes and a heaving chest. percy kept talking, adding layers to the joke, in hopes you’d keep laughing and never let go. he knew even the birds could never sing something so sweet.

that horrible song about piña colada’s and getting caught in the rain had started again for the third time. he’d never be able to go to a margaritaville after this. but this also meant they weren’t too far now.

his head came to rest against his arm searching for comfort that couldn’t be found. his body battled between restlessness and exhaustion. all he wanted was to get out of this damn place whilst also wanting to collapse right here and accept a heroes fate.

annabeth’s hand grazed his shoulder and he lifted his head to meet her. her eyes bore into what was left of his soul, her jaw clenched, and brows firmly knit- she’d never looked so serious, “we’ve made it this far, no giving up.” her expression softened ever so slightly at percy’s anguish, “she’s counting on you. no giving up.”

you were counting on him. of course this was a fact he’d known all this time, but when thinking about you down in the pit of hell, he’d only ever thought about collapsing in your arms like a little boy that’d experienced a burnt tongue or scrapped knee for the first time, the worst pain he’d known so far. but hearing the words aloud was promoting this revelation to his forefront.

you were counting on him. just as you had when on that boat, on that island, the middle of the sea to retrieve that gilded ram fleece and take you home. just as you had fighting back to back in that open field as enemies poured in from zeus’ fist, some closing a circle around you two, the thought of a vulnerable backside never crossing either of your minds, in the acts of protecting your home. just as you had on a deserted manhattan, never once sharing your true worries about losing him because you held faith he’d prevail, and when he did, those final moments on mount olympus where he denied sovereignty because you were counting on him to return home with you.

you were counting on him, like you had been this entire year. on a relentless search to find your stolen heart, one finally yours, and bring him home.

there were sudden surges of anger running through his veins at the realization that absolutely everything had been striped from him- he was literally a ghost of his former self just a few seconds ago. he would see you again, so help him gods. and he would take revenge on everyone and everything that separated him from you.

“i will kill gaea,” he muttered. “i will tear her apart with my bare hands.”

with the elevator shaking like the power of the four corners of the earth was working against it, and it was, every feeling he had, both emotional and physical, was bounding to send percy into overdrive.

what came next was simultaneously the fastest and slowest sequence of events he’d ever experienced. he could see every still shot as it happened: the doors shuddered open and almost took his fingers with it, not even gaining his bearings, dusty ancient air smacked him in the face with unexpected velocity, quickly he saw a shot of leo, gods he’d never been so happy to see leo, then the floor became closer, closer, closer, he knew what was coming and the last thing he could tell himself was, think of her, her, her.

“are you even listening to me?”

he was, he promised he was, but your cheek was glistening in the silver light and your arm was just barley grazing his and your scent mixed with the saltwater, not your perfume, just you, was enough to make him lose track of everything.

“yeano.”

you rolled your eyes, the playful way with a ghostly smile on your lips, the way you always did when he said something kind of stupid, and he thanked the gods he frequently said something kind of stupid.

sitting up in the rafters of the argo ll, wind brushed past attempting to take your clothes with it. he was trying his absolute best to contain himself, to maintain an ounce of normalcy in an otherwise very opposite setting. but he’d be lying right through his teeth if he said he didn’t want to be in your back pocket right now, and stay there forever.

“i’ll just never tell you how much i miss you ever again, i guess.” you faux hurt and he knew it.

finding it in himself to touch you without going crazy, he brought you to the crevice between his chest and arm, “i missed you, too. maybe even more.” saying the last part in a hush, fearing his own feelings.

you were recounting the last eight months, telling him about your nonstop search, never deviating from the task, and in the same vein, conveying just how happy you were to be with him, finally. even if it was bittersweet.

your hand played with his, an action that sent tingles from his back down his arms, as your back rested against his side. the silence was enough for him, perfect even. with newly regained memories still weaving their way through his mind, he knew this was a position you two had sat in time and time before, but it didn’t fail to make his heart hammer.

the feeling of your warmth on his was almost nostalgic in a way, like he knew it, he knew he knew it, but it was so distant yet so comforting he felt like it must’ve been from some dream.

“we’ll be back home before you know it. together.”

and then, the scene switched.

it was hot. and humid. he was eternally grateful for the umbrella overhead, shading the table from the unruly italian sun. you were seated opposite him, but you certainly weren’t looking at him. your gaze was far and away, unfixed and slightly unnerving in his opinion.

he kept his fingers under yours regardless, running his thumb over them with ease. the newly empty chair beside you both was borderline antagonizing, he knew, but before he could pick your brain, you confided.

“i have a bad feeling, percy.”

your croak with the use of his name made blood run cold under burnt skin. you didn’t use perseus, but still, you rarely ever said it unless it was serious, an indication to him of severity.

you weren’t nearly this down seeing annabeth off, of course you were upset but this change to anxiety was after her leaving. “i’m not too thrilled about it either but, she’ll be okay. she-”

the shaking of your head cut him off. you still weren’t looking at him, which added to his unease. he tilted slightly in hopes of catching your eyes, but was unsuccessful. he continued his thumb stroke, subliminally signaling he was here.

he watched your lips contort, trying to find the words to fit. selfish as it was in the moment, he thought he could lean over and kiss you, take away any worry and just be one.

your sigh was strenuous, “something bad is going to happen, i don’t know. i just…”

you finally met him back at the small table in the middle of rome. gods you were so pretty. you sat just outside the umbrella, casting half of yourself in bronze, he was amazed how unaware you were, of your beauty in moments like these. he had to kick himself in the leg to stop from blurting it out.

connecting your fingers with his, a search for comfort despite the sweltering heat making it near to impossible, you squeezed, “i just don’t want to lose you again.”

he reciprocated, feeling confident in his answer, “you won’t.”

and then, the scene switched.

your shrill scream was enough to make the angels cry. to make him cry.

in the seconds it took for you to turn around and try to assist frank, leo, and jason, percy had dove over the edge to catch a falling annabeth. although there was absolutely no hesitation on his part, in no world was he going to leave his best friend to fall, he felt an all consuming sickness at the impending outcome.

there must’ve been words shouted and exchanged all around but he couldn’t hear them over the roaring in his ears, all of his strength being put to use in opposite directions. he could see nico, hazel, and most importantly - maybe most disheartening - you, leaning over the edge.

his mind was working a mile a second, thoughts blaring all around despite his inability to really focus on them. he knew what he needed to get out first and foremost, “the other side, nico. we’ll meet you there. understand?”

his arm was shaking so violently and the weight on his other was becoming unbearable. he didn’t want to have more time to think this situation over, “lead them there! promise me!”

