I love the way you write 👉🏻👈🏻 May I request some more Franco from you? Perhaps with a reader who is fascinated by him and follows him around only to panic when he spots her! (Totally not based on my behaviour ingame) Thank you! 🩷
Yes ofc 🫶 Sorry for the late reply. I’d kept making drafts for this ask and every-time I thought I was finished my brain was all like, ‘… yeah, that’s great. But what if we re-wrote it again? 🥴’
Anywho, hope you enjoy :P
.*✩Franco il Bambino Barbi/Reader ✩*.
Surviving in the Sinyala facility was no small feat, some took to their new living conditions more easily than others— like fish to water. You were not among those lucky few. If you were to continue the trend of using comparisons, you’d suppose you’re more akin to that of a sad little sardine. Flopping about awkwardly on the docks, waiting for somebody to grant you pity and mercifully nudge you back into the water.
Whereas others would brazenly leap into the fray, stun-rig ready at hand; you would creep around the perimeter of the trial-grounds. Scavenging and scouting, giving call-outs when able to. Never had you been a confrontational person, and if your teammates wanted to take a more combative stance, who were you to get in the way of that? You’d still support them, of course. Safely. From a distance.
It was during another such occasion, when you’d been helping chuck hearts at the Futterman targets. It wasn’t morbid once you got used to it, and as long as you didn’t think too long about the squishy organ in your hand— well. It was almost enough to not question where the hell a seemingly infinite amount of vital organs were coming from. Almost.
Creeping through the gloom of the faux diner to re-arm yourself with more hearts, you quickly scrambled under one of the booths with bated breath as the diner’s bell jingles cheerfully. Something, or someone, has followed you inside.
Through infrared goggles, you watch, transfixed, as the newest prime-asset, ex-mafiaso, Franco Barbi, stalks forward.
It was silly to admit even in the sanctity of your own mind, but you’ve always been a fan of those detective novellas. More specifically, their frightfully charismatic antagonists. You swore up and down, it was sheer happenstance that Franco unknowingly managed to check all of your boxes— and not the man himself.
You don’t think he can see you, at least you’d hoped so. The man’s eyesight is poor, and even poorer in the dark. You’ve used this against him more times than you could possibly count— and it was admittedly a little funny to watch the mobster huff and pout with you just a mere few feet away. One could even say he was almost… endearing like that.
Despite walking mostly blind, Franco moves with the confidence of someone who owns the joint— or more likely someone who knows nobody else could possibly lay a finger on him. That speculation is only exacerbated by the sight of his pinstripe suit. Neatly pressed— or as neat as one’s clothes can be in here. The desired look is heavily crippled by the generous smattering of ruddy spills staining the once pristine fabric. His shotgun, Lupara, hangs loosely from his hand like an afterthought. The way he carries it utterly flippant. As if it’s presence isn’t a herald of death, and just… is. Like a an extension of himself, a limb. There was no Franco ‘il Bambino’ Barbi without Lupara.
The man’s eyes seem to glow through the lens of your goggles, pupils reflective and giving a ghostly-look as he surveys the area. Lopsided grin growing, crooked teeth bared as he takes in the overturned chairs.
“ ‘S a real cozy joint,” he muttered, his voice a pleasant rasp. His tone was casual, but there was an edge hiding beneath it, a simmering promise of violence. “Real nice place for a late-night chat, don’t’cha think, Sweetness?”
His wing-tipped shoes crunched on broken glass as he sauntered further in, his gaze sweeping across the room. His grin widened, baring crooked teeth in a lopsided sneer. “You’s cozy in here, Sweets?” he called, his voice deceptively teasing, almost familiar.
You fought the pounding in your chest, the desperate thrum of adrenaline urging you to run, move, do something. The only thing stopping you was a heavy dose of self-preservation. Realistically, he’d hear you before you could take two steps, and you’d end up a gorey, painted smear on the business-end of Lupara. Not only that, but another part of you was morbidly fascinated.
So, like any other sane person in your shoes, you lay still. Crouched low to tiled floor, and watched.
Franco paused near the counter, his engorged head tilting again as though he were listening. His breath rasped in the silence, heavy and uneven. Then he chuckled, a low, guttural sound that made your stomach churn with unease. He reached out, dragging Lupara’s sawed barrel along a nearby table, the sharp scrape setting your teeth on edge. A wordless threat meant to rattle you, and holy-hell does it get the job done.
“You’re not playin’ fair, doll,” he drawls, voice taking on a mockingly hurt tone. Nasally in pitch, wobbly, as if he’s about to cry. “I thought we’s had somethin’ special.”
Abruptly, he fired without warning.
The booth beside you splinters in a deafening blast, plates clattering and metal screeching. The reverberation rings around in your skull, causing you to jolt in surprise— for a moment believing you’d been shot. In your panic, your cranium thuds against the underside of the table. Pain throbs through your skull, causing you to whip your hands clasped over your mouth, stifling the reflexive cry that threatened to escape. Above, the countertop rattles with your movement, betraying your presence.
Franco stills.
For a horrifying moment, you thought he’d heard you. Through the lens of the goggles, you watch him crouch low, one hand reaching out to grope blindly under the ruined booth. His fingers curled, grasping at empty air.
“C’mere mommy,” he mutters darkly. But when his hand fails to find you, he sorely swears under his breath. He then rises back up onto his feet, kicking at the splintered wood like a frustrated child denied dessert.
“Fuckin’ slut, givin’ me the slip.” he roars, spittle dribbling down his lip. The man’s stocky shoulders quake, panting heavily in enraged exertion. For a moment, you think he’s about to double down, rip apart every booth in a mad-rage until he found you. However, in the next moment, he’s taking a deep, stuttering breath. Already back to his smarmy collected calm in the next exhale.
With a disgruntled sigh, he straightens himself out. Wiping his mouth, gloved hand then reaching to fuss with what little hair he has left. When he’s ensured it was coiffed presentably back into place, he slung Lupara over his shoulder, meandering back the way he came.
As the bell jingled again, signaling his exit, your shoulders sagged in relief. The once palpable tension in the air melts, leaving you a trembling, boneless puddle. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Somehow, you’d slipped by him again. But you knew this definitely wouldn’t be the last.
could i request baby making with chamber? so much foreplay, multiple orgasms with the hottest dirty talk, breeding-kink-ish and the best aftercare?🥹
i really love your writing!!
