Summary: When habit compels you to get on top, Harry drops everything to show you what you really deserve.
Warnings: new relationship, first time together, steamy make-out sesh, mentions of a past relationship, oral (f!receiving), protected sex, this is very intimate and sweet, aftercare and pillow talk
Based on: this ask!
A/N: thanks again anon for requesting this, hope i've done it justice. my inbox is always open! enjoy lovelies x
Word Count: 3,088
...
The flat is quiet except for the pitter-patter of rain against the windows and the soft crackle of the candle on the coffee table. Harry's place always smells faintly of freshly done laundry and whatever tea he's brewed; tonight it's chamomile, untouched in two mugs because you're both too comfortable to disrupt the peace.
Your legs are draped over his thighs, his hand splayed wide at the small of your back under your sweater. The kiss started slow when you first walked in, but has deepened into something hungrier, tongues lazy but deliberate. His other hand traces slow, absent circles over the bare skin of your upper arm where your sweater has slipped down.
He hums against your lips, pleased, and tilts your head with his palm so he can lick into your mouth slow and thorough. His hand slides up your side, thumb grazing the underside of your breast through the thin fabric of your bra. You arch instinctively, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating where your chests touch. When he breaks the kiss to leisurely trail his lips along your jaw, you tilt your head to give him more room. His teeth graze your pulse point, light, teasing, then his tongue soothes the spot, and heat coils low in your belly.
He nips gently at your earlobe, voice rougher now. ''You're a little tense, baby. You okay?''
''Cold,'' you lie, even as your fingers tighten in his hair.
He chuckles, breath hot against your skin. ''Liar.''
You turn to catch his mouth again, and his hand slips higher under your sweater, palm flat and warm against your bare back.
When you finally need air, you pull back just enough to rest your forehead against his. Your breathing is uneven, lips swollen and tingling.
He studies you for a beat, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. ''Really, though, you're unusually quiet.''
You bite your lip, suddenly shy despite the way your body is still pressed flush to his. ''Just remembering something I said before.''
He tilts his head, curious but patient. ''Yeah?''
You trace the collar of his shirt with one fingertip, following the line of ink that disappears under the fabric. ''Remember that movie night at my place, when you had your hand up my shirt while we were kissing on my bed, and I pulled back because I said I get tired after... you know.''
Harry's hand stills on your back. He nods slowly, eyes never leaving yours. ''I remember.''
Your cheeks heat. 'It's been that way since my first time. I only dated one guy before you, y'know. We were together for almost three years. He was my first... everything. And sex was always the same. I'd always end up sore the next day, like my body had run a marathon.''
He exhales through his nose, thumb resuming its slow stroke along your back. His expression is soft, but there's a flicker of frustration in his eyes.
''Three years,'' he repeats, almost to himself, brows lifting. ''And he never once made it feel good enough that you weren't sore after?''
You laugh, short and a little self-conscious. ''I guess not. Maybe I'm just sensitive. Or bad at it.''
Harry's mouth quirks like the idea is ridiculous, but his eyes stay serious. ''That's not how it's supposed to be, love.'' He leans in, brushes the tip of his nose against yours. ''At the risk of sounding conceited, I'm sure I could make you actually feel good, if you'd like.''
''I'd like that,'' you whisper. ''With you.''
He studies you for a moment, then leans in and kisses you, deep, unhurried, tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes heat pool low in your belly. ''Then let me show you how it's supposed to feel.''
He stands first, offering his hand. You take it, fingers lacing together as he leads you down the short hallway.
The lamps in the bedroom are on low, warm gold spilling across the navy sheets and the dark wood floor. The rain sounds softer here, muffled by the heavier curtains. He turns to face you at the foot of the bed and cups your neck with both hands. His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth before he kisses you, and you feel the shift in him, the restraint giving way to something much more urgent.
His hands slide down to the hem of your sweater, gathering the fabric inch by inch until he pulls it over your head. Your hair tumbles free; he smooths it back with one palm, eyes tracing the lace of your bra.
You reach for the buttons of his shirt in return. One by one they slip free, revealing warm, flushed skin adorned by ink. When the shirt falls open, you push it off his shoulders, letting your palms glide over the firm lines of his chest, down the ridges of his abdomen. He shivers under your touch, a quiet groan catching in his throat.
He walks you backward until the backs of your knees meet the edge of the mattress. He follows, crawling over you, caging you with his arms but keeping most of his weight on his elbows. His mouth finds your neck first, trailing open kisses along the column of your throat, then lower, lips pressing to the fluttering pulse just below your jaw. You tilt your head, offering more, and he gladly takes it, tongue flicking out to taste your skin, teeth grazing lightly enough to make you gasp.
He lifts your hand, turns it palm-up, and kisses the delicate skin where your pulse races. His tongue traces the vein there, slow and deliberate, before he sucks gently. The sensation shoots straight between your legs, and you have to press your thighs together, already aching.
''Harry,'' you breathe.
He hums against your wrist, then lowers your arm and moves over your body. He kisses the inside of your knee, first one, then the other, nosing the soft skin and letting his breath fan hot over it. When his mouth drifts to the inside of your thigh, you tense, anticipation curling tight in your belly. He doesn't rush. He kisses higher, higher, lips brushing the crease where thigh meets hip, then finally settling between your legs.
But he doesn't touch you where you need it most.
Instead he crawls back up, hands sliding to the clasp of your bra. It falls away, and he tosses it aside without looking. His mouth closes over one breast, tongue circling the peak until it tightens under his attention. His hand cups the other, thumb rolling maddening circles over the nipple, pinching just enough to make you arch. You thread your fingers into his hair, holding him there, hips lifting instinctively.
He switches sides, giving the neglected breast the same thorough worship, sucking harder now, teeth grazing the sensitive tip, then soothing with his tongue. Your breathing turns ragged; every pull of his mouth sends sparks straight to your clit. You're wet already, embarrassingly so, the ache between your thighs building.
When he finally trails kisses down your stomach again, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to help as he kisses every inch of skin the drag of fabric reveals: hip bone, your lower belly, the tops of your thighs. Then he settles between your legs, shoulders spreading you open, eyes dark and focused as he looks up at you.
''Can I taste you?'' he asks, voice rough, lips glistening from earlier kisses.
You nod, heart hammering. ''Please.''
He lowers his head, and the first drag of his tongue is flat and warm, exploring your folds. You jolt, hips lifting off the bed. He groans against you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat.
Harry slides one finger inside you, curling it just right while his mouth stays on your clit. The combination is overwhelming, pleasure coiling tight and fast. He adds a second finger, thrusting in time with the rhythm of his tongue. You're trembling, thighs shaking around his head, moans spilling freely. He doesn't stop until you shatter, back arching, vision blurring, his name torn from your throat on a broken cry.
He works you through it, then kisses your inner thighs, your hip bones, your stomach as he crawls back up. His mouth is wet, lips swollen, and he kisses you so deep you can taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into him, hands roaming his back, tugging him closer.
He reaches for the nightstand, rolls the condom on with steady hands, then settles between your legs again. He kisses you once more before lining himself up, the head of him nudging your entrance.
You move on instinct.
Pushing at his shoulders, you roll so you're straddling him, knees bracketing his hips. Harry freezes beneath you. His hands are still on your waist, his eyes wide with confusion.
''Hey,'' he says softly, thumbs stroking your sides. ''Baby, what are you doing?''
You blink down at him, suddenly uncertain. ''This... this is how I've always done it. I get on top. That's... that's how it works.''
His brow furrows deeper. ''Who told you that?''
You swallow. ''My ex. He said it was easier for him. Better view, or... I don't know. He just always wanted it like this. So I thought...''
Harry's jaw tightens, frustration flickering in his eyes. Not at you, of course not, but at the years you spent thinking this was the only way. At the way your body was used instead of worshipped.
''Baby,'' he says firmly, voice rough with emotion. ''That's not how it should be.''
He sits up slowly, arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, breathing steadying.
''Let me show you how you should've been treated,'' he murmurs. ''Let me take care of you properly. Please.''
You search his face: earnest, tender, determined.
Then you nod.
He kisses you once more, soft and promising, then gently maneuvers you back down onto the sheets. The navy fabric is cool against your overheated skin as he settles between your thighs again, the thick head of him nudging your entrance. His eyes lock on yours, searching.
''Still okay?'' he whispers.
You nod, breathless. ''Please, Harry.''
He rocks forward in one smooth glide, patiently letting your body open for him inch by inch. The stretch is full and perfect, your walls fluttering around him as he sinks deeper, deeper, until his hips press flush to yours and he's buried to the hilt. A low groan rumbles from his chest. You feel every ridge, every pulse of him inside you, and for the first time it doesn't feel like a chore. It feels intimate, romantic.
He stays still for a long moment, letting you adjust, forehead resting against yours while your breaths mingle. Then he starts to move.
His hips roll in long, fluid waves, pulling back until only the tip remains, then sliding home again with a slow grind that drags his pubic bone perfectly against your clit. Every thrust presses that sensitive bundle of nerves exactly right, sending sparks shooting up your spine. The rhythm is steady, unhurried, but deep enough that each stroke fills you completely. Your thighs tremble around his waist, and you couldn't stop the quiet, needy sounds spilling from your lips if you wanted to.
Harry laces his fingers with yours and lifts your joined hands above your head, pressing them into the pillow. His palm is warm and slightly calloused, the pads of his fingers sliding between yours until they slot together perfectly. He squeezes once, using the grip as leverage to rock deeper. Your knuckles brush the headboard as his thumb strokes the back of your hand in time with every roll of his hips, a constant, grounding point of contact that makes you feel even more connected.
His free hand is everywhere else, stroking, worshipping. It cups your breast, thumb circling the stiff peak before pinching gently. It trails down your side, fingers splaying wide over your ribs, then lower to grip the supple flesh of your hip, guiding you into his rhythm. It slides between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing tight, slick circles. The sensation of his cock dragging inside you while his fingers work your clit has you arching off the bed, a broken moan tearing from your throat.
Harry watches your face the entire time, studying your reactions. When your lashes flutter and your lips part on a gasp, he angles his hips a fraction higher, grinding harder against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. When your brows draw together and a whimper escapes, he slows just enough to draw it out, making the pleasure crest and crest without crashing. When you moan his name, long and needy, he curses softly under his breath, voice wrecked.
''Fuck, that sound,'' he rasps. ''Say it again, love.''
''Harry—'' It comes out desperate, almost sobbed.
He rewards you instantly with a deeper thrust, fingers pressing just right on your clit. Your walls clench around him; he feels it and groans, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours.
''That's it,'' he murmurs, lips brushing your temple, your cheek, your mouth. ''Let me hear everything. You're doing so well, love.''
The pressure builds fast, coiling tighter with every smooth roll of his hips, every stroke of his fingers, every squeeze of his hand laced with yours. Your free hand clutches at his shoulder, nails digging into the muscle. His name falls from your lips over and over, mixed with breathless pleas you don't even realize you're making.
He feels the way your thighs tense and your breathing turns ragged. His pace stays exactly the same, steady, relentless, but his voice drops lower. ''Come for me, baby. I've got you. Let go.''
You shatter. Pleasure crashes through you in waves so intense your vision whites out at the edges. Your back arches hard off the bed, walls pulsing around him in rhythmic spasms. A cry rips from your throat, his name, broken and raw. He keeps moving through it, grinding against your clit to draw every last pulse from you, hand still laced tight with yours, fingers never loosening their grip.
Only when you start to come down, limbs trembling, chest heaving, does he let himself follow. Three more deep rolls of his hips and he buries his face in your neck, groaning your name like it's the only word he knows. You feel every throb, every pulse inside you as he spills into the condom, his hand squeezing yours tightly.
For a long moment he stays exactly where he is, still buried deep, body covering yours, breaths hot against your neck. Then he lifts his head, eyes soft and glassy, and presses the gentlest kiss to your lips.
''You okay?'' he whispers, voice hoarse.
You nod, too blissed out to speak yet. He smiles, small, proud, a little awed, then carefully pulls out. He disposes of the condom with quick, efficient movements, retrieves a warm, damp cloth from the bathroom, and cleans you with tender strokes between your legs. When he's done, he climbs back into bed and pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around you. His fingers trace along your spine, the same hand that was laced with yours the entire time now stroking circles over your skin.
The rain is still falling outside. Inside, the only sounds are your slowing breaths and the quiet beat of his heart under your cheek.
You're tucked against Harry's chest, one leg slung over his thigh, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. one hand resting over yours on his stomach, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist where your pulse has finally started to calm.
Neither of you speaks for a long minute, just relishing the warmth of skin on skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek. The sheets are tangled around your hips. He kisses the top of your head, then your temple, then the corner of your mouth.
''You alright?'' he asks quietly, voice rough from everything that just happened.
You nod against him. ''More than alright.''
He exhales a soft laugh, relieved. ''Good. Because that was... fuck, love. It was incredible.''
Heat creeps back into your cheeks. You hide your face in the crook of his neck for a second, breathing him in: sweat, remnants of cologne, that familiar smell that's just Harry, before lifting your head enough to meet his eyes in the low lamplight.
''I've never... come like that before,'' you admit, voice small but steady.
His expression softens, something tender and almost pained flickering across his face. He lifts your joined hands to his mouth, kissing your knuckles one by one.
''I'm glad it was with me,'' he murmurs. ''But I'm sorry it took this long for you to feel it.''
You swallow, throat suddenly tight. ''I just thought that was normal. Being on top, doing all the work, feeling tired and sore after. He never really asked what I liked. Never went down on me. Never even tried to make it last for me. It was always quick, always the same position because that's what he wanted. And I let it be that way because I didn't know it could be different.''
He shifts so he can look at you properly, rolling onto his side so you're face-to-face. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing away a tear you didn't realise had slipped free.
''That's not your fault,'' he says firmly, voice firm yet gentle. ''He just didn't know how to take care of you. Or he didn't care enough to try. Either way, that's on him. Not you.''
He kisses the tip of your nose, then your forehead, then your lips, soft, lingering. When he pulls back his eyes are serious again. ''I want this to be different for you. We figure it out together. What you like, what feels good, what makes you come so hard you forget your own name.''
A small laugh escapes you, and you nod, throat too full to speak right away. Instead you curl closer, tucking your face into his neck again. His arms tighten around you instinctively.
You close your eyes, listening to the rain and the steady thump of his heart. For the first time in years, you drift off feeling safe, satisfied, and utterly wanted.
...
thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕
A/N: hiya! so this is a little something i wrote this week, nothing grandiose, but i felt like writing and this is the result lol. it was losely inspired by the 5sos song i'm scared i'll never sleep again, its such a banger and i liked the lyrics so here it is, a little something while we all wait for the new single!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Y/N and Harry are best friends, everyone on campus knows. But on the night of their graduation a drunken decision is made and it forces some long-buried feelings out in the open, but it changes everything between them.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
Harry shouldn’t have drunk this much. He knows it, but now there’s nothing he can do about it. But after all this is his graduation party, the one night everyone was waiting for, the party that means they survived college and the real world is out there waiting for them.
With another beer in his hand he stumbles out of the kitchen, his vision is a bit blurry, but he can still carry himself just right. Seemingly everyone else is just as wasted as him, the music is blasting through the speakers, couples are making out, there’s an impromptu dancefloor in the middle of the living room, the whole house is packed with celebrating students, yet he is only looking for one person.
He spots her through the terrace door, laughing with a group of girls, her eyes a little hazy, but she is nowhere near as drunk as Harry is. He pushes his way through the crowd and finally step outside, naturally drawing attention just with his presence, but he’s kind of used to it by now. And the only person he is paying attention to is Y/N.
“There’s my girl!” he exclaims, throwing his arms into the air, almost sloshing beer on everyone around him.
“Who? Me?” Y/N laughs, pretending not to know him.
“Yes! You!” Harry points at her and then crosses the terrace, settling beside her, hanging an arm around her, tugging her close to his side. They swing a little out of balance at first, she wraps her arms around his waist and together they manage to stand straight.
“You’re wasted, Styles,” Y/N giggles, squeezing his abdomen.
“No, I’m a graduate and wasted!” He corrects her, making the people around them laugh.
“How come you two never dated?” A girl from the circle asks. Harry’s head snaps up, he looks at the girl and then down at Y/N.
“I don’t know, how come?” he asks with a smug grin.
“Oh my God, stop,” Y/N rolls her eyes. “We would kill each other.”
“Isn’t that what we already do?”
“Yeah, but in a friendly way!”
Harry laughs and just squeezes her to his side. He loves teasing her, it’s their usual dynamic and probably everyone knows it on campus. As soon as they started college, everyone knew they were close friends, like two peas in a pod. Even when they started hanging out with different crowds, Harry became part of the athletes in school while Y/N leaned more onto the artsy side, they still remained best friends. Many were guessing that they were actually hooking up, that their friendliness were a lot deeper, but the truth is they never crossed that line.
“Hey, wanna have a break?” he asks, leaning closer to her so only she can hear him. She nods and doesn’t even bat an eye when he pulls her in front of him, arms curled around her shoulders as he steers her away from the group.
They leave the buzz of the party behind and go upstairs, right into Harry’s room. It’s a relief for the both of them to have space. Y/N steps to the window right away, opening it wide and sitting on the sill, Harry following her, but a little wobbly in his drunken state.
“Careful, don’t want to scrape you up the floor on the day of our graduation,” Y/N teases him as he finally settles.
“Ha-ha. You’d actually laugh if I fell,” he huffs.
“No, I wouldn’t. That would actually traumatize me.”
“Wait, so you care about me?” Harry gasps dramatically.
“Shut up or I’ll push you out this window,” she laughs, bumping her shoulder against his.
Silence settles over them, both of them just watching the party in the backyard, all the people they saw at parties for the past years or in class or just around campus, suddenly it’s real, that this is the end of it.
“I’m gonna actually miss this,” she sighs, leaning against him, resting her head on his shoulder.
“We had a good time,” he hums. “It was better with you.”
She turns to look at him, he is already blinking lazily at her with an unreadable expression that stirs something in her.
“You’re turning into a big softy,” she grins at him and he mirrors it.
“Only for you.”