“i-i will.”

that was all he needed from him. his vision now settling on you. if you’d told him a goddess had come down to see him off, he would’ve believed you. his thoughts suddenly cleared, if only for a second.

light poured in from the hole above, illuminating your silhouette. you’d never looked so beautiful. percy felt such shame he couldn’t tell you that. from the look on your face, words weren’t really necessary. you understood, he knew you did. he knew you knew he needed to do this. he felt maybe there was even some part of you that encouraged him to, for annabeth was your best friend too, and you both knew if the fates had it be percy who turned around, you would’ve dove after her all the same.

“come back to me.”

“always.”

and as he let his fingers slip, falling into the chasm, all he could do was stare up at your fading imagine, because if there was a last thing he was to see, he needed it to be you.

the ground was dirty.

he could taste it. not that he was one to go around tasting floors but he could tell it was old and dirty. the stench of stale air was an unwelcome accompaniment. his body was throbbing, a constant pulse from the top of his head to his feet, every time feeling like a new stab wound.

his hearing was muffled, just making out a commotion of sorts, seemingly far away. his arms were uncomfortably spread beside him, from falling to the floor, he remembered. they were sore to move but not impossible.

he just barely had a grip on who he was when he felt a hand. a soft hand, a hand pulsing with life, one that had given comfort at every turn. it was shaking his pained shoulder, while another soothed at his connecting forearm.

he could feel the breath on his ear before the words, familiar and warm, and though he swore to be sick of warm for a long time, he’d never be sick of this.

“percy?”

an ache at the core of his being subsided instantly. his eyes shot open, without second thought, without even a first.

it was dark and hazy, his vision greatly distorted with hooded lids. but that didn’t stop the inherent recognition of your presence beside him. he’d know the curve of your face and shoulders, the feel of your hands and breath anywhere, any time, and any place.

because you were home.

and he had done it. he had come home to you.

· · ౨ৎ · ·

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction #book percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson imagine #heroes of olympus fanfiction #heroes of olympus #house of hades #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo #fanfic #Spotify

[roadkillremi]

HEY!! i have rq!! would u be willing to write abt poly! ghostface (if u dont write for that then do stu) summoning a succubus reader (fem pls!!) to help with the killings or them doing the ritual out of boredom while drunk/high??? PLS AND TY!!

Omg! Yes!!!!! I did some quick research and i hope you like it!!

(if you don't know what a succubus is, think of Jennifer's body. )

Searching

Poly!Billy and Stu x F!Succubus!Reader

MasterList

Summary : the ask above

Warning : MINORS DNI! "Demon ritual", mentions killing, underaged drinking, smut, p in V, unprotected, voyeurism, anal, creampie. characters are 18+

It was another night for Billy and Stu. They spent hours talking about girls and watching TV. They've both drunk any beer they could get their hands on. Stu was laughing at the TV even when it wasn't funny. Billy stared off into the distance as if he was distracted.

"Stu."

"hmm?" He glanced over wide eyed at Billy. Billy leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees.

"I saw this movie... Def by temptation..".

"here we go!" Stu laughed. Billy glared, "Have you heard of a succubus?". Stu shrugged, "Uh the demon girl? Like Lilith with Adam and eve??". Billy went silent, "My mom randomly takes the family to church okay?" Stu took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah okay. What if we tried to summon one?". Stu busted out laughing, "like that'd work!".

"Oh c'mon.. you're not scared..are ya?" Billy teased. Stu knitted his eyebrows, "No.". Billy smiled, "Where's your computer?".

"My dad's office." Stu said looking back at the tv. Billy stood up walking towards his dad's office. Stu looked over and jumped off the couch following him.

"So, we're actually doing this?" Stu asked. Billy kept walking opening the door to the office.

"Yes, Stu." Billy turned the computer on and sat in the office chair. Stu sighed leaning on the desk, "We gotta make this quick or my folks will be pissed about the computer bill.".

"calm down, Stuart." Billy grumbled as his typed quickly. Billy's eyes went wide, "Get chalk and five candles.". Billy signed off the internet and started writing on paper. Stu just stared, "Go!" Billy rushed. Stu left leaving Billy in the office alone.

Once Stu came back with what Billy asked , Billy had a pile of pillows in Stus room.

"What's this for?"

"Her.. it.." Billy took the chalk and drew a pentagram.

"light the candles." Billy muttered, Stu nodded lighting the candles. Billy placed them on the sides of the Pentagram. He then flipped up his hunting blade from his pocket. He sliced down his palm letting his blood hit the paper.

"Stu you gotta do it." Billy pushed the knife towards him. Stu sighed and cut his palm, "she better be hot.". Stu let his blood drip onto the paper.

"what now?" Stu asked looking at the paper.

"take off your clothes." Billy said as he took of his shirt. Stu smiled, "If you wanted to see me naked you could've just asked.". Billy rolled his eyes, he left his boxers on and sat down. Stu sat beside him and waited.

"So..." Stu whispered.

"shut up and relax dipshit." Billy mumbled. Stu nodded and tried to relax his body. Once the boys were fully relaxed the paper lit on fire turning into ashes. Stus eyes widen, "Did you..?" .

"No.." he whispered.

"Of course he didn't I did." You said softly. The boys jumped looking behind them. You smiled, you wore a small piece of black cloth covering your private bits.

"No fucking way..." Stu whispered. You smirked as you walked around his room.

"Was that beer laced?" Billy Whispered.

"I don't think so." Stu responded. You looked at them, "Billy.." you pointed at Billy.

"and Stu.. right?" You then pointed at Stu. The boys nodded, you grinned.

"So.. you boys are known as what the mortals call.. "Ghostface"?".

"How'd.. how'd you know?" Stu blurted. Billy elbowed him, you smiled and sat Infront of them.

"oh sweetie... I know everything.." you gently cup Stus face. Your fingers trail from his cheek to his chin. You smile and then look at Billy.

"Mm. You two don't know much about succubi do you?" You asked softly. They both shook their head.

"Well.. we live off of semen.. and in order for me to protect you we.. bond one might say." You got up again to study Stus room.

"then I'll help kill Sydney." You glance back at them. Stu nodded quickly, Billy just stared.

"How can we trust you?" He asked. You smiled walking towards him, you grabbed his chin making him look up at you.

"Oh Billy.. poor sweet Billy. It wasn't fair was it?... What they did to you. You were only 16 when you found out..". Billy didn't respond, you sat on your knees Infront of him leaning close.

