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#nobody asked for this. but it was a necessity. to me
saintbleeding · 1 year
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[ID: Digital art of Martin and Jon from TMA. Martin is a short, fat, white man with slightly greying ginger hair and round glasses. He wears grey sweatpants and a pink, oversized jumper with the text “CEO of gay shit” in capital letters on the chest. His sleeves are rolled up, and he holds a smartphone to his ear, looking down sheepishly as he speaks, seated on a light-brown sofa. Jon is a tall, thin, British-Indian man with shoulder length, salt-and-pepper hair tied back, a patchy beard, and several scars across his face, neck, and arms. He wears rectangular glasses, dark, loose trousers, and a grey t-shirt, with “got abducted from a fuckin Greyhound and all I got was this shitty t-shirt” scrawled amateurishly across the front, also in all-caps. He holds a corded phone receiver to his ear, the base of which is resting on the table beside which he is seated. On the table are a few papers with handwriting scribbled illegibly on them. Between Jon and Martin is the coiled cord of a telephone, separating them. Both appear to have the other’s translucent, grey-toned, ghostly arm wrapped around them. Jon appears to be smiling fondly at Martin as he speaks. Above them is written the text “I shouldn’t have talked to you over the phone/It’s your voice, almost made me feel like I was home”. The background is a gradient of pink tones. End ID.]
season four is probably legitimately my favourite of all of them, but honestly tbh to be honest season three is a close second, because YEARNING, but not the kind that makes me need to get on the FLOOR
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miamicommune · 2 months
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always going 2 be doomed to being the financially worst off and lowest energy person in a flat whilst also having to buy everything for that flat and do most of the cleaning
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blackthornass · 9 months
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please pleaswe please please send me the vibes that i will get the job that i applied for just now at cinnabon please i need the money so bad
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woobifiedvillain · 1 year
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There's imposter syndrome where you're low-key aware you're experiencing imposter syndrome ™. Like. Getting a job due to qualifications but still feeling unqualified. And then there's. Autism flavored imposter syndrome where you're so used to struggling w (/straight up being unable to do at all) things you're "supposed" to be able to do "easily" or without instructions, that you just. Do something easily and are very good at it very fast but genuinely don't realize it's supposed to be hard or it's a niche topic or something. Bc most expectations like that are implied and nobody has ever sat you down and said "hey this thing is generally considered difficult and/or extremely specialized (and takes a lot of instructions and time to learn to do well)". And then maybe someone is impressed you can do the thing but you're so used to compliments having some flavor of "intriguing but that's weird, there's ~something wrong with you~" that you don't really internalize it and sometimes you continue this niche pursuit for years until one day for whatever reason you realize that most people, cannot, in fact, easily do this thing, it's actually not just hard but usually a while ass career, not something learned based on vibes, and certainly not something that can typically be wing-ed and end well, but you don't really understand *why* that would be the case because easy things are usually hard for you so how can something thats genuinely intuitive and easy to do be hard for others that doesn't make sense bc it goes against a lot of fundamental assumptions about how you exist in relation to others and it's like imposter syndrome but also the reason I low-key believed I was an alien for at least a decade
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be-good-to-bugs · 1 month
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i wish i wasn't so shy
#the bin#theres a party happening where i work tomorrow after close. i really like my coworkers but i cant make myself go#im so tired of being home alone all the time but :/ the coworker i dont like isnt even gonna be there so i wouldnt have to deal but :/#i just cant. i know at least most of my coworkers like me but. hhhh. the thought of going makes me super anxious#i dont know why it makes me so nervous. but the fact ill definitely have to see all these people again doesnt help bc if i seem weird its#a permanent fumble. until i move at least.#i can be normal in work settings because i dont HAVE to talk. i can focus on working and i think that actually makes people see me as very#professional. it certainly did at my last job. and where i work now im always tryna make sure if theres stuff to be done that im doing it#and asking. whenever theres nothing to do i feel so awkward and bored. a few of my coworkers are nice to talk to but we only talk bc they#have nobody to talk to. when its more than 1 other person then those 2 people usually talk to each other and i do nothing#idk. this sorta thing isnt the kind athing everyone likes doing but it feels like the kinda thing i would actually enjoy if i wasnt so shy#its weird to me that i was able to push past some of my social anxiety in order to get a job. but that only happened bc i was fully forced#to. and i procrastinated it quite a bit. i forced myself to deal with stuff previously so i could go to the store and that was the same case#i fully tan out of food and drink for 3 days before i finally forced myself to walk to the store out of pure necessity bc i HAD to#since the ppl i lived with refused to go to the store even tho i was out of food#and now i do those things fine. i get kinda anxious but its really fine#but i cant force myself to do other things. it sucks so much#well. it doesnt matter.
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chocolatespyro · 2 months
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honestly i could probably relay my thoughts better if i could just say AAAAAAA cabinet. :) shes my silly billy. my everything. i just really want to talk about how she doesn’t necessarily need to apologize to the jury at all. she only really “hurt” the new pinkers. and even then her “hurting” them was moreso for team dynamics. cabby automatically recognizes that the team will genuinely not function with silver on it due to test tube and paintbrush having anger issues and bot and balloon being incompetent. he would fuck up the team majorly (and in a sense HE DID in episode 9 taking up the role of writing when he shouldve been a caterer) so she enacted somewhat self sabotage incase they lost. putting a target on silver spoon in the likely chance they lost wouldve made the team genuinely work. cabby was never mean, shes just very strategic and competitive. also the fact she tried to comfort silver despite everything he put her through breaks my heart a little. shes so sweet :(
-🍭
AUGHHH Yeah :( She's way nicer to a lotta people than she has any right to be. Especially with that whole thing in ii13 where Silver threatens Cabby's voting safety for one of her files.
For other moments I can think of when it comes to Cabby being """mean""" like the situation with Fan, she was only enforcing her boundaries and getting him out of the game due to him invading her privacy. Someone could argue if the way she did it was underhanded or not, but ultimately I'd say getting him out was justified.
As for her insulting Test Tube during that one episode where Box gets severely injured, that was because Test Tube insulted her entire deal and insulted her first, whether she knew it or not. Honestly if I was Cabby I'd be like. WAAYYYY more pissed off and I definitely wouldn't have handled it as eloquently as she did.
I can see a lot of the contestants that've done this whole song-and-dance before not appreciating the way Cabby handles things but at the same time like... it's a competition show. What did they think they were going to do? Make friendship bracelets and sing campfire songs?
The stubbornness of a few of the characters in terms of forgiving her is... admittedly frustrating!!! Considering there's only the second part of Episode 18 of Season 3 left, what else does Cabby have to do to convince them? How long does she need to push this boulder?
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luveline · 1 month
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could i request spencer x bombshell!reader where maybe spencer and the team meet reader’s ex boyfriend / a guy she used to be interested in and he’s sooo different from spencer so he assumes her flirting is a joke but really she never had a type until she met spencer n now she’s only into nerdy, sweater-vest wearing sweethearts <3
love ur work sm i only read spencer fics but i read all your characters bc the writing is so intoxicating !!
thank you for your request angel! <3 1k, fem
Spencer looks adorable today. You’re not sure if he knows, but that can be easily rectified. 
“Spencer Reid,” you say sternly. 
He’s immediately wide-eyed and sorry. “What?” he asks, pouting. 
“You have some explaining to do.” You glare, taking your compact from your pocket. You open it, check your appearance, fighting a huge smile as you flick the mirror on him accusingly. “So, what do you have to say for yourself?” 
“I don’t get it.” His eyes jump between the mirror and you. “Sorry?” 
“You should be sorry. Do you see how nice you look today?” He rolls his eyes. “Hey, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.”
You and Spencer have known each other for years now, and you love him. You’d die for him easily in the field, and out of it too, but you’re not together and he’s bad at accepting compliments, so he shrugs you off like you’re only teasing him. 
“My handsome partner,” you say. Even if he isn’t your boyfriend, that’s your loophole. You and Spencer get paired for everything these days, because you’re best friends and Hotch has given up on separating you (though professionally there’s no need). “I could eat you.” 
“Still mildly threatening, then,” a voice says. 
You spin in your chair, shocked and a little horrified to find the last person you wanted to see here in Connecticut. “Cory!” you say, knowing he’ll believe you’re enthusiasm if nobody else. 
“Hi, beautiful. You weren’t gonna call me?” 
Your lips pop as you reply, “I was definitely going to, just as soon as we weren’t on the clock. How are you?” you ask, standing to receive the hug you know he’s going to give. 
Cory is… well, he’s gorgeous, though that hadn’t been why you had fun with him when you were here last. He’d seemed nice enough and plainly interested in you at the time, and you’d been sort of lonely, so really he was a necessity of the soul rather than a want. Plus, he was very rich. 
Gorgeous he may be, but Spencer Reid he is not. You don’t deny it to yourself —the genius behind you has completely changed your type, the kind of man you vy after, and if you’re honest, he’s the one for you. So hugging Cory and pretending you’re going to call him for drinks after the case is over isn’t easy. You lie rather than reject him.
“He seemed nice,” Spencer says in the awkward silence Cory leaves behind. 
“Sure!” you say, blowing out a hot breath. “Was I embarrassing myself? I didn’t expect to see him.” 
“You were the same as usual.” 
You tilt your head back as the door opens again, worried it’ll be Cory back for a last word. Emily smiles at you knowingly, a bag of takeout in hand. “God, did you see that?” she asks, eyebrows rising. “He was perfect.” 
“If you like the Greek god motif,” you joke. 
Spencer’s frowning at his files when you turn back to him. “Spence, what’s wrong?” you ask. 
“Mm? Nothing.”
“You sure?” you ask. 
He maintains that he’s okay as the rest of the team flood in for lunch. You pretend to believe him, not sure what you’ve done to upset him but willing to figure it out. You unwrap his food for him and place his plastic cutlery on a napkin as you know he prefers, sorting through the cup drinks to find his diet lemonade. “Here, handsome,” you say, touching his shoulder gently as you sit down next to him. 
He bristles. 
“Spencer?” you ask. 
He looks around the table. Hotch and Rossi are talking about something with shared smiles, while JJ and Morgan debate the case. Emily’s on her phone with a straw between her lips. They aren’t listening, and so he says, “It’s not a fitting nickname.” 
“What, handsome? That’s not a nickname, it’s a pet name, and it’s true. You’re one of the most handsome guys I’ve ever seen,” —you laugh and grab his elbow when he shakes his head— “are you kidding? Spencer, you could be a model. I’ve told you this a hundred times. You have amazing cheekbones, just dreamy, and your lips–”
“Oh, god, please don’t start,” he says, covering his face with both hands. He sounds like he’s smiling. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 
Hotch shoots you a don’t tease look. You send him a vehement I’m not back, waiting for him to look away before you prod Spencer again. “You’re so cute, Spencer, you don’t get it.” 
“I don’t wanna be cute, cute isn’t your type–”
Your eyes flare. “What would you know about my type, Spencer? Is this– is this about Cory?” 
“Of course it is,” he says, face pink as he drops his hands. 
“Spencer, he is not my type.” 
“But you dated.”
“One date. And that was before I realised I liked dorks in sweater vests,” you say. You’re both acting like this is half a joke, a skit, in case you’re overheard, but you’re also both well aware that it’s serious and vulnerable and flustering to confess certain things right here and now. Too bad it has to be done. “I miss your glasses, babe, they really added to your charm.” 
Spencer shakes his head, picking up his styrofoam boxed lunch to ignore you. 
You sidle close to him, your pinky finger rubbing the slightest hint of his bare wrist. “Wanna get drinks with me tonight? I need a cover story in case Grecian Cory tracks me down. And, you know you get that really cute blush when you drink. What do you say?” 
“No,” he says with a smile, which means yes in this instance.
You kiss his cheek, giggling at the lipgloss left behind. “You’re my type, handsome.”
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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Romanced
Reader is best friends with Lando. That was how she met Oscar. Lovely, wonderful Oscar. When he makes it clear he wants to take things further, she doesn't, and she's scared to tell him
Or
Reader is asexual/doesn't like sex. The thought of it is terrifying and she's afraid of telling Oscar that.
This one is really fucking personal to me you guys so I hope you like it 🫶🫶🫶 (short but I'm writing this in the five minutes I have before class)
Warnings: mentions if being forced into sex
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"How was the date with Oscar last night?"
Of course Lando was going to ask, he was her best friend. It was his way of looking out for her. But she would have been surprised if he didn't already try to pry all of the tea from Oscars hands.
Not that Oscar would spill, he was respectful like that.
"Lando," she said as she sat down opposite. "Out of all of your teammates, I think he's my favourite."
Lando laughed at that. He smiled with his tongue poking between his teeth. "You got some last night, didn't you?" He asked and she immediately froze up. Of course, Lando didn't read this as anything other than her being bashful about it. So, he continued, "You've got that post nut glow."
"Never ever say that again," she said immediately as she shivered. But then she really thought on his words. If Lando had expected her to sleep with Oscar, what did Oscar think? Was he expecting to be invited back to her bed when he walked her home after dinner?
Lando looked at her, watched the way her demeaner changed. "Either you fucked and it was terrible or you didn't fuck but you wish you did," he said and Y/N smacked his arm. It was a playful smack, but still a smack.
He held up his hands defensively. "I get it, I get it. A lady doesn't kiss and tell."
Kissing. She'd liked kissing Oscar. That was all they did when he came back to her apartment. Maybe him pulling her into his lap was a sign. A sign that he wanted more. Wanted something she couldn't give him.
This was always the aftermath of a date for her. Over thinking everything until she convinced herself she was unlovable, that nobody would ever want her because of her incapabilities.
But she liked Oscar. She really liked him. This couldn't be goodbye, could it?
All of these thoughts and she hadn't even spoken to Oscar yet.
Oscar. He wasn't like her, he wasn't worrying about how the date went because they didn't sleep together. It would have been nice, sure, but it wasn't a necessity.