CHAMBER x FEM!READER
tw// NSFW Themes (sex), unprotected sex, poorly google translated French, lap-sitting, spanking, Vincent casually sexualizing fem-bodied reader in a public setting, choking, light BDSM, breeding kink brain rotted Vincent, dirty talking, sub reader, dom Vincent, oral (both giving and receiving) aftercare.
by Sanyulmi via Twitter
Everyone in the protocol celebrated their off days differently. Pheonix spent his time trying to get at different girls or—Jett. Yoru spent his time with games or taking a ride out to the garden. Raze would spend time with Killjoy, etc!
Your days were different, though. You often found yourself out of the country or at a resort somewhere in France. The warm air, the exquisite food selection, and the company of Vincent Fabron. He was the man generous enough to spoil you any chance he got. He simply adored you. Vincent would do anything to put a smile on your face. Vacations became the norm at the very beginning of your relationship with him. As soon as his bank account blew up from his sales of weapons, Vincent became Chamber. It was quickly dubbed to be the perfect relationship.
Now, what about the future?
Vincent always dreamed of starting a family with you. He wondered how your children would look and how he would fair as a dad. He was a man that could do anything since he wasn’t sentenced to endlessly working to provide. The dream of being able to spend time with his family.
It was a Friday morning when he finally came to his senses. The two of you have been planning parenthood for a while but there was no set date of when you’d try for a baby. It was just something that…would happen. He was also tied up with his scheme with mirror Vincent. Another thing was that he didn’t want to pull you away from the protocol if you were truly enjoying your time with them. He was very considerate.
Until…he wasn’t.
Sometimes you were just too hard to resist.
The French man found himself staring at you, respectfully. You two were relaxing on the beach together and you were just an arm’s length away from each other. He watched as you took off the silk kimono, revealing a bikini that left nothing to the imagination. It brought together your breasts for flattering cleavage. The bikini bottom was a high-rise thong that made your waist look small and your hips curvy. You hadn’t been paying Vincent any mind the whole time until you decided to finally get up.
You turned around. “Vince, I think I’m gonna go in the water for a bit-“ You trailed off when you saw his smug face that was previously staring at your ass. “Vincent.” You narrowed your eyes. The sudden shift in your tone caused him to snap out of his daze. His eyes then rose upward to your breasts. So shameless.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and breaking the line of sight. “What are you doing?” You asked, unamused at his behavior. He wasn’t the gentleman he always portrayed himself to be. You knew him best.
“Oh, me? I am just enjoying the view.”
A giggle left your mouth. “Oh really? I believe the beach is over there but for some reason, you just can’t keep your eyes off of me.” You placed your hands under your breasts making them jiggle just a bit. He wanted you so badly. “There are things in this world that are far more beautiful than this beach.” He took a sip of the nearby cocktail that was sitting on the end table beside him.
“Mmm. Who knew I could have found someone so romantic.” You smiled softly before eyeing him once more. “Are you not hot wearing all of that?” You saw that he was still wearing his usual attire. A suit. At the beach.
You loved his look but he was the only one dressing like that…apart from the bodyguards that were just out of sight.
“Of course, mon amour, you know I have my suits made to be breathable,” Vincent muttered as he adjusted the umbrella over his head for more shade. “Well, can you help me finish putting on some sunscreen?” You grabbed the bottle you had previously been using before politely giving it to him.
“Anything for you.”
You smirked at Vincent before sitting on his lap with your back to him. You brushed your hair out of the way, revealing the exposed skin of your back. You heard him fiddling around with the bottle, removing his gloves before applying it accordingly. The process was normal at first until he would get to your lower back. His hands were roaming a little…too much. You felt his fingertips dig themselves into your waist before his hands firmly found themselves gripping your hips. Your perfect baby-bearing hips.
Was it true that some men become more attracted to women based on their ability to carry children? Maybe…but for Vincent, it was very true! You were the only woman worthy of carrying his seed.
“Mmm. You don’t miss a meal, do you, Mon trésor?” He muttered under his breath, taking in every ounce of you. Perverse thoughts filled his mind as he undressed you even more with his eyes. His comment took you by surprise, almost making you jump at his words. “Vincent?! We’re in public.” You absentmindedly shifted your weight beneath him. The friction began making his pants tighten. “Oh, l know, sweetheart but I hardly get to enjoy you until we have time alone like this. I miss it so very much~”
“Maybe later if you’re good.” You remove yourself from his lap. The expression he made was almost cute. He definitely missed you in more ways than one. It wasn’t something he could control either. His eyes always lingered on you, every day of the week.
You then left Vincent to be by himself for a little bit. Not only could he be smothering sometimes, but it was also just nice to be able to explore some parts of the resort by yourself. It wasn’t long before your husband caught up to you, finally dressing in appropriate attire for the weather. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but place your hands on your cheeks and smile like a complete idiot.
“Aww, Vince, you look so cute.” You remarked as you made your way over to him. Although embarrassed, Vincent smiled as well. It was always nice having a pretty woman call him “cute”. “Well, mademoiselle, I do have to admit that I was getting a little warm.” Vincent sighed, eyes lingering once again on your exposed assets. He wanted nothing more than to just fondle your breasts, not caring who was looking. “Just in time for dinner as well.” You snapped him out of his daze. You knew Vincent to be more engaging than this but you just assumed he was probably tired from traveling.
The two of you made a reservation at a nearby restaurant. It was much fancier than anything you’d eat at, personally, but you could never say no to thoughtful gestures.
The evening began well. The two of you were seated quickly by the staff because of Vincent’s status so you were happy. There was a scheduled performance so he had a booth reserved where you could sit side by side instead of just across from one another. That was when Vincent’s behavior finally began to make sense to you.
When you received the menu to order, you felt his hand creep up your thigh, beneath the table. “Vincent.” You placed your hand over his. “The night’s almost over, can’t you wait a little?” But your statement was ignored by him gingerly rubbing your inner thigh. His fingertips just brushed the crotch of your bikini bottoms.
No one was able to see, not when the waiter that had come by to deliver your pitcher of water…before promptly spilling it on you!
You instantly lose the feeling of pleasure as the cold water washed over your chest, dripping into your lap. It was too much water to make a scene to stop the performance, but it was enough to soak you. Now you want to change.
“I-I’m so sorry, Miss!” The young waitress began apologizing profusely. It was clear that she was new, so you wouldn’t hold it against her. “Oh, it’s alright, I guess.” You muttered, beginning to shiver as well.
You had been expecting Vincent to intimidate the young lady. This was a 5-star restaurant and he paid a lot to bring you here but…he was distracted. Again.
He watched the cold water stimulate your breasts. It hardened your nipples so much that they were practically poking through your bikini top. It felt like it was only the two of you in the room. The subtle movements of your breasts jiggling as you receive the towel from the manager to dry yourself. He saw you turn towards him, mouthing something he couldn’t hear. You noticed his eyes were looking at you at all.