"I won't abandon you.. all you gotta do is call.. and im there." You smile. Billy's eyes soften, "What if you're not?". You tilted your head, "I need you to survive.. both of you. What I need only.. you two can give me..". Billy smirked, "You have dark.. desires.." you whispered. You glanced at Stu, "And you.. you wanna.. be rough.. in way girls don't like.".

"So. The deal is I need semen to keep living. And you have that... Both of you. And i will help with your...chores.". You smile. The boys are silent, "Oh right. Both of you like being dominant.". You leaned back, "Don't be afraid.. I only bite if you want me to..".

Stu was the first to make a move, he leaned forward kissing you. You smiled and kissed him back, he slowly crawled on top of you. You laid back in the pile of pillows, he ran his hands all over your body. You glanced over at Billy who watched intensely.

"I think your friend likes watching you..." You whispered to Stu. He looked over at Billy and then smiled. He went back to kissing you and then your neck. Your head stayed to the side to watch Billy. He tilted his head slightly and leaned close to you.

"What exactly are you?.." Billy whispered. You smiled, "I'm the spawn of Satan herself.". Billy smirked and kissed you. Stu sat up looking down at you, "You're so.. sexy..". Billy also smiled down at you, he then leaned into Stu giving him a kiss. Stus hands slid up your body pushing the fabric up. The two boys stared down in amazement.

"What? I know you two aren't virgins." You smiled. Stus mouth was open slightly as he observed your body. Billy smirked and gently touched your thigh. You smiled as you felt the cold blade bump into your thigh. Billy balanced this blade away from you and watched Stu. Stus fingers slid through your folds.

"Whoa.." he took his fingers out showing how shiny they were. Billy smiled before sucking on Stus fingers. Stu laughed softly, you leaned on your elbows observing them. Billy looked over at you, "Can we tie you up?". You raised your eyebrow, "You can tie my wrists." You offered. He nodded grabbing something to tie them with. He went behind you tying your wrists together. He smiled to himself observing you.

"This is.. unreal.." he whispered. You smiled at him, "Well I'm real so get used to it.". Stu quickly shoved his member in you without warning. Your body jolted and you let out a moan.

"She so fucking wet." Stu moaned out. Billy smirked watching Stu push your thighs close to your head. He held onto them for support as he thrust himself. Billy made you look up at him, "Do you like him fucking you?". You smiled, "Mhm.. best sex I've had in years..".

"oh just you wait.." Billy leaned down to kiss you. Stu continued to pound himself into you abusing your pussy. His head hung low, "Shit!" He shouted. Billy looked over at him, "What?".

"I'm gonna come.. already.." he breathed heavily. You smiled, "Come inside me, baby.. I need you too so bad.". Stu moaned continuing to move forward until he released. His body collapsed on top of you, his head laid on your chest.

"That's the fastest I've ever came..." he whispered. You smirked, "I am a succubus." You reminded him. Billy looked down at Stu, "What if.. we both had her at once..". Stus eyes lit up, "I call ass.". Billy rolled his eyes and moved himself from behind you.

"Get up." He demanded Stu. Stu sat up taking himself out of you. Billy laid down, "Help her onto me..". Stu grabbed your arms and helped you get on top of him. You gently yanked your wrists seeing if you could get out of them. You couldn't.

Billy brought his member into your core as you sunk down. He grunted, "Shit..". Stu smiled widely pushing your body down. He spread your ass as he entered into you. He leaned back and grabbed your tied wrists as leverage.

"I gotta say... I never took two at once.." you admitted. Billy smiled at you, "Here that, Stu? We're her first threesome.". Stu laughs softly, "That's even better.". Billy began to thrust up matching Stus rhythm. Your face was buried into his neck softly moaning.

They continued to use your body for long lengths of time. They collectively came inside of your holes leaving them oozing with their come. You'd whine telling them it was getting to be too much at once. Billy laughed, "Can't handle us?".

You shook your head, "No.." you whined. He chuckled, "Aw.. she's so fucked out of it..". Stu laughed, "She tired from her holes being filled constantly. Did men from the past not fill you up this good?". You shook your head no, they two men laughed.

They untied your wrists and laid you down on the bed. Billy looked over at you, "When will we see you again.".

"Whenever you need me to kill someone..." you whisper. He nods, "Okay..".

"What if.. we miss you?" Stu adds in. You smiled, "Then I'll show up.". The two men nodded, you fluttered your eyes closed disappearing from the bed.

#scream #horror #ghostface #billy loomis #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x stu macher x reader #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x oc #billy loomis x stu matcher #billy loomis x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #stu macher x reader #stu macher smut #stu macher x you #stu macher #scream smut #scream movies #scream franchise #scream 2 #scary movies #scream 1996 #remi asks

[bywons]

𖦹 ICE, ICE, BABY! — PSH

⌕ where park sunghoon takes you on an ice skating date

pairing. bf!park sunghoon x f!reader wc. 0.5k tw/cw. kissing genre. fluff sru's note. requested ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !

the chilly winter air blooms goosebumps beneath your skin, eventually drying your lips which makes you lick them yet again. you wish you had brought lip balm with you to moisten your dehydrated lips, but a kiss from park sunghoon was just enough.

“c'mon, scared of a little ice skating?”, sunghoon smirks, suppressing a small giggle within himself as he watches you hold on to his shoulders for dear life to avoid a devastating crash against the ice floor beneath you.

“easy to say when you're a pro”, you scoff, your body gliding around the ice rink solely by the support of your boyfriend.

your ice skates did a horrible job of keeping you steady on your feet. your equilibrium constantly disrupts you, causing wobbly legs which makes you stumble, loud gasps leaving your mouth. or maybe you are at fault here really, first day at ice skating and expecting to ace it so quick? yeah, not happening.

but what did happen next had you screaming inside, and melting outside. your boyfriend of just four months, park sunghoon, kisses your cheek and paints it deeper, as he shoots the most endearing smile down at you, his hands wrapping tighter around your waist.

“does this help?”, he whispers. yeah well that does help you regain your stability and guide through the ice better indeed, your knees aren't wobbly anymore, the toe blades a lot more still.

but with that mesmerising face of his, not a single brain cell of yours could focus on the ice rink.

“kinda, i still c-can’t do it on my own though”, the stutter gives away your faux confidence and you mentally curse yourself.

“but i think you're doing just fine?”, sunghoon chuckles, letting his grip on your waist loosen up. and when you loose balance without his support again, it evolves to a laughter.

“totally not funny ‘hoon!”, you roll your eyes, your hands returning to his forearms to grip them harder, “why'd you bring me here to show off your ice skating skills and not even help me?”