“Stop,” she chuckles, shaking her head. “Don’t use your charm on me, I’m not one of your hookups.”
“I know that,” he nods, but his expression stays serious. “Why did we never date?” he asks the same question they got on the terrace.
“Because we’re good like this,” she shrugs, but swallows the guilt that biles in her throat, knowing this might not be the truth.
“So you never thought of me like that?” he asks, completely surprising her.
“Harry, you’re too drunk,” she chuckles, shaking her head.
“I’ve thought of you like that,” he bluntly says and she freezes for a second, feeling his gaze on her. When she looks at him, he’s still staring at her, a small, lazy smile on his lips that just worsens it all.
“Stop messing with me,” she scoffs at last, jumping back inside from the window. Harry follows, though he is moving way slower, almost tripping when he jumps off the sill.
“What? I can’t admit I’ve thought about what it would be like?”
“No, you can’t,” she shoots him a look.
“Too bad, already did,” he grins.
“You’re way too drunk, Harry. Maybe you should go to bed.”
“Oh, is that an invitation?” he wiggles his eyebrows and she just starts laughing, knowing well now all of his comments will be like that. Just then, Harry loses balance and almost trips, Y/N grabs him by his arm, though her reaction is not that fast either.
“Woah, alright, let’s get you to bed so you can sleep this off.”
“But the party is still going!” he whines, though doesn’t protest when she pulls him towards his bed and sits him down.
“Yeah, but they will have to go on without you.”
Somehow they manage to take his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers and a t-shirt, then she pulls the covers over him, his eyes already blinking closed. She is just about to leave when he grabs her wrist and pulls her back.
“No, don’t leave,” he slurs half asleep, tugging her until she is forced to sit on the edge of the mattress.
“You need to sleep.”
“Stay with me.” He opens his eyes with the most pleading look in them she’s ever seen, even pouting at her. “Come on, just wanna spend tonight with my best friend.”
He scoots over, making space for her, his hand still holding her wrist so she doesn’t flee. With a sigh she gives up, kicking her shoes off. She settles under the cover and they both lie on their side, facing each other in the darkness. The music can still be heard from downstairs, the party will probably rage on for a while, but somehow they are wrapped in their own peaceful cocoon.
“I wasn’t joking though, you know,” he breaks the silence, eyes fluttering closed.
“About what?”
“That I thought of you like that. You’re my best friend, it was inevitable to think of you as more.”
It’s like he is speaking in his sleep, but Y/N is practically holding her breath at his words. Because she’d be lying if she said she hasn’t thought of him more than just a friend.
“And where did that thought take you?” she whispers back. Harry sighs, burying his head further into the pillow and he leaves the question unanswered for a while, making her think he’s already asleep, but then he speaks up.
“I fucking love you, Y/N.”
Her lips part at the words, chest thumping in her chest. She knows he is drunk and almost fully asleep, but the weight of this slurred confession is already pushing on her chest. She watches him, lashes fanned out on his cheeks as his breathing slows and she knows he’s sleeping and probably wasn’t awake when he said it.
But still, she reaches out and gently brushes his hair out of his forehead.
“I love you too, Harry,” she whispers and then lets herself drift off to sleep as well.
It’s quiet in the house when Harry wakes, but still dark outside. He has no idea how long he’s been asleep, but not long enough, that’s for sure, because he still feels disoriented from the alcohol. With a frown he is about to roll to his other side when he realizes he’s not alone in the bed, someone is curled to his side, an arm across his chest, legs tangled with his. For a split second he curses himself out for hooking up with some random girl because he drank too much, but then he realizes just how familiar the sleeping figure is.
It’s Y/N, sleeping peacefully beside him, snuggled up to his side and his body relaxes instantly, the memory of drunkenly begging her to stay now slowly crawling back into his sleepy mind. His arms curl around her, the feeling of her body against his is blissful and it surely brings out fantasies he has battled before.
Because he wasn’t joking when he said he’s thought of her before as more than just a friend, in fact, it’s been occurring more and more frequently recently, bringing him utter confusion.
But now he is way too tired and still kind of drunk to overthink it and he can just enjoy her closeness, the softness of her body, the small breaths she is puffing out, the way she hums in her sleep as they rearrange, lying on their sides again, facing each other, but this time way closer than before, legs still tangled, Harry’s arm thrown over her waist.
He doesn’t fall back asleep though and when he blinks his eyes open again, he is stunned by the sight of the sleeping Y/N. Even despite the long years of friendship, they never shared a bed, so the experience is all new and consuming for him. Her face is screaming to be touched, her hair, the curve of her shoulder, everything about her in that moment is making his palm and fingers itch to touch her.
And so he does.
Gently, he runs his knuckles down the side of her face at first and then cradles her cheek in his palm. She stirs in her sleep, nuzzling more into his touch, twisting something even more in him. He’s not thinking. There’s no rationality in him when he leans closer and presses a kiss to her forehead.
The touch of his lips makes her shift and then slowly blink her eyes open. She looks at Harry, as if she’s just making up what she is seeing, then closes her eyes back. She doesn’t protest, she doesn’t speak and maybe Harry would have gone back to sleep… if she didn’t scoot closer, so close their noses brush together. Her hands move from under the pillow to the base of his neck, but her eyes are still closed, like she’s doing it all in her dream.
And that’s exactly how Harry feels too.
She blinks her eyes open again, her gaze locking with Harry’s and at first they are just staring at each, sleepily and wordlessly. Then his gaze drops to her lips and they part as she moves the tiniest bit closer, Harry looks back into her eyes and a second later he closes the gap between them, but only so his lips are brushing against hers, as if giving her one last chance to stop, but instead she pushes towards him and now they are fully kissing.
It gets heated fast, the simple kiss turns passionate as they press up against each other in the sheets, limbs tangled and tongues licking. They’re tugging and pushing and pulling and neither of them hesitates when clothes start to disappear. It’s like an urge took over them and they need to obey to keep breathing, they devour each other.
Harry’s hands move to her now naked breasts and she rolls her hips against his, pulling a moan out of him.
“Harry,” she gasps when the tip of his cock touches her clit and that just riles him even more.
Within seconds he is pulling a condom on, rolling on top of her and their eye contact doesn’t waver as he pushes into her, slowly stretching her until he is all the way inside. Grabbing him by the back of his head she pulls down for another kiss as he starts moving, carefully at first, but quickly picking up his pace.
They become one big mess, chasing their high, she’s clawing at his back, biting his lips while he keeps driving his hips forward, almost drowning in the euphoria of feeling her this close and deep, an addiction already forming in his gut. Nothing has ever felt like this, nothing compares to the way her body moves with his and their lips melt together with such hunger.
“Fuck,” he growls, face buried into her neck. “I’m so close,” he rasps out.
“Just a little more,” she gasps, digging her fingers deeper into his back. He tries to hold back, keeps thrusting and when he feels her walls tighten around him and her breath hitching he lets it go.
He keeps moving, both of them riding out their orgasm, then slowly halts, but stays like that for a bit before rolling to the side, onto his back. It takes some time for them to catch their breath and the tiredness wears them down quite fast, before the realization of what actually happened could set in, they are both out.
When hours later Harry wakes again it’s bright outside and his drunkenness has turned into a hangover. He frowns at the throbbing of his head, not even finding the will to open his eyes. He stretches his arm to the side, looking for his phone somewhere, but instead his hand lands on something entirely different.
A body.
His eyes pop open as his head snaps to the side, only to find a sight he was definitely not expecting. Y/N is sleeping beside him, tangled in the sheets, naked. And then, the memories of what happened hours ago come flooding back to him.
Waking up in the middle of the night, still kind of drunk, kissing Y/N and then things escalated fast, he now remembers quite well how she felt, the noises she made, the way her fingers clawed at his back…
“Fuck,” he breathes out, panic taking over him.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not like this. Not with her.
His gaze drifts over her peaceful face and something painful twists inside him. Y/N is his constant, the one person he could always rely on. Endless late night talks, even more inside jokes, she is the only person who knows him inside and out and he’s spent years keeping that line drawn firmly, never allowing himself to cross it, telling himself it’s the safest way.
But now that line is gone, completely blurred. It wasn’t just a touch of his toe on the other side, he jumped right over, into the middle.
However the panic isn’t just about waking up next to her, but also about just how right it feels, how natural and how terrifyingly easy it was to ignore the line and let everything he’s been keeping in the back of his head run free just because he got drunk. But he can’t do this. He can’t want her, she already knows him more than anyone, but if she knew everything, if she saw this one side she hasn’t before…
He rubs his hands over his face, almost feeling nauseous as he stares up at the ceiling.
Y/N stirs beside him a few minutes later, shifting in the sheets. Harry freezes, as if he didn’t move he would simply disappear.
“Harry?” her voice is soft, thick with sleep. “What time is it?”
He swallows. “I-I don’t know. Maybe around ten.”
She pushes herself up on one elbow, blinking against the light. Then she looks at him and something settles in her expression. Not panic or regret, more like awareness, like she is going through the same realization Harry went through just minutes before, remembering what happened and what it might mean.
“Um… Huh. Hey,” she croaks out. His chest tightens painfully at how normal she sounds. Like this isn’t blowing her world apart the way it’s blowing his.
“Hey,” he echoes, too quickly. He sits up, the sheets sliding down and bunching in his lap. “Um, I’m gonna go and shower.”
He climbs out of the bed and quickly grabs his boxers that are luckily on the edge of the mattress. He pulls them on and quite noticeably avoids looking her in the eyes.
“Harry…” she sighs as she sits up fully, holding the sheets to her chest.
“You want to shower too?” he asks, but his eyes are still everywhere but on her.
“What are you doing?”
“As I said, I’m going to take a sho–”
“No, you’re acting like an asshole right after we had sex.”
Her bluntness stuns him, he wasn’t expecting her to come forward this fast and easily. He stops in the middle of the room and at last turns to face her. The fact that she’s still naked in his bed definitely doesn’t help him.
“Y/N, please don’t,” he pleads.
“Please don’t what? Do you really just want to ignore it?”
“Preferably, yes,” he nods, his breathing starting to get heavy.
“You can’t be serious.”
“It shouldn’t have happened, okay?” he snaps. “I-It was… a mistake. We were drunk.”
She stares back at him in disbelief, like she is looking at an entirely different person she has never met before.
“We were drunk, but you also told me you love me, then we kissed and had sex and we weren’t that drunk when that happened.”
It hurts, every single word is like a stab in his chest. But he just shakes his head, already deeply settled in his ignorance.
“It was a mistake,” he repeats. “We shouldn’t… No.”
She stares at him again, as if she’s waiting for him to tell her he’s just joking, but the change never comes. He just stands there, eyes glued to the floor again and something breaks between them, she knows.
“I’m gonna shower now,” he mutters and with that, he disappears in the bathroom, shutting the door.
In every way, she thinks.
When Harry walks out in a cloud of steam, the room is empty and just then he starts to feel the actual weight of what happened.
***
This is not at all how Y/N planned the week after graduation, in bed most of the time, often crying herself to sleep, wasting the last days of college life on spiraling.
Because that’s what she’s been doing. Replaying that last conversation with Harry, the way he dismissed everything that happened and the pain she felt when she got dressed in a hurry while Harry was in the bathroom and left with tears streaming down her face. That morning still haunts her in her dreams, even a week later.
Now as she is packing up the last of her stuff in her dorm room she still can’t believe the turn things have taken in the very end and that she is not only leaving college, but it feels like she is walking away from Harry as well.
They haven’t talked, they couldn’t have because Y/N muted him on her way back to the dorm that morning, because she didn’t have it in her to block him, but also didn’t want to hear from him. She only once checked if he had tried to reach out and saw a bunch of texts, but chose to ignore them and focus on forgetting.
Boxes everywhere, suitcases filled to the brim, her room feels like a ghost of what it was just days ago. She grabs two more boxes and heads out to the car she rented to drive home, another thing that had to be done after the whole Harry situation. They were supposed to go back home together with his car, sparing Y/N from having to drive, the one thing she is utterly terrified of, but now she has to do it.
She crosses the sidewalk to the car and tries to open the trunk without having to put the boxes down but entirely fails, so with a tired and frustrated huff she is about to put the boxes down when a tattooed arm appears from behind her, opening the trunk and she doesn’t have to look behind to know who it belongs to.
She freezes, the boxes still in her hands as her stomach twists into a knot.
“Can we please talk?”
Harry’s voice hits differently after a week of radio silence, it’s like a punch into her gut, but she fights the urge to start crying instantly.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” she manages to say, busying herself with putting the boxes in the trunk. Harry moves to her side, a hand covering the door of the trunk right when she always tends to hit her head. A small gesture, but it warms her heart even through the thick curtains of anger and disappointment.
“You haven’t been answering my texts.”
“I know.”
“But they go through,” he continues as she shuts the trunk and heads back inside for another round, Harry following her closely. “So you didn’t block me.”
“Excellent observation,” she mutters under her breath. “I muted you.”
It’s a stab in his chest, but he brushes it off.
“So you don’t hate me enough to block just yet.”
She doesn’t answer as she walks into her room. Harry follows and shuts the door closed and stands in the way, so now she’s trapped, she can’t walk out without having to walk past him.
“Y/N, please. I’m begging you,” he breathes out and when she finally shifts her gaze over to him her breath hitches.
He looks… awful. Like he hasn’t slept in days, his shoulders are sagging forward, hair messy but not in his usual charming way. He looks like the ghost of himself.
She draws a deep breath and crosses her arms over her chest, as if that could help her keep it together.
“Five minutes,” she says at last and a hint of relief flashes in his eyes.
“Y/N, I fucked up like never before,” he starts and she huffs out a bitter laugh.
“Yeah,” she says quietly, shaking her head. “You did.”
The words aren’t as sharp as he expected and that’s what makes them hurt more. Harry swallows, jaw tightening as if he’s bracing himself.
“I know I don’t get to ask for forgiveness. I know I don’t even deserve these five minutes. But I need you to know that what I said that morning–” He breaks off, dragging a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t the truth.”
She scoffs, finally meeting his eyes. “Then what was it, Harry? Because it sounded pretty clear to me.”
“I panicked,” he blurts out. “Because quite frankly, that was all I wanted for so long, but I kept denying even the thought from myself.”
“The thought?” she frowns in confusion.
“The thought that you mean… fucking everything to me. And you know me more than anyone, but I was scared that if you knew…” His voice dies down, it’s a struggle to say the words that only existed in his head. Y/N patiently waits for him to get his head straight and continue. “I’m scared that if you knew, if you really knew me, inside and out, you’d…”
He trails off, staring at his feet. It takes a moment before he forces the words out.
“You wouldn’t want me anymore. Not even as a friend.”
His voice is barely more than just a whisper and he can’t bear to look her in the eyes, keeping his gaze on his feet.
“Harry…” she sighs softly.
“I didn’t mean to be such an asshole,” he continues. “I panicked and in that moment I really thought that ignoring it all was the best idea, but the second I came out of the shower and you were gone, I just knew I did the worst possible thing. I’m so sorry.”
He looks up at her with teary eyes and her heart sinks, she’s never seen him so broken before.
“Every time I go to bed, it just… It feels cold without you and the thought of losing you keeps me up at night, I’m scared I’ll never sleep again.”
Her anger is gone. All she sees is her best friend, the person he loves the most and he is so broken, so devastated that her first instinct is to do whatever it takes to get him back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually this stupid, Harry,” she shakes her head with a tired laugh. “I already know you inside and out, I know fucking everything about you and I still…” Her voice wavers. “I still love you.”
His lips part at her confession. Hearing those words from her is like her personal salvation after a week spent in hell. They both step towards each other at the same time, Y/N’s hands cup his face and his arms curl around her waist, their foreheads meeting in the middle.
“I love you too. I always have. I was just an idiot who thought loving you meant losing you.”
“I’ve seen your worst, Harry,” she chuckles, tears dwelling in her eyes too by now. “I’ve seen it all and I still want it all.”
“Fuck, Y/N. I really don’t deserve you,” he exhales shakily before finally kissing her.
The kiss is soft, almost hesitant, like they’re both testing the waters, afraid the other might dance back, but once they realize there’s no going back, it turns more passionate, all the need and craving that piled up not just in the past week but in the past years unleashes.
When they pull back, Harry rests his forehead against hers again, breathing her in like he needs to memorize the feeling of actually having her.
“Am I forgiven for being such an asshole?”
“You really were one, I never thought that you’d be the first one to kick me out after a hook up,” she chuckles.
“Technically, I didn’t kick you out,” he protests with a smirk, but she punches him in the chest. “You’re never gonna let me live it down, right?” he sighs.
“Oh, you’re right. I will bring this up until the end of time,” she grins.
“That’s okay,” he nods with a softer smile. “As long as I have you that long.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
A/N: this is the first thing I've written in like 8 months and it's basically just smut...I was inspired...18+ please lol (this isn't proofread and maybe it should be hahahah)
“It’s like ripping off a bandaid, love. Just go for it.”
Harry and Y/N were situated in the bathroom, Harry sitting on a small stool facing the mirror with Y/N behind him. She had a pair of hair-cutting scissors in one hand and clippers in the other. He was really doing this.
“You know if you’re bald, you can’t steal my hair clips anymore, right?”
He gives her a faint smirk. “That crossed my mind.”
“No more running your hands through it.”
“Are you upset about that, or am I?”
“This is drastic!”
Harry meets Y/N’s gaze in the mirror before turning around to face her. “Darling, it’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Please help me cut it before I lose my nerve.”
So Y/N ends up with scissors to her boyfriend’s luscious, signature curly locks. Each strand of hair that falls on the ground nearly causes her to flinch, and out of her peripherals, she can see Harry watching her every move.
“Just trying to be careful to make sure it looks good…the whole point of me cutting it is to avoid you going to the shop, yeah?”
Harry reaches behind him at this, slightly squeezing her thigh in confirmation. “I know, love. I didn’t say anything. I don’t have anywhere to be.”
Y/N asks him at least two more times if he is sure before taking the clippers to his head, but when Harry gives her a firm nod telling her to proceed, she tries to remind herself to breathe as she shaves the first section. Harry shivers at the sensation of his hair hitting his bare back and shoulders.
“‘S a good thing I got the head shape for going bald, huh?”