“—…cent…”
“…Vincent!”
Finally, Vincent made appropriate eye contact. “Do you think we can maybe go back to the hotel so that I can change? My swimsuit is really clingy to my skin.” You instinctively pulled up the strap and let it go to slap your skin, making your breasts bounce once again.
“U-Um, chérie, you’re right. Let’s go to the room and come back.” The French man cleared his throat before helping you out of the booth. You smiled at the manager before asking her to hold your booth until the two of you came back.
Upon entering the room, Vincent quickly broke off from you, locking himself in the bathroom. ‘What’s with him?’ You thought to yourself. Although dumbfounded, you carried on, undressing and looking for something super cute to match Vincent. When he exited the bathroom, he was met with a pleasant surprise.
Your damp, naked body.
“There you are.” You sighed. “Do you remember what bag I put my other outfits in?” You bent over, rummaging around in different bags until you found what you were looking for. “Oh, here they are. They were in your bag.” You giggled to yourself. “How did that happ-“ You cut yourself off, feeling a presence behind you.
Vincent pressed his body up against yours from behind. His masculine arms enveloped your frame into his. Your ass ground up against his bulge. “Je suis désolé chérie but I just wanted to let you know how good you looked today.”
You hummed, leaning further into him. “Oh really? I could already tell you wanted to say something by how you were staring at me with those hungry eyes.”
A hand moved from your waist to one of your breasts, and his fingers brushed your nipples, gripping and twisting them to make them hard once again.
“Vincent! The dinner~!” You whined. “I know, sweetheart.” He replied, in a low voice. “You’ve been teasing me all day with that body of yours and I’ve held this feeling in as well.” Vincent removed his tie. He released you, allowing you to turn and face him. “Can we do it my way, now? It’s been all week.”
Your lips parted for just a moment. At first, you couldn’t remember exactly what he was referring to but in a split second, it came to mind. He wanted to do it without a condom. He didn’t particularly like the way it felt for him but he’d always wear them anyway. He proposed the idea of doing it without one because he wanted to feel your walls without any restraint.
“Fine, but we have to be fast. I don’t want to miss the show.” You said sweetly before Vincent promptly took both of your hands and put them together. He wrapped his tie around your wrists, making a cute bow on the front side for you to be satisfied with. You exhaled, lowering yourself to your knees where his growing cock was.
“Go ahead, don’t be shy.” He placed his hand on top of your head. Your face heated up as you meekly listened to him, pulling his dick out of the trousers. The tip was already strained with precum when you began to kiss it softly. Moans exited Vincent’s mouth when your soft plump lips came in contact with his cock. The gently placed hand on your head began to grip your hair.
You made swirls with your tongue before letting it deep into your mouth, touching the back of your throat. Your actions made him tremble and jerk at the pleasure. Saliva dripped down your chin and the sight of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick was enough to make him cum for the first time. His load filled your mouth with most of it slipping down your throat.
Vincent pulled his dick out of your mouth. Now, he was really getting into it. “Is that all?” You managed to say. You whipped your mouth of any more contents and swallowed what was left. “We are only just getting started. You are good at what you do, you know.” He raised his hand to brush the strands of hair out of your face due to his roughness. “So, I’ve been told.” You remarked. Vincent chuckled. “I know it’s something I’ve said a lot by now.” He picked you up, placing you on the bed.
“I’m going to breed you so well, mon amore.” Vincent's smirk sent chills up your spine. The only thing you could do was patiently wait until you were bred, honestly. The two of you kissed passionately. It started innocently and progressed into something needier—hungry. You failed to quiet the moans coming out of your mouth when he moved to your collarbone and breasts. His teeth and tongue abused your tender skin, leaving marks that your co-workers would surely see very soon. “I can’t wait to fill your womb with my cum. I promise you will love it too, ma princesse.” His lips latched onto your nipple, sucking and enjoying the sight of you squirming at his pleasure. He sucked and played with your tits until they were so hard that just the wind was able to stimulate them.
“All day…” he began, his voice rumbling against your skin. “It’s taken so much out of me not to just rip those clothes off of you.” He chuckled. “And here you are, being a good girl and taking them off for me.” He resumed his actions, taking a hand and slipping it between your folds just to get an idea of how wet you were getting. “I better be the only one who can make you this wet.”
“Vince…” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. He was really just doing what he wanted with you. His kisses trailed down to your stomach and then your inner thighs. He spent a lot of time there, licking and teasing just above where your slick folds were. “Ahh, I remember you always being so tight. Even too tight for my tongue.” His thick wet muscle inserted itself inside. It was a combination of fingering and going down on you, consuming all the cream that dared to leak out. Your core was heating up between your legs. You didn’t have any control over your body. The only thing he wanted you to do was helplessly lay there and tremble at his touch.
“I want to hear how loud that pretty voice of yours can get.” Vincent declared against your skin. He ate you out nice and slow, edging you enough to drive you insane. “Vincent, baby, please!” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to find your high so that you could finally cum. Your thighs closed around his head as you felt the euphoric warmth wash over your body. Broken moans left your mouth and when you finally released Vincent, his mouth was covered in your cream. “I can tell you’ve really been holding it in.” He cleaned up what was left. Now it was time for the main show.
Vincent crawled on top of you, releasing the buttons of his shirt, allowing you to see his abs and the glistening sweat that coated his skin. “You still want more…?” You mewled, stomach churning with nervousness and pleasure. “Of course, mon amore. I’ve yet to breed you.”
You instinctively began to fidget in your bondage. His eyes were still hungry and it felt like if he were an animal, he would ravage you. You felt his dick rubbing between your folds, pre-cum leaking out and wetting your entrance. The way you shied away and hid at times like this gave him the strength to penetrate you. The feeling he got inside was something closer to joy or happiness when he saw your innocent expressions become not so innocent…
He began slow, thrusting into you firmly, making you gasp and jump with every stroke. He knew you were enjoying his pace when you wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer. Vincent couldn’t resist wrapping his hand around your neck, squeezing softly, and began to pick up the pace.
“You’re taking me so well, amore.”
The tip of his dick kissed your womb with fragments of his cum leaking inside. He was already getting close but he didn’t want to cum just yet.
You felt Vincent pull out. “I want to see that beautiful ass of yours.” He helped you turn over, effortlessly making your ass point up toward him. He took your cheeks in both hands, jiggling them so hard that the vibrations stimulate your pussy and make you wetter. It was abrupt but he would periodically slap them, just to see your reaction. He loved being the only person that could ever dream of doing this with you. Your cheeks turned red from the contact and now he was finally ready. He inserted himself inside once again. This time he was much more aggressive, pounding you much harder.