“well maybe i also wanted to show off my girl at the ice rink?”, sunghoon says with a smug smile, to which he receives another eye roll from you, this time accompanied with a blush as he brings you forward face to face.

“really funny, nobody even knows us here”, you scoff.

“they don't have to”, sunghoon whispers again, his hands clasping the either sides of your face and pulling you dangerously close to his face, his starry eyes lost in yours.

and it's just a moments’ wait before sunghoons lips find yours, falling magically into puzzle pieces. it's soft, stirring and warm, immediately giving you butterflies in your stomach. you don't know how long the kiss lasted but every second of it felt so embracing. just like home.

you are the first one to pull back from the kiss, face hot and flushed from the kiss, and you try to look at his face but he's still looking at you, specifically your lips with his comforting touch lingering on your cheeks. you gulp, trying to hold back his forearms to stabilise yourself again.

but in the search of his hands, you find none on you.

“hey!”, sunghoon squeals, giving you the biggest toothy grin, “the kiss helped you skate huh?”

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @fleumiu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini @haechansbbg nets! @/k-labels

#enhypen x reader #k-labels #sunghoon #sunghoon smau #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon moodboard #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen smau #enhypen soft thoughts #jungwon x reader #jake x reader #jay x reader #heeseung x reader #sunoo x reader #riki x reader #sunghoon angst #enha x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n

[xcherryerim]

Chocolate Kisses

"Who can love you like I love you? This warm and yet distant sweet dream" - Underwater by Red Velvet

Mike Schmidt x gn!reader | word count: 2.3k

- SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | 18+ ONLY! -

Warning: oral sex (to reader, no genital specified), penetration, unprotected sex (wear condoms yall pls) , A lot of teasing, facial, porn with plot (also a bit of fluff)

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing penetration in a gender neutral aspect. If there is any mistakes let me know so I can go back and change it. Thank you!

Summary: After another failed date that makes you feel like you will never find love, you go to your best friend's place (Mike), searching for comfort, but he ends up showing you the love you’ve been craving (and also something big and thick). 

You gripped the steering wheel until your knuckles turned white, tears welling up in your eyes, struggling to keep yourself at bay as you drove through the dark streets. You couldn’t bear the thought of being alone right now and drowning in self-pity. You needed to be with someone who could understand, and that person was Mike.

Once you arrived, you wiped away the tears as if trying to hide your sadness and sorrow. You cried in front of Mike many times, even over small things like watching a sad movie. But he couldn’t handle seeing you cry because of heartbreak. You took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. The quiet street made you even more nervous as you waited for Mike to answer. After a few moments, the door swung open, and the sight of him struck you in all his glory. His hair dripped with water from a recent shower, and the scent of minty shampoo wafted all over the air. The dreamy sight of him mesmerized you.

“Hey… Aren’t you supposed to be on another date today?” His raspy voice brought you back to your depressive reality. Mike’s head tilted as you tried hiding your puffy eyes behind your hair. You were praying he wouldn’t notice your pain, but your heart sank again when you saw the look of pity that flashed across his face.

“How do you think it went?”

He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his home, and closed the door behind you. “You know I’m always here to listen,” he says, leading you to the living room. “Why don’t you sit, and we can talk about it over hot chocolate?”

He disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two steaming mugs of the comforting drink. As you accepted the mug, he sat down next to you, his arm resting on your knee, as he gave you a reassuring smile.

“Just take your time and tell me what happened.”

You sipped the hot chocolate, the warmth from the drink and Mike’s pats on your knee spreading over you. “It was just like the others, Mike,” you began, tears welling up in your eyes again.

Mike sighs, staring off into space before he speaks. “I hate when you—“ he starts before his tone softens at the sight of your sad eyes. He searches for the right words as they catch in his throat.

“I don’t get why you keep trying,” he says, his voice quivering with concern and exasperation. “That’s all.”

Your eyes were already welling up with tears, but his words hit deep, and you could barely speak. “Mike—“ you choked out.

“No!” He shouted, clenching his fists and tightening his jaw. “I hate seeing you suffer over the same thing!” Mike’s anger flared, but his emotions weren’t directed at you. Instead, fear and frustration fueled him because of your suffering.

Mike can’t stand to see his friend, the person he loves, hurt by failed relationships repeatedly. He’s frustrated and angry, but most of all, he’s tired of seeing you devastated when things go wrong. Mike wants to protect you, but can’t.

“I’m sorry,” you utter, eyes filling with remorse and empathy as you look up at him. “You’re right. Maybe love isn’t for me.”

Mike’s heart broke into a million pieces as he heard those words. He couldn’t help but feel responsible like he had failed you somehow. As he sees you struggling to hold your tears, he whispers, gently cupping your face in the palms of his hands. “Don’t say that. You deserve love and you will find it when you least expect it.” You stare up at him, trying to believe him.

“I’m just so tired of the same thing happening, and I know you hate seeing me like this.” You try to hide your sorrow with a chuckle, but there is so much sadness behind the apology. “I feel so pathetic.”

Wanting nothing more than to relieve your agony, he reached out gently and wiped away the stray tear from your cheek. “You’re not pathetic, and you don’t have to go through this alone,” Mike voices with determination. “I’m here for you. Here for you, no matter what,” he murmurs, pulling away slightly. “And if you ever need a reminder of that,” Mike grins, “just look at me.”

“Mike— “you began, but he cut you off.

“I care about you more than I can express, and I want to be here for you,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel alone in this. And maybe, just maybe, I can be the person who makes you feel alive, happy, and loved.”

Mike pulled you close, his sturdy figure pressing against yours as his hands gripped your hips. The anticipation and tension of years of unspoken feelings and emotions make every touch more severe. As his lips crashed onto yours, you could hardly contain yourself with the rush of pleasure. The intensity of the kiss was almost too much to bear, but you found yourself wanting more when the two of you broke apart.

“Maybe it’s time to stop searching elsewhere and find what we both want,” he murmurs, almost as if he’s asking for permission.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words in response to his passionate kiss. “Yes,” you rasped out. “I want that too.”

Mike couldn’t help the sensual grin that spread across his face as he felt you nod. “Then let’s explore this together,” he whispered, leading you towards his bedroom. As you entered, he carefully undressed you, taking his time to appreciate every inch of your figure. His fingers traced the curves and lines, making you shiver with satisfaction, your moans growing shallow with each brush.