“Well…”
”Y/N! You’re gonna make me second guess-”
“I’m kidding, H! I think you’ve got a lovely head shape for going bald,” Y/N positions herself in front of him so she can better see what she’s doing at the front of his head, near his hairline. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair shorter than when you cut it for Dunkirk.”
“Remember when I picked you up one day without mentioning it because I thought it would be a fun surprise?”
Y/N pauses her movements, playfully glaring at him. “I think I’d mistake you for an intruder or something if you came through the door completely bald with no warning.”
“Isn’t it nice that I asked you to do it for me this time instead of just shocking you?”
Y/N hums at this, and the couple falls into a comfortable silence as she continues to cut his hair. Harry fiddles with his hands in his lap and reaches behind him occasionally to stroke Y/N’s thigh, but nothing is said between the two.
Harry’s the first to break their cozy silence. “Woah…my hair.”
“I know.”
He turns around on the stool, looking up slightly to make direct eye contact with her. “You like it, though?”
“It’ll grow on me.”
“Y/N…”
“I’m kidding, H.”
He turns back to the mirror, inspecting his reflection. “Tell me you like it, babe. Even if you don’t.”
Y/N lets out a small giggle at her boyfriend’s fishing for a compliment. “You look handsome. It’ll take some getting used to, but…I do like it.”
Harry makes a slight, triumphant noise before letting Y/N resume the task at hand. She splashes lukewarm water on the top of his head and gently pats it dry with a hand towel before finishing off with his favorite aftershave.
“Good?”
Harry leans in close to the mirror and turns his head from side to side, carefully inspecting his new look. After a few moments, he nods, turning back to Y/N and leaning in to kiss her.
“It’ll take some getting used to on my end, too, but I think I like it.”
“They say that after you shave your head, your hair comes back healthier and stronger than ever.”
“So we’re shaving yours next, then?”
Y/N playfully swats her boyfriend, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, no.”
Harry shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind, darling.”
He exits the bathroom, searching for the broom and dustpan to get up his hair while Y/N goes downstairs to begin dinner. He joins her soon after, wordlessly telling her to sit down and relax when he picks up the knife she just set down to stir the pot of sauce she had bubbling on the stove. In front of her sits a cutting board with an onion, garlic, and different colored bell peppers. Y/N hated cutting those vegetables because she didn’t like how hard the smell was to get off her hands, so he knew she was leaving that task for last in hopes that he would do it (he did, of course).
“I hate chopping vegetables.”
“I know, love.”
Harry reaches up to run his hands through his curls out of force of habit and abruptly stops when he realizes there is no longer anything to actually run his hands through. He turns to take a quick peek at Y/N to see if she saw him. She did.
“I knew that would happen!” She exclaims with a laugh. “I just didn’t think it would happen less than an hour after cutting your hair.”
“It’s an adjustment period!” Harry responds with mock defensiveness, joining Y/N in her glee. Even if she was laughing at him instead of with him, he still felt all warm inside because at least he was the reason for her laughter.
“I can’t wait for our friends to see–what do you think Mitch is gonna say?”
Harry spins around, and yanks opens the cabinet in search of one of the many boxes of pasta they always had on hand. “Penne or bowtie?”
“Bowtie,” Y/N gets up from her seat at the kitchen island to fill their big pot with water to boil the noodles. “I bet he’ll be shocked, especially because his hair is so long. Do you think he would ever cut his hair?”
Harry smiles at his girlfriend’s chattiness. “I think he’ll make fun of me a bit - maybe call me an egghead or something to that degree. He’ll like it, though.”
“What do you think the fans will say?”
Harry lets out a huff of air. “Oh, they’ll have the most to say. It’ll grow on them, I’m sure.”
“I can’t wait to see all the discourse on Twitter.”
“Only send me funny Tweets.”
Y/N hums in confirmation and goes back to her seat at the table after putting the water on to boil. “You know what I’ll miss the most about your hair?”
“What’s that?” Harry asks his question absentmindedly as he putters around the kitchen, retrieving plates and two wine glasses. “Wine?”
“Yes, please,” Y/N pauses. “Gonna miss having something to tug on during sex.”
Harry pauses his movements at this, his full attention now on his girlfriend. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods.
“You can still grab on me.”
“Not your hair, though.”
“You can leave me scratches. Will that suffice until my hair grows back?”
Y/N pretends to be deep in thought at this, which causes Harry to laugh loudly. She answers after a few moments. “I suppose that’ll work…”
“Y’know how much I love when you mark up my back,” Harry uncorks a bottle of wine and pours them each a small glass. “Now, there will be no excuses not to.” He walks over to Y/N, carefully handing her her own glass of wine before taking a sip of his. She then takes a sip, puckering her face at the slightly bitter taste.
The conversation is forgotten until the couple is in their room after dinner, bellies full of pasta and tongues stained slightly purple from their red wine.
“Is that really what you’ll miss most about my hair?”
“Hmm?” Y/N hums in response for Harry to continue, distracted at her vanity with her (overly) extensive skincare routine.
“Pullin’ on it during sex.”
Y/N looks at him through her reflection in the mirror. “I mean, maybe not literally the most, but it’s up there. Gonna take some getting used to, that’s all.”
“Maybe we should have sex now so you can start gettin’ used to it.” Harry has a sly look, eyelids slightly drooping from his arousal and the wine he consumed at dinner. Y/N throws her head back in laughter.
“You know you can just straight up ask for it, yeah?” She caps the last of her serums and turns around to face her boyfriend, stalking toward the bed as she continues talking. “I’m never not gonna want you to give it to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry now has a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gonna mark my back all up? Remind me who I belong to whenever I get in the shower?” There was nothing he reveled in more than the burning sensation of hot water hitting his freshly scratched back after a particularly rough session with his girlfriend.
Y/N nods in response as she drops a knee onto the bed, plopping down in front of her boyfriend. Harry smirks at how she’s already been rendered wordless, situating himself on his knees as she pushes her onto her back. “But first…”
He places his hands on either side and immediately dives in, licking a broad stripe up her pussy. Harry quietly moans in pleasure when Y/N lets out a choked gasp, hands immediately reaching out to grab his head.
“Oh, fuck…,” she groans, throwing her head back in pleasure. “Just like that, H.”
He moves his attention to her swollen clit, flicking it quickly in between his tongue. “Like this?”
Y/N sucks in a particularly sharp breath when Harry speeds up his movements, eyes smug at the fact he already had Y/N’s thighs quivering when he hadn’t even been between them for a full minute yet.
“Harry, please…”
He lifts his head momentarily to answer her, lips glistening with a combination of his saliva and her arousal. “Please what, darling?”
Y/N balls-up the fist resting on Harry’s head out of force of habit, letting out a frustrated whine when she’s met with nothing. He chuckles at this and simply reaches up, moving her hand in the direction of his back. Her nails reflexively dig into his back when he resumes his menstruation on her pussy.
His tongue begins moving impossibly faster, wanting to get her there now. He knew she needed this orgasm just as badly as he needed to give it to her. Harry lets out a sharp hiss when he feels her nails drag down the expanse of his back, her moans increasing in frequency and volume. She was close. He removes his tongue from her clit, replacing his mouth with his fingers.
“There you go, angel,” he reaches up to grab her chin with his free hand to force her to look down at him, not up at the ceiling. “Open your eyes and look at me when I’m making you feel this good.”
Y/N forces her eyes open to look at her boyfriend’s. She watches as he thumbs impossibly fast over her swollen bud, murmuring praises and sweet words about how she’s so beautiful and always gets so wet so fast for him. It doesn’t take much longer before Y/N is throwing her head back with a cry, nails digging into Harry’s back and dragging down as she cums. All she sees is flashes of white, hears ringing in her ears and she thinks it might be the best orgasm she’s had all week. Harry sucks her clit through the entirety of her orgasm, wanting to milk her pleasure for as long as humanly possible. He can feel his back beginning to sting and he wonders if Y/N scratched hard enough to draw blood. He hoped so.
“No more…,” she mumbles quietly, pushing her boyfriend’s mouth away from her most sensitive area. “Shit.”
“All good?” He messily wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning down to give her a chaste kiss. “Still missing the hair?”
tags: lil miguel backstory, miguel pov recap, perv!mig, horny thoughts, so dirty & filthy, he’s plotting, sex worker (positive!), room 1 mention, to 1 on 1 room, grand reveal, slight confessions. 18+ smut. cunnilingus, fingering, slight grinding, finger sucking, blowjob, unprotected sex (do not do!!), confession, creampie
a/n: for Miguel’s birthday here’s my long ass awaited rookie 3!! happy birthday to my mf man
part one — part two | kinktober masterlist | main masterlist
Miguel was one to keep his personal life private. Very private.
Unlike you, he actually had plenty of money in all of his accounts. He had enough to buy himself and a couple of the other spider’s houses, if he really wanted.
Not only was this man loaded but he was also lonely as hell. Though he’d never admit it to anyone and would prefer to suffer in peace and silence, the loneliness was starting to get him.
Unfortunately like the saying goes, “money doesn’t buy happiness.”
Until he found out, it indeed did.
He found the brothel way before you even realized you needed to make more money. He didn’t have a hard time with women but he was just looking for an easy way to get his dick sucked with no strings attached.
And if he could help a sex worker’s life with extra cash, why not?
After receiving blowjobs by different women he specifically chose, he found out quickly how much he liked this. The voyeur in him was awakening out of nowhere and he couldn’t help but love shoving his dick down a pretty girl’s throat without even being able to see her.
There was just something about the anonymity about it that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around but boy was he obsessed with it.
So obsessed, he became a regular.
He respected all the women and always made sure to give them a big enough tip so none of them would have to worry about food, water, or rent. It made sense in his head to help any of them out if they needed it, they were obviously providing a service but he did befriend a few of them.
Many needed an easy and quick way to make money because they were struggling but even when Miguel would help them out, they realized it might be a smart move to stay anyway. Was an easy way to make some fast cash because they had tons of regulars that went in more often than him. Which said a lot.
It was rare that the brothel would get a new girl, mainly because it was hard to even spot it and was an “if you know, you know” kind of operation.
So he was surprised when he got a call from Lola herself telling him a new rookie came in. At this point he had been going there for two years and he formed a bond with the girls, especially Lola who he now considered a close friend.
Without a second thought he dropped what he was doing and used his watch to open a portal to the roof of the brothel but quickly realized he was spider-man right now and not Miguel. So he had to make another portal to his place so he could quickly change.
He scrambled to put together an alright outfit then opened a portal to the alleyway right next to the building. He quickly closed the portal and hid his watch under the sleeve of his jacket.
Thankfully Lyla already knew to only contact him in case of an absolute emergency otherwise she does not bother him when he’s there.
He was nearly sprinting to the main entrance and almost knocked other clientele over but Estelle gave him a look as if saying “calm down”, and he did. He was not in the mood to get a lecture from her.
He couldn’t help the excitement of not only trying out a new throat but also potentially being able to help someone new who might need it.
He never would’ve guessed the chaos that would ensue mainly because he didn’t think anyone in the spider society would be struggling money-wise, let alone you, who he knew was such a hard worker.
And he had no idea it was your throat he would fuck, at least not at first.
The next morning after that night Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the new rookie who took a throat fucking like a champ and he couldn’t help as the curiousity arose of who it could be. But already knowing the rules of the anonymity of those who wish for it, he ignored it.
He had to, to feel sane otherwise he’d just lose his mind.
On another note he found it strange that you hadn’t shown up to HQ yet considering you always came in early to help around wherever you could assist. It was technically still morning but getting closer to noon which was a bit concerning.
“Lyla can you track-“ He started to say but was interrupted.
“On it!” Lyla appears in front of him and does just that.
She always seemed to be teasing him about you for some reason so it was a no brainer for her to assume who he was thinking of, which just proved her inner thoughts right.
Why you’ve recently been living in his head is actually beyond him and he couldn’t bring himself to think of it as more as just caring for a friend.
“She is at her apartment here! Do you want me to contact her-“
“No. Do not, at least not yet.” He mumbles and shakes his head.
Maybe you were feeling sick or got an injury while on the missions yesterday? You would be stubborn enough to not tell him but would that really have you sleeping in this much?
Then an idea struck him and he was frozen in place.
An idea so unlike you it really had him in disbelief he’d even think it.
But then he really thought about it and maybe it wouldn’t be impossible?
Anything could be possible.
But this really had him stumped. Could there be a possibility you were the one at the brothel last night?
He scoffed and shook his head, as well as those thoughts deep in the back of his head that were secretly hoping it was you.
There had to be a logical explanation to you not coming early…
But what would the harm be in doing a little.. experiment to see if there’s anyway it somehow was you.
“Lyla call her around one, tell her that I want to see her in my office.” He says and she nods.
He had low hopes of this sick fantasy actually somehow being real but he just had to know and he was planning on testing you. In case it really was you.
He was looking at his screens and watching as you made the walk to his office and it really seemed like a walk of shame. You looked so nervous and may as well have been breaking a sweat.
It was a complete 180 to how you usually act, you’re usually so chill but also giddy. This was unlike you and now he was confident his plan would help him determine the verdict.
The nervousness was a bit helpful, very insightful but that wasn’t enough evidence to confirm it indeed was you.
What was a bit more helpful was how even more nervous you got while standing right in front of him. You may as well have been shaking and even more when he looked at your lips for a split second.
He nearly got distracted just thinking about those possibly identical plump lips that took his cock so well but he had to get his head out of the gutter.
Then the slightest bit of gaslighting came only to make it seem like this was just a friend annoyed his friend didn’t do some work for him.
A perfect facade.
Your blank look after that nearly had him wanting to confess but he wanted more. He needed that 100% confirmation and couldn’t act properly until he had it.
If this “Rosie Angel” really was you, he didn’t want to scare you off. So he took another break from going to the brothel, as much as it physically pained him.
Whether it was you or not, he needed that throat taking his cock again but lord even better would be to just be inside-
No.
He was getting way too ahead of himself but he couldn’t help it, after all this was possibly the best case scenario for him.
As perverted as it was he wanted it to be you so badly. Maybe a bit selfish on his end or just his consciousness realizing his horny and maybe romantic thoughts towards you are becoming evidently worse than usual, he didn’t care.
So for a week straight he just dealt with the horniness with his own fist and tried his hardest to not get a boner whenever you were near because his brain just made him believe it was you who took his cock. The pavlov theory really did a number on his routine.
It was a challenge but he was also able to do regular ole missions with you. He conditioned himself to not have those thoughts when lives could be at stake, when he was doing his job as Spider-Man.
At the end of the week when he was already planning on going back to the brothel is when he got texts from both Lola and Estelle that the rookie was getting switched to room 1 and he was beyond thrilled.
Them not hearing the end of how much he liked the rookie’s service along with the amount of how much he paid plus tipped that night made them laugh at how fast he got obsessed, but little do they know just how much he’s been losing his mind.
This may as well have been a dream come true for him but he still needed that 100% confirmation. And there was one easy way to do that.
One that he should’ve thought of way sooner but better late than never.
He only tracked people’s watches when it was absolutely necessary, and this felt very necessary so he didn’t hesitate.
“Lyla can you-“
“Yep!”
He rolled his eyes and groaned, at this point he’s just becoming predictable and he hates that his AI knows what he’s thinking.
“She is…” her eyes widen and he can’t handle the anticipation.
“Where Lyla? Where is she?” He asks desperately, needing that confirmation or for her to deny it to just throw this whole idea out of his head.
“She is at your favorite place!” She says and without another word he opens a portal straight to the alleyway by the brothel since he was already dressed properly.
Lyla disappeared without another word, already knowing the routine but having a feeling this one would be slightly different for him.
He quickly closed the portal and looked around to where your watch could be. Maybe to call it irresponsible later because technically it could get into the wrong hands but he had bigger matters into his hands.
He was finally going to fuck you, and because of Lola’s clumsy manner of saying his name that night he was almost certain that you knew it was him. Now all he was thinking was why you didn’t have the courage to confront him all week?
He was losing his mind all week but then figured you might’ve also been the same way, maybe even worse because he paid you generously.
Finally after some loud beeps letting him know where the watch was he found an array of webs by some trash bags. Subtle.
He sighed noticing it was untouched and started walking towards the entrance. Now was when the horny thoughts came in and he didn’t bother to stop them this time.
It wasn’t the most ideal way to fuck you but nonetheless he’s finally gonna do it.
He took his phone out and quickly texted Lola he was outside so they could get straight to it. He walked in and there was a line of men giving money to Estelle while they murmured about fucking such a perfect pussy.
It was to no surprise they were talking about the rookie, you, of course. It only had him grow more excited that he stuck three fingers up then made a zero to Estelle so she can get the hint that’s how much extra time he wanted with you.
He only did this on special occasions, so of fucking course he was going to do that tonight of all nights.
She rolled her eyes and nodded then waved him off while she counted the bills that were going to be all for you.
He walked past the men and there was Lola with the most obnoxious smirk on her face which only prompted him to roll his eyes.
“Took you long enough Mig.” She jokes with a chuckle then turns to walk towards the long hallway.
“Couldn’t really help myself.” He says with a slight shrug making her snicker.
He turned to look at her and her lips were in a straight line trying so hard to not laugh. She coughs then chuckles, “just never seen you so… well not pussy drunk but after tonight I’m sure you will be.”
Only now did he pay attention to the melody of different moans and whimpers that were up ahead. It only had him wondering which were yours and how angelic they’d sound as he first slips inside you.
Just like that he felt his pants getting tighter and the anticipation was killing him.
“You have no idea.” He murmurs, making her chuckle again.
“Y’know sharing is caring around these parts.” She joked, making him groan.
“We’ll have to see about that.” He scoffs with another eye roll.
“Was a week too long for you? Too pent up?” She teased and pouted at him, earning herself a laugh from him.
“Yeah something like that..” he mumbled, not exactly willing to give her the explanation she so desperately wants to know.
She’s yet to know about his actual main job and not the half lie that he’s a geneticist. He wants to keep it that way, mainly for her safety.
They made a left turn and Lola cleared her throat to prepare her preppy voice. Miguel laughs and grins, “time to take our acting skills to the test yet again.”