“V-Vincent!” You cried but he didn’t listen. The sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis was too intoxicating. “I have to breed you.” He said. “I need to get you pregnant with my kids.”
“You’re s-so selfish!” You whimpered. “You’re right, I’m so selfish.” He growled. “No one else can have you but me.” Years began to fill your eyes with overstimulation. Your core was burning and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I’m gonna cum…” You mumbled. Vincent chuckled deeply. “Then cum, beautiful. Squirt all over my big cock.”
Your body tensed up. Your nipples became hard and your eyes rolled back. You moaned loudly and the feeling of hyper-relaxation filled your body. You released your juices all over him. You felt his loud fill your womb as he grunted and gripped your ass cheeks while pushing himself further into you.
You were left speechless. You could definitely go another round but Vince seemed to be soft now. He was out of breath but the way he looked while tired made you blush. His face was red from blushing too. He was cute while flushed. “Oh my, what have I done to you?” The man sighed while eyeing you with an apologetic expression. He removed his tie from around your wrists.
“I think you should rest after that.” He suggested. You knitted your eyebrows together. “But the restaurant…” you whined. “Don’t worry, amore. We can go back tomorrow night, I promise.”
Vincent took it upon himself to run you a bath in the other room. He figured the warm water would soothe your holes and womb from what just occurred. It was a surprise but you actually needed help walking. Your left leg went numb from all the pleasure and he had to catch you from falling. He placed you in the tub and you thought that would be the end of it but he got in with you!
He was so very sweet, washing you in an innocent manner and even cuddling with you as you soaked. It was pretty much needed given everything that just happened. You hoped that this would satisfy him enough to finally enjoy the trip instead of being distracted by your ass breasts. He really made you smile sometimes when he was just being himself. You showered each other in kisses before exchanging “I love yous”.
warning ! this url contains unprotected $3X, mommy kynk, nd cussin! you've been warned!
when sonny admitted that he wanted to make you a mother, you thought he was joking, or maybe even lying. you thought that, considering he came from such a big family he would want to wait for kids. but after his youngest sister birthed his (third? forth?) niece, he asked, no— begged you for a baby. just one, he promises (he lied).
he almost cums just by you lowering yourself onto his cock, your dripping kitty just gliding to connect the two of you completely. his balls throb so painfully he whines into your neck, dragging his lips up and down the side before crying out when you clench,
"mommy...y'so fuckin wet around me, fuck." he's not wrong, you two hadn't had a single second of peace the entire week, and the second he was told to take a few days off, he came home ready to be inside you until he couldn't anymore.
your head retracts a bit at the word, looking down at your fiance, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. his eyes are so low and his eyebrows are perched up like a puppies. "mommy?" you ask him, your eyes squinting a bit, intrigued.
"yeah, 'm gonna make you a mommy.. 'm gonna fuckin cum in you till it drips out." his rough hands grip your hips, roughly moving you up and down his cock. his voice drops so fucking deep, like it does when he first wakes up in the morning. his cock is hitting the right spot, just right. and that stupid fucking name keeps falling from him lips, his pink, soft, beautiful lips—
Pairing/s: Bi Han x Gn!Reader
Warning/s: SMUT (18+), maybe a slight ooc bi han, no pronouns used, gender-neutral terms for genitals (e.g sex, hole), mentions chest bouncing/jiggling, sloppy makeouts, fondling, nipple sucking, steamy passionate sex oof
Word Count: 1,017
Summary: the grandmaster is absent from his duty.
Author's note: oh this man's dick is so big... i just know it
"where's bi han and (name)?" kuai liang asked as he entered the training grounds of the lin kuei palace, "It's almost time to train the initiates."
tomas shrugged, "I've been looking for them everywhere. they're not in his study or even their bedroom." he sighed while watching the group of initiates march right behind his older brother.
it wasn't right for the grandmaster of the lin kuei and his beloved to miss this, especially since he was always the one reminding his younger siblings of this day and that he'd make them train like hell if they were ever late for it. bi han had expressed every single day that this training of the new initiates was of importance for the future of the lin kuei clan.
so where could he be?
soft moans escaped your lips as you felt the strong hips of your husband snap against yours. the impact causing so much pleasure to erupt that you had to bite your lower lip to avoid being heard by outside audiences. unlike you, bi han had control over the volume of his sounds despite such amazing pleasure; letting out a few grunts and groans as he watches his cock slip in and out of your drenched hole, covered in your slick with a white ring forming at the base.
how did it come to this? bi han did not care.
it was early when he was on his way to the training grounds to get ready, when his oh-so-beloved partner suddenly dragged him to a secluded closet room, completely hidden from the naked eye. he was about to tell you off but came out as a choke as his eyes raked down at your beautiful wet naked body, a white robe dangling from your arms; you had just got out of the hot springs. you sat yourself down on a small table and looked at him in the eye with lust and hunger that he recognized in an instant. before he has the chance to say anything, you suddenly open your legs wide exposing your glistening hole.
he should just leave you here, wet and wanting, but his thoughts were cut off as you stuck your middle and ring fingers in your mouth⎯sucking them so good⎯then trailed them down to your aching nether regions. letting out soft pants as you drench it even more with your saliva.
your smirk was what made bi han snap and grab you roughly to his body.
now you're here⎯overstimulated to the bone, god knows how many times you came.
your legs were loosely wrapped around his waist, head lolling back as your mind clouded and was extremely hazy⎯so cock drunk that you couldn't even find the right words or form sentences to express yourself. your body had totally surrendered itself to the dominant aura of your grandmaster and he knew it.