Mike knew exactly how to drive you wild, teasing and pushing all your buttons until you couldn’t help but beg for more. Each caress became increasingly bolder and more assertive, leaving no part of you untouched. His fingers traced the delicate lines from your neck, down to your chest, across your stomach, and finally stopping at your pelvis. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, his eyes drinking into every inch of you like a thirsty man finding an oasis

He stepped back, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. His gaze lingered on your curves, tracing the lines of his fingertips along your skin as if he were trying to commit them to memory. With a sudden, decisive movement, he pushed you down onto the bed, his weight pinning you in place. The suddenness of it sent a thrill of desire coursing all over you.

His lips traced a path from your collarbone to your breastbone, his teeth gently grazing your smooth skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You arched in response, crying softly as he continued his journey lower. His tongue danced over you, exploring every inch of your sensitive flesh, making the ache between your legs grow more insistent, demanding to be satiated.

As the tension built between you, Mike increased the pressure on you, eliciting grunts and pleasured gasps from you. You trembled under his skilled ministrations, and you found yourself lost in the sensual bliss he was creating. Your gasps, heavy and uneven, filled the room as you surrendered to the moment.

“Mike, please just fuck me already,” you implored, your fingers gripping his hair hard, a sign of the intensity of your desire. Mike whimpered softly, his eyes widening as he lifted his head to look at you.

“I know I am taking a long time, but I’ve been wanting this for years,” he whispered, his tone barely audible over your ragged breathing. You could feel the sincerity in his words, the depth of his desire for you. He released his grip on your thighs, his hands now tracing gentle, sensual patterns on you.

“Please, just let me take my time with you,” he pleaded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I want to make this as amazing for you as it is for me.” His words sent a shudder through you, and you nodded, unable to speak, your body asking for him to continue. Mike positioned your frame carefully, supporting your back with his chest and lifting your knees onto the soft mattress. He traced the head of his cock along your slick entrance, taunting and pleasuring you as he edged closer to penetration. His roughened fingertips grazed against your sensitive skin once again, each caress making a delicate dance of anticipation and desire.

As he finally pressed the tip of his erection into your opening, you arched your back instinctively. “Fuck,” you growl under your breath as the pain gave way to fulfillment.

Mike leaned closer, purring into your ear. “You can take it,” he assured you, his cozy voice sending a wave of excitement down your spine. His roughened fingertips traced patterns on you. After exploring your silhouette with delicate touches, Mike brought his hands to your chest, tracing circles around your nipples. His fingers playing around, exploring every inch of you, while his thumb was rubbing your swollen flesh in circular motions.

“If you keep making those sounds, I won’t be able to stop myself,” Mike declared. It seemed you were unaware of the delicate nature of his thrust, considering his massive presence and the way his skilled hands were sending pleasure down your entire being. You couldn’t resist the approaching climax, and yet, you yearned for even more of his touch.

“Harder, Mike, please.” You managed to say it in between whimpers.

His hips rocked forward, pushing his cock deeper into you. The sensation was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before—hot, thick, and demanding. Your form tensed up, bracing itself for the inevitable pain that followed, but it never came. Instead, a wave of intense gratification washed over you, making your entire being convulse in ecstasy as your bodies melded together like two pieces of a broken puzzle, finally fitting together perfectly.

As you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, you cried out his name. The sensation of him being inside you was overwhelming, making you beg for more. But instead of stopping or slowing down, Mike continued at the same pace.

“Yes, scream my name,” Mike growled, his grip tightening on your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly. The sound of your moans reverberated off the walls of the empty area, filling it with an erotic symphony. His thrusts grew more harsh, matching your rapidly escalating arousal. With each powerful slam, he pushed you to the edge, the air around you thick with the scent of sweat and desire.

Despite your intense climax, Mike persisted, his hips rocking fervently, driving deeper and deeper inside you. Your body convulsed under the overstimulation, your nails digging into the thin fabric of the bed, leaving small indentations behind. Your voice quivered as you implored for release, your form shaking with each plea, but he silenced you with a firm, possessive kiss on your neck.

“Just a bit more, please,” he begged, the scent of his desire intoxicating. His frame glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust, creating a symphony of sensations that filled the air. Mike started to mumble incoherent words, his face contorted in ecstasy as he fought to maintain control. It was clear he was nearing his climax. Mike’s words were lost amidst the primal sounds of passion, but you could feel the urgency in his tone, the desperation to find release. His build shook under the intensity of the moment, the muscles in his arms and back tense with exertion.

You could see the struggle in his face, the battle between his body and mind as he pushed himself closer to the edge. Mike’s ragged groans filled the space, while sweat glistened on him. At that moment, you knew he was about to lose himself, his form shaking with the force of his need. You felt his presence twitch inside you, each pulse an indication of his approaching end.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded. Even though your weakened figure struggled to obey he carefully lowered you to the floor, cradling you in his arms before setting you down. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but he held on to you tightly, his hands strong and reassuring.

His figure towered above yours, his arousal still erect and pulsing. He started to stroke himself in front of you, his whimpers soft but urgent as he cried out your name, lost in the haze of his desire. His release approached right after, covering your face and shape in a warm, sticky way. The sensation was overwhelming, a tangible reminder of the satisfaction he had given you.

Mike looked over at you, his eyes admiring the sight of your physique and glistening with his release. His own body trembled as he lowered himself to meet yours, still catching his breath. With a playful grin, he chuckled, “You know,” he utters, his tone low and sultry, “you look better like this.”

His fingers gently moved a piece of hair out of your face, framing it perfectly around your flushed cheeks. The look in his eyes was a mix of admiration and contentment as if he had found the perfect end to the night.

“Asshole,” you responded with a chuckle, returning his playful banter.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, his tone more serious. “I’ve known you for years, and you never looked better than right now.” A gentle kiss accompanied his confession on your forehead, his warm gasp brushing against your cheeks. Despite his teasing earlier, there was genuine admiration and affection in his voice. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling happiness wash over you.

“Let’s shower together,” Mike suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m not responsible if we end up fucking in the shower, though,” he added playfully as he made his way toward the bathroom.

For the first time in years, you felt truly happy and loved, and it was all because of Mike. All those unspoken desires between each other were finally fulfilled. A sense of peace flooded over you, making you realize that this is where you belong—with Mike, who truly understood you on a deeper level.

Fin. Thank you so much for reading!

Should I write a pt.2 on the shower or what? >:)

If you only want to be updated on my smut works consider following @xxxcherryerim, I will be reposting my work there.