This time she rolled her eyes and stuck her middle finger up as they enter the first room. She brought her hands down and Miguel folded his arms against his chest as all the men looked at her just because of the loud clicks of her heels.
There he was beside her looking like a guard dog when really he was just making sure no one fucked with her when she does her job.
Meanwhile you were on the left side of the room in the middle slot fucking yourself back into the man that was pounding into you. After a few strokes he finished inside you and pulled out.
Lola made a gesture with her finger to the line of men that were behind you to beat it because someone with more money than them wanted a turn.
It was basically an unspoken rule to leave when Lola appeared.
Thankfully they all scrambled and that’s mostly just because of the big man next to her and also the fact that they know Miguel would beat them to a pulp if necessary like he has done before to previous assholes.
Miguel was somehow already rock hard and just seeing you in that position was enough for precum to leak in his boxers. He was fucking ready and beyond excited but the smallest bit of nervousness was also in the mix.
What if he came too fast? Or all of a sudden wasn’t good enough? Or if he moaned out your name?
“Here’s our rookie! She just got moved up front today actually!” Lola says excitedly as if you both didn’t know that already.
“Dropped in at the perfect time then huh?” He says and is now stood behind you, admiring your ass and dripping pussy.
Just so fucked out. Probably haven’t came either because men are just so greedy. He needs to be the one to change that.
“As if this isn’t your usual time Miguel.” She says and he nearly couldn’t stop the eye roll because of her playful tone.
Ignoring her, he started to unbuckle his pants because he was growing impatient and you were right in front of him. Looking so gorgeous with your ass out and now creamy pussy.
He pulled his pants down along with his boxers making his hard cock spring up against his stomach. Lola snickers for a second before walking away and off to find her next client.
Then he grabs his cock and rubs the tip against your folds then slides it down to your clit. He was already fucking aching to feel you so he didn’t hesitate to tease your hole, dipping the tip in slightly then pulling it away.
You were oddly quiet this time and he hated it. So he slammed into you and finally you let out a loud moan.
So pretty.
“Good girl.” He moans and places his hands on to your hips, moving it back into him.
You let out a whimper then sounded muffled and he couldn’t have that so he starts pounding into you so quick that you were back to moaning for him again.
He was letting out his own moans, he couldn’t be bothered to be quiet. This really was a dream come true and your pussy was pure heaven.
You were perfectly tight and he regretted not making a move before. Who would really care about him being an unprofessional boss?
No one would ever have the nerve to complain or do anything of the sort to his face.
He was now fucking you deeper and deeper, making sure to hit his hips against yours with every thrust. His eyes were nearly rolling to the back of his head and he was somehow already starting to feel that all too familiar feeling in his abdomen.
You were just squeezing him so perfectly and he couldn’t have ever guessed this would be happening two weeks ago.
A part of him felt a bit bad, a very small, tiny part. But your moans could got rid of that part and he couldn’t be bothered to care. He’ll deal with the consequences later.
For now, he desperately wanted to make you cum and fill you up.
He looked down at your perfect ass and smacked it before alternating between both cheeks which caused them to become a bit red. “Fuck baby- you feel so good wrapped around my cock like that." He moaned out and started fucking you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess.
“Fuckkk-“
He then started slowing down slightly and started hitting deeper, now hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. "Mmm fuck yes- please!" You cried out and move your ass up against him making him groan.
He smacked it and continued his pace letting out grunts and moans because you just felt so fucking good. "Oh god yes- just like that. Please don't stop-" you moaned and he just shook his head as if you could see him.
He then switched his pace now going faster, and fucking you harder again, leaving you a pretty whimpering mess for him.
One thing he was wishing for was being able to see your face, oh how badly he wanted to see how good you’d look.
How your face is looking right this instant. All he could see was the way your legs started to shake and he could tell you were close as well.
You were letting out the sweetest little cries for him after bringing a hand down to start rubbing your clit and they were only helping him get that much closer to the edge.
He continued his pace but with how perfect you sounded, he started to twitch inside you which resulted in you clenching against him, making you both moan.
He felt so fucking close and he could tell you right there with him, "Fucking cum for me pretty girl- fuck- please cum for me baby." He groans and you cry out, your whole body shaking as Miguel holds you steady as he came inside you.
Your walls were entrapping him as he completely slowed down, riding his climax. "I fucking knew you'd feel so good angel." He murmurs and slowly pulls out.
You whine as soon as he slipped out of you which only had him grinning ear to ear. He happily watched all his cum leak out of your pussy and chuckled when you clenched against nothing. Poor thing.
He sighed and tried to control his breathing as he pulled his boxers and pants up because there was no way he had another in him.
His worst nightmare, he did cum too fast.
He’d just have to make it up to you.
So as you calmed yourself down as soon as he heard Lola’s heels he ushered her over and told her to tell Estelle to not let anyone fuck you for half an hour because he still wanted to pay for it but to use it to give you a break.
“You’re such a good man Mig.” She says and gives him a genuine smile.
He waved her off and looked at the mess below your legs. It was a lot and hopefully you wouldn’t be doing this for too long otherwise you’ll definitely have a reason to not go to work tomorrow and he wasn’t going to have that.
If it weren’t for Miguel’s generousity, you definitely would’ve been overstimulated to hell and back. You gladly took that half hour to calm down but then took another break because your legs were hurting.
Given you were getting used like a fleshlight for a straight hour before Miguel came along but he was just the one that pushed you over the edge.
You didn’t expect that was how your night was gonna go. You only stayed for another hour before deciding you couldn’t do anymore and went home. Not a singular man could give you an orgasm, only edging you for their own pleasure once again.
But not before hearing from Estelle that you didn’t ease yourself into it which had you groaning.
Once collecting your watch you just opened a portal right then and there. You closed it then went directly to the bathroom clean yourself up as fast as you could because you were ready to knock out.
After a few minutes of lazily cleaning up, you went into your room and took off all your clothes and quickly put on fresh new clothes. You then plopped onto your bed and immediately knocked out.
You woke up to the loud sounds of police sirens and cars screeching outside your window and it was times like these you wish you weren’t living in a crappy apartment.
You just groaned and covered your face with your body pillow, not wanting to wake up or even feel the sun hit you. Just stay home and relax because your body desperately needed it.
But you were more responsible than that.
So you groaned and threw your pillow to the side and looked over at your clock on your bedside table. 11:26 am.
“Shit!!” You mutter and jump out of bed only to fall straight to the floor.
You groaned and slowly got back on your feet, you steadied yourself and you were barely able to stand.
At this point it’d be so obvious.
You slowly walked to your bathroom praying a shower could ease the pain because you couldn’t go out saving lives if you couldn’t even fucking walk.
After your shower you felt a bit better, it relaxed your muscles and might barely be enough for you to go on about your day.
But you just might not go to the brothel tonight, so your body can take a break otherwise this whole ordeal might mess up with the most important part of your life.
You grab your suit and put it on before grabbing your watch and putting it on as well. You make a portal to HQ and walk towards it, mask in hand.
You ended up in the lobby and quickly made your way inside to see who you could help or if you could immediately join in on a mission.
Meanwhile Miguel was watching you on his screens very carefully. After last night he thought it was best to be upfront and honest, not just because it was morally correct but because he couldn’t handle doing everything he’s done and not even making it real.
Not behind his facade at the brothel of a rich lonely man, but as him.
As the guy who gives the orders around in your main job or the guy who sometimes goes on missions with you. Or even the guy who sometimes cracks up at the jokes you make but more importantly, as the guy who has grown to like you.
As Miguel O’Hara.
He realized that it was about time that he came to terms with his true feelings and after he’s done telling you, he’ll just have to wait for your reaction.
So he assigned Jess to take you on a handful of missions, all to catch easier anomalies because he knew you must’ve been tired. Then when you’d go to your universe, he’d wait until you got back and put his plan into action.
Finally after what seemed like the longest day imaginable, you made a portal from your universe to your apartment back at Earth-928.
You walked into your room, quickly closing the portal, and immediately plopped down onto your bed with a groan. You sighed and closed your eyes, thinking a little nap won’t hurt.
You scoot over making sure your whole body is on the mattress then laying your head against your pillow. But right when sleep was about to take over, you feel your phone buzz in your suit pocket.
You were going to ignore it until it buzzed again and you just groaned then turned to your side to pull it out. You looked at the lockscreen notifications and see it was a text from Lola.
With a furrowed brow you tap the message then unlock your phone. You scan through the text and your eyes quickly widen. She said someone was requesting for you at the one on one rooms.
Someone.
There was only one fucking person that came to mind and it brought instant anxiety to your body. Miguel had to have somehow figured out it was you because one on ones were, from what you’ve seen, the most expensive.
And if by some miracle it wasn’t him then you must’ve really been making good impressions.
You were unsure if it was a good idea to go, mostly because you feared the absolute worst. You really loved being a part of the Spider Society and would hate to not be a part of it just because you needed another job to make more money.
It would be the most unfortunate thing to happen but it made you realize it’s probably for the best to be upfront and honest. You knew from the start that it was him and it should’ve been top priority to tell him instead of keeping quiet about it.
And then proceeding to accept his money after the fact... It wasn’t technically stealing but it sure did feel like it so you’d have to return it as well.
You sighed, getting up and walking towards your closet to figure out what to wear. You eyes scanned through the side where you had your dresses and decided why not.
You grabbed a red velvet bodycon dress because if you were about to have a reveal and confrontation, you may as well look good for it.
After putting it on the dresser, you quickly went into the bathroom to take the quickest shower ever but completely avoiding your hair because there wasn’t time for it.
You got out, quickly scrambling back into your room to put on undergarments then the dress. You grabbed a pair of regular black heels, putting them on carefully then going back to your bed to put on your watch.
Realizing you couldn’t expose your watch, you turned to the small sofa by your bed and grabbed the leather jacket. You opened the portal to the alleyway then put the jacket on as you walked in.
You felt an immediate shiver as you walked onto the pavement. You closed the portal then walked towards the front entrance, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your body. Not only was it cold but you were nervous as fuck and that didn’t mix well.
You tried to shake the nerves but it was hard to. In a way, your life was on the line and heavily relied on a man who you somewhat have a decent relationship with. One who you have slowly been getting feelings for but that’s besides the point.
Now walking through the front door did not help ease your mind and only made it more real.
You went up to Estelle and she handed you the sheet, “still want the mask?”
You hummed, really thinking about it for a second but then nodded, “yes please.”
You signed in then she handed you a matching red mask while she grabbed the sheet. “Give me a second Rosie.” She says, holding a finger up and you nod as you put the mask on.
She then picks up a walkie talkie and speaks into it, “we need Lola up front.”
While you waited for Lola you tried to calm yourself down. Silently praying it wouldn’t be him. But if it was him then praying it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
You faced away from Estelle and took deep breaths, wanting this to be as fast as ripping a bandaid off.
Finally you heard Lola’s clicks and you looked to your left to find her walking up to you, “and the rookie upgrades once again!”
You chuckle then follow her lead to the stairway as Estelle wished you luck.
You’ll need it.
“How are you feeling?” She asks as you start to climb up.
“Nervous.” You mumble and quickly go up the stairs to catch up and stand next to her.
“Aw it’s okay. I remember my first time and you just gotta be honest with the guy. Communication is key for this scenario and set ground rules on what is, and isn’t okay.” She advises and you nod along.
The last part really got to you and made you realize how wrong you’ve gone about this. Maybe being honest after you sucked his dick would’ve been better than now.
Hell you weren’t so sure the booked room was even going to be used as intended, but hopefully the walls were thick.
“Oh and don’t worry about the walls, they’re better than the ones downstairs.” She adds as you made it to the second floor.
She walks ahead of you and for the most part the hall was quiet. That was until you walked past the doors and could barely hear the faint sounds of moans.
This floor looked like it was recently remodeled, fresh wallpaper, bulbs that actually worked. Huge difference from the main floor.
You walked past like eight doors, being that this floor was like an apartment hallway and it seemed they were booked early.
Finally she stopped at the number ten and motioned towards the door, “here you are. If you need anything just shoot me a text.”
You quickly nodded, reaching for your jacket pocket but realizing you forgot to grab your phone before leaving.
Well it was too late for that now.
“Have fun!” She chirped and walked away from you, going back the way you came from.
You took a deep breath then let it out and repeating it until your heart beat stopped racing. Once you finally felt emotionally and physically ready you grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.
You walked in and closed the door shut behind you, looking straight at the bed but more importantly at the familiar figure sitting on the end of it.
You held your breath and you felt your mouth run dry, shit.
He slowly turned to look at you, once his eyes met yours and that’s when you knew that he knew.
His eyes alone proved it.
You walked towards him when he stands up and turns to face you. He kept his hands to himself as you got closer until you were stood right in front of him.
His eyes bored into yours and if looks could kill, that is not what his were saying at all. It was surprisingly the opposite. His eyes were soft and warm, quite the distinction from how they usually were which made it all the more confusing.
You gulped and decided you had to be the one to start, it was only right. “Miguel I-“
But it seemed he had a different plan.
“No, please, let me go first.” He cuts you off and you’re instantly confused.
“Just starting off by saying I’m not mad, hell quite the opposite..” he starts, muttering the last part and you gasp because what.
“Also I didn’t immediately know right after the first night, I had to do some investigating before bringing it up to you to make sure that it really was you.” He says and you slowly nod.
“I did have the thought it was you after you didn’t come in the next day, bright and early like usual but couldn’t base it off just that.” He explains making you chuckle.
“You’re too smart for your own good.” You respond and he shrugs.
“I only thought of using the tracker on your watch the day you were switched to the first room so don’t give me too much credit.” He admits earning himself a scoff.
“Our watches have trackers….” You say dumbfounded with wide eyes and he just stays silent.
“Anyway… so what are your reasons for not telling me? Given that Lola said my name by accident so you definitely knew.” He changed the topic because he wanted to know bad, he’s been wanting to know all week.
“I uh.. well I guess because I was mainly thinking you were going to curse me out or fire me and I didn’t want to lose my place at the Spider Society.” You admitted then quickly added, “and because we- I, y’know… y-yesterday- well I j-just- I didn’t know how to.”
Your face burned up quick and seeing him in the flesh while thinking of everything you did was just something else.
Just last night he was-
You were bent over-
No. No time to think about it. It was not the time.
Suddenly it felt like the room grew hotter and your nerves were coming back again. What was it he said to start this all off with? Opposite of mad? The hell did that mean?
Your mind was going thousands of miles an hour right now so you were lost as fuck and not in the mood for mind games. “So what’s the opposite of mad?” You ask and he sighed.
His hand reached out to your face and he pulled up the mask then threw it to the floor. Seeing your face and now visually confirming it with his own eyes, he knew what he had to do.
“I just think that what happened doesn’t mean the end of the world..” he murmurs and you feel your heart start to race.
No fucking way-
“So what you're saying is we don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen?” You quietly ask and he slowly nods, “I think I’d prefer that.”
“Why's that?” You whisper and gulp. Was this really happening?
“I was kind of hoping it was you..” he says and takes another step closer to you.
“Listen you know I’m not good at talking about things like this- it’s just- well recently I’ve-“ he stammered and was avoiding your eyes.
You bring a hand up to his face and make him look at you, “we could do this outside of the brothel.” You suggest and he nods.
His cheeks were warm against your hands, your heart was beating out of your chest, and this all just felt so right. You could tell where things were going and you were happy this is how things were turning out. This was something you never thought you’d ever get to do with him but yet it was nice.
Well it was better than nice, it was something you’ve wanted for a while but were too scared to admit it.
“I should’ve just told you sooner- about last night-“ he couldn’t even finish either sentence so you took another step closer, now being as close as you can be.
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” You whisper, moving your hands down to wrap them around his neck, “not right now anyway.”
His eyes scanned you, looking for any discomfort or hint of uneasiness but there was no sign of either.
He quickly wrapped one arm around your waist and the other to your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed him back without a second thought immediately knowing this is what you wanted.
It’s what you both wanted all along.
So because of that, the kiss quickly went from soft and sweet to hot and heavy within mere seconds. Your hands were all over each other, quickly scrambling to take off clothes while also getting a proper feel for each other's bodies.
Your hands were on his biceps as he took your jacket off and threw it behind him. You pulled away for a split second so he can help you get on the bed but not before he took a look at your wrist. “Oh we’re having a talk about your watch later.”
“Fuck yeah we are because what did you mean by tracker-“ you test and raise an eyebrow.
He just waved you off, grabbing onto your back as he helped you lay down on the middle of the bed while he hovered over you. “Like I said, later.” He responded making you playfully roll your eyes.
That was when he grabbed onto your wrist and slipped said watch from it and he reached over, placing it on to the bedside table, before doing the same to his, “you take it off during sex?” You ask and fight back a laugh.
“Well I see you technically did the same…” he mumbled and went down to kiss you from your jaw then slowly going down.
“Whatever..” you mutter and bring your hands to his head, running your fingers through his slicked back hair.
He left soft kisses along your neck while running his hands up and down your body, now taking a proper feel for himself. This could technically count as your first, since you’re seeing each other and not blocked off by a wooden wall. Hopefully it'll be the first of many in your near future because he was already obsessed.
He sucked on your neck, making sure to leave a mark then licking it softly. He kissed down your neck, then to your collarbone and then down to your cleavage. He could take his time and really savor the moment, and you but he was too impatient and insatiable to wait.
He lowered himself down, kissing your stomach over your dress then going down even lower. He kissed your thigh and kept going to which point he lifted your left leg up just to continue his trail. He sat up and kissed your ankle gently then grabbed your heel and took it off.
He put that leg down then went to grab the next. He held it up gently, taking the heel off and putting the pair on the floor below him. He kissed your ankle then started coming up fast so he laid back down, licking eyes with you the whole time until he was right between your thighs.
His arms spread your legs and he got closer, kissing your inner thigh then switching to the other. He looked at the red panties and groaned because he was able to smell your arousal already. His heightened smell helped but even then the small indent of your slick wasn’t helping you either way.
“Didn’t have a chance to do this yet.” He mutters as he grabs the fabric, pulling it to the side and nearly drooling at the sight.
“But you knew it was me last night, right? You technically could’ve.” You teased, making him chuckle.