"b-bi han... fuuck~" you mewled, his hand squeezing around your throat had you close to cumming, "please ...grandmaster~"
his hips faltered for a second before continuing its aggressive pounding⎯oh that title turned bi han on so much that it pissed him off; his eyebrows furrowed as his climax was closely creeping up but he knew he needed to hold on, to make you cum first before he did.
he pulled you in by the throat and lowly growled in your ear, "i thought i told you to stay silent, pet. you have already seduced me away from my duty today, so be obedient and let me use you."
all you could do was nod absent-mindedly as bi han let go of your throat to firmly place his hands on your hips and pound you into oblivion. you could not do anything but watch as your husband thrust at such an aggressive pace, the sweet wet plap plap sounds filled the room as bi han watches the fucked-out expression plastered on your face⎯eyes so unfocused, mouth breathing out silent pants, tongue lolling out⎯and the way the flesh of your chest bounces with every hard thrust. he was completely hypnotized by you.
he internally let out a groan, why must you be so irresistible? he thought to himself.
his hands then grabbed your midsection and raised your chest to his waiting mouth. his lips immediately wrapped themselves around your nipple and proceeded to suck harshly while his other hand fondles the other breast which caused you to let out a loud gasp and combed your fingers through his messy hair⎯his bun was surprisingly still holding itself together. the rough thrusts and heaven-blessed mouth of your husband took you to absolute ecstasy, and you wished this moment would never stop.
bi han finally let himself drown in his desires as he pulled away from your saliva-covered chest and left a soft kiss on your sternum, trailing up your neck. you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your nails onto the skin of his back, wanting to deepen the warm embrace of your cryomancer husband.
bi han's strong arms wrapped themselves tighter around you until both of your fronts were squeezed together, his hips now in short deep thrusts and grinding against yours. he looked into your eyes before smashing his hungry lips onto yours. his tongue easily dominating yours, intertwining aggressively and passionately.
"yes~! ah! fuck, im gonna cum... bi han please..." you slightly pull away, panting against his mouth. he grunted in response chasing after your plump lips to silence your cries as his thrusts never faltered.
you both continue to makeout as you finally reach your climax. you quietly scream into his mouth before pulling away and hiding your face in the crook of his sweaty neck. for the first time, in maybe forever, bi han let out a quiet whimper and a soft fuck before snapping and stilling his hips against yours⎯spilling and painting all his load inside of you.
you both stay still to let the post-orgasmic state pass; giving each other light pecks on the corner of his lips, your neck, and each other's shoulders, whispering romantic praises and blissful i love you's.
i guess missing today's duties isn't so bad.
A/N: it's so unfair he doesn't exist like i want to give this man children thanks kshdkahdjakhd please god GIVE ME ONE CHANCE
Que Va a Pedir La Princesa? (What's the Princess going to ask for?)
Pairings: Phillip Graves x Alejandro's daughter reader
Word Count: 6,442
Warnings: SMUT! Loss of virginity, degradation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex, breeding, and more.
A/n: AHHHH!!! I did it! It's finished! Let me know what yall think, especially the spicy scenes. It's been a while since I wrote anything smutty. I definitely recommend to listen La Nina Fresa by Banda Machos and Playing Dangerous by Lana Del Rey. It's what I was listening to while writing. There are some Spanish phrases and I will try my best to provide translations at the end of the fic.
After capturing Hassan and not long after that, having to set him loose, Shadow Company, Taskforce 141, Los vaqueros decided to let out their frustrations in Alexandro’s base. Carrying cases of liquor, tequila, and a variety of beer into the base and celebrating their semi-victorious mission.
Graves watched as his men drank amongst Los vaqueros and laughed amongst each other. His attention was soon brought back to the table of men he was sitting amongst. Alexandro, Ghost, Soap, and Rudy.
It was evident that Alexandro has had too much to drink, the bottles of beer and a nearly empty bottle of tequila as proof of how much he had. His words were starting to slur and his sentence nearly incoherent.
“My sweet, preciosa princesa…” he wailed. His head against the worn-down wood table. “She’s growing up to quickly…pinche cabrones…” he was starting to mumble, his words, the rest of his sentences lost to the men around him except Rudy.
“The capitán gets very emotional when talking about his daughter” Rudy explained, with worry on his face when looking at Alexandro. “He recently noticed that his daughter has some admirers…and she seems to love the attention.”
Suddenly Alejandro grabs Rudy’s shoulders and shakes him as Alejandro continues to rant. “Hermano, mi princesa…protegerla de esos animales.”
“Same goes for you all. If you ever see my daughter near another man, you have my permission to kill him…” he said with such intensity in his eyes. “Mi Princesa is my world, she’s my only hija and no man is good enough for her.”
All the men around the table nodded their heads to Alejandro’s words, somewhat understanding his frustration, all except Graves whose mind was elsewhere. Maybe if he had heard Alejandro’s rant, he could’ve spared himself the trouble that was yet to come.
Graves continues to zone in and out of the conversation in front of him, his eyes wandering around the room, his mind trying to make sense of the music playing, understanding every other word. Graves takes a sip of his beer as he tries his best to listen to Alejandro’s and Rudy’s stories but couldn’t help the feeling as if he’s being watched.
Graves looks away from the men at the table and his eyes travel around the room until they stop at you. You were sitting on the hood of one of the jeeps that were inside of the base, your legs swinging over the edge. You were all by yourself, the only thing keeping you company was the nearly empty bottle of beer you held in between your lap. He makes eye contact with you and notices the way your eyes widen, a blush forms on your cheeks, and the way you straighten up once you realize his attention is on you.
His eyes roam across your body. He notices the very short skirt you’re wearing, if you were to spread your legs a bit further, he would be able to see your underwear. He takes note of the cropped and low-cut top you’re wearing. Your dark hair is braided into two pigtails with ribbon incorporated into the braids. He noticed you were the youngest in the base. Far too young to even buy alcohol in the states, but old enough for Mexico.
He stares into your eyes again and couldn’t help but smirk at the way you squirm and quickly look away, watching as your face turns red.
His attention is back to the men at the table and noticed Alejandro had fallen asleep, his face planted against the table. Rudy continues to tell his story about how he met Alejandro during his training days, Graves trying his best to listen until he felt his side being nudged by the Scott beside him.
“I saw the way that lass was looking at you mate.” Soap said with a smirk and intentionally raised his eyebrows. Graves raised his eyebrows in return, waiting for the Scott to continue. “You should go over there, mate. Aye, you could even get lucky tonight.” Soap roughly slapped Phillips’s back.
Rudy overhears Soaps and Phillip’s conversation and stops his story.
“Who’s the lady?” Rudy asks as his eyes begin to wander around the room. “We need to help a Hermano out if this is true.”
“The young lass over there by the Jeep.” Soap exclaims while shaking his head toward where you were sitting. Graves should’ve noticed the way Rudy’s eyes widen in fear and the face of worry spreading across his face, but he didn’t, his eyes remained on you.
“No no no no. You must stay away from her. She’s---” Rudy was caught off by the sound of Alejandro jolting awake and violently coughing. It wasn’t the first time Rodolfo was with Alejandro when he had too many drinks, he knew what was coming if he didn’t lead him to a restroom. Rudy was quick to get on his feet and lead Alejandro away from the table before he emptied his stomach in front of his men.
Ghost stood up from his seat, “I’d stay away from her. She looks like she is nothing but trouble.” Ghost explained, looking in your direction before leaving the two men alone, calling it a night.