#mike schimdt smut #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schimdt x you #mike schmidt fanfic #josh hutcherson #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth smut #josh futturman x you #josh futturman smut #josh futturman #derek danforth

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

night! uh, can u do sum for me like, it would be very very cool from you. can you do like jason x apollo reader that she’s like a ray of sunshine with absolutely anyone and he’s like so in love but she doesn’t know until he wins capture the flag/war games (it depends on wich camp they’ll be) and he’s like “this win is for y/n” and she’s like “oh my father does he like me back?” pls pls??

oh and thank you thank you thank you for writing so well and about jason (he’s so perfect but so underrated i’m crying.) thanks again, i luv ur writing!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of apollo! reader hcs

content: jason grace x daughter of apollo! reader hcs warning: none that i can think of???? author's note: this is for the THREE people that all asked for jason grace x daughter of apollo. it was really scary yall like coordinated that shit bc they all came in at the same time- also...why does apollo reader ALWAYS kick my ass like this was such a bitch to write and like...why???? stupid fucking god of poetry, suck a dick bro fr let me write in peace. im already dyslexic, what more could you want from me??

jason grace had got the hots for the sun's daughter

he couldn't help it

she was just so sweet from the moment he'd met her

he'd been helping leo with something in bunker nine

one second he was holding up sheet metal, the next it was crashing down against his already sensitive nogin

leo rapidly took the son of jupiter to the infirmary, where jason met you

"oh, jeez. another head condition, mr. grace?? giving that brain a run for it's money," you mused with a beaming smile and a soft wink

and jason was a goner

you weren't even a healer, you just liked to make the patients feel better with jokes or legit just your bubbly personality

from that moment on, jason used every excuse to be near you as much as he could

and everyone could tell what was going on with the golden boy

except, naturally, you

which frustrated jason to no end

"do you wanna come hang out in my cabin?" he offered, fighting off his blush mentally

"we always hang out in your cabin, silly," you replied with a winkle of your nose before linking your arm with jason and dragging him off, leaving him to sigh behind your back

"i- i like that shirt on you, y/n. looks really, really good," he tried again in the middle of archery practice, completely missing a shot to tell you that.

"thanks!! it's kayla's but she let me borrow it for today," you hummed, shooting a perfect bullseye shot without any effort, beaming a smile at the boy, who deflated at your lack of flirty response.

then, jason got a brilliant idea when he was talking to percy about capture the flag

he was gonna win, hopefully single handedly, and then do some grand romantic gesture and ask you on a date

should be easy for a child of the big three

except for the fact that his group was against the nike cabin, who were foaming at the mouth for a win

he prayed the gods, more specifically aphrodite, were on his side

the day finally came and jason was completely in the zone, never wanting to win something more in his entire life

well, maybe your heart but still

from the moment the conch shell blew, he was a man on a mission

people began parting out of his way, not wanting to get caught up in that mess

which made it easier to find the flag, some of the demeter kids even pointing him in the right direction

once he found it, he just dropped his sword and sprinted it over the river

bro was fast as lightening

and i think some people were kung fu fighting???

(that made me gag, i apologize-)

(could i delete it?? yes. but if i have to suffer the cringe, so do you.)

ANYWAYS, MOVING ON

jason and his team were dubbed the winners, the flag changing to match cabin one and laurels were placed on his head

bro was pracing around like a show pony, searching the crowd for you

"way to go, jason! congrats, but we're so getting you next time!" you giggled, beaming up at the blonde boy, who couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from you

"well, as far as prizes go, id say these laurels are pretty crappy," jason hummed, removing the crown of golden leaves from his head and inspecting it.

just like he practice in the mirror every morning leading up to this day, same with his words.

this is scripted and being spontaneous wasn't exactly the son of jupiter's strong suit

especially not around pretty girls

"do you guys getting better prizes at new rome or-?" you questioned and you would have said more but then jason gently placed the laurels on your head, smiling as you looked up at them in confusion.

"there, that's a much better prize," he smiled, which only widened as you blushed, ducking your head and causing the laurels to slip slightly

"that's- that's very sweet, jason," you muttered, rocking on your heels as you looked away from him.

the boy you were completely enamored with was telling you he thought you were a prize when you were certain he didn't even like you

like bro wtf???

"well, a sweet girl like you deserves very sweet," he added, enjoying the blush that was settling over your cheeks, "you wanna, maybe, go on a picnic with me?"

"YES- er, yeah, uh, that sounds great. totally, yes, im down," you reply, trying to desperately recover from your far to eager response.

"sounds like a date," jason mused, his smile unstoppable around the sunshine girl.

"more war spoils for the victor?" you teased, pushing the laurels pointly up on your head.

"if you were my war spoils, i'd never lose another fight."

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #all my love ౨ৎ

[ja3hwa]

Mingi + 29 if possible pls!! I'm obsessed with all your works ♡

Prompt : 29 "I can't get enough of you."

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Mission after mission Mingi grows impatient with your teasing and tonight he wanted nothing more than you see you fucked out and begging for him in the bar you just fought in.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 :  1.93k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Suggestive, Fluff, Dystopian Au

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Cowboy!Mingi x F.Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Making out, Fingering, Oral (Reader Receiving). Dirty talk. Swearing. Public sexual activities. Mentioning about railing/fucking the readers brain out. Pet names. (Y/n is not used in this story)

Note : I'm so happy you enjoy my work. And I hope you enjoy this one, my darling. ♡♡

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Stalking through the streets, gun tightly in your hand while you scope out your next target, was something you thrilled for. Listening closely to your surroundings, taking steps lighter than a feather. You were a born killer, and it made Mingi swoon every time he gets to see you in action. The way your body moves, the sharpness of your eyes, peaking through on the top of your bandanna that covers your face. You were perfect, untouchable, ruthless, and most importantly his. 

You both just took out an entire bar filled with goons and undercover cops. Not one of them stood a chance when paired with the two of you. Mingi had moved all the bodies to the corner while you searched the tills and cupboards behind the bar, looking for the tip-off that you two were going to be there. And soon you found it tucked nicely under a couple of hundreds in the register. You put the money in your pocket along with the note, cause let's face it, what are dead people going to do with the money. Better you than some other scumbag coming here after you to take it. 

You wiped your face with your sleeve, noticing there were blood speckles all over your cheeks and forehead. Mingi was watching you the whole time out the corner of his eyes, watching you steal, watching you nonchalantly wipe another man's blood off your perfect face. Maybe he was fucked up but he couldn’t help but find it extremely hot. You were walking power and confidence and Mingi wanted nothing more than you worship the ground you stood on. He had to continuously stop himself, from taking you in most places. When you fought off some goons a week ago he had to calm himself from wanting to pin you again the nearest wall and fuck your brains out. One time some lone fuck head tried to jump you and him in an alley and you knocked him out with one perfectly timed jab to the windpipe. Mingi tried so hard not to get on his knees and taste you until you were screaming.

Maybe you fighting off men made him horny…scratch that. It definitely made him hard.