He had a lovely time with a lovely girl that he couldn't wait to get to know better. He already had their fourth date planned out.
This was the one where he was going to ask her to be his. It was going to happen over the Australian grand prix weekend. He was going to pack a picnic basket and a blanket and take her to a nice secluded area. It would be an afternoon of laying in the sun, enjoying each other.
When he walked into the garage, she was already there with Lando. He let a wide smile takeover his face as he looked at her. God, she really was something. Oscar was kicking himself that he hadn't asked her out the year prior. But he was just a rookie then, he had bigger things to worry about.
She smiled back, but it didn't reach her eyes. Quickly her attention turned away from him, turning to Lando.
That was odd, Oscar thought. But he didn't go over there and challenge her on it. She was probably just tired, they'd stayed up pretty late the night before.
When he got a chance to catch her alone, Oscar grabbed her by her elbow and dragged her into an empty corridor. She didn't protest, she was used to this by now. It was rather endearing.
"Hey," he said, standing over her. He wore that same smile from the morning.
"Hey," she replied, in the same smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Oscar was fiddling with his fingers, clearly nervous. "So," he said as though he was stalling himself. "Date number four." He sucked in a breath, his cheeks pink. "I've got something pretty big planned."
Her anxiety kicked into overdrive. No, no, no. They hadn't had sex on the third date so Oscar was going out of his way to make it happen on the fourth. She couldn't do this. She really couldn't do this.
"Look, Oscar," she interrupted before he could say anything else. "I really like you. I really really like you, but it's not going to work." End it now before he decides he doesn't like what you're all about.
"Oh," Oscar said, the expression dropping from his face. He looked like a kicked puppy that had been left out in the rain. It was heartbreaking.
So, she did what she thought best. She turned around and took off.
***
Lando called her an idiot. Several times over he called her an idiot. Even once she'd explained, he'd called her an idiot.
"You never know, he might have been really understanding," he said as he gripped his hair out of frustration. That was where he was at with her.
"Understanding like the last guy?" She challenged. Lando frowned. He never quite knew what went on between her and her ex, just that he was an asshole. "Lan, I tried explaining it to him, and he made me feel like a freak. Even after all that he still force me into it," she said through a broken sob.
Lando opened his arms and she collapsed into them. "It's okay," he said. "I've got you." His finger was tracing soothing circles up and down her back. "Oscars not like that, I promise," he said, "you at least owe him an explanation."
That she could agree to. She stayed with Lando for just a few more minutes before pushing away from him. He gave her a reassuring, encouraging smile as she left.
Oscars room wasn't very far away from Landos. She knocked on his door and waited patiently for him to answer.
When Oscar opened the door, surprise was painted across his face. "Oh," he said. "For some reason I didn't expect to see you." But that didn't come as a surprise to her.
"Can I come in?" She asked somewhat timidly, and Oscar stepped aside.
His hotel room was a lot tidier than Lando's, who threw his clothes around the moment he took them off. Oscar sat on the bed and patted the space beside him.
Kicking off her shoes she sat and tucked her legs beneath him. "I was speaking to Lando and I realised I owe you an explanation," she said, staring straight forward. "Because, I would have loved to have gone on that fourth date with you, but I was scared," she confessed.
Oscar wanted to ask her, but he sat there, let her speak.
"So, the third date is normally where sex happens, right? At least in all of the movies it's where sex happens. With my ex I don't think we even made it to the third date." She shook her head, dismissing that train of thought. "We didn't have sex on our third date and I was scared that you'd had it planned for the fourth."
She was quiet, waiting for Oscar to say something. "So, you don't want to sleep with me?"
"God, no," she said a little too quickly, not quite realising what she was saying. "I mean, I don't want to sleep with anybody. The thought of it terrifies me and I didn't know how to tell you because I was scared you'd no longer... want... me."
It sounded so stupid once she'd said it, she realised. How could he want her now? After she'd just said that.
But she didn't give him a chance to answer. She was going to say it all first. "But I like being romanced by you," she said. "I like romancing you. I like it when you hold my hand, when we kiss, when you hold my face and everything. I liked it when you pulled me into your lap, but I don't think I could take it further."
She was quiet after that, giving Oscar time to process the information. He took a good minute, trying to sort through it. She had spoken awfully quick.
"So," he finally said after too much silence. "If I told you our fourth date was going to be a picnic in Australia, would you be okay with that?" He asked, his words slow.
The way her eyes lit up, he'd never forget it. "Yes, Oscar, yes!" She cried, throwing her arms around him.
Oscar kissed her head. "I think I'm okay with just romancing you," he said and she could t stop the grin from covering her face. A grin he could look at forever, if he got the chance.
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swiftispunk · 11 months
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If you're still accepting fic requests, could i request a smut fic with joel using the hitachi wand on the reader? i doubt theyd be able to find one in the apocalypse but for sexy purposes, it'll work!!
rare | joel miller x f!reader
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REQUESTED ~
pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!reader
summary: all porn, hardly any plot. a rare find on a supply run leads to some new and unlikely experiences.
word count: 3.3k
rating: 18+ minors dni
warnings etc: filthy smut, pet names, use of a sex toy, bondage, squirting, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, masturbation (m), mild dacryphilia, age gap implied (reader is in their 20s/30s, joel is in his 50s), unprotected p in v sex, established relationship. NO USE OF Y/N.
A/N: non, there are no rules here. however, nobody ask me how batteries work. finally working my way through requests, thank you all for ur patience <3 sorry for edging you all with this one, have some overstim to make up for it :) restraint reference | hitachi magic wand reference
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Miracles in the apocalypse are something of a rarity.
As such, the threshold for what constitutes a miracle is, by definition, considerably low.
Like today, for example.
Miracle number one is getting Joel to agree to go on a supply run with you, something he usually avoids, despite the fact that you’ve been comfortably settled together in Jackson for some time now.
“Get too distracted when I’m with you,” he grumbles whenever you offer. “Always come home with nothin’ ‘cause I’m too busy tryin’ to keep you alive.”
It’s romantic, to be sure, but if he hadn’t agreed today, miracle number two might not have happened.
Because miracle number two is all you. It’s you who, while exploring a neighbouring city, wanders down a side street and finds the abandoned sex shop, only mildly raided despite decades of opportunities (something-something-not-really-a-necessity). It’s you who discovers the library of toys, including one exceptionally ostentatious-looking one you think you’ve seen in a magazine.
“It’s not gonna work,” Joel assures you, coming up behind where you stand holding the big white thing.
“Not with that attitude,” you smirk. “But you’re probably right. Bet the battery inside’s corroded to shit.”
“Maybe with this?” Joel ponders, holding up miracle number three:
A pack of replacement Hitachi batteries still in their original packaging.
He cocks his eyebrows at you and you shoot him a winning smile back.
You won’t be coming home with nothing today.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
After some not-so expert (but certainly determined) jimmying, Joel manages to replace the internal battery in the device, plugging it into the wall and revelling at his handiwork when the thing actually comes to life.
You both eye it cautiously charging on the nightstand.
“Have you ever…?” Joel asks.
You shake your head no, even though he probably could have guessed your answer, considering most of your adult life has been consumed by the whole end-of-the-world thing.
“Have you? I mean - on someone else - have you used it?” you inquire curiously, trying to imagine a younger Joel Miller getting experimental with sex toys.
He wrings his hands together, like he’s nervous to tell you. “Not this exact kind but…yeah. Long time ago.”
The tinge of jealousy you feel for the nameless woman from twenty years ago is easily overshadowed by the knowledge that Joel has some experience in this department.
It’s one of the many things you love about him, one of the things that makes him such a reliable partner, sexually or otherwise. He’s not a perfect man - far from it - but he is, if nothing else, competent with machinery.
“Damn,” you say, impressed. “Anything I should be prepared for?”
Joel grins.
“Might wanna wait till Ellie’s out to try it,” he says slyly, leaning in to wrap his arms around your waist and nip at your earlobe. “I don’t want ya holdin’ anythin' back.”
You shiver, anticipation sending sparks to your core. You hear it in his voice too.
“That good, huh?” you whisper, already a little breathless just at the thought of what Joel's going to do to you with the toy.
“Mhmmm, s'what I hear,” he hums in your ear, planting a heady kiss to your neck before biting down gently on your jawbone.
It's enough to make you want to try it right now, but then you hear Ellie rummaging around in the living room downstairs, and yeah, okay, it can wait.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Your chance finally comes one sunny afternoon, the kind of day that any sane person would be spending outside like Ellie is, but you and Joel are not sane people.
You are two very hard up people who have been impatiently waiting half a week now for the chance to test out what is probably the last functioning vibrator on Earth.
"I was thinkin'..." Joel starts as he kisses the back of your neck, the wand staring you both down intimidatingly from its place on the nightstand.
"What's that?" you breathe, arousal already coating your voice as Joel's big hands snake their way under the hem of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head to reveal your bare chest beneath.
"It's gonna be intense," he whispers - an enticing promise. "I want you to keep those legs nice and open for me the whole time."
He punctuates his words with a pinch of your nipples, making goosebumps rise on your skin as your head falls back onto his shoulder.
"I will," you assure him ardently, voice coming out whinier than you intend, maybe a little offended at his doubting you.
Joel chuckles darkly.
"I know you say that now, sugar, but I wanna be sure."
You crane your neck to look at him, his brown eyes staring back at you with a mischievous glint.
"How?" you inquire, earnestly desperate to do right by him, to make the experience as good as possible for both of you.
"What if I told you I took somethin' else from that shop?" he grins.
Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead, a fresh wave of arousal coating the inside of your underwear with wetness as you ponder what sweet surprise Joel Miller has been keeping from you for the last three days.
"You what?"
"Take the rest of those clothes off and get on the bed, I'll show ya," he instructs you, planting a wet kiss behind your ear that sends shivers down your spine.
You do as your told while Joel ducks off to the closet, stripping off his shirt as he goes. Your eyes wander over the thick muscles of his back, the wide set of his shoulders...god, he's so beautiful. Lying naked on the bed, waiting for him to give you this new brand new experience, it's hard not to get caught up in how truly you lucky you are to have found the man.
Clock it as miracle number four.
You don't get to bask in your adoration for long though, because then he's turning to face you with that same impish grin on his face, clutching his little secret in his hands.
"Oh my god," you say, recognition hitting you like a ton of bricks. Restraints. The kind designed to connect your wrists to your ankles and thighs, six distinct loops that will no doubt ensure Joel's request that you stay constantly open for him at all times. You feel the colour leave your face, nerves settling in your stomach.
"No?" Joel asks, instantly concerned at the look of apprehension on your face.
"No!" you protest. "I mean, yes - yes."
You try to infuse some confidence in your voice to put him at ease. You do want to try, you just...hadn't been expecting it is all.
"Guess you've never done this before either, huh?"
"Mm-mm."
Joel crosses to where you sit on the edge of the bed, cupping your face comfortingly in one of his big hands.
"Well, I got you, sweetheart," he hums soothingly, though an intoxicating darkness coats his tone. "I'll care of ya."
"Mhmm," you sigh, your eyes falling closed as you lean into his familiar, calloused touch.
You believe him.
He smiles lovingly down at you and then he's stepping back to strip down to just his boxers, the thin fabric barely veiling his semi-hard cock.
He inches closer to you, placing his hand firmly against your neck now, something new burning behind his eyes.
"But you oughta know right now - I'm not lettin' up," he vows then. No mistaking the darkness in his voice now. "Even when it's too much. You're gonna take what I give you, alright?"
You swallow harshly, biting your lip as arousal mixes with nerves - the good kind, the kind that make your heart race and wetness grow between your legs.
"Yes. Yes, Joel."
Joel runs the hand on our neck up and through your hair, coaxing you down onto your back, but not before propping a pillow up under your head.
"Open your legs wide for me, sugar."
You do, and then Joel is climbing onto the bed beside you. You watch intently as he, with careful concentration, holds your legs open and fastens you into the restraints, interlocking your legs with each of your wrists so you're fully on display for him, nowhere to hide, nowhere to go.
But Joel's not focused on that yet.
"How's that feel, sweetheart? Not too tight?" he asks first, because he cares and because he's Joel.
"Good," you promise him. It's true. You can't move your arms and your knees have been forced open so wide that the muscles in your hips strain but, to your shock, you find that it feels...exciting.
Joel smiles, finally sitting back to take in the sight of you and revel in his handiwork.
"You look so goddamn pretty, darlin'," he says reverently. "So fuckin' pretty all open for me like that."
Fuck. You're dripping just from the build-up and the praise, cunt throbbing with need for him.
"Touch me, Joel, please," you whine.
"Mmmm, we'll see how long you're saying that," he says somewhat threateningly, leaning in to kiss your neck, his hot breath on your tender skin clouding your focus and making you dizzy.
But Joel's not interested in keeping you waiting. He slides his hand slowly over your breasts, squeezing lightly at your perked nipples while his mouth continues to nip and kiss over your clavicle. You moan softly at his touch, then louder when his hand finds purchase over your wet heat, coating his fingers in your wetness before rubbing soft circles over your swollen clit.
"That feel nice, baby?" Joel whispers into your skin, his lips trailing down your chest to take one of your nipples in his mouth and flick his tongue over it.
"Fuck, yes Joel, god...you're so good to me," you sigh, because it deserves to be said aloud. His delicate touch, the care he takes; it's all-encompassing and it's barely even started.
You feel him smile against you as he increases the pressure of his fingers on your clit, finally sinking one of his long digits into you, right down to the knuckle. In no rush, he adds a second, then a third, finally reaching across you with his other hand to circle your clit while he fucks the fingers of his other hand in and out of you methodically.
Your eyes flutter closed, it's so good - Joel knows exactly how to drive you wild; he's made you come like this hundreds of times. But it never gets old, even when he removes the hand he has on your clit so he can duck down and lick his tongue deliciously over the bundle of nerves instead.
You're already moaning and squirming under him, in a daze with pleasure when -
"Think you're ready for it, pretty girl?"