“Don’t listen to them mate. They ain’t nothing but cockblocks.” Soap mumbled; his lips pressed against the top of the beer bottle. “I’d walk over there and lean against the Jeep. Call her darling and watch as she blushes and squirms with the nickname. Maybe have my hand on her knee and the other on her waist. Eventually, My hand would slowl-“
“Fucking Hell, stop right there. I don’t want to hear how you’re gonna fuck her.” Graves cursed out. “Besides I’m far too old for her. Probably couldn’t handle the way I was eyeing her.”
Both men look back in your direction and they both couldn’t deny the way you were looking at the commander of the Shadow Company. Your eyes-maintained eye contact with his, the way you were batting your lashes at him, and the way your eyes innocently looked him up and down and lingered between his legs.
“Fucking hell. That lass is stripping you naked in her mind.”
Graves didn’t reply, his attention remained on you. He watched closely as your eyes looked around the room before stopping again at Graves. He watched as you bit your lip, the blush on your cheeks turning a furious shade of red as you slowly spread your legs.
Graves felt his dick twitch in his pants, ignoring the curses that were coming out of the mouth of the Scott beside him.
His eyes focused between your legs, the skirt rising higher and higher until suddenly the bottle you held in your hands was placed right between your thighs, blocking the sight of your panties. His eyes went back to your eyes, noting the mischievous look in your eyes.
If Graves were paying attention to his surroundings, maybe he would’ve noticed the shocked stares from the members of Los Vaqueros, the hushed whispers among themselves. His full attention was on you, the light from behind you made you look like an angel, but Los Vaqueros knew you were the devil in disguise.
They knew you were forbidden fruit; you were the serpent from Adam and Eve.
Los Vaqueros knew they were about to be witnesses to your serpent tongue, luring Graves to your forbidden fruit, oblivious to the consequences he will face with God.
Los Vaqueros watched intently as Graves stood from his seat and walked his way towards you, all of Alejandro’s men curious as to where this interaction would go.
———
You watched as Graves walked up towards you; each step he took radiated the confidence he carried. You watched as he leaned beside the Jeep you were seated on top of. You looked down at him and sent him a sickeningly sweet smile. You couldn’t help but enjoy the leverage that came with sitting on the hood of the car, your seated position on the hood had the man before you look up to you. Making it even easier for him to fall into your hands.
“What bring you here güero.” You teased as your hand slowly crept up his arm.
“Keeping you company, beautiful. You seemed awfully lonely over here.” He said as he moved from his spot on the side of the Jeep and instead took the spot between your legs. His hands now resting on your knees, noticing the way your legs jumped at the feeling of his warm hands on your skin. “That empty bottle keeping you company?”
You looked down at him as he looked up at you, his blue eyes reminding you of a needy puppy wanting attention. “It was but I guess you’ll do for now” You replied as your hands traveled to his head and played with his hair. You shivered at the feeling of his breath against your thighs as his head rested against the hood of Jeep, shaking his head and low chuckles escaping his lips. “Mi Papi is so protective of me. He’s scared all the men away from me.” You whined.
“And who’s your ‘Papi’?” Graves asked, looking up at you curiously as his hand slowly traveled up and away from your knee and rested on your thigh.
“If I tell you you’ll leave me too.” You pouted.
“Nothing scares me, princess.” He mumbled against the skin of your thigh, the stubble tickling your skin.
“Really? Nothing scares you?” You asked innocently. You leaned forward, placing your hands on his arms. “But my Papi is a very scary man. I’d even call him a monster”
“Monster? That’s a little harsh ain’t it?” he asked with raised eyebrows. He watched as you shook your head no and laughed at your reaction. His grip on your thighs tightened before releasing them and holding your hands instead. “Well, if a monster is hiding you away, well then it’s my duty to save the sweet and docile princess, isn’t that right.”
“Ah, the güero as my knight in shining armor?” You placed your hand under your chin in a thinking manner, bit your lip, and pretended to think about his words. “Hmmm…I guess you’ll do but you have to prove your worth to me.” You said, looking deep into the man’s eyes.
“Why would I leave the monster who’s protected me for so long and follow a Knight who might not even be able to protect me and treat me like the princess I am.” You said why squeezing his hands before shoving them off you. “I am quite the spoiled princess.”
“Spoiled and bratty.” Graves commented. “But whatever the princess desires I will deliver.” He gently grasped your hand and pecked a kiss on the back of your hand.
You watched as he took a step back, giving you the chance to slide off the hood of the car and stand before him, the height leverage you had was gone. Suddenly feeling a lot smaller under his lustful gaze. You looked up at him, innocently batting your lashes.
“What this princess wants…” you leaned in close to him, your breasts pressed against him, your hand resting on his chest. “… is for you to pleasure her.” You heard him curse under his breath, enjoying the way his eyes squeezed shut at your words.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into baby.” He whispered into your ear, one hand holding onto your waist while the other on your lower back.
“I think I do, commander,” you said sternly.
“Once I get my hands on you, you’ll be crying for your daddy to come to save you.” He muttered against your ear. His hand slowly travels lower and lower until it’s resting on your ass.
“I don’t need my Papi to save me.” You teased back. “I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” Your hand traveled from his chest to the area between his legs, softly squeezing the growing bulge between his legs.
Los Vaqueros watched as you led the commander of the Shadow Company to his grave.
“Eso Gringo tiene el Muerte esperándolo”
A chorus of laughter can be heard as the men from the shadow company sat confused.
“What does that mean?”
“That white man has death waiting for him.” a member of Los Vaqueros explained.
“He’s about to fuck the only daughter of Alejandro Vargas, our Capitán.”
———
Graves followed behind you as you led him down a corridor with doors every few feet. His eyes constantly roam up and down your body. Your long legs, your plush thighs, the skirt bouncing with your every step, your lower back exposed due to the top you were wearing.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you.
Suddenly you twirled to look at him, walking backward slowly until coming to a complete stop.
“What’s wrong? Having second thoughts?” Phillip asked, looking for any uncertainty on your face.
You shook your head before answering him.
“No. I want to do this. But my room or yours? I might have a monster waiting under my bed.” You said while twirling the end of your pigtail.
“We wouldn’t want that now, would we? “Graves replied. He walked up to you, turned you around, placed his hand on your lower back, and led you to his room where he was staying temporarily.
You read the names on each plaque that was placed on the door of each room.
Riley
‘…’
McTavish
‘…’
Parra
‘Oh,’ You thought to yourself.
Vargas
‘No mames,’ you cursed to yourself.