“Min can you help me, I don’t know if I got all the blood off.” You spoke so innocently like you didn’t just kill five or six men. God Mingi’s head is dizzy. He walked over to you a little too quickly, which you noticed and chuckled slightly at it. He was quick to get to see if everything was okay. Also making sure there were no injuries since he was there. He might as well check. 

“You’re all good.” He smiled, taking a step back so he wasn’t so close to you. Otherwise, he might just combust from the smell of your seductive perfume alone. You seemed to notice his actions, taking a step forward as he took another step back. And so a dance begins. Every stride you took was repeated until his legs hit the pool table behind him. He was stuck between the table, and you had to smirk at it. 

“Are you okay Min?” oh don’t call him that... “Are you feeling sick or something?”

“N-no. Not at all…” He was losing it quickly, blush covered his features faster than he would have liked. His eyes darted around the room for a moment, seeing you were, in fact, completely alone, and you would be alone for at least an hour or until one of the boys went looking for you two. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart rate skyrocket. He knew you were testing him. Being a brat and seeing how far you could get him riled up. Cause in your mind he would never actually do anything, he might think it, and his lingering stares while you two were out on missions made you very aware of your lover’s dirty thoughts.

But he would never actually go through with it.

“Fuck it.” Something in him snaps, and he suddenly grips your waist, turning you around so he could effortlessly place you on the pool table. He pinned you down by your wrists, placing one knee on the edge of the wooden frame so he could then lean down to lock his lips to yours.

“Ming-ahhh” You tried to speak, but a muffled moan consumed you as Mingi bit down on your bottom lip, biting it harshly. His fingertips trail down your tactical wear, feeling the rough straps and belts. Too many straps, in his opinion. His palm found rest on your thigh, lifting it so your knee was bent and your foot was planted firmly on the edge of the pool table while the other leg stays hanging. He didn’t even speak. Instead, he gave you one more peck before dropping to his knees. His face was inches from your clothed core, and you couldn't help but wiggle in anticipation. Was your shy lover really about to taste you while in public? 

“If you don’t help me get your pants off in the next ten seconds, I’m getting my knife and ripping them off.” Take that as a yes.

Your hands fly to your belt, opening buttons, and undoing loops and hoops. You swear you’ve never felt so slow opening your pants, and you are almost tempted to let Mingi just rip them off you. But before you could whine in defeat, you finally open the last button, not even bothering to pull your belt through the rest of the hoops. You just unzip them and pull them down. Mingi grabs your ankles firmly, pulling off your tactical boots before yanking the fabric off your legs. You huff, feeling like your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Your bottom half was left bare, leaving yourself in your top half, completely covered, and cute dark green sports underwear. And no, not panties, or lace, or frills. Practical underwear cause wearing anything else when you beat the shit out of someone is just uncomfortable. But Mingi loves them…Especially because he knows you’ll be wearing the bra to match, and you look so fucking good in the two-piece. 

He kisses your ankles, then your calves, making sure to worship every part of soft skin he could grab. The plumpness of your thighs sends Mingi into a frenzy, wanting nothing more than to feel them squeeze around his head. His lips chomp down on your flesh, making you let out a yelp. He sucks hard, creating purple and red marks all over your legs. Possessive fuck. You thought with a chuckle, biting your lip in order to keep yourself from moaning any louder. 

His nose finds your covered slit, pressing ever so lightly against it, making you whimper through your teeth. “God you smell so delicious, so wet for me.” His dark chuckles sent shivers down your spine. His fingers hook under the soaked fabric, pulling it aside so he could be face to face with your dripping pussy. He blew cold air on you, making you gasp trying to clench your legs shut, but alas his head and one very strong hand was keeping you in place. He grunted in a way to tell you off, so you spread your legs more to make him feel better. He clicked his tongue in approval, letting his hand move from your leg so he could slide his finger through your folds. He finds your clit in a second, giving it a harsh press making you cry, instinctively closing your legs again.

“Close your legs one more fucking time and see what happens.” His dark voice reverberated around the room making your whole body shiver and legs wobble. You desperately wanted to defy him but your inner voice pleas for you to hold off your bratty nature and let Mingi have his way with you. 

“Please Min…” You let the voice win for once, moving to rest your legs on either side of his head. He smirked with a lustful stare, knowing he was won this little tug-of-war you two had begun to play the moment you walked into the bar. He waste’s no time in latching lips to your core since you begged so nicely. He licked a long strip along your folds, taking in as much of your juices as he could. You were like the finest honey he had ever tasted, with a sweet yet salty flavour. His assault on your dripping cunt sent you in a head spin. One hand gripping the side of the pool table while the other found perch tangled in Mingi’s short―but still pullable―hair. His fingers unlatched themselves from your plump thigh to your aching hole. You gulped feeling them dance around your entrance wanting nothing more than to feel full by them.

“You taste so much, good doll.” He hummed against your clit, slipping a finger inside you. “And you're squeezing my fingers, fuck. I can't get enough of you.” He moaned fucking your pussy with his tongue and fingers roughly. All morals have now gone out the window, if there were still any that is. He wanted you to cum, no, squirt all over him and the table so he could watch it drip onto the floor. He wanted to make you feel dirty in the best way possible. And as he added another finger deep inside your cunt, his prayers were answered. You squeezed your thighs shut against his head, rolling your hips on his tongue as he let you use him to finish. His fingers slow down in pace as your high comes to an end, and your juices gradually trickle out of you. When you were done, and your shaky legs loosen slightly, he stands up from his kneeling position with a big goofy grin on his dripping wet face. 

Your face turns to a shade of red seeing you had squirted all over your lover's face, some of his wetting his vest. He didn’t mind though, in fact, all he wanted to do right now was get on the table and fuck your brains out. But alas he knew if you both were to stay here any longer, someone was bound to come looking for you. And Mingi balls deep inside you while railing you on a pool table doesn’t sound like something he would want his friends witnessing, or anyone for that matter.

So, he grabs your discarded pants off the floor to help you get dressed all the while he plans a skilled way to fuck you when you get back to the safe house. you give him a soft kiss on the cheek as a thank you, as he helps you off the table making sure not to fall from your jelly legs. “Well, I think we messed up the place enough.” You laughed gesturing to the broken furniture and men scattered in the large room.

“Yep, I think we messed it up very well.” Mingi’s voice was playful, making you question for a split second until you notice the little pool of liquid on the floor where you were sitting just minutes before. You quickly slap him on the chest, making Mingi holler out a good laugh before repeating. “I’m sorry, it's true.”

“Gross…” You replied.