Oh shit. The wand. You'd forgotten about the fucking wand.
"Yeah - " you say, realizing how true it is, your eyes shooting open to see him curved domineeringly over you. "I'm-I'm ready."
Joel presses a soft kiss to your mound before pulling back to grab the toy off the nightstand. You watch with anxious wonder as he clicks it on, flinching unconsciously at the dull buzzing noise it emits.
"I'll start it low," Joel says, eyes boring into yours.
"Okay."
You lay your head back, and let Joel get to work.
His movements slow and deliberate, Joel tentatively hovers the wand over one of your nipples and -
“Holy fuck!"
You involuntarily arch away from the acute sensation. "That's low?"
Joel just gazes back at you with an eyebrow cocked disapprovingly.
"I warned ya, sweetheart. Stop your squirmin' now."
You take a deep a breath and try.
Just to be sure, Joel holds you steady with a firm hand on your ribcage, as he starts to work the rounded end of the toy back over your breasts. You flinch when it makes contact with one of your nipples again, breath catching in your throat as Joel begins to circle it over the sensitive bud, feather light, letting you adjust to the feeling.
It doesn't take long, the shock of the vibrations quickly dissipating into paralyzing pleasure and going straight to your cunt, puffy and soaking between your spread-open legs.
Joel doesn't ignore your pussy either, rather, he attentively slides his hand over your wet heat and slips two thick fingers inside you again, fucking into you while he continues to press the toy, with more pressure now, over your hardened nipples.
"Oh my god, Joel," you keen amid a series of cacophonous groans, your head falling back hard on the pillow behind you.
You know the sounds you're making are obscene, know they're also driving Joel crazy. You can feel his cock, now rock hard, pressing into your side through his boxers; you'd reach out to touch it if you had the hands to.
It's already overwhelming but then he removes his fingers with a low grunt, which you realize is his way of preparing you for what's coming next. You a chance a glance at his hand around the wand, watching with bated breath as Joel moves it down over your font to swipe it from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit, before pulling it away entirely.
You actually scream, your knees attempting to close in on yourself protectively despite the restraints. "Shit!"
Joel's not having it. He forces your legs open further still with a solid hand on your knee.
"Stay with me, baby, come on, now."
You can't watch as he experimentally places the end of the toy over your folds, just a gentle tap, before pulling it away again. He repeats that same pattern over and over, chuckling darkly at how you cry out each time the wand makes contact with your needy cunt.
Before you think you can really handle it, Joel presses the wand down then, hard, over your clit, simultaneously turning up the power to its next speed (if you can recall, it only has two: holy shit and holy fuck). You arch up off the bed, your thighs instinctively trying to come together again even though they can't, your hands longing to grab onto something, clenching into fists when you find that, they too, can't.
Joel keeps that same solid hand under your breast, forcing you back onto the bed as you whine and squirm under the toy and the force of his body weight pinning you down.
"Tell me how it feels," he commands you, his voice gruff.
Intense. Agonizing. Overwhelming. Amazing. But all your mouth can muster is -
"So good - a lot - "
"Mmmm, you can take it." He says it like it's an instruction and you're faintly cognizant of him stroking himself under the hem of his boxers, getting off on your heavenly torment.
Now he shoots to kill - sliding the toy down into your wet heat and back up to your clit, soaking it thoroughly in your juices. He repeats that motion mercilessly, and you feel your release building then - a dull buzz deep in your core like an echo of the electrical hum of the wand against you.
It would be more than enough - would have been more than enough - but then Joel is dropping the grip he has on his cock to glide two fingers into you again, focusing the toy over your clit as he fucks his digits into you expertly, the combined pressure with the toy making your tummy tighten and your toes curl.
"You gonna come for me, sugar?" he growls like he doesn't already fucking know.
"Fuckfuckfuck, yes, Joel I - " your desperate mewling is cut off by the sensation of him crushing the balled edge of the wand over your clit at the exact moment his fingers hook and hit that spot inside you.
"Takin' it so well, sweetheart - fuck - you look so good," Joel praises you, his cock now visibly dripping precum through his boxers.
“Come for me now."
"JoelJoelJoel - " you wail, your entire body jerking as you come around his fingers, involuntarily squirting as you do, soaking the sheets under you and splashing Joel beside you.
That’s new.
"Fuck, yeah, darlin'," Joel praises you. "Goddamn, that's so good."
He doesn't let up the beckoning curve of his fingers inside you as you come, keeps the toy firmly planted over your clit so you just keep coming like that, over and over.
It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
Finally, finally, Joel pulls back, taking the toy and his fingers with him as you gasp for air.
"Good job, sweetheart," he commends you, ducking down to plant a tender kiss over your spent heat as you attempt to catch your breath.
But the momentary, beautiful, ridiculously good peace is short-lived.
He's moving in again with the wand.
"Joel - Joel - I can't - please," you beg when he suddenly returns the end of the toy back to its place over your clit.
You try in vain to move away or close your legs but you can't - it's no use.
"What'd I say, sweetheart?" Joel grumbles, forcing your knees apart again. "You're gonna take what I give ya."
"S'too much - Joel - " you groan, clawing at nothing.
"You're okay." Again, it sounds like an order.
You squirm and jerk but you can't get away - he just holds it there, unrelenting, as the pulsing vibrations start to border on painful. He maneuvers out of his boxers then and strokes his hard cock, getting off on the sight of you whining and whimpering and weeping with overstimulation.
Then he starts to shift his place on the bed, moving so he's situated between your legs.
"Joel - wait - "
You want him inside you - of course you do - but every nerve ending in your body is pleading for respite, tingles of pleasure fading into an arduous sting more akin to pins and needles.
But Joel's already lining his thick cock up to your throbbing hole, sinking himself into you and holding the toy steady against your clit as he does.
"I can't, Joel, I can't - " you shriek as he stretches you open.
"Yes you can, sweetheart. Been so good for me."
That has you moaning out again, the praise softening the ache of the overwhelming sensitivity. You turn your head (like that could help you get away) while Joel fucks in and out of you with brutal force, the toy still violently buzzing against your clit, so good it hurts - and you can't stop it - tears prick at your eyes and spill out into your ears.
"So pretty when you cry, angel," he grunts as he fills you to the brim with each punishing thrust.
"Fuuuuuck, Joel, please..."
You're not even sure what you're begging for anymore.
Because despite it all, you feel pressure building inside you again, excruciating sobs fading back into moans of bliss as another climax starts to bubble in your core.
Joel senses it.
"That's it, sweetheart," he keens, his voice hoarse and hungry. "You're gonna give me another one, aren't you?"
You didn't think it possible but your body can't contain it - Joel's cock taking up your cunt and the sensation of the toy assaulting your clit turns the pain to pleasure one last time and -
"Yes - yes - yes - Joel, I'm gonna come - "
Joel groans ravenously when you come for the second time around his cock with a laboured cry, squeezing and soaking him and you swear you feel yourself black out for a second, seeing spots as your body goes numb, Joel still crushing his hips into yours with tenacious force.
"So good, baby, so good for me..."
But his voice sounds very far away now, as he throws the toy down on the bed, still humming away, gripping your sides furiously and pounding into your limp form, desperately searching for his own release.
You're distantly aware of his noisy grunt when he comes inside you, his broad form hunching over you, his muscles trembling as he fills you with his hot seed.
You're still whimpering away under him, pussy spent and sore. Joel pulls out and you gasp at the feeling of his length sliding through your wasted folds. He quietly helps remove the restraints from your wrists and ankles while you stay perfectly still, save for the aftershocks still sending shivers through your depleted form.
Jesus-fucking-Christ.
Joel chuckles. Had you said that out loud?
At last, you bring your knees together, hips and thighs aching and weak. You curl into Joel's chest, sticky with sweat, slowly coming down and melting into a hazy state of euphoria.
"Was that too much?" Joel asks a little too knowingly (the bastard), still out of breath as he gently wipes away stray tears from your cheeks.
You just laugh, too blissed-out to reem him out properly.
"Nah, I think I could do one more round," you say sardonically.
"Oh yeah?"
Joel snakes a hand down between your bodies, slipping his fingers between your legs to barely hover them over your mound and you physically jolt away from the touch, a pathetic whine escaping your lips as you squeeze your legs shut tight defensively. "You sure about that?"
You shudder without meaning to, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth.
"Okay, fine, give me a few days," you concede with a contented sigh.
Of course, it’ll be miracle number five if you can even walk by then.
END.
just tagging some folks who i think will be interested (aka the people who replied to the teaser post and who liked my tag list post earlier today) (some tags didn't work, i've crossed out those ones sorry babies)
@pedgito @midnightswithdearkatytspb @eviiyone @joelscruff @chaseispunk @cutesyscreenname @beskarandblasters @tieronecrush
@lovebandrry @megangovier20 @eggnox @strang3lov3 @detectivedaughter @pedrostylez @sad-smol-princess @moriartyyouwhore @ievutebebe @fandomoniumflurry @kamcrazy123 @livinxdeadxgrl @isitcool-thatisaidallthat
@gold-dust-prude
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preciousamethyst · 6 months
Text
Dad Gojo asking to watch your child, so you could have the day to yourself and with a few of your friends. It has been a while, and you need some time to relax and have some fun. When that day came you were making up excuses to stay but he reassured you that everything would be fine.
"If we have to go out I already have the car seat in my car and the diaper bag is already packed. Don't stress yourself out I got this." He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close so you were looking into his shiny blue eyes.
Dad Gojo who sees you are still a little antsy with a cute little pout on your face as he rocks you back and forth. He stares at your gorgeous face as it relaxes. With a heavy sigh falling from your lips, you nod your head.
"Alright I’ll go but if anything goes wrong while I'm gone you better call me." “Okay I promise to call you if anything happens” he snickers. You gently punch his chest. "I mean it Gojo. No funny business.”
Dad Gojo who just smirks and gives you slow tender kiss on your lips all while getting a taste of the juice you had for breakfast. "Mmmm just focus on relaxing and having a good time for me baby."
Dad Gojo who holds the cute one year-old in his arms as he stood at the front door watching you get into the car with your friends. You look over out of the passenger window. "Say bye-bye to mommy" he whispers. He waves his hand, and a little tiny hand sticks out and waves too.
Dad Gojo who blows raspberries on their chubby cheeks making them laugh and smile. Gojo couldn't help but smile as he got the little bag filled with necessities and walk out of the door.
Dad Gojo who watches you wave back and blow a kiss towards the both of you. Once out of sight Gojo smiles to himself and shut the door. "Now that mommy is gone we can do whatever we want. Nobody can stop us now."
Dad Gojo who took them to the park, took them to get ice cream, took them to the mall, and surprisingly they were still awake. That didn’t last long. When he was driving his way back home after grocery shopping he couldn't help but gush at the sleeping little cutie in his rearview mirror.
Dad Gojo who got them ready for bed before doing some chores around the house. As he was finishing cleaning up the kitchen he heard a car door slam. The front door opened and shut and when he turned around he was greeted with a familiar face.
"Had a good time today?" You just hummed as you hugged him. "They didn't give you any trouble while I was gone?" you asked with your face on his chest. "No honey everything was fine. They are asleep now so it's just me and you for the rest of the night." You looked up into his blue eyes and just smiled.
Dad Gojo who gives you a sweet peck on your lips. A peck that turned into a tender make-out session in your shared kitchen. With his hands moving pass your lower back. Pulling away he can see that look into your eyes and he immediately knows where this is going.
"You know it has been a while since we had time to ourselves." Your hands rubbed his chest before you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Yes it has, and I think we should get down to business before we get interrupted." He giggles into your ear and kisses your neck. You began to giggle and squirm into his arms but then you heard little, tiny footsteps behind you.
Dad Gojo who groans on the inside that he was so close, but he just smiled as he looked down to see the little child hugging your leg. He watches as you turn around and pick them up in your arms.
"Come on time for you to go back to bed your still sleepy" you kissed their cheek multiple times making them laugh but then they let out a big yawn.
Dad Gojo who watches you walk out of the kitchen and down the hall to your child's bedroom. With a sway of your hips, he could feel himself getting stiff again. Well, that was nice while it lasted but once you are in the bedroom he is not wasting any time continuing what he started.
Feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog. Please DO NOT repost or copy any of the stories I create/created anywhere else. ©Precious Amethyst
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oharaslover · 3 months
Text
for the first time
part two of still beating
Tumblr media
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: smut, oral (f receiving), somehow even more angst, death, blood
author’s note: should i be mentally preparing for the ‘when i catch you ricky’ comments 🌚 all jokes aside, thank you for all the suggestions that you guys sent <3
word count: 4.1K
still beating (part one)
Leaving the Spider Society was much easier than you expected it to be, nobody really questioning you out of the belief that it was because of what Miguel had done. While seeing his face around the building everyday wasn't exactly the most pleasant feeling, the main reason as to why you'd left was to be able to carry out the pregnancy in peace. You wanted to rid yourself of the stresses that came along with being in the society, those including the ones that were caused by your coworkers. You started the process of removing yourself from the society slowly, starting out with coming into the building less and less. Before anyone could realize what your intentions had been, you had already left.
"Make sure you come to visit us, okay? We can't wait to see you with the baby," Gwen told you as you were getting ready to leave everything behind. You knew that hiding out in your universe was too risky, that it would be the first place that Miguel would ever think to look for you so you decided to take refuge in another universe. "I'll do that, stay safe. And take care of each other," you responded, her arms wrapping around your torso ever so gently. After the initial interaction that the both of you had, the two of you started going out for lunch and hosting game nights with Hobie and Pav. You glanced over at Hobie who leaned against the wall, knowing that he'd be less receptive towards a hug.