“Too impatient once I realized it was you.” He murmurs, looking up at you, “like you are now?” You retort and he nods.
He looks back down and dives right in, licking at your folds to have a proper taste and now he’s glad he saved it for right now.
He moaned against you as your sweet arousal filled his mouth, somehow tasting even better than he could have ever imagined. His tongue went up and flicked your clit while his left arm wrapped around your thigh.
Maybe actually seeing him, just clicked in your brain that it really was him all along.
He added the first finger in, sliding it in so easily as he went back up to suck on your clit. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you moaned his name, subconsciously grinding against the mattress to feel some sort of pleasure himself.
And of course your moans were also angelic, that should not have been a surprise since he heard them already but yet it was. He slid his finger out then back in before piling it in and out at a fast pace right off the bat, “oh fuck Miguel- just like that baby-“ you moaned and felt your eyes flutter.
The pleasure was already making you dizzy but it might just be the fact that he admitted he wanted it to be you that played a part in making your head spin. How he could suck at anything that involves feelings but be amazing at showing it, was beyond you.
He pulled away, eyes on your pretty face as his glistening lips turned into a smile. Even if he did wait to confess to more than just one thing, he felt content with how he did it. At least it made sense in terms of your relationship.
Your arousal was already dripping down his finger and it had him needing more.
So he added a second finger, and licked his lips as you locked eyes with you, “that feel good angel?” He murmurs and you quickly nod.
“Fuck yes- yes it does.” You whine as he pumps them harder into you.
“Doing so good for me too baby. Fuck I need to be inside you again.” He moans, making your walls clench against his fingers.
“Mm you like that huh? God there was nothing I wanted more than to just take you out of the box and bring you up here.” He murmurs and it makes you shake.
“I wouldn’t have complained.” You say with a grin as he groans.
“Can we switch? I need you.” You offered and didn’t even mean to sound so desperate but he couldn’t say no.
“Are you sure?” He asks, just to make sure because he’d love to still give you pleasure.
He’d be there between your legs for hours if you’d let him.
You nod and let go of his hair, “need you in my mouth again too.”
His eyes roll back before laying back on you and he slowly slips his fingers out then sits up. You quickly get on top of him and start grinding yourself against the hard imprint of his dick. He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean as you did so, the eye contact feeling so intimate.
Your hands were on his shoulders, steadying yourself as he moved you both to the top of the mattress. You push him down and he takes his fingers out of his mouth when you suddenly pull him in for a kiss.
He kissed back and slid his tongue inside your mouth so you could taste yourself as well. You could taste it so easily and it had your head spinning again.
You break away and go down his body, quickly unbuttoning his dress shirt because you needed a peek. Your hands trail along his pecs and go down the line of his abs as you gawk at his body.
Of course that tight fitting suit left nearly nothing to the imagination.
You knew he was fit, but this was the body sculpted by Greek Gods themselves because he looked so fucking good.
You broke out of your little trance and went down lower until you were between his legs, hands already working on his belt as he spoke, “not spending too much time on this, I need you.”
You fought back a moan as you undid his belt and quickly did the button then lowered the zipper, “whatever you say, boss.”
His cock twitched right before your eyes and you quickly pulled it down making it spring up and hit his stomach. You grabbed it and the tip was leaking so much, you licked it off making sure to swallow before spitting on it then stroking him with both hands.
You got closer then opened your mouth and put it inside, instantly bobbing your head since it seemed you were both impatient. He moans and his hands went to your head, just petting it for now. You pull away just for a second to make things clear, “you can fuck my throat again if you want.”
“As good as it was, we’re gonna have to save it for another time.” He murmured and you nod then got right back to work.
You made sure to take him all the way down until his hairs started tickling you and your throat was filled then went back up just to immediately go back down, “fuck baby- doing so good, you like taking my cock huh?”
You moaned, squeezing your legs together as you nodded with your mouth full, “good girl- such a good fucking girl.” He murmured and you looked up at him through your lashes.
“Need you so bad baby, fuck-“ he moans and you felt your pussy clench around nothing.
Suddenly he pulls you off and he wipes your drool away with his hand while you quickly sit up, “how do you want me?”
“On your back, wanna look at you.” He says and you lay down.
You spread your legs as much as you could handle as he positions himself between your thighs. His hands rub the back of your thighs gently as he teases you with just the tip. He slips it in then right back out making you pout, “Miguel please.” You whined and he just grinned.
“Need it so bad baby? How bad do you want it?” He murmurs and you gulp.
“So fucking badly. It was on the back of my mind all day, just needed you to fuck me.” You admit and he groans before slipping it in.
He pushed himself all the way in and then pulled back just to slam back into you making you both moan. You nearly forgot how thick he was but you didn’t need time to adjust, it was like a perfect fit already.
He started to move instantly, desperate to make you both cum because those moans were gonna be the death of him. You squeezed him to fucking perfection and he was happy you felt the same way because he wasn’t so sure how he would’ve moved on from such a perfect girl with a perfect pussy if you didn’t.
His thrusts were fast and his hips were meeting yours as he started going harder, “fuck- if I cum fast again it’s not my fault.” He says in between breaths making you laugh.
“Oh so it’s mine?” You teased and he instantly nods.
“You fit like a fucking glove-“ he grunts, making you moan.
His hands suddenly came up to your chest, bringing the top of your dress down and the bra too before his hands started to squeeze your tits in his hands, “perfect tits too, fuck you’re perfect.”
Your walls entrapped his cock, making every thrust feel even better. His fingers pinched your nipples as your hands just grabbed his arms, wanting to feel absolutely everything, “Fuck Miguel just like that- don’t stop-“
“Don’t plan on it.” He mutters then groans.
You felt even better than last night which he didn’t think was even possible.
Your juices were making a ring around his base which had him losing his mind once he noticed. He focused on going harder and deeper now since he was able to tell that he was sadly already getting close.
How it was possible that your body did this to him twice on back to back nights was crazy, but he was really surprised because it was you, of all people.
“After this I don’t think I’ll need to come back here.” He says, making you melt, “Yeah? Found what you needed?”
“Mmm I sure hope so.” He purrs and you grab onto his shirt and pull him close to you.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close as possible which made him hit your sweet spot with every thrust, “fuck! Oh my fuck-“
“Oh baby- god you’re fucking perfect.” He moans as you wrap your arms behind his neck.
He leaned his forehead against yours as you moaned in sync every time he hit your sweet spot. You breathed against each other, just living in the moment and relishing that this was real.
You brought a hand down and started rubbing your clit because you felt that too familiar feeling building in your stomach and wanted to be able to cum with him. He could feel you clench against him even more now and he could feel his own orgasm on fast approach.
That’s when his brain decided to make a heartfelt confession, “Y’know I think I’ve a-always liked you- just too stubborn for my own good sometimes.”
You gasped then tried to keep your eyes open and on his as he continued, “Please be mine, I’ll take care of you, anything you need I’ve got you. Just need you like this and to always by my side.”
You whimpered and nodded, your heart racing fast and the butterflies mixing with your incoming orgasm overwhelming you, “yes- fuck yes absolutely-“
He then leaned in and smashed his lips against yours, he slid his tongue inside your mouth and immediately fighting for dominance as he started to twitch inside you. He moaned against your mouth and you just kept the sloppy kiss going as long as you could.
Just then both your orgasms came crashing down and you were letting out combinations of mewls and whines as he groaned and spilled his load as deep as he could. Your bodies molded together, you brought your hand up then caressed his arms as his hand was on your jaw, light stroking your cheek as you came down from your highs.
He pulled away from your mouth and leaned his forehead to yours as you both panted. His thumb stroked your cheek softly as he slowed down then slowly started to pull out but you stopped him, “wait- not yet. Let's just stay like this for a while.”
“I don’t wanna crush you though.” He murmurs then flips onto his back slowly.
You held onto him and laid your head on his chest, now bringing your right hand up to his chest. You were able to hear his heart beat and it made you smile, feeling a new sense of happiness and tranquility.
He held you gently, stroking your head as he attempted to calm his rapid breathing. Your presence helped, with just hearing your soft breaths, his slowed down and he felt overall happy that this is how things ended.
He didn’t think he’d be lucky enough for something like this to happen to him but he’ll never take it for granted. He’ll take care of you and treat you like he should’ve been doing this whole time.
to sum it up — your friends bet you at girl’s night that you wouldn’t try a royal honey packet. momma didn’t raise a bitch but you may need a little help with the… side effects.
be warned — smut, 18+ MDNI ageless blogs and minors will be blocked!, choking, breath play, cockwarming, p in v, unprotected sex (use a condom guys), squirting, some degradation, creampie (sorry, I literally can't help it. breeding kink go brrr 😵💫) and not proofread cause I simply cannot be arsed
this many words — 5.8k
a word from our author — long time no see! missed you all dearly 🩷 would y’all take a honey packet? I probably would idk idk idkkkkk 🫣 anyway, enjoy!
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑
You should never, under any circumstances, do anything under the influence of alcohol or the influence of your no good best friends.
That’s what you learn on a Friday night in some shoddy bar not far from your apartment in Nueva York.
The music is meh and the atmosphere leaves a little to be desired but the drinks are cheap and that's what you came for. Plus, if you show enough cleavage, the bartenders are heavy-handed with the pours. Your girls are on display in a strapless mini dress that’s so tight it looks painted on and all of your vodka sodas have been extra strong because of it. You can’t complain too much.
You and two girlfriends are sitting in a booth talking about what seems to be the number one thing that comes up when the three of you get drunk: your sex lives.
Jules and Maia start comparing their recent Hinge hookups to see who’s had the worst one night stand. You listen, amused and thankful you have no horror story to add this time.
“He came, rolled off of me, then immediately called his mom after!” Maia taps her finger on the tabletop as she lists the mystery man’s actions. “While I was still lying there!”
“Jules, honey, I think she’s got you beat.” You chime in with a faux frown.
“You know what? Fine by me!” Jules snorts and downs the last sip of her Heineken.
This contest has no real winners.
“Ok enough about our sad love lives,” Maia shakes her head. “What about that sexy scientist you’re dating?”
“Ooh, yes. Let’s talk about hot nerd!” Jules is of course all ears. Hot nerds are exactly her type.
“We’re not dating.” You stress for what feels like the millionth time since this arrangement between you and Miguel began. “We’re just.. hanging out.”
The excuse sounds as lame as it feels to say.
“Oh, do you fuck everyone you hang out with? Because we hangout,” Jules waves a finger between the two of you. “And I don’t fuck you.”
“You know what I mean.” You shove her shoulder. It hardly deters her from grilling you with more questions.
“So you and the scientist—”
“—Geneticist.” You correct. You don’t know why. He’s not here to pat you on the head for it.
“Potato, tomato. You two are seeing each other, exclusively, but you still don’t have a title?” Jules squints at you.
You hate when she puts things the way that they actually are. Though, it never really bothered you before that you couldn’t call him your boyfriend because you were never looking for one.
Casual sex works for you. Casual sex with Miguel works really well.
Now you realize that, in addition to him not being your boyfriend, you can’t even call him a friend either.
You barely know anything about him because he won’t let you in. Hell, you're in a bar telling your friends that you and him “hang out” because you aren’t crass enough to say that he fucks you and sends you home before the sun comes up. You don't even see him in daylight hours.
Jules is waiting for an answer but your heart is lodged in your throat. You just shake your head. No. You don’t have a title. You don’t have any place in his life.
Maia can see that the question has brought your mood down a bit so she tries to give a positive spin. “I mean it’s only been two months…maybe that little nerd just needs a little more convincing.”
There's no way to make Miguel O'Hara do anything he doesn't want to— you know this, but you're still curious.
“Convincing how?”
“Wellllll,” Maia fishes around in her purse until she pulls out what looks like a sauce packet. “I do have this.”
“I don’t really see how ketchup is going to help her, Maia.” Jules deadpans.
“It’s not ketchup! It’s-It’s one of those like, horny.. honey packet thingies. You know, the ones that make you… excited.” She explains with a blush.
The sip of your vodka soda you just took doesn't go down your throat right.
“Excuse me?" You cough. Jules pats your back. She's in just as much shock.
"Why do you have one of these, Maia?”
“Because I’m not a prude and I like to try new things!" She snarks. "Anyway, I think it would be fun for you and for him. Go rock his dorky world and see how he feels about you in the morning!” She tosses the packet at you and you scramble to catch it.
You start down at it in contemplation. You’re certainly no prude either. Especially not after everything you and Miguel have done. Though, it’ll be really embarrassing if it changes nothing and he’s still just as cold to you after.
“Dooo it. Dooo it. Dooo it.” Jules chants. She waves her hand to get Maia to join in and Maia does. They both chant in unison now. “Dooo it. Dooo it. Dooooo it.”
God, they're always so belligerent when they drink.
“I dunno..” You stall.
“We dare you.” Maia says.
“We double—no, triple dog dare you." Jules adds on. "Don't be a scaredy cat!"
You look down at the packet resting on the table again. If nothing changes, well, nothing changes. The worst that can happen is the worst still happening.
“Ok fine, what the hell.” You roll your eyes and rip the corner off the packet. “Sláinte.” You squeeze the whole thing out onto your tongue before you can second guess it.
“WOOOOO!” They both cheer.
You swallow it and chase it with the last of your vodka soda. The aftertaste has a faint tinge of regret, though it’s too late to go back. Your fate has officially been sealed.
“How long until it kicks in?” You almost want to brush the taste off your tongue. You can taste the honey for sure but there's something artificial underneath.
“No clue, girl. I haven’t tried it yet so you’re my little guinea pig.” Maia tweaks your nose. You frown.
“Alcohol might kickstart it sooner.” Jules tips her head at you. “You may wanna head on over to lover boy’s before you wig out in front of everyone at the bar.” She wiggles her fingers in your face with a cackle.
You brush her hand to the side. “Yeah, yeah. I’m booking the Uber.”
The area was crawling with drivers looking to pick up drunk bar patrons in need of a ride home so you had no problem finding one.
You find your chauffeur for the night in Mary. A middle aged lady who you would trust with your life and maybe a pair of knitting needles.
After confirming and paying, you bid your girls a good night and set off in the back of a Toyota Rav4 to Miguel’s apartment.
He has no idea you’re even on your way. If your mind weren’t so foggy from the drinks and the.. stimulant you’d recognize that this is not a good idea. Not even a little bit.
You never stopped to run it by him, though you should’ve because you never do surprise visits. All your meetups in the past have been on his terms. Miguel calls and you come. That’s how it’s always been.
You can’t approach unless he wants you to and doing too much will drive him away completely. He’s like a feral alley cat in that way. He’d certainly warmed up to you a bit. Enough to fuck you senseless at least. That’s why you put up with his standoffish nature.
Miguel is the best you’ve ever had, bar none. Which may also be why you’re not thinking straight.
All you can really think about is his hands all over your body, caressing and groping the way that he does when it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. The hungry way that he kisses you, like he’d devour you whole if he could.
How his wet kisses trail down your body from behind your ear to your throat, your collarbone, your chest, your nipples, the plane of your stomach, your inner thighs and your soaking wet clit.
You can’t wait for him to slide past your lips and fill you up nice and deep until he has nothing left to give and—
Oh. Oh.
It definitely just kicked in. If you couldn’t already tell from the thoughts you were having, the egregious amount of wetness forming between your thighs would be your next clue.
You start to feel increasingly warm all over like someone lit a match inside you. That fire beneath your skin is extra concentrated between your thighs. You hate to admit it but it feels… good. Jules and Maia won’t let you live it down once you give them the full report they’ll be demanding afterward but right now you don’t care.
Your body is a live wire, raw and sensitive to the touch. To every touch. At one point, you nearly choke on your moan after hitting a particularly deep pothole.
Mary apologizes and you sheepishly brush it off, the jolt went straight to your clit and you can barely keep up appearances. It makes you want to cry out when usually you just want to curse your mayor for not getting these things fixed.
Shifting around and crossing your legs doesn’t help. It just makes your nipples press against the fabric of your dress and the rough seatbelt glide across your neck. Two of your most erogenous zones. You have to bite your bottom lip to hold everything in but even that feels good.
God, you’re a mess and no one’s even touched you yet.
Your breaths are shallow and they barely fill your lungs. It makes you lightheaded and dizzy which doesn’t help your situation at all. You didn’t even think about the side effects it could have on you, too caught up in Miguel.
You have to roll the window down a bit to get some air on your face and cool yourself off. Miguel’s place is coming up as you recognize the buildings on this route.
Just keep it together you think to yourself.
You fly out of the car before it can really come to a true, complete stop and mutter a quick thanks to your driver. If she picked up on your behavior, she doesn’t let on and you’re thankful for it.
The walk through the ornate lobby to his building, one of the tallest in the city, is muscle memory at this point. You could walk off the elevator right up to his doorstep blindfolded. By now, even the doorman knows you. You don’t have to tell him who you’re here for and he knows exactly which button to push for you.
You both love and hate that. You take up enough space for Miguel’s doorman to recognize you but that’s just about all the space you take up in his world.
It makes you wonder if you’re the only regular visitor Miguel gets or if there are other women who get off on the twentieth floor and knock on the same door as you.
Before the elevator doors can close all the way, a woman rushes in nearly out of breath. She’s drop dead gorgeous, tall and svelte, like a model. Maybe she is one.
“Glad I caught you guys.” Her laugh is breathless and perfect. Her voice is silky smooth. “Twentieth floor ple—Oh! Nevermind, I see you’ve already got it.” She smiles at Hank, the man working the elevator tonight.
Jealousy distracts you from your aroused state momentarily. She’s new to you. Maybe she just moved into the building or maybe she’s usually out around the time you normally come over. Either way, your shared destination makes you bristle like a cat.
It doesn’t help that she’s suddenly appeared, just after you wondered if anyone else came up to see Miguel besides you, like a bad omen.
Your stomach is in knots when both of you leave the elevator. The scowl forms before you can help it. There’s a real possibility she could be heading to Miguel’s and your visit being a complete surprise doesn’t help your anxiety. It’s not until she tells you goodnight and turns left, instead of toward Miguel’s place, that you let out a breath of relief.
The green eyed monster goes back to her cave.
You hate the comfort you get from seeing her go the other way. It’s superficial at best. There could still be others.