- ♥︎

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #kpop smut #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez fic #atz smut #atz reactions #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #ja3hwa #ja3hwa posts #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi imagines #mingi smut #mingi x reader

[stvharrngton]

relief

gif credit to indiemovies

a/n: a lil collab with my baby @sweetiestevie 💞 pls go and show her some love

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, cursing, oral (m receiving), face fucking

summary: you let steve face fuck you <3

Steve who is always sweet and doting when he fucks you. Who never asks for more than what you give him. Steve who loves to let you have complete control and shuts off his brain when he’s got you on his cock. Steve who lets you decide when and where he comes. Until one day, you’ve got your lips wrapped tightly around his cock and he puts a warm gentle hand on your cheek and asks, “Can I fuck your mouth? Please?”.

He had seemed stressed when he got home. Like he needed to blow off some steam and relax. You felt bad, you truly did. That’s why you were in this position in the first place. Steve seated on the edge of the bed, completely naked from his shower. His skin was warm and dewy and his hair was dripping slightly.

If Steve was expressing to you that he needed something from you, you wanted nothing more than to give it to him. You couldn’t help but scramble up to him from the floor where you were seated prettily between his legs, to kiss him. The kiss was rushed and passionate and one of his hands was instantly in your hair and an arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours to mumble a breathless “Yeah?”

All you could do was nod and pant and sink back down to your knees. In that moment you wanted Steve to use you and take whatever he needed from you. Steve’s eyes were glassy, he was breathing heavily and he looked absolutely fucked out.

You opened your mouth, tongue lay flat, ready and waiting. You watched as Steve pumped his cock a few times before letting it hit your tongue with a thud.

He let you lick and suck for a few seconds to lube himself up before his palm came to your cheek, thumb stroking over the skin there.

“Ready?” Steve asked.

You nodded.

Steve let out a throaty moan as he began to thrust his dick into your mouth, hips lifting off the edge of the bed. He started slow, edging ever closer to the back of your throat allowing you to get used to the stretch.

Once he felt the tip brush the back of your throat, he was a goner. Hips moving faster now, pistoning into your mouth at a delicious pace. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears brimming at your lashes as you did your best not to gag.

You let Steve use you however he pleased, his hands in your hair as he gathered the soft locks into his fist. His head thrown back in pleasure as he fucked into you.

“Doing so well, baby, feels so fucking good,” he moaned, “take my cock so well, don’t you, sweet girl?”

You whined around his cock, the hum sending a vibration right to his length. You let your tears fall freely now, streaky mascara running down your cheeks, loving how your mouth felt so full with Steve. You palms stayed steady on your own thighs, finger nails digging into the skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “look so fuckin’ pretty like this.”

The burn in your throat was getting a little too much, a little too hot, as Steve fucked his cock into your mouth unmercifully. Brows furrowed and eyes shut tight, you had to give in.

Your hand jolted up to his thigh, fingers tapping three times. His eyes shot open at the gesture, immediately opening his eyes to look at you. His movements stopped as he pulled you off him, swollen lips still connected to his shaft by a string of saliva.

His gaze softened when he saw you, eyes teary and cheeks stained wet. Your pretty lips wet and spit dripping down your chin. You looked messy, but fuck, did Steve love it.

Steve cupped your cheeks with both hands, thumbs stroking, he searched your features frantically, “You okay?”

You nodded, chest heaving and breath panting, “Y-yeah, I’m okay,” you barked as your hand came to wipe your mouth, neck growing hot at the thought of what you looked like right now.

Steve saw, he knew that look in your eye. When your gaze wouldn’t quite meet his own.

“Hey,” he hushed, “don’t get all shy on me, pretty girl.” he cooed, “Do you want to stop?”

You shook your head frantically. That was the last thing you wanted, “No, Stevie,” you breathed, “I’m okay, wanna keep going. Want you to fuck my mouth, please.”

“Shit,” he groaned, nodding. He thrust his cock into your mouth once more, building his pace again.

With every thrust Steve grunted and groaned, hands in your hair petting soothingly, tongue darting out to lick over his lips with desire.

Your nails dug into his calves for support as his cock pistoned in and out of your throat, pulling it all the way out before delving back in again. Spit smearing over his cock, down your chin, and on to your shirt.

You glanced up at Steve, eyes bleary and wide as the tears fell again, “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, “shit, baby, can you take that off?” he asked, fingers pinching at the flimsy material of your blouse, “Need to see those perfect tits.”

Your breath hitched as you tapped his thigh again, asking him to pull out, as you reached for the hem and ditched your shirt. Tits bouncing free and nipples pert.

Steve whined at the sight, “God, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he stated, hands reaching out to fondle your supple skin, before thrusting his cock right back into your mouth.

“Feels so good, baby, such a good girl for me,” his fingers wrapping around you throat to feel the outline of his cock, “such a good fucking girl.” hips moving faster with every word he spoke.

You knew he was close, the way he babbled praise incoherently, how his thrusts were becoming more erratic, how his thighs clenched every time his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Doing such a good job, gonna let me fill this pretty mouth, yeah?” his voice low, raspy, desperate, “Fuck this wet little hole ‘til I cum?”

You hummed around his cock, nodding the best you could whilst your throat was stuffed full. Your hand reached up to cup his balls where they slapped against your chin and Steve was gone.

Thrusting faster, thrusting harder, “Oh, yeah,” he whined, “good girl, baby, ‘m gonna cum.”

His hips stuttered as his whole body clenched up, abs contorting as his thighs clenched. Mummers of praise and your name fell past his lips between long breathy moans as he came undone above you, hot cum spilling down your throat. Steve’s large palm rubbing over your neck soothingly.

You pulled off him with a pop, mouth full of cum. You let Steve catch his breath a minute, thighs spread wide as he lent back on the bed on his palms. A thin sheen of sweat coating his body, hair still a little damp from his shower.

“Open your mouth,” Steve breathed, “please open your mouth. Let me see.”

Your thighs clenched at his words, jaw opening slightly letting him see his cum pooling in your mouth. He groaned at the sight, body relaxing against the sheets.

He uses a strong warm hand to shut your mouth for you before he speaks, “Be a good girl and swallow,” rubbing a thumb over your cheek and sticky lips, red from being used.

You did as he said as Steve’s strong arms pulled you up from your knees and into his lap, hand petting at your hair and he pressed his nose into your cheek. Your hands reached up into his still damp hair, fingers carding through the ends. He relaxed under your touch, all signs of stress and tension leaving his body.

He was so lucky to have you, Steve thought.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #my bestie did so good didn’t she 🥺 #k.fic