You extended your hand out, his engulfing yours as he dapped you up. "Take care of yourself, lass. And of the lil one there," Hobie told you as he let go of your hand, getting off from the wall before glancing over at Gwen. They were about to leave before you decided to call out to them once more, a small smile on your face as you looked at them. "Thank you for everything, You guys didn't need to show me the kindness that you did," you told them, a curt nod from both of them in response before they walked away. You looked down at the small duffel bag you'd packed with a few pairs of clothes and some bare necessities, wondering if this was the best decision though you already knew the answer, tapping some buttons on your gizmo to open up a portal.
Before you could leave the universe, you knew that there was something that you should do first. You ended up at an apartment on the Lower East Side, nimble fingers knocking on the door as you waited for some type of response. After waiting for what seemed to be around five minutes, you decided to turn around and start to head back home when you heard the door open. Miguel's girlfriend before you stood in front of the door, her expression painted with annoyance as she looked at you. You'd considered if this was truly a good idea for a couple minutes before coming here, ultimately deciding that you should at least offer her an apology for your actions.
"Come in," she finally spoke up for a minute, almost like she was expecting Miguel to appear behind you. You stepped into her apartment, immediately getting welcomed by the smell of wood burning at the fire place. You glanced over at the sofa she was sitting at, your eyes silently asking her if you could take a seat. She nodded, motioning for you to take a seat and so you did. "I'm sorry about what I did to you. I should've respected you and your relationship at the time but I let my selfish desires get the best of me," your apology came out a bit awkward, but it was genuine.
"I'm not sure that Miguel or I respected our relationship all that much at the time, but you're right. It was really fucking awful seeing him with you, acting the way that I wanted him to for months," she responded, folding her arms across her chest. "With that being said, I acknowledge the courage that it must've taken you to come here and I respect the fact that you're willing to look me in the eye to apologize. But I don't forgive you," she added, making your head lower a bit in shame. "You're completely entitled to that. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry about the way things went down. And I hope that you don't think him cheating was a reflection on you, you seem like a very lovely person," you finished up, getting up from the couch after you finished speaking.
You knew that expecting forgiveness was a bit of a long stretch, but at least you felt that weight of guilt lifted off of you the slightest bit. As you stepped out on the street, you tapped a couple buttons on your gizmo to a random universe before taking off your watch when the portal appeared. You stepped inside, unsure of what to expect out of the new environment that you would be living in from now on. The universe that you'd landed on only had a few minor differences such as tree placement and the billboards that were present, otherwise remaining a perfect copy of Earth-928. You made your way down the streets, finding that the streets were the same as what they used to be. You stopped in front of the coffee shop that you used to frequent, deciding to get yourself a drink.
You weren't trying too hard to forget about what Miguel had made you feel, but you felt all the air leave your lungs as you looked at this version of him. It felt exactly like the first time you'd seen him, only now with the previous memories of what the other one had done. You'd bumped into him after you were making your way out of the coffee shop, your cup spilling to the floor as a result. This version of him looked like he was 25-26, still in graduate school based off the books he was gripping so tightly in his arms. "Sorry about that, are you okay?" He asked, your eyes drifting up to his face. "I'm okay, sorry about bumping into you. I wasn't paying attention," you lied to him, rubbing the back of your neck.
The truth was, you'd seen him walking out of the Alchemax building across the street and you decided to do the most logical thing, put yourself in his way and 'bump' into him. "Since you spilled your coffee, I can make it up to you by buying you a new one," he suggested, his eyes darting from your spilled cup back to your face. "You don't have to do that, it was my fault," you responded, feeling slightly guilty for the way that you'd chosen to approach this version of Miguel. While you knew that they shared essentially everything about their physical appearance in common, you also knew that you had to approach them as two different people rather than using methods you used on the other Miguel to compensate.
"Well yes, I know that I technically don't have to do anything. But I'm suggesting it to you because I want to," he added, stepping off to the side and opening the door of the coffee shop for you. You stepped inside as he followed suit behind you, standing in the line with you. "I'm Miguel, it's nice to meet you. I can't help but feel like maybe I’ve seen you before," he spoke up after a while, the line moving slowly. You told him your name and dismissed away his concern by telling him that you had a very generic face. "I don't think so, you have the kind of face that's hard to forget. your aura's very.. alluring," he responded to that before the barista called the both of you over.
The two of you sat down, the exchange a bit awkward as you stirred at your coffee with your straw. "What are you studying?" You decided to break the silence and ask him a couple questions about himself, taking a sip from your coffee. "I'm majoring in genetics at Alchemax, though my undergrad was mostly biology based. and you, what'd you study for?" He asked, leaning over the table slightly as you told him your answer. "So why genetics?" You followed up, hoping that he'd be more receptive to answering questions about himself than his other version was.
"Frankly, the main reason I chose to get into genetics was because my father works at Alchemax so I kind of grew up around that environment. But I want to make some kind of change in the world and the way that diseases are managed rather than take advantage of the resources that are given like most geneticists end up doing," he explained, allowing you to get a glimpse of just how protective and caring he seemed to be past his exterior.
The conversation flowed easily between the two of you, having you delve into some details about your life without elaborating too much on where you were from before he had told you that he had to go. "Sorry about that, i have to go pick up my brother Gabriel from soccer practice since I took the car today. I'd love to talk to you more if you're down, Do you mind giving me your number?" he told you before he he left, looking at you expectantly. You hadn't even thought about that aspect moving into this universe, your mind rushing to make up an excuse that didn't make you seem uninterested in him. "I just got my phone stolen actually. I'm about go get a new one though, if you want to give me your phone number instead," you responded, watching as he grabbed a napkin and a pen to scribble down his number.
Despite the fact that you'd rushed off to buy a cell phone after your interaction with Miguel, you couldn't help but feel hesitant as you played with the paper he'd given you. The knowledge that you were an anomaly in this universe wasn't lost upon you, that even with every breath that you took, you were threatening the balance of this universe and the natural flow of events. You knew that just by texting Miguel at this moment, you'd possibly be disturbing with the stability of the canon. But no matter how wrong it felt to do it, being around him and talking to him just felt so right and easy.
You: Hey, it's the girl from the coffee shop :-) it was really nice talking to you
Miguel: Hey! I was looking forward towards your text, I really had a good time with you today. I hope you don't mind me being forward but would you like to hangout some other time?
You: Before we do, there's actually something I have to disclose to you.
Miguel: Oh no, you're an alien right?
You: Not quite LOL, just pregnant.
You bit down on your lower lip as you waited for a text back from him, feeling uneasy at the way he would react. You counted down the seconds as he typed out his response, anticipation building up as you saw the bubbles appearing on your screen.
Miguel: That doesn't change my opinion on you, I still want to get to know you better if the baby daddy doesn't have any objections towards that.
You: No, you don't have to worry about that, he's not in the picture.
Miguel: Okay, well there's this Italian restaurant with really good pasta on 80th street. I'm free on Saturday at 7 if that works for you.
You: See you then :)
The first date with Miguel went better than you'd expected, the rush of excitement that you'd felt when seeing him the first time sticking throughout the whole experience. Dates between the two of you were simple, having a good time no matter where the two of you ended up. He made you sure to be consistent with the attention that he was giving you after that despite the many commitments in his life, such as finishing up grad school, having an internship at Alchemax, and tutoring a kid named Peter Parker. He made sure to bring you your favorite flowers at the beginning of each new date, often spoiling you with whatever you had a craving for that day. A couple of months had passed since you had started the relationship with Miguel, the feeling of bliss never ending whenever you were with him.
The two of you were out walking in the street after catching a movie, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he held you close to him. "Miguelll, I'm kinda hungry for some Chipotle. I have such a craving for Mexican food," you whined, feeling your stomach grumble afterwards. "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just say Chipotle was Mexican food and move on to my next point. They just closed so you're gonna have to pick somewhere else," he answered, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It's called Chipotle Mexican Grill," you countered, hearing him let out a small groan. "I can take you back to my place. I made some carne guisada earlier," he suggested, your mouth watering at just the anticipation. (stewed meat)
"This is like the best thing ever," you practically moaned out as you bit into the piece of meat that he'd given you. "Better than Chipotle, you'd say?" He asked, sitting down across from you as you ate. "Definitely. I mean, I like chipotle but for some reason their beans always make me have to go to the bathroom," you responded, not really measuring your words as you spoke. "Well, my food's never been the result of anyone's chorro so I think you'll be good," he told you, pouring you a small glass of water before setting it down. "Where'd you learn how to cook like this?" You inquired, watching as brows knitted together before he spoke again. "My mom's Mexican so there was always that sort of element around the house. I ended up visiting a couple years back and I sort of learned the cuisine from the locals."
You and Miguel were laying down in bed after dinner, his head in between your legs since he'd read somewhere that orgasms were good for the cramps that you'd been having. "Miguel, would you still like me if I was a worm?" You asked him, feeling his tongue circle around your clit before stopping. "You're asking me this right now?" He asked, looking up at you as his fingers went inside of you. "Yes. More specifically, a pregnant worm," you elaborated, a small chuckle coming out of his mouth as he shook his head. "Yes, I’d love you even if you were a pregnant worm. I'd stick you in my pocket and take you to work. Feed you little insects and whatnot," he responded, his mouth going back to what it was doing before.
Your mouth parted as you felt his tongue running across your folds, collecting the slick that'd been dripping out from his ministrations. You felt yourself unraveling with every stroke of his tongue, your pleasure being his priority in the moment as he plunged his fingers deep into your cunt. You felt yourself clench around the two fingers he had inside of you, your slick coating them to provide with an easier access. "Don't stop, please," you begged, feeling yourself approaching that familiar point of an orgasm. "Don't worry nena, I wasn't planning to," he told you, keeping the same pace as he worked you through your orgasm. Your fingers fisted at his hair, hitting your peak just a couple seconds later.
You woke up the next morning, feeling incredibly relieved. you weren't too sure if Miguel was right about the orgasms or if it was simply because you'd slept near him, but you didn't have it in you to question it. He'd gotten up earlier than you, already dressed in a button down and and jeans by the time you were up. "I can leave if you want me to. I don't want to impose," you told him, getting up from the bed as you tried to fix up your sleep ridden appearance. "I don't mind, you can stay here. I think I'll be home late from work but I'll send you a message to confirm later. Te quiero, stay safe," he told you, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead before he went out to his class.
A lingering feeling followed you throughout the evening, a feeling of impending doom and misery. You’d been helping out around the city when you weren’t with Miguel but you'd chosen to skip out on patrolling the city tonight, figuring that the Spider-Man of this universe could handle the task and decided to treat yourself a bit with some snacks from a bodega near by. You looked down at your phone, biting down at your bottom lip as you scrolled through the vast majority of texts that Miguel had sent you. He'd simply told you that he would be staying late today because he had something to finish up at work but the more time that passed, the more that your concern grew. Seven o'clock turned into eight, eight turning into nine.
You didn't want to be that type of clingy partner, but you grabbed a spare key card and decided to go pay Miguel a visit at work to make sure he was doing okay. The sounds of sirens distracted you from your worry, the police car practically zooming down the street as other cars opened up a pathway for it to pass. You weren't sure what it was, whether it was a form of intuition or simply just a gut feeling, but you decided to follow that cop car. Police tape had been set up at the scene where the cop car stopped at, a crowd building up around it. The snacks that you'd eaten earlier began to taste bitter in your mouth as you made your way through the crowd, eyes widening as you saw the person laying there.
Your airway felt constricted as you looked down at the floor, seeing Miguel on the floor with a gunshot wound to his chest. You could feel people looking at you as you struggled to breathe, but your attention was solely on the man lying in the cold pavement while the police waited for the coroner to arrive. "Ma'am?" A police officer asked, wanting to evaluate the situation before making any sudden movements. "Please, let me through. That's my boyfriend," you pleaded, managing to get the words out despite how heavy your tongue felt in your own mouth. Your caution about getting caught by this universe's Spider-Man went out the window, simply concerned about assessing Miguel. The officer asked one of his partners if all the evidence was collected before letting you into the scene.
You got down on the pavement, practically on your knees as your hand reached over to grab Miguel's. The usual warmth that he exuded was gone, simply replaced by the cold reminder of death. You kept looking over at him, almost expecting him to rise and tell you that it was just a cruel joke and that everyone had been in on it. You looked down at the puddle of blood that built up around him, the life escaping from his body with every liter that he'd lost. The police explained to you that according to the security footage from a store nearby, he got cornered by a couple men in a ski mask in the alley. They'd threatened him for his wallet and other personal belongings, shooting him when he'd resisted far too much. You reached into his pockets, finding out that they’d taken his things after they’d shot him which meant the resistance he’d put up had been for naught.
You knew that Miguel's death was a canon event for the Spider-Man of this universe, that losing a mentor was necessary for the self-perseverance that Peter had building up but you didn't understand why it had to be your Miguel. You'd never felt so useless and guilty in your life, thinking about how maybe you've could've stopped this if you'd just gone on patrol for the night. Though it might've done more harm to the universe than good, you wanted to be selfish and just feel Miguel's embrace one more time. Feel the warmth of his hugs as he held you close to his chest, his head resting on top of yours.
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you forced yourself to trudge forward and head home before you ended up getting robbed in the middle of the street too. Left foot forward, right foot follow. You felt yourself having to make the involuntary movements that your body naturally made, the exhaustion of the day taking its toll on you. You stopped in the middle of the street, feeling a burning sensation in your throat as you leaned over to vomit. You weren't sure if it was the snacks that you'd had earlier or an effect of what you'd seen earlier, possibly a combination of the both of them. When you stood up straight and wiped away the vomit from your face, your attention immediately went to the portal appearing in front of you.
Talons ripped the ends of the portal, almost like the person behind it was too impatient to wait for it to open. Miguel came out and looked over at you, deactivating the head piece of his costume just so you could see the annoyance that this little stunt had caused him. "We need to talk," he told you, making it seem like you were in rather for a scolding than having a simple conversation. His eyes flickered down to the little bump on your belly, his eyes softening just the slightest bit before he looked up at you with that cold expression once more. There was nothing promising in this universe for you anymore, so you decided to follow him back to the Spider Society.