It hardly matters now, you’re still on a mission that culminates at Miguel’s front door. Your knuckles rap against the wood. You hear nothing for a few moments and then there’s the sound of shuffling feet before the door opens to reveal Miguel who can barely fit in the frame.
He’s still in his lab coat, dress slacks and shoes, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He must’ve just come home from work.
Miguel gives you a scrutinizing once over. Your dress feels sluttier now in front of him and you fight the urge to pull it down. You wish you’d checked your makeup and hair in the car ride over because now you’re not sure how put together you look standing before him.
He waits for you to offer an explanation. Forcing your hand without a single word.
“Surprise.” You offer lamely. It’s a surprise alright and judging from the look on his face, not a welcome one. He just blinks but it’s more of what he doesn’t say that has you antsy.
“Did you leave something over here?” Miguel asks gruffly.
“No I just.. I just, um..” You trail off. How can you even begin to explain your situation in a way that isn’t completely embarrassing?
“Just what? I’m a bit busy right now so make it quick.”
God, he sounds so annoyed. You hate it.
Looking up into his eyes seems more daunting than before. You find it hard to meet his gaze and even harder to articulate what it is you came here for. It’s too bad the honey just makes you horny and not bold or courageous.
He grips your chin and tilts your head back so that you have to make eye contact with him. Your pupils are blown wide with lust and you know he can see that. Nothing gets past him.
Miguel tuts and brushes a thumb across your bottom lip. Instinctively, your lips part ever so slightly for your tongue to dart out and wet it.
His voice is softer this time, like you might bolt if he gets too loud. “Missed me, did you?”
You nod. Honesty is the best policy after all.
He dips his head so that his lips are at the shell of your ear.
“I don’t like surprises, chula, you know that.” He reprimands like you should know better when you barely know anything about him. As if you actually have a shared rapport beyond the walls of his bedroom.
You almost laugh at the notion that you know him enough to know him habitually. The things he does and doesn’t do.
You can’t find it in you to argue, though, not when you’re this needy.
“I know.” Your chin tilts down as your gaze hits the floor. He lets you hide.
“I wouldn’t normally do this.. it’s just that I was out with my friends and they dared me to take this honey packet thing that makes you horny and now I am.. so now I’m here. Sorry.”
Your eyes meet his after your candid explanation and they have just the faintest hint of amusement shining through crimson.
“Get in here.”
You don’t need to be told twice. Hell, you barely need to be told once.
The door closes behind you and you’re swept away to his office instead of his bedroom. You’re too blissed out to even notice because his hands are finally on you and even if it’s just your wrist it’s enough to reignite that flame inside you.
You land with a squeal when he sits you on the small arm chair in front of his huge mahogany desk. It takes up almost as much room as he does with his large stature.
You’ve never seen the inside of his home office before. Just his bedroom and the path it takes to get there. It grates.
Miguel slides back into his chair behind the desk, eyes flitting across the screens of three different monitors. He gets right back to work on whatever was so important that it had to come home with him.
You’ve never really understood his profession and he’s certainly never bothered to explain it to you. You watch him work, completely in the zone, completely ignoring you. It goes on for longer than you thought it would, figuring he would take care of something real quick and then take care of you.
“Miguel..” You whine, shifting in your seat which you learned in the car ride over does not help. If you were more sober and clearheaded you would cringe at how desperate you sound.
The sound of keys on his keyboard is the only answer you get.
You don’t get him at all. Is he mad at you?
“I thought—” You begin only to be cut off.
“You thought you could barge in here and call the shots? That I would drop everything the second you show up unannounced?”
You’re afraid to say anything that might make him mad. Still it’s better than those elusive one word answers he usually gives.
The wheels on his chair roll across the hardwood floor as he shifts over to get a look at you. His heated eyes glide over you slowly like magma down the side of a volcano.
“It doesn’t work like that. I told you I was busy so you’ll just have to wait until I’m not.”
“I know, I know.” Your eyes roll and you look away from him in favor of staring at the wall. “You call the shots. Everything’s on your terms. Trust me I get it.”
“Well when you show up unannounced I start to think that maybe you don’t get it.” Miguel’s words come out harsher than they were intended to but you don’t care.
“Bad day at work?” You tilt your head and bat your lashes.
“Something like that.” He replies, more subdued than before. He’ll never admit it but you being here has calmed him down substantially.
The two of you never talk enough to argue so Miguel has no clue that you can volley the attitude right back over the net at him. “Cool. Don’t take it out on me.”
You grab your purse and stand to leave. Clearly this was a mistake. You already know the apology will never come so you decide not to stay where you aren’t wanted.
“Sit down.” Miguel orders without even looking up from the monitor.
You scoff.
“I’m leaving.” Your hand barely touches the handle of his office door before he’s up and at your back, reaching to stop you. In the middle of wondering how he got over to you so fast and so quietly, his mouth is at your ear saying something you never thought you’d hear from him. Please.
It’s so soft you thought you imagined it at first but lightning strikes twice in his office because he asks again.
“Please. Stay.” Miguel’s massive palm grips your middle and cages you against him. Against all of him.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid. I may not be a geneticist or whatever the hell you do that requires you to wear a lab coat but I am not dumb.”
“You’re the furthest thing from it.” He agrees.
You don’t know how to react to that quasi compliment. You don’t really get much from him aside from how wet you are or how good you feel around him.
Your shoulders fall with the decision to stay. He lets go of you only to let you turn and face him. There’s about as much desire in his as there is in yours only he’s not on anything.
“I still have a little work to do but I can take care of you while you wait.”
A plea. A compliment. A compromise. All in the same night.
“Okay.”
“Relax, hermosa. You can take it.” Miguel coaches as you sink down onto his semi hard length. It’s true, you can take it. You certainly have in the past.
You groan when you’ve taken him completely to the hilt, thighs resting atop his with your back to his chest. Your head falls back into the crook of his neck as you try to get your bearings. It’s common practice between the two of you to forgo the condoms, (Miguel prefers it that way and you’re on birth control anyway), but the honey packet has you wishing just this once that there was a barrier keeping you from feeling so much of him.
He slips in easy enough from how wet you are but he carves a path the whole way, molding every part of your body to him in a way that can’t be undone.
Enough time has passed for you to be acclimated to his size and feel, you know Miguel knows this so why hasn’t he started moving yet?
Your eyes flutter open at the sound of his keyboard clacking again. Seriously?
“Guel..” You whine, desperately trying to ride him. The sudden iron grip on your waist halts your movement. He won’t let you fuck him.
“Sit still, I’m working.” If you hadn’t looked back to catch his expression you would’ve missed the sly smirk his tone did nothing to convey.
This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you pictured Miguel taking care of you.
“But..” You pout. “I need you.”
You’re past the point of caring how you sound and too clouded by lust and alcohol to realize he’s typing absolute gibberish just to seem busy.
The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog indeed. And the beautiful woman with the sopping wet pussy will just have to sit here on Miguel’s lap with her too-fucking-mini dress bunched around her perfect hips while he warms his slowly hardening cock in her. He may have conceded earlier but you still needed a punishment for showing up out of the blue like that.
“All soaking wet for me. How’d that happen, hm?” Miguel nips playfully at your neck. Not enough to break your skin but maybe you wish it was.
“The honey packet Maia gave me.” You gasp when two of his fingers come between your legs to rub against your clit with barely any pressure behind them. You could cum just like this you think, if he would just let you move—
His fingers are gone in an instant. The way you clench around him is likely what gave it away that you were nearing the edge.
It’s sweet torture but torture all the same. “I’m gonna kill her.” You mumble under your breath.
“I’m gonna thank her personally.” Miguel huffs out a laugh before licking those same two fingers clean. You’d laugh too if you weren’t so high strung. It’s nice seeing him playful like this.
“Miguel, I can feel you getting hard inside me just fuck me already.” You beg. You even clench and unclench around him a few times to try and push him over the edge. He feels every pulse. He just doesn’t care.
“Cállate. I need to concentrate.” He’s typing real sentences this time not that it matters, all the scientific jargon may as well be Greek to you.
You keep fluttering around him trying to make yourself cum while he works on his report. It barely deters him but it’s starting to work for you, enough that little mewls start spilling from your lips before you can stop them. But being quiet is the least of your worries now not when bliss is so close around the corner. Not when your pussy feels so full of him, completely hard.
Deep in your stomach there’s a warmth beginning to spread, the start of your release like a wave about to crest . Your lips part to release what would’ve been a throaty moan now a surprised cough tumbles out caused by Miguel’s hand wrapped around your throat and squeezing so hard that you can’t breathe.
“Oh, nena, you’re making too much noise now I’ve lost my train of thought.” He tuts. “Guess I’ll just have to start over.”
You want to say something, anything, in protest as he backspaces all his work thus far but his hand still has your throat in a vice grip. You can’t breathe but god can you gush all over him in response. You didn’t even know you liked being choked.
“It’s gonna take me even longer now to finish cause I have to make sure you keep quiet, baby.” Miguel slowly lets go of your neck so you can gulp down some much needed air.
You’re dizzy, all five senses grossly impaired but there’s oxygen rushing to your brain now at least. His hand clamps around your throat once more and he brings you face to face.
“Don’t distract me. I’m typing with one hand now and we don’t want you to pass out before I finish do we?”
You shake your head no and pray he’s secretly a super fast one-handed typist. And the game resumes.
He is typing faster this time and the grip on your throat allows for some air to come through. You suppose you should be thankful but you’re too busy trying not to pass out or explode whichever comes first. The corners of your vision are getting fuzzy and you feel like you’ve stepped outside of your body. Whatever he’s typing must be important.
Something something multiverse theory who cares? Not you.
Your eyelids droop in tandem with the coil in your stomach tightening in pleasure. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip in an effort to keep quiet. You know he would absolutely let you pass out just to teach you a lesson so you try not to rock the boat with too loud moans and whimpers.
It’s only when tears pool in your eyes that relief comes in the form of his gravely voice at your ear saying “Done.”
You’re done too. With a strangled cry you burst from all the pleasure that seemed to build exponentially inside you with every word he typed.
“Just like that pretty girl.” Miguel’s lips are at your throat, your jawline, your collarbone, all over as you gasp. “Yeah you did so good for me you deserve it baby.”
It’s a heady feeling you get from all the air after being so deprived combined with how satisfied you are finally getting your release since the honey entered your system.
But it’s not nearly enough. No. You’re an insatiable beast now. A succubus meticulously crafted for Miguel’s ruin.
“More.” Your voice is hoarse and in your position it’s mistaken for a plea but it’s meant entirely as a command.
But Miguel knows. He’s quick on the uptake and immediately grabs you by your hips and bounces you up and down like you’ve been craving all night.
The only sounds in the room are lewd and loud. Your squelching and moans, his determined grunts, the creak of his computer chair that may need to be replaced after this. You two never need words.
He doesn’t use any to lift you and turn you around in his lap so that you’re finally facing each other as you ride him. He’s wordless when he tugs your dress down far enough for him to suck a nipple into his mouth and grope the other breast in his large hand. And you don’t have to say a word when you place that hand back on your throat to get him to squeeze within an inch of your life.
His eyes meet yours in a silent dare to cum before you faint on top of him.
You taste salty sweat when you lick your lips, smell the musky aroma of your arousal coating the both of you, hear a wet plap, plap, plap, plap keeping time with a set of rough upward thrusts and black is the last thing you see before the dam breaks and sprays all over Miguel’s lap.
When you come to he’s still fucking you through it, chasing his own high. You caught him mid dialogue with no clue of what he’d said before.
“Lightheaded already, mamita?” You can’t form a response and he knows it, the bastard. “That stupid look on your face.. you don’t even care about breathing do you? No you just care about how deep I can get inside you right? Being my little toy?
You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you given your reaction earlier but it makes you so much wetter. Still, You frown. “Don’t talk to me like that.” You slur.
“You don’t like it? Don’t cum around my cock so hard then.”
“Miguel.” You try to warn but it’s feeble.
“You mad at me, baby? Don’t be mad at me beautiful.” He hugs you tight to his front but not for intimacy’s sake, so that your clit has no choice but to grind against his pelvis as you ride him. “I just wanna make this perfect pussy cum over and over and over again.”
“Fuck you.” You bite as your third orgasm of the night creeps up on you. It’s too much to handle but he’s making you handle it and trying to play innocent about it.
“That would be the point, doll.” His chuckle is deep and sexy and it infuriates you to no end that he can even be snarky right now when you’re barely holding it together. “Your face right now mm so fucked out and cock drunk that you can’t even frown at me like you want to.”
“Guel please.. I..” You don’t know whether you’re begging him to let you cum or to not make you cum but you know you can’t take either of those options right now. It’s too much. Everything. And you tell him so.
“I’m just doing what you asked, pretty girl. This is what you wanted right? To get fucked so good like this? That’s why you came to me and not someone else cause I’m the only one that can.”
“Shut up.” You pant, movements getting sloppier and hurried.
“No.” Miguel grins seeing the crazed look in your eye. “I’m not gonna shut up and I’m not gonna stop making you cum either so stop being mad at me and let me make you feel good.”
You decide to stop fighting and that’s when your orgasm crashes into. You clutch his shoulders leaving half moons where your fingernails meet his skin. The rhythm your hips follow is all their own and all you can do is let it happen until the undulations slow. Your head lolls backward cradled by one of Miguel’s hands as his lips meet the base of your throat in a sloppy kiss that turns into a passionate suck with a hickey as a parting gift.
His hot tongue trails up, up, up and stops at your ear. “Good girl.” Miguel purrs and you shiver.
“Still mad?”
“Yes.” You don’t mean it.
“Kiss and make up then.” He holds your chin in place while his tongue explores your mouth. Your head is spinning too much to do anything other than follow his lead. Luckily he’s gentle but no less passionate than before, sucking your tongue, biting your lip, licking the taste of you out of your mouth.
He’s filthy. Miguel only parts to let you breathe and instructs you to bend over his desk. You’re lying on his keyboard but neither of you seem to care. The task of sinking into you much more important to you both.
You can give him one more. You feel like a bottomless pit but at the same time your brain is begging you to tap out, certain you’ve had more than enough.
Miguel is deceptively gentler this time. Maybe he knows you can only take so much more. It’s unnerving. This is how a lover would do it and there is no love to be found between the two of you.
“I needed this.” He admits rocking into you, hitting that spot once again. “Needed you.” He clarifies in a rush. It spills out of him like he’s the drunk one here.
You don’t acknowledge it with anything other than a moan. You know how skittish he is. It’s best to pretend he never said it even if it makes your heart flutter.
Then you remember the whole reason you even took the packet in the first place and think maybe it’s okay if you’re vulnerable too. You can both blame it on the heat of the moment, the drinks or the drugs in your case.
You’ll both have something to regret and maybe that’ll make it okay. And so you speak up.
“Are you mine?” It feels so juvenile insinuating a man like this is a thing to be had. By you no less. But it’s out there and you can’t take it back.
“Who else’s would I be? No one else can put up with me but you.” His pace picks up speed, climax nearing and for the first time tonight he lets it.
“Am I yours?” If it’s even possible you feel more pathetic than before. But you need to know if anything will change tonight.
Miguel falters. Almost imperceptibly. Almost. You don’t know him completely but you’ve known the way he fucks for too long for that to get past you.
To his credit, he recovers quickly. Seconds from falling apart, he leans over you, chest on your back pressing you into his desk and growls in your ear, “You’re the only woman in Nueva York I give a fuck about. That should be enough.”
It isn’t. But you’ll take it.
He wishes he could tell you the truth. But everyone that belongs to him gets taken from him. This is how he keeps you a little longer, he thinks.
Before you know it you cum again, your body had always been so synced with his.
“I’m yours,” He reiterates, the bruising grip on your hips his way of desperately trying to make you understand. To read between the lines and see what he can’t say but wants to so badly.
You moan in defeat, pleasure and pain. Mostly the former. It’ll have to do.
Hot rivulets of his cum paint the walls of your puffy wet cunt and you get the feeling that this is about all the warmth you’ll ever get from him.
Your entire body is spent, you’re so weak that you can’t lift your head from his keyboard. The text in his report trails off from actual scientific findings to just:
Notes: just a ken sato x reader story (will also be published on wattpad@kiwikato) but just some cute moments of the reader taking the role of emi’s mom <3
Warnings: maybe a slow burn? probably going to be fast paced tho because i have to feed u all >:3 but nothing bad at all <3 (maybe 0.o if u all want something) but just enjoy!! :3 grammatical/spelling errors 0-0
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve (?)
SIDEWORKS MASTERLIST !
headcannons of kenji trying to win over his childhood friend
kenji x reader prompts - normal, angst, and nsfw
kenji x singer! reader - no warnings!
kenji x reader headcannons - first couples months dating
A drabble appeared in my head because why the heck not. Ha. Ha. Ha.
Nothing too fancy, just 246 words under the cut. Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader, you know how it goes.
CW: 18+, fingering, overstimulation, not beta read
Have fun~
“Miguel, when can I stop?” You whined out, your fingernails digging into his suit.
“When I'm finished with these reports, nena.” Miguel casually swiped through his device, reading today's work from the other spiders. “Besides, cariño, this is what you wanted.”
For the past fifteen minutes, you were riding Miguel's fingers non-stop. You felt a strong urge in your stomach and didn't want to impose on him, but that pit grew and grew until you couldn't take it anymore. You practically pleaded with him to help out with your problem, that he wouldn't even have to stop what he was doing, and that you could take care of everything.
So now how here you are, your body turned away from him, sitting on his thigh with his index and pointer buried deep in you. Your juices were leaking into the fabric, and your sweat dripped down.
“How much longer?” A gasp escaped when he curled his fingers to get that right spot.
“Hm. I thought I was done, but three more reports came in. Guess you'll have to keep going, nena.” He nonchalantly said and continued to read.
Your walls clung around him when another orgasm found its way out. You started to slow down when Miguel wiggled his fingers and grunted.
“I said three more reports. Keep going.”
You sobbed out as you started back up. This was the best, and worst, request you could've asked for.
"stop fucking biting me!" he groans as you ride his cock, his eyes rolling back into his head as he wraps his thick arms around your waist to fuck up into you.