Graves
While Graves fished for the key in the pocket of his jean, you glanced around the corridor, paranoid that your father could step out of his room at any moment. That your father could appear right behind you, hell you worried that his second-in-command was watching you and waiting for the opportunity to snitch on you.
As soon as you heard the door click to Graves’s room, signaling that he had unlocked it. You shoved yourself to his room and pulled him in before closing the door shut.
“So eager for me?” Graves asked, slightly startled at the speed you pulled him into his room.
“I’m just impatient.” You replied. “My daddy never made me wait for what I wanted.”
“Is that so?” Graves asked. He watched as you sat at the edge of the bed. His eyes roamed your body as you stretched your arms, letting your body fall into his bed and letting out a contempt sigh at the feeling of the soft mattress on your back.
“What’s the hold-up gringo?” You asked, holding your upper body on your elbows. “I don’t like to wait.”
You watched carefully as Graves walked up to your body before deciding to kneel between your spread legs.
“Such a fucking spoiled princess. Your father did such a poor job of raising you.” He commented as he removed your shoes and socks. “But I’m no better. Following your every wish.” You shivered at his soft pecks that started at your ankles and led up to your thighs.
You shut your eyes, trying your best to control your breathing as you felt his hands pulling at the end of your skirt, and letting it rest at your ankles. You squeezed your legs shut as you felt his fingers resting on the elastic of your panties.
“You’re acting as if you’ve never been touched before baby.” Graves looked up at you and watched as your eyes widen at his words. “Jesus Christ” he whispered.
Suddenly both of your thighs were gripped harshly and forcibly spread apart. You watched Graves process your reaction to his words. “Never?” He asked.
“Never.” You responded bashfully. “Like I said my Papi chased all the boys away. Besides, I’ve wanted the touch of a real man, not from a boy.”
“You’ll show me the touch of a real man, right?” you asked. You were unsure if the fact that you were a virgin affected anything.
“Whatever the Princess wants,” he muttered against the skin of your thighs, his hot breath hitting your entrance through your panties. “She gets.”
You whimpered at the feeling of a soft kiss he left through your panties. Your breathing quickly becomes labored as he continues to kiss and suck at your thighs, bruises slowly forming. You whined as the man between your legs continued to peck kisses at your covered pussy, sometimes even blowing air just to get a rise out of you.
“C’mon baby, keep making those pretty little noises. Let me know I’m spoiling the Princess the way she should be.” He mumbled; his lips pressed once again at the fabric of your underwear.
After minutes of endless teasing, you shuddered at the feeling of his fingers tugging at the elastic of your underwear. You felt him slowly pull down your underwear and watched it fall from your legs. The panties that were once covering the most intimate part of your body now rested on the fingertips of the man before you.
“Fucking hell, look just how wet you are baby.” He cursed as he examined the wet patch on your panty. “Looks like you fucking pissed yourself.”
“S-shut up, fucking pendejo” You stuttered out, embarrassed at his choice of words. Your cheeks flared at hearing him laugh.
“Sorry, princess. Daddy didn’t mean to upset you.” He said as he spread your legs further and hauled them over his shoulders. You squeaked at his rough treatment when he gripped your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. “Let me make it up to you.”
Not even having a second to process his words you let out a loud moan that had you covering your mouth. You didn’t even know you were capable of moaning so loudly, but how could you not when his tongue licked at your folds? Sucking at your arousal like a starved man. You whine and whimper at the feeling of his mouth on your pussy. Your hands harshly grip the bed sheets as you start to squirm. The stubble on his face adds to the pleasure as it tickles your body.
“F-fuck” You whined as your hands moved to his hair. Your finger raking through his hair as you start to tug. You feel as if your eyes roll to the back of your head as you heard him growl, sending vibrations to your core. “Please…daddy…. hah” you moaned.
Involuntarily, your body lunges forward as you felt his thumb rest on your clit. You cried out when you felt him press down and move his thumb in a circular manner. Tears were rolling down your face, the pleasure was too much for you. You hadn’t noticed you were trying to push yourself away from his mouth until you felt a harsh blow to your pussy.
You looked down at him with tears in your eyes. Shocked that he even decided to smack you on your pussy.
“You’re gonna fucking take it, sweetheart.” He stood up from his position and leaned over to you and harshly gripped your jaw. “I don’t want you to whine or complain that it’s too much. If you even dare to push me away again, I’ll go fucking find your Papi and tell him his spoiled little princess is trying to act like a big girl and ask for things she can’t handle. Am I clear?”
You shook your head yes and wiped away your tears. You whimpered again when he landed another blow to your pussy.
“Use your words, princess. Am I clear?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Atta girl." he grinned down at you before resuming his position between your legs. His mouth wastes no time to devour you once again. You whimpered and panted at the feeling of his lips against your folds, his tongue licking at your arousal. His face was buried deep into your thighs, his nose pressed against your throbbing bead.
“Ah! So, f-fuckin good…ai Papi…” you cried out. You started to buck your hips against his mouth, eagerly trying to find your high. Your legs started to feel numb, and your moans got higher and much more frequent.
“So, fucking wet baby.” Graves muttered against your folds. Anything below his nose was drenched in your fluids. His teeth tugged at your clit, and you cried out at the sting. “Gonna fucking cum baby?”
“yes yes yes yes” you chanted. You squeezed your legs shut around his neck, bringing him closer and in place. You were close, you couldn’t stop squirming, tears rapidly falling down your face, and incoherent curses escaping your lips.
The way your thighs were squeezing his head, he could die at any moment, and he wouldn’t mind. He could see the epitaph on his headstone,
Died doing what he enjoyed the most, eating wet pussy.
Pecking a soft kiss on your clit had you squirting on his face. Your thighs squeezed around his head, and shortly after your legs laid limply on his shoulders, your mouth was wide open, but no sounds were coming out, your eyes were rolled back, and your body was left trembling.
Phillip stood up from between your legs, a wide grin on his face. His shirt that he was wearing was completely soaked from your juices. He couldn’t help but laugh as you were quietly chanting ‘Papi’ repeatedly.
“Your Papi isn’t coming to save you.” Phillip teased as he gently smacked and played with the flesh of your inner thighs. “Besides, isn’t this what the Princess wanted? For me, to pleasure her?”
You looked up at him with glossy eyes and gently smiled at him.
“Keeping going,” you breathed out. “I’m…still not satisfied.
Graves looked down at your tired-out body. “You’re biting more than you can chew, princess.”
He watched as you wobbly got on your knees and reached over to him. He sat beside you and watched as your small fingers tried to unbutton his shirt, whining at your failed attempt, and just tugging at the ends. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and a pout on your lips. “Use your words, princess. What do you want?”