Miguel led you to his office once the two of you arrived back at the society, the stares and whispers of the other members following suit. "LYLA, don't have anyone bother me right now," Miguel spoke up, his assistant appearing and nodding before disappearing off once more. You waited for him to say something to you, anything to make this conversation go faster so you didn't have to be in the same room with him much longer. The sensation of wanting to be the furthest away from him right now felt foreign to you, especially when you often longed for the moment that he would pay some attention to you even if it was only for a couple seconds. "Do you have any idea of the damage that you could've done to that universe had you interfered with any canon event?!"
Seeing Miguel's anger felt strange to you, always having seen it directed towards someone else rather than towards you. You weren't sure if you should try to give him your explanation or let him yell it out, choosing to go for the first option. "Nothing happened though! At least nothing that wasn't supposed to," You responded, starting to feel a bit lightheaded. You padded over to a spare chair he had in his office, his back hunching over his desk the same way you'd seen many times before. "I want to be mad for you for doing such a stupid thing but I realize that i'm the one that led you to that," he spoke up after a couple seconds, facing you once more as he rubbed a hand through his chest.
You were expecting for that to be the end of the 'conversation', standing up from your spot to leave his office. "Hou don't know how hard it was to look at you through those monitors and see you getting the attention you deserved from a variant of myself. You don't know how much I longed for that to be me, to be me that you called when you had a craving for Chipotle in the middle of the night or be the one that you confided in," he spoke up before you had the chance to leave, your head turning so fast that you almost gave yourself whiplash. "You could've had that. Everything that happened was your fault," you replied, your voice showing no remorse for what happened. "You think I don't know that? I’m well aware of what I did, but I still selfishly want to be a part of your life and the baby’s," His voice sounded pained as he spoke, his figure approaching you slowly.
"Please. Just give me the chance to be in our baby's life. That's all I ask of you," he pleaded,  desperation evident from the way that he looked at you with such longing. "You have some nerve still asking for something from me! Do you expect me to forget about everything and want me to co-parent with you?!" Your voice boomed through the empty office, your voice bouncing through the walls as they made their way into Miguel's ears. "Please, I'm begging you. I just want the opportunity to be a father to our baby," he added, reaching out to grab you before his hands fell slack by his sides. "NO!" You responded, a sudden pop coming out between your legs as a gush of liquid followed suit.
@mimiemie @laysmt @6thhokageswife @mochimoqa @nifeout @loonalockley @syrzx
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taintandviolent · 11 months
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In the end of the night, I can feel your warmth. (Kyle Spencer x Reader)
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summary: zombies eat brains... not pussies. WRONG. they actually eat them really well. 2.9K words!
warnings: 18+ below the cut!! smut (female receiveing), heavy heavy cunnilingus, s*xual guiding/coaching, praise (male receiving), carnal instincts, unga bunga brain Frankenkyle because it’s a serious problem I have, uhhhhhhh.
tags: @darlingjimmy @petersevans @kaiju-superstar @redwoodghost @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @iluwmycats @kai-slut @kaissweetlamb @twinkiemaximoff @evanpetersfansblog @spill-the-t @eventually27 @stucktothetwo @kai-andersons-blog @kai-anderson-whore @evansb1tch @viharmonscorner @yesdevineruler @anonymous0316 @enchanting-evan @fuckedbykai @nova-kayne67
ao3 link here! Full link below the cut!! Thank you to @redwoodghost​ and @kaiju-superstar​ for yet AGAIN beta-reading and sending me to the clouds.
“Mmmph….”
Three days earlier.
After a series of life altering events, you’d finally thrown your hands up and run away from home. The destination? Miss Robichaux’s School for Gifted Young Women, located in the mysterious city of New Orleans. As you rode the bus, one backpack stuffed with clothes and jewellery clutched tightly to your chest like a child, vibrant images of vampires, witches and voodoo danced in your dreams.
You saw yourself as a plain Jane who had been a little too influenced by the occult at a young age. A typical girl who had grown up on Stevie Nicks and tarot cards, you had never considered yourself particularly remarkable, though you’d always had a knack for making things happen a little too easily. Teachers and parents had always described you as an influential young woman — a deceptive umbrella term that hardly scratched the surface. You weren’t writing persuasive essays or excelling in Speech and Debate, you were sticking your fingers into someone’s mind like playdoh and rewiring it to do exactly what you wanted.
It was that deceptive umbrella term that brought you to Louisiana to begin with; you’d felt unheard, unseen, and misunderstood. You were struggling and nobody had the capacity to unravel your problems.
Cordelia, who was easily one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, welcomed you into her office. The interview was brief but compassionate. She’d asked you to explain what brought you to her home, what you felt your “powers” were, and reached to touch the top of your hand when you struggled with that word. She lingered, staring deeply at your fingers. After a moment, she inhaled and spoke again.
“Nothing is silly here. You’re safe. Everything you’ve thought was make-believe or… or childish isn’t. The world runs on magic.”
Cordelia had called one of the other girls into her office and given you an encouraging nod. The girl, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, had jet black hair, and large glasses. She looked deeply frightened and you almost felt bad when you made her crawl on the floor like a crab before standing up and clapping excitedly. It took very little effort for you, Cordelia noted and wrote something on a piece of paper in your file.
Whatever you’d done, you’d done it correctly. Shortly after that, a girl named Zoe showed you to your new room. She was sweet, kind — the sort of woman that you thought would listen to every side of every story before making any judgements. She used to be a student witch here, she explained as you two walked, but she'd risen in the ranks and become so busy with being the Council — something very important, a hierarchy of witches — that she didn’t have time for the things she used to focus on.  
Zoe opened the tall door, letting you step in first. Well-lit by the large and ornately trimmed windows, the room was white, matching the scheme of the rest of the mansion. Sparsely decorated, there were the necessities in terms of furniture and nothing else. There were two beds at opposite sides of the room… and a blonde boy sat cross-legged on the one closest to the door. His expression was blank, but his brows were laced together, conveying some sort of unknown sadness.
“This is Kyle. He…” she trailed off, her voice sounding unsteady. “He died. Madison and I, we… we put him back together and brought him back.”
You snapped your head to face her, jaw hanging slack in disbelief. “Put him back together? Like Frankenstein?”
Zoe nodded, and reached out to stroke his fluffy blonde curls. While he remained stoic, you noticed the tiniest flinch in his cheek muscles. The way she looked at him… you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. There was history here. “He’s not the same. He tries though.”
She straightened out her frown, visibly trying to move on from the memories.
“This used to be my room. But…” She dropped her hand to her side. He flinched more visibly. “It’s yours now.”
Zoe had told you that all Kyle needed was macaroni, kid’s shows on YouTube, and he wouldn’t bother you. For the first night, you conceded with those recommendations because his outbursts overwhelmed you.
On the second night, you woke up to the sound of rustling. Kyle sat upright in his bed, sheets draped over his lap, staring towards the window. You sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up to your chest. He turned to look at you and shrunk away from your gaze, ashamed. He quickly returned to a lying position, like a child who had gotten yelled at. The apprehension you possessed on the first night had morphed into wonderment. A reanimated boy, who despite being pieced together still had some semblance of sentience and emotion. It may have been cliche to analyze it through a Shelley-esque eye… but with sentience, came love. And with love, agony was sure to follow. You’d always been particularly enraptured with the idea of a monster needing love, trying desperately to understand it.
A line from Frankenstein came to mind as you watched him staring straight up at the ceiling, hoping you wouldn’t notice he wasn’t asleep. “I have a love in me the likes of which can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”
So… what if you satisfied the first? Perhaps all he needed was some tenderness, some attentiveness.  
“Kyle?”
No response. You swung your legs out from underneath the covers, planting your bare feet on the wooden floors. In only your nightgown, the chill of the air bit at your exposed limbs, prompting you to slip your arms into the lacy, green sleeves of your robe.
“Kyle? You wanna look at the moon?”
This time, he turned his head on the pillow to look at you. You began moving carefully towards him.
“You want to? The moon?” You asked again, making a circle shape with your hands and then unrolling them to point towards the window. He nodded, showing understanding. Clumsily, he threw the covers off him and got to his feet.
You took one step. He followed, ambling heavily behind you until you both stood close enough to the window to feel the chill that permeated the glass. He sighed heavily, the sound resonating in his broad chest. It was the first time you’d heard any sort of happy sound from him. His knuckles brushed against yours, but despite the quivering in your abdomen, you didn’t reach out to hold his hand. You wanted to, though. Very, very much.
On the third night, you woke up to the sounds.
“Mmmmmph! Mmm…arrr…. Mmmm…. ow.”
You rubbed your eyes, rousing yourself. Instead of being in his own bed, like he usually was, Kyle sat at the foot of yours, his legs pulled to his chest. “What? What’s wrong?”
He grunted again, scooting closer to you on the bed. Although the room was dark, the small night light in the corner illuminated just enough of his face to show the pained expression, the stress in his dark eyes.
“Kyle? What’s the matter? Try…” You whispered. “Are you hurt?”
He nodded. Then shook his head. “Hmmmph… I’m……”
“You’re what? What is it?”
He struggled to speak, but what did come out sounded distinctly like your own name.
Kyle’s head dropped heavily to his chest, shamefully looking down at his erection as it tented his boxers. He lifted his eyes, staring at you from underneath his heavy brow and fluffy locks. Both hands clenched into fists, he pressed down into his groin, moaning.
Oh…. Oh fuck, you thought. Oh my fucking god, he’s got a boner.
“It’s okay,” you reassured. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of… it’s normal. O-kay.”
Poor thing. He doesn’t know what to do…. He’s asking for help. He looked into your eyes with the most soulful, desperate pleading you’d ever seen. No man, even more together than him, had ever asked you for help like this. There was something underneath, another stain on his heart. You could feel it when your eyes locked for a second too long — but that wasn’t important. It didn’t change what you were about to do.
You fingered the ruched elastic of his boxers, scooping it towards you. The taut skin of his stomach was warm, and the heat increased as you neared the bush of hair. Kyle groaned and cloddishly bucked his hips to force your hand farther down. The searing hot tip slipped against the back of your hand, leaving a streak of precum on your skin.
“P……l…eaaasse…..” His chest was heaving up and down, forcing excited little breaths out of his open mouth.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and gripped his cock gently. It twitched against your hand and you felt another hot, viscid ribbon coat your knuckles. Oh fuck. He jerked his hips again as you began stroking, smearing his wetness along the shaft. He slackened the muscles in his neck, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.
“Good? Does that feel better?”
His head moved on you, up and down, so you assumed it did. You decided to test it by going a little faster, and squeezing his cock a little harder. Instead of the guttural, almost pained groans  he’d given you before, the most pathetic little whimper left his throat. You lifted your gaze to the ceiling, rolling your eyes back. He was putty in your grip, begging for you with every muscle in his body. And that… drove you insane.
Carefully, quietly… you reached to your legs, gathering the edge of your nightgown into your palm, pulling it up your thigh until you had enough room to reach your own arousal. Wasting no time, you circled your clit slowly, slipping a finger inside between rotations.
“AAAAAGUHHH!”
You clapped your hand over Kyle’s mouth, eyes widening like saucers in the dark. You whispered louder than you ever had in your entire life. “Shhh! Kyle! Shhh!” He breathed hard out his nose. “I can’t help you if you’re loud… they’ll hear you.”
Underneath your fingers, Kyle’s plush lips parted just enough for you to notice. You froze. He looked down as far as his ocular anatomy allowed and his pupils dilated, the blackness consuming the already deep brown. His tongue swept across the underside of your fingers before forcing itself between them. He gripped your hand tightly at the wrist and yanked it down in a startling display of his inhuman strength.
“Wuh…. Want.”
You jerked your head back, confused. “What?”
He brought your hand back up, and like a child claiming that a toy was his, Kyle licked your pointer and index finger from the base to the tip of them. He swallowed.
“Waant….”
Holy shit. You realised. You realised what it was he wanted…. The hand you’d used to cover his mouth was that hand that you’d previously been fingering yourself with, the fingers that were coated in your own wetness. He wanted… that.
Nervously, you pulled your hand from his boxers, the elastic snapping against his tummy. You nodded once and inhaled a deep breath through your nose, a feeble attempt at pacifying the bundle of live wires you called your nerves. Kyle’s eyes never left yours, watching you intently as you planted your hands on either side of your body as leverage to push yourself back towards the head of the bed. You laid back on the pillow, knees touching and obscuring Kyle.
When you opened them, your breath rushed out from your lungs. He was so pretty, the way the moonlight illuminated his curls like an angel’s halo, outlining his broad form. His plaid shirt hung open, teasing at the body beneath. And then, of course, there was the erection. The fabric of his boxers were pulled tight.
You tilted your head down, pressing your chin against your chest. Your eyes were misty, doe-like, and you almost stuck your fingers in his mind to tell him to come to you. But he did it on his own accord and your heart gave an adoring flutter. Coming forward onto his hands, Kyle crawled on the bed to you, and you welcomed him in between your thighs. He lowered himself down onto his stomach.
“Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, Kyle…”
Kyle opened his mouth on your pussy, lapping at it hungrily. The smoothness of his teeth grazed your clit, and the heat of your arousal was unimaginable, burning deep within your core. You’d been eaten out, but not eaten out. Not like this. Zombies ate brains, not pussies.
And yet… you were being devoured within an inch of your life. Every clench brought out more cum, and Kyle was there to drink it up, flicking his tongue from your entrance to your clit repeatedly, until your vision went blurry with twinkling stars. Every time his tongue returned to its starting position, he always lingered and sometimes slipped in, delving into something he wanted more of. He was tasting you over and over again. Your mouth opened, at first giving nothing but the sound of your breath. His lips closed around your clit, his tongue driving up into your entrance, and a high pitched whine clawed its way out of your throat.
And just like that, the pleasure was gone. Kyle pulled away, panicked.
“Bad?!”  
You shook your head quickly, panting. “No, no…. Good. Very good, Kyle.”