"s-sorry— jus'feelsh— s'fuckin'good, miguel!—" you whine into his neck, and biting him again.
if you keep biting him he's gonna fucking knock you up, he thinks— he growls into your ear— his mask dissolving down his neck so that he can reciprocate.
he bites you back, fucking hard.
you let out a loud strung out moan, shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm. "fuck! fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! miguel!" you yell out his name, feeling his claws dig into your sides.
"keep cumming. fucking cum all over me. I'll fuck a baby into you. you want that? want me to fuck a baby into you? yeah? wanna give birth to my fucking kid? take it then. fucking take it."
oooo can you write something where miguel meets yn’s family for the first time and your mom or aunt or some family member pulls you to the side and tells you “that man….is gonna get your pregnant.”
PROMISES IN THE DARK | m. o’hara.
when miguel was about to meet your parents, he was calm, composed as always, his hand resting on the small of your back—a touch that was as protective as it was possessive. his eyes, dark and intense, scanned the room, taking in every minuscule detail, from your baby photos plastered on the wall to the little intricate details of wall trim and tablecloths. there was an air of quiet confidence about him, the kind that made your heart race a little faster as you squeeze his hand tightly.
“ready for this?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but miguel could already sense your anxious aura.
his gaze flicked to you, and he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, perhaps usual. “always,” he replied, his voice low and controlled, sending a shiver down your spine. his eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “don’t worry, mi amor. i’ll behave. for now.”
your cheeks flushed at the underlying promise in his words, but before you could respond, your mother appeared, arms open wide in welcome.
the evening unfolded with ease—or so it seemed. miguel was nothing but polite, attentive, and everything your family could have hoped for. but you knew better. beneath his facade of a calm exterior was a storm waiting to be unleashed, a storm adjacent to a tension that crackled between you every time his fingers brushed yours or when his eyes locked onto yours from across the room.
at some point during your little reunion, your aunt pulled you aside, her eyes wide with that all-too-familiar twinkle. she was always so sweet, face as plump as a berry as her reddened lips parted into a smile as she learned to whisper in your ear.
“y’know, y/n, he’s something else,” she murmured, glancing over at your fiancé, who was deep in conversation with your uncle.
“but honey, I gotta tell you—” she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “that man... he’s gonna get you pregnant.”
you immediately choked on your drink, nearly spilling it in the process. “auntie!”
she just grinned, completely unfazed by your surprise. she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and leans into you attentively, “darling, i’m completely serious. you see the way he looks at you? it’s like he’s ready to devour you whole! trust me, it’s only a matter of time.”
your face heated up as you quickly excused yourself, from your spot on the couch, feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed. you walked back to the kitchen where your family was gathered, trying to shake off her words, but they clung to you like a second skin.
miguel’s eyes found yours as you re-entered the room, and his lips curved into that maddeningly subtle smile. he didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could read you better than anyone else could. the way your eyebrows furrowed and the way your body language began to appear more reserved, he knew something had happened while you two were apart.
you took a deep breath and crossed the room to where he was standing, feeling the pull of his presence strongly.
“what did she say to you?” he asked quietly, his voice so low that only you could hear it. his fingers brushed against your waist, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken as you gulped, succumbing to his warm touch.
you bit at your lip, debating whether to tell him, but you knew there was no point in hiding it, so you pushed your nervousness aside and sighed, “she said... that you’re going to get me pregnant.”
miguel’s eyebrows lifted slightly, his expression still stoic, but you caught the flicker of something darker in his eyes. he almost looked like he wanted to laugh. he stepped closer to you, his hand sliding around to rest on the small of your back, pulling you just a fraction closer to him.
“is that so?” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk, but with an edge that made your knees weak.
you swallowed, “i mean…well..she seems pretty convinced.”
miguel’s smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked his teeth, “she’s a smart woman.”
he, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “and she’s right, doll. it’s only a matter of time.”
your breath hitched as his words sank in, ringing throughout your brain as the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression calm, controlled, but his eyes were dark with intent, filled with promises you weren’t sure you were ready to unravel in a house full of family.
but there was no mistaking the message he had spoken to you, because when miguel made a promise, he kept it. and judging by the way his hand tightened slightly on your waist, his thumb brushing just below the curve of your ribcage, that promise was as good as kept.
summary: you and kenji work out the details of your "marriage"
wc: 2.2k
an: this is part 4! sorry it took so long! my best friend is actually living the accidental pregnancy trope and now college is starting. been a little hectic
navi | prev | series mlist
---------
At approximately noon, you were standing in front of Ami’s front door, knocking on the wood with sweaty hands. As you were waiting for Ami to let you in, your thoughts were running wild with what this little get-together was meant to accomplish. You wanted Kenji to know for certain it wasn’t Ami that had told the press. You never got back to him about your conversation with her and how she adamantly insisted that she wasn’t the one who had spilled. And what could Kenji possibly want to tell you? What did he mean by “it will require some acting on our part”?
While you were still pondering all these things, the door swung open without warning. You snapped out of your thoughts, ready to greet your friend, only to be met with a clear view of the entrance—no Ami in sight.
“Hi, Aunt Yn!” was all you heard before you felt a death grip around your legs and the giggles of a little girl filling the air. A bright smile spread across your face at the sight of your favorite six-year-old.
“Chiho!” You exclaimed, bending down to hug her back as best you could given the considerable height difference.
She pulled away from you to grab your hand and lead you into the living room. “Momma, Aunt Yn is here!” She called out. You could hear the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen, presumably Ami. “Come on come on come!” Chiho goaded, pulling harder at your hand to encourage you to move faster.
“Chiho!” You heard from behind you. The two of you stopped and turned to see Ami standing in the kitchen doorway, a hand on her hip. “What have I told you about answering the door?” She scolded.
“It's just Aunt Yn,” Chiho whined.
Ami sighed exasperatedly. “But what if it wasn’t? It’s dangerous for you to answer the door without knowing who’s there.”
Chiho’s only response was a small “hmph”, her bottom lip jutting out as she crossed her arms petulantly.
Ami shook her head at the little girl’s dramatics before turning her attention to you. “Lunch will be ready in a bit. My mom’s in the living room and if Chiho isn’t too busy pouting I think she has something to show you.” There was a teasing lilt to her voice as she mentioned Chiho’s surprise. Said Chiho only huffed. You saw what Ami was attempting to do and played along.
“I guess I'll help out with lunch since Chiho doesn’t want to show me anymore,” you mused, starting to follow Ami to the kitchen, but a small hand grasping onto yours stopped you from going any farther.
“No!” She cried. “I still wanna show you!”
“Apologize to your mom first and then you can show me whatever you want, ok?”
Chiho immediately did as asked, running back out of the kitchen almost as soon as she had run in, clearly eager to share whatever it was she was so excited about. As you were following the young girl to the living room, you felt a buzz in your pocket. You pulled out your phone to see a text from Kenji.
Kenji: i should have asked this earlier but what's ami’s address?
You scoffed lightly before quickly typing out the address for him. As soon as it was sent, you put your phone back in your pocket and returned all of your attention to Chiho. The first thing you noticed when you walked into the living room was that it looked like a hurricane had gone through it, courtesy of Chiho, no doubt. The second thing you noticed was that the hurricane debris was primarily composed of countless drawings. Most were of Ultraman, but you spotted a few kaiju as well.
“Well, hello! Ami said you would be over today,” greeted Ms. Wakita from her seat on the couch. You grinned at the old woman, a small laugh bubbling from your lips. “Yes ma’am, and there's one more person coming. He just asked for the address a few minutes ago though, so he'll likely be a bit late.”
She shook her head, mumbling something about today’s youth.
You noticed that she had a basket of yarn at her feet, and you gestured to it, asking if she was crafting something. “I am, but it’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait until it’s finished to find out what it is.”
You frowned a bit, having always enjoyed sharing your old-woman-like hobbies with her. Whether it was crocheting or cross-stitching, she always had excellent tips for you, so you were slightly disappointed that she wouldn’t tell you what she was making this time.
You were about to speak again when a box of crayons was being shoved at you from below. “Draw with me!” Chiho demanded. You took the crayons from her and sat criss-cross at the coffee table next to her. She pushed a piece of blank paper towards you. “What should we draw?” She asked.
You hummed. “What about Neronga?”
Chihi shook her head. “Already drew him.”
“Gigantron?”
“Nope. Her too.”
You wracked your brain, conveniently forgetting the name of every kaiju that had ever terrorized the city. “Oh! What about Bemular?”
Her eyes brightened at the idea as she accepted your suggestion with an enthusiastic yes. You chuckled as you pulled up a picture on your phone, and you and Chiho set to work, the sound of Ms. Wakita counting her stitches and the delicious smells wafting in from the kitchen fading into the background as you focused on drawing the kaiju.
You were just finishing the outline when there was a knock on the door. From the corner of your eye, you could see Chiho ready to stand, but a contemplative look crossed her features and she settled back into her seated position shortly after. You had to suppress a laugh, knowing she had remembered her scolding from earlier.
You could hear the door being opened as Ami greeted Ken, who had finally arrived. She led him into the living room, and he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch where Ms. Wakita was sitting. Chiho looked at him curiously before recognition set in. “You're that guy from the restaurant!” She exclaimed, her finger pointed at him in an accusatory manner.
Ken chuckled, “Ah, you remember me. You’re Chiho, right?”
She hummed before deciding that her unfinished drawing was more important than Kenji and returning her attention to the piece of paper in front of her.
“Hey, Kenji,” You greeted warmly, briefly glancing away from your own drawing to see he was already looking at you.
“Hey, Yn,” he replied. He jerked his chin towards you, asking, “What are you drawing?”
“Kaiju,” you replied simply, focus already diverted from him in favor of your Bemular sketch.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he tried to get a better look.
He hummed as he took in the sight of the rough sketch you had on your paper. Looking to Chiho, he asked, “Can I draw too?”
Chiho nodded, dropping her crayon onto the coffee table as she reached for another sheet of paper and slid it over to him. “We can share the crayons. Just don’t color too hard or they’ll break.”
Kenji laughed, “Thank you, Chiho. I promise I won't break them.”
“Good,” she responded definitively with a curt nod.
As you were coloring, Kenji decided to broach the subject of his manager’s suggestion, hoping against hope that you were open to the idea given that he had basically already agreed for you. “So, Yn,” he started nervously, swallowing thickly when you fixed your gaze on him. “Like I texted you, I was talking to my manager earlier and he came up with a plan. I agreed without asking you and I'm so sorry for that, but please keep an open mind?”
The serious tone in his voice reached Ms. Wakita’s ears, and she set her crochet down on the couch. “Chiho, dear, why don’t we go play in your room and let Aunt Yn talk to her friend?”
Chiho looked doubtful at first, wanting to stay and color, but did as her grandma asked anyway. As the two were walking out, Ms. Wakita gave you a sly wink. You were certain that Ami had already filled her in on the situation, and you were grateful that she had proactively given you and Kenji privacy for what would surely be a sensitive conversation.
It was only when they were safely out of earshot that you spoke up. “So, what’s the plan? And why does it require ‘acting on our part’?”
Kenji hesitated for a moment, contemplating his words. “He proposed that we tell the public that we’re married. A baby from a one night stand is considered a scandal, but to a married couple it’s a blessing.”
You blanched at his words, disbelief flooding through you. “Why would you agree to that? Look, you’re very kind and all, but we don’t know each other well enough to pull off being married. Plus, you have so many girls that would love to be your wife, which means they’re all going to hate me, and—”
“Woah, woah, hey, slow down. You are the mother of my future child. Not them. Ok? No matter what they say, you are part of my life now.”
You practically melted at his sweet words, which admittedly did help ease your mind. If he didn't care what his fans thought, then why should you?
Before you were able to reply, Ami popped in from the kitchen to tell you that lunch was ready. Thirty minutes later, after everyone had eaten and Chiho had excitedly shown everyone her now-completed Kaiju drawing, it was just you, Ken, and Ami in the living room.
“Ok, so just to make sure I have this right: Ken, your PR manager is putting out word that you and Yn are married? And, Yn, you’re okay with this? Because I haven’t gotten any word about it which means it hasn’t been released yet, so it’s not too late to think of something else.”
“No, I think it’s the best way to ensure the least amount of damage to his reputation. But,” you said pointedly, redirecting your attention to Kenji, “we need to come up with a story. Like, where and how we met, how long we’ve been together—stuff like that.”
Kenji nodded in agreement, as did Ami. The three of you deliberated with each other, your fake relationship with Kenji slowly but surely becoming a full-fledged story. By the end of it, you felt like you would both be prepared to answer any questions about your dating history and marriage.
“How long have you been together?” Quizzed Ami.
“3 years, but we only got married this year.”
“When is your anniversary?”
“June 26th.”
“How did you two meet?”
“We first met when Kenji was still a Dodgers player in LA. He bumped into me on the street and caused me to spill my coffee on myself. So he took me out for coffee to make up for it, and the rest is history.”
Ami continued to quiz the both of you until there was no doubt that you and Kenji had the story memorized. Any inconsistencies would ruin the whole plot. Ami was still fake interrogating you both when Kenji was distracted by the buzzing of his phone. He flipped the device over to see a message from Muramatsu, opening the message to be greeted by an article link. “Well, that was fast,” he mumbled under his breath. You and Ami looked at him curiously, and he turned his phone so that you could see the article which stated in no uncertain terms that Kenji was a married man.
“Ah,” was all that you were able to muster. There was officially no going back.
-❀-
Later that night, when Kenji was home and thought he would finally get a reprieve from all the phone calls, he received yet another one. He groaned, considering ignoring the call, but a glance at the caller ID revealed that it was his dad calling. He didn't usually call at such a late hour, which immediately spiked concern in Kenji. He accepted the call and was instantly met with a barrage of questions.
“What are all these rumors that you’re married?
“Are you really having a baby?
“How could you have gotten married in secret and not at least invited your father?
“I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend.”
Kenji couldn't believe he had forgotten to update his father on all the recent drama surrounding him. After thoroughly explaining the situation in excruciating detail, Professor Sato was satisfied and insisted that Kenji introduce his pretend daughter-in-law as soon as possible. After all—as he had stated—she would be the woman to make him a grandfather.
You were his first everything. Kenji knew the moment he returned to Japan and bumped into you again, that you’d be the one.
The one to have his heart wrapped around your fingers.
The one to take his virginity.
He still remembered the bliss he felt when you sucked him off and he experienced his first orgasm. He could still recall the moment his focus narrowed and his whole body was in a trance, completely in control by the intense pleasure your mouth was giving him.
It was the best thing he had experienced, even better because it was with you.
But the first time he witnessed you reaching your own peak, he was completely enamoured. And he would do anything in his power to pull orgasm after orgasm from you, just to see you fall apart under his touch.
“Kenji…it’s too much. I can’t—” you whimpered. Your voice was hoarse and your legs were shaking.
You were laid out on the bed underneath him, a film of sweat on your forehead. You were spent and still drowning in the afterglow from your previous climax.
Kenji fingers dipped his into your core, feeling your dripping wetness over them. He kept moving them in and out relentlessly, trying to get you to reach your peak again.
“Come on, baby.” he coaxed, still moving his fingers. “You can give me one more,”
You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer back, let alone form a coherent sentence. The wetness from your core made lewd noises which seemed to fill his senses.
Your back arched and your legs jerked instinctively as he curled his fingers inside of you, but he quickly put one of your thighs in place so you wouldn’t move.
He couldn’t help but grin at the sight of you, your lips parted as more moans slipped out of your mouth and your body squirming under his touch.
He leaned in and kissed below your earlobe while his fingers continued at their sporadic pace. “You’re close aren’t you?”
He used his thumb to press onto your swollen clit that had been overstimulated in the last few minutes. Your thighs started to quiver and he could tell from previous experiences that you were going to reach your peak again.
He could feel the familiar contraction around his fingers from your silky walls, just as they always did. Just for him.
He kept his gaze on you, not wanting to miss a second of what was about to unfold. The same sight that he had quickly grown addicted to the first time he witnessed the vulnerable side of you.
Your eyes squeezed shut and your face flushed, allowing yourself to get washed into the height of pleasure for the umpteenth time of the night.
He watched as a look of ecstasy casted on your face before your release hit— your mouth fell open as you moaned out his name, the only fragment your mind could grasp.
He slowed the pace of his fingers through your release. Eventually, he pulled his fingers out; they glistened under the light with your spend.
He wasted no time to bring them into his mouth and taste his handy work on his tongue. He looked back at you as you slowly recovered from your high.
He gave your forehead a quick peck before he moved down to reach your core with his mouth. You looked down at him, your eyes widened as you realised that he wasn’t done with you.
You shouldn’t be surprised by now though.
Another terrible attempt at pnp bc that’s what people like to eat up more or whatever.
Please Kenji Sato x American shy!reader? They’re dating and Kenji is jealous that shy!reader attention is towards emi and not him while his dad thinks it’s pretty funny
thank you smm ❤️ here you gooo. i apologize for the delay. (had a minor writer's block)
Jealous Brat
kenji sato x shy!reader
warning: none, being parents, fluff, [not proofread!!]
summary: kenji is feeling jealous because he wants more of your time and attention.
masterlist !
the doors of the elevator opened and both kenji and emi turned toward it. the baseball field stadium simulation dissolving into thin air.
you stepped into the room, beaming at the two.
"there's my girl!" kenji grinned at you, his tone prideful as he held his arms wide for you. the baseball bat dropping to the floor with a clatter.
emi squealed in excitement, waddling hurriedly towards you that she overtook kenji and plopped down on the floor excitedly.
you approached her meekly, caressing her arm up and down, "hi baby,"
kenji frowned. those words would be mostly directed to him in greeting. not emi, not anyone. only him.
initially you were weary of the gigantrom baby, frightened to stay within a one mile radius in her presence.
but with a little coaxing from kenji, you warmed up to emi and eneded uo spending most of your time with her.
this bothered kenji, not only because all your focus was on emi, but because he didn't get any time with you when he needed it the most.
he woke up to an empty bed, sijce you were up and about to help professor sato in taking care of emi. he ate breakfast alone because you would leave early for your work, giving him a quick goodbye kiss. he would return from practice, wanting to curl in your warm embrace.
but he would find you babying emi, cooing and mumbling praises while making her perform combat drills.
kenji would pout. he wouldn't mind being coddled by you. he wouldn't mind being praised by you. in more than one way
this was one such evening where kenji had returned from practice and wanted to take a shower. he even tried to get you to join him.