His worried expression softened slightly, but he still looked unsure and scared to keep going. The sound you’d made… all he knew told him it was that he’d done something wrong and he’d hurt you.
“B….buh….. bad…… sssssound…..”
“Nonononono. Very… very good. I made that sound because it feels good. You’re doing a good job.”
He huffed out a breath, the warmth of it washing over you. You writhed, the backs of your thighs rubbing against his bare shoulders. Bent at the elbows, Kyle wrapped his forearms around your legs, wide hands twitching ever so slightly as they caressed you. There was something overwhelmingly erotic in the way he fearfully looked up at you from between your legs. You drew your bottom lip in, biting down as hard as you could to stifle the moan that threatened.
“Please,” you whined. “You’re doing so good, Kyle. It feels so good. You like it, right?”
He nodded, dropping his gaze to look at your cunt, a puddle forming on sheets below. His jaw hung slack as he went back in, his lips enveloping you fully. His tongue was hot and you were sensitive, writhing in his grip. You weren’t aware that you were writhing away from him until his fingers came to life, digging deep into the soft flesh of your thighs.
You arched your back as you came on his tongue, taking fistfuls of the sheets and tightening until you felt the fibres squeak against each other. Kyle growled into your cunt, pulling you closer into him. His tongue flattening against you, feeling the pulsating clenches as they happened.
Kyle straightened up to his knees, stiffly pulling his boxers down over the curve of his ass. His stiff cock sprung free, the swollen head, red and leaking. He seemed to know what he wanted to do, but didn’t know where to start. You scooted down, pressing your legs further open. Kyle shuffled forward on the bed, the springs creaking underneath you.
“It’s okay, Kyle… it’s okay.” Keeping your eyes on him, you took hold of his cock again and gently guided it towards your wet slit. “I’ll make you feel better.”
He allowed himself to be guided, following your direction. His squishy tip slipped in, compressed by your tight walls. The sound that Kyle made — something between a choking breath and a groan — was the only warning you got that a switch had flipped. He knew exactly what to do.
Kyle sunk his length into you, taking only a moment to revel in the feeling of your warm, wet insides. He quickly found his rhythm, bucking in and out with steady intention as he watched you with half-lidded eyes, mouth hanging slack. His pelvis slapped against yours, knocking against your clit each time your bodies met. The visual drove you insane, sending streaks of hot arousal right to your core.
“Gggoooooodddd….” He groaned. “G-good.”
He picked up speed, and you desperately tried to maintain coherency, nodding. Your nails dug into his back, holding on as tight as you could. “Guh-HOHm- my god. Good, yes. G-good, baby.”
Kyle’s large hands snaked their way to your shoulders, encasing them in a steely grip. He pulled himself into you, harder and harder until you felt an unfamiliar ache in your insides, where he could go no farther. You came for a second time with a high-pitched whimper and Kyle kept his pace, grunting. Your wetness splashed against your thighs as he thrust into you, and when you lifted your hips up slightly, Kyle’s fingers curled in, clamping down on your shoulders with a crushing strength. You held back your cries of pain, grinding your hips against his as he pumped into you. Just hold on… let him finish….  
Finally, he released his hold on you, collapsing onto your chest with a heavy breath. Once the vigorous movement had subsided, your sweat-soaked bodies were no longer immune to the lithe, chilly fingers of temperature. Still, you were warm underneath him.
So, so warm.
Kyle fell asleep with his cock inside you. And for the first time in three nights, he didn’t wake up once.
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luvit · 3 months
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elli, please, i beg of you, when is the next gaz day???? at this point is a necessity 😫 i need it to survive!!
(gn!reader, mdni 18+)
how abouuuuut TODAY? RIGHT NOW!!!!! to start us off with a bang ;) i'll present to you my hcs on some of gaz's fave kinks + your first time together
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dirty talk - i say this a lot and i stand by it. PREACH it! but gaz is mouthy and loves to let you know how he's feeling. loves to rile you up with that smooth voice of his. without a doubt is really vocal, just wants to tell you what your body and sounds do to his dick. most often his dirty talk comes out in the form of questions, because he loooves to hear you try to respond to him. you're too fucked out to do so most of the time. his favorite phrases are "yea? can you feel me in there? feel how deep i go?" and "can feel you squeezin' down on me. feel that? feel me throbbin' inside of ya?" and especially "god, you feel to good around me. fuckin' perfect. got me begging to give you my dick. because s'yours. all it's gonna be. ever. yours."
recording - if there's anyone who is gonna have material on his phone to fap to later, it's gonna be gaz. don't worry, he wouldn't send it, show it, or post it. that's for his eyes and ears only. nobody needs to be knowing how lovely you sound when he fucks you nice. nobody needs to know how whiny he gets when you fuck him so good. but he loves to watch something for when he's away. misses you so much but the thoughts of you just aren't enough. he'd be horny and cranky forever. getting off on images and videos and audio clips of him fucking you. the ones he loves and treasures most tho are the ones you spontaneously send him, where you're moaning his name and begging for him to cum come sooner so he can properly take care of you
orgasm control - i honestly think that gaz is a switch, dom leaning but not preferential. either way, he loves to give up control or take control and let you know when you can or cannot cum. don't worry, he's not always up for orgasm denial. he wants you to feel good. sometimes too much. in part, he's just so drunk on fucking you and can't get enough of it. truly, honestly, unequivocally thinking with his cockhead. so he keeps making you cum and cum and cum. makes you, begs you too. because he loves the sight of you cumming so much he wants to see more. is always telling you "feel good, baby? yeah? yeah?? so cum then. cum." in a real growly voice. but when you're the one who calls the shots? you're the one who is telling him when he can or can't cum? god, he's begging you to do anything to let him cum. tries sweet talking you and giving you loads of praise and whining. and when you finally do let him cum (or keep making him), he's damn near sobbing out for you and pleading for you. for more or no more, even he doesn't know.
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your first time with gaz, whether or not you or he has had sex before, will definitely be a learning experience for the both of you. he's sweet, really. always putting you first even if you try to get on your knees for him or keep trying to check in. without a doubt, he is constantly asking "is this okay?" or "how would you like me to do this?"
looks to you and your comfort first and foremost :( no matter how hard his dick is and that it's leaking all over his thigh, smearing the precum all around him. he might not get to all the kinky stuff and crazy sex positions from the getgo, no matter if the two of you are experienced or not. but he really wants to make the first time together truly a time together. call him basic or vanilla, he won't care. he really just wants to get the full You experience, yknow?
don't get me wrong tho, mans is crazy after sticking his dick inside. he's taking short breaths bc he thinks he's gonna lose his mind. he might even be biting into your shoulder and clawing at your waist because you feel so good. can't get enough of you. so you better act fast before he starts bucking into you like a maniac. can't help but keep his dick in your hole. he def has to convince you there's a more calm, collected side to him later. he just got excited.
at that point he stops with the "this good?"s and the "how you doing?"s and turns them into "you feel too good, can't get enough. so tight f'me." and "how do you do that? fuck, stop clenchin' on me or i'll cum."
he wants to cum on your tummy for the first time. not inside you or a condom. wants to paint you and cover you with his seed. thrusts into his hand and imagines he's doing that inside you again, other hand rubbing up and down his chest, biting his lip and looking at you with hooded eyes. he hasn't cum harder in his life, he thinks. evident by the way his cum shoots all the way up to your face.
afterwards he just sits on his legs. probably rests his softening dick against you, not expecting anything sexual from it. it's kind of awkward, but a rather intimate moment between the two of you like that. cuddling naked is one of his faves, a sexy yet chaste act between you. give him a moment before he's getting back up to go get you two waters and a rag. on his way he tells you to go to the loo and maybe pick a movie or something to put on in the background. be warned, he might have wandering eyes and hands when he's wiping you down tho.
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do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere (reblogs welcome!)
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hadesrise · 9 months
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘.
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𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞. contrary to popular belief, miguel isn’t a brat.
𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. miguel o’hara x male reader
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. nsfw content, foul language, top!soft dom!reader, bottom!sub!miguel, collar, sir kink, unprotected sex, oral (r receiving), praise kink, breeding, anal plug, orgasm control, overstimulation, name calling (slut & whore), subspace, degradation if you squint, mating press
𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. please correct my spanish if it’s wrong, i’ll edit it immediately.
MINORS, FEM ALIGNED DNI !!
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From the way Miguel acts as a strict, cold, intimidating leader of the Spider Society, people often assume he’s the dominant one when it comes to relationship, the one doing the fucking and not letting anyone have control over him. Nobody could even imagine him being manhandled on the bed, let alone be submissive. If he was the one taking it, he’d probably be as much of a brat as he can.
But you disregard those claims, because contrary to popular belief, Miguel isn’t a brat. He can be if he wants to, such as when the lack of attention from you puts him in a bad mood or he just wants to be pounded so hard he pass away in the end, but in usual cases, he’s far from a brat like anyone imagines. All those trauma and terrible experiences left Miguel aching and bleeding, the necessity to build up thick walls to surround himself overwhelming him as he coated his heart in ice to protect himself. However, it didn’t completely shield him away from his growing need to be held and taken care of. To just melt into someone’s arms without thinking about the multiverse for a second.
It was difficult to get Miguel to open up. Have his walls crumble down, trust you enough to show his vulnerability. But when you managed to get through that side of him, Miguel drastically changed. He was no longer the scary leader nor Spiderman, he was simply a man wanting to be loved and held, encaged by the safety of your arms. It was adorable, really. How he would always lean into your touch and melt into your arms. How he would whimper everytime you take care of him, heart swelling and tears stinging his eyes. How he’s eager to please you, make you feel good like how you make him feel good. How he does everything you ask of him, a big difference to the leader persona he shows in front of the Spider Society.
The door of your bedroom creaks open, causing a small smile to stretch your lips. It’s shut and locked behind the tall and buff frame of your husband before his heavy footsteps approached, you immediately closing your book and setting it on the bedside table. You turn your body to face Miguel, feet touching the floor, and leans back on the soft mattress of the bed using your hands. As if instinctual, Miguel kneels in between your spread legs and snuggles on your thigh, looking up at you through that lashes of his with lust.
You hum appreciatively, loving the way he’s obedient. “What do you want, mi corazon?” You gently slip your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.
Miguel squeezes your thighs, whimpering softly at your touch. “You... Just you, please.” You coo at his begging and cup his jaw with one hand, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his plump lips. “Wan’ you inside, por favor, mi vida, fill me. Breed me.” He whines, rubbing his thighs together to soothe the aching in his crotch.
Your cock hardens in your pants as you breathe deeply, the pretty sounds of him begging striking an arousal within your body. You tilt your head with a soft look in your eyes while your hand continue to hold his jaw, “Again? Sweetheart, I’ve already bred you this morning. I even placed a plug inside you so all of my cum will stay inside. You still want more?” Your tone was soft and soothing, not an ounce of annoyance visible.
Miguel nods almost frantically, leaning into your palm. “Can’t get enough being full of you,” He breathlessly whispered, rubbing your thighs up and down in a slow motion, as if to tempt you. “Please, mi amor.”
You chuckle lowly. Loving this side of Miguel, submissive and vulnerable only for you. Your hand let go of his jaw to instead grab his hand and lead it to your belt, “Undress me yourself. Get my cock all nice and wet, then maybe I’ll think about it.” Miguel was quick to obey as he unbuckled your belt, unbuttoning your pants and sliding it down along with your underwear enough to free your hard cock to spring up. His mouth watered at the sheer length and girth, stroking it gently with his hand. You moan softly, hands going back to the bed to lean back, a silent gesture that implied Miguel’s free to do anything on his own.
He gathered enough spit in his mouth before dripping it on your cock, stroking it up and down afterwards to spread the wetness. The squelching sounds making his face heat up, but not stopping his work nonetheless. Miguel kisses the tip, earning a sigh of content from you, before sliding it into his mouth swiftly. You instantly groan at the warmth that surrounded, his tongue lapping up the underside of your cock, Miguel nearly moaning at the taste of you as his hips buckled. “Go on, Miguel.” You encouraged, thrusting your hips once. This time, he doesn’t suppress a moan as he begins bobbing his head, hand stroking the remaining space where his mouth couldn’t take at the same time with the movement of his head, focused on making you feel good.
You moaned, one hand going up to softly pet his hair as a reward. Miguel whines around your cock in response as he fastens his pace. You can see his hips swaying from this angle, probably fucking himself on the plug using the heel of his feet, but clearly not enough due to the soft whines he lets out.
“Such a desperate little puppy,” The label has him whimpering as he grips your thigh with one hand. “Want me to fuck you so bad? Breed you with my babies?” He nods with a moan, tears staining his cheeks. Your fingers slip through his hair, “Then you can take more, right?” Before he could respond in any way, you pushed his head all the way to the base of your cock as he gags and chokes at your tip touching and nearly stretching his throat. His knees trembling, hands gripping your thighs, Miguel’s vision starts to get unfocused as he takes what you give so obediently. “Fuck, so fuckin’ good,” You hissed.
Miguel doesn’t even fight back when you start to fuck his throat without mercy, occassionally gagging and choking with tears spilling from his eyes, taking you so fucking well like a good slut. He even fucks himself on the plug in time with your thrusts in his throat, having nothing in mind but you, you, you.
God, he fucking loves being used for your own pleasure. He loves hearing your groans and moans, loves making you feel good. Miguel utterly loses himself, the responsibility and burden disappearing from his thoughts, completely submitting to you as he stares at you with love filled eyes, you could almost see a heart in them. He rubs his cock through his pants as you keep abusing his throat, the pleasure of being controlled making him tremble.
After what felt like hours, Miguel finally feels your cock throbbing in his mouth, and he whines, a pleading look appearing in his eyes. “Fuck, cummin’, sweetheart.” You groaned. “Where do you want me, puppy? Your face? Your tits? Down your throat?” Miguel lets out a slutty moan at the last option, making you chuckle breathlessly. “F’course, you want it to be down your throat. My good slut.” You grunted, feeling the knot in your stomach coiling at the approaching orgasm.
Miguel’s eyes roll back when you shoved your cock deeper into his throat and spilled your cum, choking and moaning. He whimpers, swallowing every bit of it. Chest heaving up and down, you take a deep breath and gently stroke his head. “Good boy, Miguel. Swallowing it without being asked.” He keens and looks up at you with a dazed look before pulling back with a pop, making sure to drag his tongue the underside of your cock that made you groan. Miguel licks the tip and press a kiss, his breath heavy from the arousal.
“M’sorry, sir,” Miguel mumbled, kissing your inner thigh with an apologetic look, cheeks stained with tears. “M’so sorry, didn’t mean to,” God, the submissive sounds he keeps letting out makes your head spin. It gives you both the urge to ruin and wreck him as well as spoil him with your love at the same time, knowing how much he deserves both of it. He’s so fucking good for you, you just want to carve every initial of your name in his guts.
“What are you apologizing for, hm?” You pretended not to know why he was apologizing as you hold his cheek with one hand, wiping his tear off with your thumb.
Miguel placed his hand above yours and leaned into your touch, his hips unconsciously swaying when the wet stain in his crotch became uncomfortable. “Didn’t— Didn’t mean to cum, sir, promise. Lo siento, lo siento...” He repeats, closing his eyes and kissing your palm, as if to ask for forgiveness. More tears spilled from his eyes. You could tell he was feeling light-headed, his unfocused vision being the proof of that despite his attempts to shake it off.
He’s been a lot distracted today, that usual snarl of his nonexistent and barks oddly refusing to come out from his mouth. Miles and Gwen were weirded out by his quiet demeanor because this was the first time they had seen Miguel be... at his best behave, he wasn’t throwing chairs or angrily shouting at anything. He didn’t seem to be in a best condition either, just seeming unwell as he forced himself to bark orders as best as he could. Miguel just wanted to be held by you all day, the missions and overwhelming responsibility of the multiverse pressuring him to the edge and exhausting him completely. He’s been fighting the vulnerability, not wanting anyone else to see him like that, forcefully pushing his consciousness away from the space within his mind that tells him to just let everything go. You would occassionally send him worried glances, but you didn’t miss the way he leaned more into you everytime you touched him, nearly melting in your touch.
Ah, so this is why he’s been acting so adorable. You thought, humming in satisfaction. The pleased sound you made caused Miguel to open his eyes again, seeing you smiling softly at him instead of being mad. You usually hated when Miguel cums without permission, but it can’t be helped with that pretty little head of his drowning in that space.
“It’s okay, querido.” His heart fluttered at your softness. “I’m not gonna punish you today, but you know I’m not giving you what you asked for if you do it again, right?” This time, you cupped his face with both hands and kissed him gently.
Miguel whimpers, grateful. “Sí, I’ll be good. I’ll be good, sir.”
“All for me?”
You moved one leg to rub his crotch with your foot, Miguel gasping as he nods vigorously. “Sí, sí, only for you, please.”
“Such a good fuckin’ puppy,” You groan, pulling him up in a heated kiss. Miguel straddles your lap and wraps his muscular arms around your neck, reciprocating the kiss as his hips starts to grind against you, heavenly sounds escaping into your mouth. He moans particularly loud when you slipped a hand inside his pants and lightly pushed the plug, causing the kiss to be broken with a trail of saliva connecting your lips.
“Sir, mhm,” He grunted. “Want— Wan’ to take it off.”
You hum, sliding your other hand down to squeeze his slutty waist that made Miguel’s head spin. Your hands were so big, it could entirely wrap around his waist with ease. It made him ache inside, knowing the size of your hands perfectly matches your cock. “Let me take care of you, puppy. Give in, lose yourself in it, I’ll make you feel so good.” You buried your face in the crook of his neck, before beginning to leave a mark as you bit and sucked harshly. Miguel moans, clinging onto you and giving in, indulging himself more in that safe space that’s been bothering him all day.
With softness in every bit of your movement, you peel off his clothes and drop them to the floor carelessly as your lips work wonders on him; licking, biting, sucking, littering his pretty skin with purple bruises and listening to heavenly sounds leaving his lips. You were so gentle and kind, Miguel can’t help but feel content as he holds onto you for dear life. Laying him down on the bed, you mutter praises in his ear while your hands explore his muscular body. Miguel felt like being worshipped, the intimacy becoming too much that tears escape his eyes and he whimpers.
You gently bit his collar and pulled, making Miguel throw his head back further in the pillow to give you more access, his arms wrapped around your back. “Please, please, sir,” He whispered almost desperately. You hummed in response, to which he whined at. “Fill me, want you already, wan’ your cock.” Begs slipping past his lips, Miguel spreads his legs to present his hole clenching around the plug.
A groan erupts from your throat, licking your lips. “Fuck, good puppy. Knowing how to beg like a slut.”
“Your slut, your puppy, please.” Miguel begs more, grabbing your hand and urging you to touch him.
You shush him gently, “Shh... I’ll take care of you, mi vida. It’s alright.” The reassurance allows him to let go as you reached down and lightly tapped on the plug, making him gasp. Pleas and begs still spilling his lips, Miguel grasped the sheets under him with his head thrown back when you pulled the plug out, your cum from the morning gushing out. He trembles at the feeling and moans softly as you kiss his forehead and then his lips, swallowing another pleas. His insides was aching to be filled and bred, twisting uncomfortably in his belly and increasing his desperation more.
He wanted you, all of you, wanted you to make him yours. He wanted you to let him know who he belongs to and mark his insides with your cum. It doesn’t matter if it makes him look like a desperate whore, a slut, he wants to feel full with your cum as you hold him in your arms. Nothing mattered anymore; his duty, his responsibilities, his position as a leader, his ego, his pride. They didn’t matter. Just you, fucking him, making love to him, breeding him, making him feel content.
Miguel whimpers when you push his legs to his chest and align your cock to his entrance, excitement and anticipation bubbling within his body. His hands latches onto your forearms. “Yes, please, sir. Fuck me, please. Want your cock, want it a—” His pleas were cut off by you suddenly shoving your dick into his gaping hole, loud gasp escaping his lips followed by a satisfied moan.
You grunted, licking your lips and smirking at the pleasure coating his face. “What do we say now, puppy?”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you— fuck!” He cries out as you bottomed out in him, not giving him a time to adjust before pulling your hips back and slamming it in. Holy fuck, it felt so good, Miguel’s mind immediately goes blank as you began thrusting into him.
“Such a good fuckin’ puppy, taking me in so well,” You purred and snapped your hips harshly, making Miguel arch his back and cry out. He’s always been good at this, being fucked dumb and cock-hungry. You can’t help your heart swelling at the knowledge that he only becomes like this with you, possessiveness burning like a fire within your spirit. “Mine, aren’t you? My good puppy, my good whore?”
Miguel whined, nodding his head frantically. “Yours— augh! Yours, only yours, yes! Fuuuuck!” His claws dig into your skin when you set a relentless pace with your cock striking his prostate perfectly, making you hiss slightly in pain. Drools drip from Miguel’s open mouth as he threw his head back.
“I bet everyone’s gonna be so shocked to see you like this,” You groan when he clamps down on you in response. “The great Miguel O’Hara, nothing but a pathetic dumb adorable mess beneath me. All f’me, right, darling?” The brutal thrusts sending him further down on the mattress had Miguel delirious, unable to form coherent thoughts as he nods and mutters a series of yes’s and for you’s again, and again. His mind absolutely melting and breaking by the ruthless pleasure shooting everywhere within his body.
Fuck, he’s so fuckin’ adorable being at your mercy. Can’t do anything but moan and whine while taking your cock so well. Can’t even stutter a proper sentence as all he can think of is you and your big fucking dick drilling mercilessly into him. Very big contrast to the way you were touching him with such softness before.
Keeping your merciless pace, you leaned over to start sucking on one of his nipples and Miguel lets a sob out, shaking from sensitivity. His big tits were always sensitive and he refuses to let you touch it outside of the privacy in your bedroom due to how he won’t be able to contain himself — he could cum just from them alone, and the idea doesn’t please him when he’s in the right mind. Though, you figured he loves it when you touch it while fucking him because of his moans that just grew high-pitched.
You slammed your hips in a particularly hard thrust at the same time with your teeth biting his sensitive nipple and Miguel’s eyes rolled back into his skull, no sounds escaping his open mouth as he squeezed down on you. Groaning, you look down and chuckle after seeing no sight of white seed coming out from his cock, a deeply pleasant expression crossing your face. “God, fuck! You didn’t cum, puppy?”
Miguel tries to hear you out despite his mind going numb from the euphoria and weakly shakes his head, “S-sí, sí— mhmm! ahghh— wanna- wanna be good f’you, fuhck! Quiero ser bueno para ti, por favor, haah,” He moaned loudly.
Oh, motherfucker.
He really deserves a reward for being this good. His obedience drives you crazy, it feeds your ego and sadistic pleasure as electricity runs through your veins. You seemed to get bigger and harder inside him, making Miguel whine pathetically and scratch your forearm.
You reward him with another harsh thrust that sent Miguel sobbing, “Good boy, shit— such a good puppy, keeping his promise. Need a reward, hm? Good puppies deserve rewards.” You growled, pulling at his collar with your teeth.
Miguel whimpered, “Sí, sí, lo necesito— agh! Please, pleasepleaseplease.” Begging desperately, Miguel removes his hands from your forearms to hook them under his thighs and keep his legs spread in place, making you curse softly as you fastened your pace.
“Gonna breed you so fuckin’ well, puppy. Fill you up so full and so good, won’t stop even after it’s gushing out of your cunt,” You growled in his ear and Miguel arches his back to meet your thrusts, crying out and sobbing and babbling nonsense. “Gonna make you take everything in, and fuck you again so you wouldn’t feel empty ‘til the next day. Make you my breeder.” Miguel moans shamelessly at your words, clenching around you.
“Fuckfuckfuck, sir, m’gonna cum, please, sir,” He begged, toes curling as the knot in his stomach coils. “Let me cum, let me cum, please.”
Feeling your own climax approaching, your thrusts became sharp as you moan softly and grab his hands to interlock them with yours. Miguel whimpers at the intimacy. “Fuck, go on, sweetheart. Let it out, cum. Cum for me, Miguel.” As if to forcefully push him over the edge, you shoved your cock deeper into his guts in one swift motion and Miguel’s eyes rolled back into his skull, loud mewl and pornographic moan falling from his throat. White spots clouded his vision, mind going blank as he spurts out cum on his toned stomach, body shaking violently. You groaned, moaning when your orgasm hits as well, spilling the hot semen inside him.
You thrusted slowly and sloppily to ride out both of your orgasm, Miguel’s body still twitching from the intensity and overstimulation. You capture his lips in a lazy kiss and he attempts to reciprocate, though failing due to his mind completely in a daze. He can still see stars. “That’s it, puppy. Good boy, did so fuckin’ well. Took it so obediently,” You whisper softly, making Miguel whine.
“Thank you, thank you,” He mutters through heavy breathing, trying to gather his breath. One hand gently stroking his face, you kissed his cheek while mumbling praises that Miguel mewls at, his head still deep in submissive state. He must’ve been really exhausted and stressed if he hasn’t returned to his usual state of mind yet, so you just tend to him with softness to make up for how rough you were with him.
“Such a good boy, made me feel so good.” You praised, now rolling your hips in a gentle thrust. Miguel hums in pleasure, butterflies in his stomach at the kisses you pepper him with, so full and content. “Did I breed you well, mi amor? Does it feel good?” You kiss his neck as he tilts his head back.
“Mhm,” He moans softly. “Se siente bien, muy bien. Te amo.” Miguel squeezes your hand as his other hand caressed his belly, where it feels euphoric and so, so full.
You kissed his lips gently, “Yo también te quiero, mi vida.” He wraps his legs around you and reciprocates the kiss, moaning when you sucked his tongue. Holding both of his hands now, you gently pinned them on the mattress beside his head and pressed a kiss on his forehead, still rolling your hips. “I have to clean you up soon, you want a bath?”
Miguel shakes his head and rolls his hips in time with your thrusts, making you moan softly. “More, please? Wan’ you to breed me more.”
You hum, sharply snapping your hips. Miguel gasps. “So needy, huh? My adorable puppy.” He whines, which you’re quick to shush. “Don’t you worry, darling. I’ll give it all to you. You’ve been such a good obedient boy, and good boys deserve rewards.” Miguel mutters a quiet thank you before you pulled your cock all the way to the tip and slammed back into him, ready to breed his pretty cunt again so he could spend tomorrow with your cum and plug inside him, fully content.
He would spend the entire time with your cum inside him, completely full, and everyone would still think he’s the dominant one in your relationship.
Oh well, nobody gets to see him like this, so you’ll let them talk like that for a while. It’s not like they’re gonna know, anyway.
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© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 2 months
Text
on the phone with 👑
(cw: mentions of ego-shooter video games; age gap 25/41, nsfw, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, MDNI)
part before: painting his nails
I'm tossing and turning.
In my own bed.
Cursing the notion I had, that I couldn't possibly stay for longer at his place.
On Monday morning, I packed up my stuff and hurried to work, after he made me another latte.
Being a good girl, not getting him to fuck me again, even though I would have rather taken him to bed than myself to work.
Texting König about every single minute thing that came to my mind. And him doing the same.
I sent him a pic while I was out getting lunch with a colleague. And he sent me a pic while he was working out. I almost died right there and then.
Firstly, I never would have thought he would do a mirror selfie.
Secondly...
His hair put up in a haphazard way. Damp strands of it hanging down.
The tank top was a tight fit especially for him, showing off his arms. Sweat staining the front of it, the sheen of wetness on his skin...
The shorts. The sight of his burly thighs had me gripping my desk, trying to get a grip.
Thirdly, that goddamned smile. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.
When I had calmed down, my fingers typed out a message in response.