"c'mon, baby," kenji whined, coming up behind you and hugging you from the back, resting his chin on your shoulder, "i want you close to me," he was still in his baseball jersey and tracks, reeking of musk and sweat.
you sighed, "kenji, i gotta run these analysis on emi. she's shown such drastic improvement-"
the rest of your words where drowned in his frustrated groan, making you raise your brows in surpirse.
"you've been so caught up with emi all the time. i got you first, right? so doesn't that mean i'm your first priority? all things concerned?"
you understood the unspoken message behind his words. you turned within his arms, smiling in a taunting manner.
"kenji sato, are you jealous of emi?"
he let out a delirious noise at the back of his throat, "what? no!" he scoffed, "why would i be jealous of a kaiju. i'm not that pathetic," he mumbled the last part quietly.
"seems like it to me," you stated, holding the side of his face.
kenji huffed, pressing his lips together in annoyance and his brows scrunched.
"that look! oh my god, you are jealous!" you huffed an incredulous laugh, cooing softly to tease him.
"i-well. damn right, i am," kenji muttered into the palm of your hand that was holding your face, kissing it.
"she's a harmless kaiju baby," you continued to laugh at his pout, pressing a quick peck against it, "hardly a threat. could you be any more petty?"
kenji fiddled with the hem of your shirt, letting his bangs fall over his face, "she is a threat to me if she hogs you to herself and doesn't lemme spend time with you. you barely spend time with me ever since she happened," he spoke bitterly.
"ah-ah," you raised a finger, "watch that tone of yours, mister,"
kenji took your pointing hand in his, pressing a smooch to the back of it, "yes ma'am,"
you had to purse your lips to hold back the giddy smile his words brought to your face.
"it's just-" kenji sighed, "you've barely kissed me properly. and i feel like- i know it sounds stupid," he agreed, "-it feels like I'm losing you to a kaiju of everything in the world. like c'mon,"
"kenji," you held his face with both hands, "I'm sorry i made you feel this way, my love. i didn't realize,"
now, thinking back, you realized your boyfriend was right. you were barely by his side, let alone spend any time with him.
kenji breathed softly when you addressed him as your love, nuzzling his cheeks into your warm palms.
you pressed a slobbery kiss against his mouth, earning a pathetic whine from him as he melted against you. both of your lips moved in tandem, kenji's large palms slithering into your shirt and finding their place in the dips of your waist, thumbs circling.
you pulled back, lips an inch away from his and your forhead against his, "m'sorry, babe. truly. i didn't realize it until you pointed out,"
"s'okay," kenji muttered, not quite meeting your eyes, "i just missed you, s'all,"
you squished his cheeks with one hand, making his pink plump lips smoosh together. you pressed a final wet, loud smack to his mouth with a dramatic 'mwah' and used your thumb to trace the curve of his bottom lip.
kenji gazed at you with heart eyes, his cheeks gaining an adorable rose hue.
the tint of your lips balm was smeared across his mouth; a mark of yours on him.
he let out a flustered groan and buried his face in your neck, your scent filling his senses and soothing his mental frenzy.
you rolled your eyes, unable to hold back a smile, "you're such a brat sometimes, you know that?" you pressed a crooked kiss to the raven locks at the base of his neck.
he smirked against your skin, his usual confident expression returning.
"only a brat for you, baby," he murmured, his tongue tracing a line down your throat.
you fisted his hair, tugging him back to look at him in his eyes.
kenji gazed at you through hooded eyes, lips parting as he exhaled, the corners of it curving into an ardent smile.
"sorry to interrupt," mina's voice echoed as she entered the room with professor sato at her tail, "but emi has been refusing to go to bed and has been up for a while. perhaps kenji, y/n could-"
"not today, mina!" kenji retorted, hugging you to his body protectively, one of his palms cradling the back of your head.
"c'mon, dad," he turned to his father, whining childishly, "you can take over babysitting duties today, can't you?!"
"you never grow up, do you?" professor sato rolled his eyes at his son's antics with a chuckle, walking away as mina led the way for him.
kenji was quick to dip and wrap an arm around your legs, tossing your body over his shoulder with ease.
"kenji! atleast, let me go have a peek at her and make sure she's okay, for god's sake!" you gasped, wriggling, "put me down!"
"when i have such a great view? i don't think so. and I'm not gonna lose you to anyone. not even to a kaiju baby!"
a/n: 2k words of one of my late night thoughts turned into a fluffy, exes to lovers fic. exes au, vet!y/n x kenji sato from ultraman: rising.
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“kenji?”
“y/n?”
you hadn’t expected to run into him here, and it seemed that he hadn’t either, from the way he was dressed. contrary to how you usually saw him on t.v. during his interviews, he was in shambles. kenji sato was dressed in a sweatset, stained with what smelled like...fish juice?...down the front. his eyes were dim, yet panicked—perhaps at seeing you, but you weren’t sure. was his hair...wet? what the fuck?
it had been more than eight years since you’d last seen him—at highschool graduation, when you’d moved to sydney for university, and he’d disappeared to the states. not that kenji sato could disappear, with how often you saw him on your t.v. screen.
“what...what are you doing here?” he stuttered, furrowing his annoyingly perfect brows. he looked exactly as you remembered, save for his current, unorganised state. just...older. better.
“well, i just got off work,” you said equally as awkwardly, gesturing at your scrubs, “um...just, heading home now.”
truth be told, this was an insanely random place to have run into him. ten minutes from your apartment block, with no shopping districts around or really any reason for him to be here at all. all that there was in your district was a river, which was nearby—so close you could still hear it from here.
“you walk?” he said incredulously, eyes fixated on your badge—dr. y/n, head veterinarian.
“uh, yeah,” you said, shifting a bit under his sharp gaze as his dark eyes shifted to meet yours. the same way he’d looked at you, all those years ago, that day. sad, but hopeful.
ken, we should...i mean, i think we should break up.
the words were as clear in your memory as day, and you forced yourself to swallow and block out those intruding thoughts.
“let me drive you,” he said quietly, after a beat, and as you opened your mouth to protest that you only lived ten minutes away, he said, “please.”
“kenji, you look really tired,” you said hesitantly, “you should head home and rest.”
“trust me,” he said with a sigh, “there’s no rest to be found in my home right now.”
you wondered what that meant. but he didn’t give you any time before he abruptly gestured down the street and wordlessly began walking you towards his car.
if you’d asked yourself twenty minutes ago, you wouldn’t have believed that you would be sitting in your highschool boyfriend’s 300-thousand-dollar porsche. and yet, here you were, buckled into the passenger seat, feeling more awkward than ever as you typed your address into his phone.
“i thought you were in sydney, to be honest,” he said, finally breaking the silence as he started the car, sweeping his hair back with his other hand.
“i moved back a year ago,” you explained as you propped his phone up on the stand he had for it, pressing start on the google maps directions, “worked in sydney for three years after grad, then got a job offer to be promoted to head vet back here in japan. couldn’t pass it up. besides, my mum’s here and i wanted to be with her.”
“you don’t live with her, though?” he said. of course, he’d noticed that your address had changed. he had spent more hours at your house than he’d probably spent at school in all six years of secondary school combined.
“yeah, i wanted my own place,” you said with a soft laugh, “i’ve got a few pets. they would drive her mad, with how loud they are.”
kenji huffed, “kids can be so damn loud.”
that caught you off guard, and you turned to him, shocked, and if not a little embarrassed. of course, kenji already had kids! he was a young, extremely wealthy man who of course would’ve married by now. you’d done well for yourself, but you knew you couldn’t compare to kenji sato.
“kids?” you couldn’t help yourself, the sharp question slipping out before you could process and revealing your surprise.
“uh—it’s complicated,” he said quickly, “wait, that sounds wrong—not that it’s complicated, just—well, she’s not really my kid—,”
“so you’re a stepdad,” you asked, confused.
“not really,” he replied, one hand running through his hair again, messing it up more, “she’s my pet, i guess. pet...lizard.”
your eyes lit up, “oh my god, i love lizards. i wish i could have one, too—maybe a gecko? but i have too many cats right now.”
“i wish i had a cat, instead,” kenji rolled his eyes, “she’s so whiney.” but there was affection tucked in his voice, and you picked up on it even without having to see his half-smile in the mirror.
“i’ll have to visit, then, to see your lizard.”
“and you, your cats,” he shot back as he parked by the curb, “you weren’t lying when you said you lived close by.”
you laughed, “why would i lie?”
he shrugged in response.
“get back safe,” you said, as you stepped out and reached to shut the door, “thank you for the ride. it was really nice to catch up.”
“yeah—well, you too,” he said, biting his lip as he seemed like he wanted to ask something else—you knew that look on his face better than anyone.
“what? spit it out,” you said jokingly, narrowing your eyes.
“oh...” he chuckled nervously, “um, can i have your number? yknow, your new one.”
you were caught off guard by him, yet again. “sure. it’s the same as it was. has yours changed?”
“yeah, actually...gotta change mine a lot, these days,” he looked really embarrassed by that, “what with the baseball stuff. i’ll call you. we need to catch up properly.”
i missed you. his eyes seemed to say, and something in your stomach fluttered at his earnest expression.
“we do,” you replied, before shutting the door, “see you, kenji.”
he waited until you’d headed upstairs before he drove off.
***
incoming call...unknown caller id.
“what the...?” you rubbed your eyes as your vibrating phone woke you up from your afternoon nap. you’d taken a fond liking to naps these days, after taking on so many emergency late night shifts at the clinic.
groggily, you picked up the phone and immediately was met with the sound of heavy breathing, which creeped you out, truth be told, and just as you were reaching to hang up on the creep, a familiar voice rasped out, “y/n, help me.”
“what the fuck? kenji?” you shot upright, panicked at his desperate tone, “what’s wrong?”
“are you free, right...now?”
“uh, well—i guess? i just got back from work, so...”
“sorry,” he said quickly, “to bother you. i’m just having trouble with my...lizard...and i didn’t know who else to ask. i can pay you—as much as you want—or—,”
“no, kenji, it’s fine,” you cut him off smoothly, “don’t be ridiculous. where are you? i did say i wanted to meet your lizard, anyway.”
***
you should’ve expected that kenji sato would live in a district as boujee as this. the buildings seemed to rise higher than your eyes could see, going all the way up into the clouds that shrouded the twilight sky. the cars here were all black and silver, with tinted, dark windows. it felt like a different world to your neighbourhood, and yours was already the nicer of the bunch.
“kenji, i think i’m here, but i don’t know how to get up,” you said into your phone, confused by all the security mechanisms and fancy technology that surrounded the large glass door before you. plus, your hands were pretty occupied—your phone squished between your cheek and shoulder, one hand holding your first aid kit—reptile-specialised—and the other your coat and bag of other equipment that you felt like you might need, if his lizard was in such bad condition that he’d called you up out of nowhere.
“give me a sec, i’m coming.”
as promised, the very man appeared moments later, looking just slightly more put together than the last time you’d seen him. at least this time, his hair was dry.
“thanks for coming,” he said hastily as he let you in, leading you to the set of elevators that awaited you, “i...i didn’t know who else to call. i really don’t know that many people here i’d want to talk to, and i’ve been really lonely lately, it’s kinda...sorry, i’m ranting, but i’m going through it and...anyway, i’m glad to see you.”
you found his ranting kind of endearing. you knew it was something he only did when he was really nervous—just like he’d always done, even when you two were just kids—and it made you feel young again, talking to him. like you were talking to your very first crush.
well, you supposed in a way, you were.
in the elevator, he was largely silent, although you could sense his stress—as if he had something to tell you but was too scared, his leg bouncing and fidgeting nonstop with the bottom of his shirt.
finally, as he went to swing open his apartment door opened, he blurted out, “don’t freak out.”
when you looked inside, you understood why.
and it was too late, because you were already freaking out. you dropped all your supplies in your shock, eyes widening and feet stumbling backwards.
“kenji, what—what is that—,”
there was a gigantic lizard before you. a gigantic one, and when you said gigantic, you meant it. it was at least...ten times bigger than you, and you’d never seen anything like that, before.
“um...emi...she’s a kaiju,” he said sheepishly, wringing his hands.
“what the—,”
“a baby!” he said quickly, “and i raised her, so she’s just a little cutie. but...you know, she’s growing up and i think she’s going through puberty or something. i don’t know! she’s just really struggling emotionally these days and i can’t figure it out. i’m her dad and i can’t figure it out and i’m not home often enough to look after her twenty-four-seven. please give me a chance. i’ll pay you—i’ll do whatever.”
“uh, kenji,” you said cautiously, leaning down to pick your stuff up, “you know that i know nothing about kaiju, right?” he leant down beside you to help you, cheeks tinted pink.
“it’s okay, can you try?”
“i can try, i guess,” you said dubiously, but you had to admit that you were at least curious. you’d never been this close to a kaiju before, and if anything, they were still animals of some sort. you wanted to see. you wanted to learn.
you didn’t really hear kenji’s blurted out thanks as you carefully crept closer to the sleeping pink creature, knocked out completely, curled up on her side. pulling out a stethoscope, you started to gently listen to her heartbeat from her wrist—the closest part of her you felt safe enough to touch, and she stirred, but didn’t wake.
it sounded normal—you guessed. for a creature as big as her, you supposed her heart rate would be really slow. especially when sleeping.
you did all your checks without her really waking, and that was ideal—you’d prefer she didn’t. as much as kenji reassured you that she was harmless, you were dubious that a creature this big wouldn’t hurt you.
“kenji,” you said, after you were done, unpacking some of your medications, “she’s growing up. she’s hitting prepubescence, you’re right. but also, she’s sick.”
“w-what do you mean? she’s—,”
“she has a cold,” you explained, and his panic deflated slightly as you gave him the largest bottle you had in your supplies, “you can give these to her. this’ll only last her today, so you’ll have to buy a shit ton of this medication, but i’ll give you a prescription and the phone of my supplier so you can get it fast. she should be okay in a week or so. but then again, she’s a kaiju, so it may take longer, depending.”
when you looked up, kenji was looking at you deeply, so earnestly and so gratefully, the bottle of pills set on the kitchen bench beside the two of you. you were closer to him than you’d been for years—even closer than that day on the car. suddenly, you were hyper aware of the way you swallowed as you met his gaze, your heart rate quickening.
“thank you, y/n,” he said quietly, “i...” he didn’t come closer, but he glanced down at his own hands before looking back up, “i really missed you, you know.”
“i missed you too, kenji,” you breathed, in disbelief a bit at the way you felt—just like you used to feel whenever he looked at you. you hoped he couldn’t hear how quick and heavily your heart was pounding ink your chest.
he broke out into a warm smile, “i’m really glad i ran into you, that night.”
***
incoming call...kenji sato.
you couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face as you reached for your buzzing phone.
Summary: Just a list of fluffy and filthy headcanons <3
Super, incredibly bratty like omfg 💀
Won't hesitate to tease you in public (bonus points if paparazzi's there lol)
Loves to see you get flustered, thinks it's the 2nd cutest thing in the world next to Emi ofc
Uses "And what about it?", "What're you gonna do if I don't?" and "Make me." on the regular bc he knows you can't 😭
Absolutely adores when you spend time with Emi and him, makes him get all melty and dad like
Refers to you as Mama both in and out of Emi's presence, knows it makes you flustered and loves it
"Look, Emi! Mama's here!!", "C'mon, Mama, don't be like that~"
Other petnames for you: Baby, Babe, Sweet Thing, Honey
Told you he was Ultraman on like the 3rd/4th date bc he wanted no secrets between the two of you
This man was locked in from the start-
Valentines' day? Bro bought you heaps of designer clothes/jewelry
HAD TO TALK HIM DOWN FROM GIVING YOU ONE OF HIS SPORTS CARS
He loves so deeply but can be very shy about some things like opening up and being vulnerable
Once Emi got used to you, he bought you slippers, toiletries, etc. for his house immediately
Wants you around all the time, thinks everything about you is so cute and perfect and omg-
Loves back hugs, giving and receiving
Gets jealous easily and is very pouty when he is
It's literally the cutest thing omg
Did I mention he loves back hugs? He really loves back hugs-
NECK KISSES NECK KISSES NECK KISSES
His neck is incredibly sensitive so neck kisses are a guaranteed ticket to pound town-
Very handsy, very VERY sneaky
Waist grabbing? Yup. Will he hide his hands after smacking your ass as if it wasn't him when it's literally just the two of you in the room? Also yes.
Isn't a boob man: confirmed
His hands are huge and he knows how to use them-
First time you hook up you think he invented fingering bc damn
Skilled when it comes to making you cum multiple times
KEN SATO IS A PLEASURE DOM AND THAT'S THAT!
Loves it when you whimper and beg, thinks it's so adorable
Coaches you through it, praises praises praises praises praises-
"Shh shh, it's okay, I've got you.", "Just a little bit more- there we go just like that.", "I know it feels good but you gotta stay still for me, Mama.", "Ah ah ah, I know you can give me one more."
Keeps his hedge trimmed iykwim
Is gifted and very cocky about it (no pun intended... ok maybe a little)
He's a good 7-9 in. at minimum, very veiny, above average girth
Finds your spot as soon as he's in and uses it until you can't breathe or think properly
Vocal. Ken Sato is very vocal.
Moans, groans, grunts, sighs, hissing, panting- the list goes on
Adores when you're vocal too, has a thing about hearing how good he's making you feel, likes seeing it in the form of tears
Back scratching enthusiast, makes sure you've got a fresh set specifically so he can see the damage they cause in the morning
Please pull his hair, makes him all weak inside
Prefers longer, deeper strokes bc intimacy but won't hesitate fuck like a madman
Refuses to cum anywhere but inside you, he's a family man what can I say 🤷🏿♀️
Overall rating: 10000000000000/10, will definitely hit again bc his libido is absolute insanity
Ken Sato is perfect husband and father material; with that I rest my case.