Me: excuse me??? sir??? 🫠 👑: you are excused
He's gonna pay for that one.
When I came home from work, I thought it was eerily quiet in my apartment. Nobody else being here. I mean, I live alone and Mimi greeted me as always. But it seemed like was something off. Missing.
I thought back to when we got my stuff and König just waited patiently for me while I packed some clothes and other necessities. Petting Mimi, his whole attention on the little cat. His tall stature dwarfed my living room, and I was actually surprised he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling. The Morbid Angel logo on his shirt was hidden by the black furball purring against him. Mimi sitting on his chest, not a care in the world, meowing when she saw me.
But there was no 6'10'' giant waiting for me in the living room then.
I willed myself - even though my fingers itched - to not send him message about asking for him to pick me up or stay over at my place. I wanted to give him some space after I had his place under siege for what feel like an eternity, but realistically was just three days. And I managed fine yesterday, his goodbye kisses still lingering. Today, even with all of the messages we sent back and forth...
Can you miss somebody like that after knowing them for such a short time?
I knew that he most likely spent the whole evening at home. Alone. Because he likes being alone. Probably reading or listening to the new Trivium vinyl he bought that came in the mail yesterday. Or both.
I stayed home as well, playing games on my computer – I actually started up Counterstrike and tried to play some matches –, but my mind always wandered back to him. Mimi came running, pushing her head against my legs, demanding attention. I lifted her off the floor to set her onto my lap and didn't see the enemy which got me eliminated. The irony was not lost on me, as I thought back to our conversation. How worried he seemed with how I would perceive him when he talked about his work. And now I was sitting here, playing a shooter game to try and relax after work.
I shook my head, at the absurdity of it, and snapped a quick pic in between matches to send to him.
My phone ding-ed while I was in a match, and I tried to ignore it.
As soon as I got the chance though, I opened the message and he sent a picture back. From the waist down, a book on his lap, a beer on the table beside him. The wall of books in the background. The whole room dimly lit except for the opened pages.
God damn it, I just want to sit right next to him on that couch.
me: looking comfy, old man 👑: thank you, i am indeed very comfy 👑: brat
I chuckled to myself and played a few more rounds before I went to bed.
And now I'm here, tossing and turning in my bed, without the big guy right beside me.
I pull the chat up again. Looking at the pictures he sent me today.
me: u still awake? 👑: yes, everything okay? me: can't sleep 👑: me neither
While I'm still contemplating my next message, the crown lights up my phone as a caller ID. Surprise spreads through me for just a moment before I pick up.
Hi?
Hi. Uh, I hope it's okay that I just called.
Sure, I can't sleep anyways.
I ignore the little flutter in my stomach.
What is it? Something on your mind?
‘Yeah, you.’ is what I want to say.
No, just restless.
He sighs.
I feel that.
A little silence falls over us, just for a moment.
What was that game you played before?
Oh, uh- Counterstrike. I'm no good at it though.
He laughs.
Why do you play it then?
It's still fun, I guess. Even if I curse at the monitor like a goddamn sailor.
Oh, I couldn't imagine your sweet mouth doing something as filthy as that.
Yeah, yeah. We both know what kind of filthy things you're imagining with my mouth.
Maybe.
I can hear the grin on his face which makes me grin in return.
Have you ever played?
I never played, no. Don't want to spend my free time with...
He pauses.
Work.
Oh right, I understand, sorry. This must be weird then.
No, don't worry. I know that people play those games for fun.
Yeah, I know, still.
You gotta show me some time.
Really?
Yeah, why not.
Okay, then, I'll show you my shitty gameplay with pleasure.
Which makes us both laugh.
I gotta confess something.
What do you have to confess?
I already had my car keys in my hand.
You did?
Mhm. But then I remembered what you said yesterday morning, about needing to go home and you couldn't possibly stay any longer… and I understand if you need some space. So, I wasn't sure if you'd even open the door for me, if I knocked.
A moment of silence.
Can I confess something as well?
Sure.
I have been thinking all evening how fucking stupid that was of me. And I would've opened the door for you in an instant.
Another silence, this one a little heavier.
But a little smile stalks on my face, an idea of what to say next.
What would you do if you were here?
He chuckles.
Kiss that filthy mouth of yours. And then the top of your head because that's closest to your dirty mind.
What dirty mind?
Yeah, yeah, I see right through you, Fräulein.
I don't know what you're talking about.
No? So, you aren't thinking about me fucking you from behind right now? Or maybe about you spreading your legs and me eating you out, your delicious pussy right in my face? Or about my dick pushing into your mouth until you gag around it, hm?
I clear my throat.
Well, now I am for sure.
Good. Because I'm thinking about it as well.
König?
Yes, Liebes?
I- There's something that always helps me sleep better.
His voice deepens.
And what's that?
Oh, you already know.
I need to hear you say it. What do you want?
I hesitate, feeling a little shy now.
I want to come.
He groans.
Fuck, can't deny you if you ask so prettily.
The tone of his voice sends a little shiver down my spine, but I'm unsure what to say now, the words on the tip of my tongue.
What- what should I do?
I can tell you what I would do if I was there, and you can tell me how it feels, okay?
Okay.
Put the phone next to you and put me on speaker. You're gonna need both of those hands.
I do exactly as he tells me, lying back into my sheets.
You're on speaker.
Good. What are you wearing, sweetcheeks?
I giggle a little.
A shirt and panties.
Hmm, my favorite. I would get rid of your underwear in an instant though.
I laugh and follow his suggestion. I already noticed his disdain for underwear, on himself as well.
Then I would slowly push my hand up your shirt, feeling your soft skin.
Until I reach your breasts, squeezing them.
I do as he says, but it doesn't quite feel the same with my hands, compared to his bigger ones.
I would graze my thumb over your nipples, feeling them harden from my touch.
I'd like to lick them, bite them just lightly, until you squirm under me.
I pinch them, his words mixing with the sensations of my touch, until I softly sigh.
Feeling good?
Mhm.
The sound is more a moan than anything else.
My hand would slowly wander down, until I'm there, just were you want me.
I whimper when my fingers reach my clit, swollen and sensitive.
That bad, huh?
Well, somebody sent a picture of them all sweaty and hot after working out. And I still can't think straight, just thinking about that.
He laughs.
You say such nice things, Liebes.
What would you do next?
I know that I sound desperate. But I need more.
I’d move my hand just a little further down. Not pushing into you just yet. Just teasing. Softly stroking over your wet pussy.
I whine, needy, but I don't dare to stray from his order, getting myself worked up with the teasing touches.
Just feeling how fucking wet you are for me, before pushing my finger into you.
I push one of my fingers inside me, the one digit not nearly being enough.
Miss your fingers, they're bigger.
He hums. A soft erotic sound.
I suppose they are.
I’d add a second one, slowly moving inside you, just how you like it. Hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan and roll your eyes back. Just how I like it.
His voice is getting deeper, his breaths a little more labored, as he keeps talking which sends a shiver down my spine. Knowing that guiding me through it like that, hearing me sigh in response, does it for him as well lets a little smile form on my face.
I do as he says, but I also get a little frustrated, because my fingers can't quite reach like his, my hips squirming, desperate for more friction.
Need more.
I whine.
Okay, then. Brat.
I would flip you on your front, so I could look at your ass.
I can't help the little eyeroll, while a grin stalks onto my face.
But you aren't here, and you can't actually see my butt.
Pssscht, I'm imagining it just fine. Come on, turn around, do as I tell you.
And I do, the rustling of my sheets telling him as far.
Good.
Just this word alone, from his lips, does things to me.
Now, lift up your hips just a little and push your fingers in from behind.
I follow his instructions, lifting my ass, so I can reach a little better, two of my fingers slipping into my pussy. I groan a little bit.
How's that? A little deeper?
Yes.
I sigh.
Good. Now, put your other fingers on your clit.
I push my arm under my body, placing the hand, right between my legs. My fingertips are digging into the sensitive nub and I rub against them needily. I know now why he wanted me to reposition myself.
Oh fuck.
The sounds I’m making are telling him what he wants to know.
Just like that.
Move your hips, fuck yourself on your fingers.
And I do as he tells me, the touches getting me worked up fast, the pressure on my clit changing with every pass, while my fingers are pushing into my pussy.
Hmm, feeling good?
Yeah, just wish it was you inside me.
That little confession dropped out of me before I could think too hard about it.
Fuck, me too. I would bury my dick deep inside you. Fuck you from behind. Hard, just how you like it.
Remember how I fucked you into that bar counter?
How could I forget?
We need to do that again sometime... You took me so fucking perfectly.
I bite my lip, stifling the moans that get louder and louder, the images of us fucking spurring me on, while I finger-fuck myself.
I wanna hear you. Please.
My head turns in the direction of the phone again, making sure he gets to hear all the sounds that are dropping from my lips.
Good girl.
His praise washes over me and I almost choke up when the pull inside gets too much.
Close, so clo-
Fuck, yes. Come. That's what you wanted, isn't it?
The growl in his voice tips me over the edge, moving my hips frantically in search for more friction, when my orgasm crashes down over me.
My moans fill my bedroom, and surely find their way into the phone.
I can hear him groan as well, the sounds from the speaker sounding a lot like a slick hand moving up and down quickly.
Fuck, he’s jerking off too. That thought registers in my brain, before my fingers hit that spot inside me again. The zap of pleasure makes me shake, the waves of arousal washing over me, while my fingers strum over my clit.
Fuuuck…
A low breathy curse that escapes his lips as he comes as well.
Panting, mine and his from the speaker, is all I hear for the next moments.
I untangle myself, my fingers slipping out of me, turning onto my back again. Feeling my own wetness on my hands. I clean myself haphazardly before I grab the phone again.
That was… something else.
Yeah… you drive me crazy, you know that?
I’m still just breathing, trying to calm myself down. My god, I don’t think I ever came that hard with just my fingers inside me. The images he put in my mind… his deep soft voice alone. It does stuff to me. Hearing him say that... how I drive him crazy as well, it makes me all giddy inside.
I feel the familiar fuzzy feeling sweep over me, and I wish I could snuggle into him right now, after he made me come, and my hazy mind is still looking for the right thing to say now.
Feeling better now?
Yes, much better.
Sleepy, too?
Yes, that too. I always get a little sleepy afterwards.
I've noticed.
Like on cue, I yawn.
Thank you.
He chuckles again. And I don't think I'll ever get enough of that sound.
No need to thank me. I'll make you come any day of the week.
I- meant for calling, but that works too.
The grin on my face probably mirrors his, staring off into the distance with our phones pressed to the ear. And he's still not here next to me.
Gotta get myself under the shower, because I made a mess of myself again and I got nobody here to clean me up.
That makes me laugh, the joke and the filthy thought cutting through the sleepiness, when I'm yawning again.
You do that, can't have you all messy like that.
No, we can't.
I can hear the little filthy grin in his voice, and I can imagine how he must look like right now. Sitting on the couch or his bed. His dick still out, all messy and sticky with his cum. His hair hanging over the side of his face, as he relaxes into the cushions. And that god damn smirk of his.
Silence, just two little moments, before I ask what I wanted to ask.
Can you come over tomorrow?
Sure, Kleine, whatever you want.
Okay, good. Good night, König.
Good night, sleep well.
That's the last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep, still gripping my phone tight with my fingers.
next part: gaming with him or more stuff in the Masterlist ~
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skyethel · 5 months
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What does Judith Butler know about loading her son’s corpse in a cab? What does she know about the horror of turning a taxi into a hearse?
im so mad. i've been in mourning and a state of constant rage for palestine for the past few years, and these past weeks have been especially devastating. while im not palestinian myself, i have friends and family that are, and i cant help but be on edge about the things they cant afford to think about right now.
i read their 'thought piece'. its nothing new on that front, and thats why it makes me so mad. im really struggling to connect with the blind, white-american privilege of calling for non-violence in the face of a genocidal apartheid regime. the fucking gall of these so-called western intellectuals to preach how rampant anti-intellectualism has become just to turn around and buy into some colonial playbook of peace shit is hilarious. people i thought were with me on this, not only on palestinian liberation but on liberation full stop, have been a constant disappointment. i cut off so many ppl i called friends over the absolute lack of grace and empathy they handled this with. when are white western 'activists' going to stop treating us like timed bombs of irrationality?
this part in particular kept coming up and made me feel like i was going insane:
"When, however, the Harvard Palestine Solidarity Committee issues a statement claiming that ‘the apartheid regime is the only one to blame’ for the deadly attacks by Hamas on Israeli targets, it makes an error. It is wrong to apportion responsibility in that way, and nothing should exonerate Hamas from responsibility for the hideous killings they have perpetrated...The necessity of separating an understanding of the pervasive and relentless violence of the Israeli state from any justification of violence is crucial if we are to consider what other ways there are to throw off colonial rule"
literally nobody is asking anyone to 'exonerate' hamas. hamas is a military organization fighting the US-backed israeli occupation with smuggled weapons that is active in 365 km² at best. hamas is not even in the orbit when it comes to comparisons to israel.
israel said it with its own mouth that hamas is a product of israeli occupation. this isnt a matter of opinion, right? or am i too far left to think that a brutal occupation will radicalize its victims? and they gave them the means to become a 'terrorist organization'? how are you claiming to care about palestinians if you don't bother unsubscribing from the very schools of thought that constructed the occupation in the first place?
some of you 'leftists' have been lying about what you've been reading because where are the frantz fanon quotes you like to throw around, huh? where's the malcolm x, the angela davis? where are your insta posts with chomsky's books?
holy shit WHAT OTHER WAYS?
keep our communities out of your mouth. we are not some thought experiment you can exercise your conscience on. we're watching an ethnic cleansing unfold, and instead of supporting palestinians so many of you are playing out your own little fantasies of the 'progressive' solidarity you fail to show. sometimes, you need to fucking stop and listen instead of consulting the higher morality police on whether you need to 'contextualize' your incompetence.
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