“Take your clothes off. I want to please you too.” You whined. You whimpered when he harshly gripped your chin and squeezed your cheeks together, forming an o-shape with your lips. His thumb traced your glossy lips.
“Didn’t your Papi teach you some manners?” Graves asked, looking down at your smaller form.
“Por favor, senor.” You begged. Graves let out a small laugh, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before pulling away and stripping himself from his clothes. You quickly did the same to the few clothes you had left. Pulling your top off and reaching your hands back to unclasp your white lace bra. Your breasts slightly bouncing after being freed from their restraints. By the time you had finished removing your bra, Graves had already finished removing his clothing, leaving him in his briefs.
You smiled as you saw his eyes roam your naked body, his eyes lingering on your breasts. You gently pushed yourself off the bed and kneeled before him. Your mouth-watering as you eye the hard bulge that was being restrained by his briefs. Your hands resting on his thighs, your lustful eyes looking up at his.
“Can I?” you asked. Your fingers trail closer and closer to your destination.
“I’m all your baby.”
With shaky fingers, you pulled at the elastic band and gasped at his tip smacking against your cheek. You looked up at him with wide eyes, shocked at how well-endowed he was.
“So big” you whispered in shock.
“Only the best for the princess.”
You looked back down at his cock and licked your lips before pressing small kisses starting from the base and all the way to the tip. Gasps and soft moans escaped his mouth at your gentle touch.
“What would your Papi think if he saw you with a cock in your mouth,” Phillip asked, his hand gently resting on the top of your head.
“He’d kill you.” You muttered against his tip, swallowing the tip whole, stopping Graves from forming any more thoughts. Your mouth, so wet and warm, gently sucking at his big tip. His eyes were squeezed shut as he bit his lip from the pleasure of your mouth. You gently sucked and licked at the tip, reminding you of the countless times when you would tease Los Vaqueros. Sucking and licking a popsicle your father had given you. Humming and eyeing Rodolpho whose eyes would linger on your lips before noticing the evil glint in your eyes.
Suddenly you found yourself gagging, your wide eyes looking up at the male in front of you. His head tilted and looking down at you with a wide grin.
“Stop with the teasing, baby.” He said playfully. “Or am I going to have to do everything for you?”
Not answering his question, you opened your mouth wide and tried your best to fit him all in your mouth. Tears pricked at your eyes; he was far too big for your mouth, but you lived to satisfy. Trying to suppress your gags, his tip hitting the back of your throat, you started to bob your head up and down his length. Your tongue swirling all over his length and humming in satisfaction from the quiet moans and grunts that escaped Phillip’s lips.
“So, fucking good princess…. fucking hell…” he cursed. “If I didn’t know any better, this isn’t your first time using that pretty mouth of yours.”
You pulled away from his cock and innocently batted your lashes at him. “I’ve had a lot of practice on some popsicles. Those seemed to be Rodolpho’s favorite treat to give me, but I’ll always end up in a mess.”
Your words elicited a laugh from the man. “Such a fucking tease. No wonder your Papi kept you locked up.” Graves didn’t give you the time to reply to his words before thrusting his hips into your mouth, you gagged and whined around his length at the sudden intrusion. His hand harshly gripped the back of your head and set a steady pace for you to suck him off.
Tears were spilling down your face, drool escaping the sides of your lips. Your hands claw at his thighs, your nails digging into his skin. Your eyes stared at his eyes while you sucked him off. You hummed around his length.
“C’mon, baby…c’mon, baby…c’mon baby…” he cursed out. “Fuuuck.”
You hummed at the praise and squeezed your eyes shut in pleasure. Your left hand held onto his thigh while your right hand found its way to your clit, teasing yourself. With one last final thrust, he snapped his hips, his cock reaching the back of your throat, leaving you gagging and coughing. Spurts of cum spewing into your mouth. You looked up into his eyes as you swallowed as best as you could.
You pulled away from his cock, making a loud ‘pop’ as your lips left his tip. You showered his dick with small kitten kisses, mumbling thank you repeatedly.
“Thank you, Daddy,” you muttered one last time before leaving a big kiss on the tip. You stood back on your feet and stood on your tippy toes, pouting your lips at Phillip, waiting for a kiss from him. Phillip moved a hand to cup your jaw while the other found its way to your waist. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, you eagerly reciprocated the kiss. Your tongues fighting for dominance.
You felt his body pushing you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until the back of your knees hit the mattress and you find yourself sprawled on the bed. You watched as Phillip slowly leaned over your body, his arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His face nestled in the side of your neck, sucking, and licking at your neck, leaving you whimpering and squirming under his touch. Your hand finds shelter in his hair while the other scratches at his back.
His hips rutted against yours, his hardened cock teasing at your entrance, your slick arousal making it easier for your slit to be teased. The tip of his cock occasionally hits your clit, leaving you shuddering. Your legs locked together behind his back, keeping him pressed against you.
“So, fucking good for me princess. Are you enjoying the touch of a man?” he asked, his lips now pressed against your breast. His mouth sucking on one breast while his hand tugs and pinches at your other.
“Please just fuck me…. please” you begged. “I can’t take it anymore. Use me.” You whined into his neck. You couldn’t handle the way his hips rutted against yours, teasing your entrance, you just wanted him inside. You wanted to be fucked.
“Use you?” Graves asked, he slightly pulled away from your hold and looked at your needy face. “I don’t think your Papi would like it if I didn’t treat his Princess with care. Got to return you in one piece.” he teased as he turned your body around, leaving you to lay on your stomach.
“I’m not a fucking princess. I’m yours.” You sobbed. “My pussy is yours. I want you to fuck me as you own me. I want to be treated like a whore. Your personal slut.” You rambled. You raised your hips and leaned your ass against his cock.
“Stop treating me like a princess…” you cried out. “…and just fuck me.”
Without hesitation or warning, Phillip snapped his hips into you, his cock sliding into your pussy with ease. You harshly gripped the sheets and screamed out into the mattress. You had your face pressed against the mattress as tears trailed down your face, crying out at the sudden intrusion at your virgin pussy. Your cunt stretched around his cock, despite the arousal that led to a quick intrusion. Your face was roughly pulled off the mattress, his hands having a tight hold on your now loose braids and pulling back on them.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? To be fucked and used.” He asked as he leaned over your shoulder and whispered into your ear. “I’m not going to go gentle on you, that’s for princesses, and you’re not a princess. You’re a fucking slut.”
He started to thrust into you at a fast pace, one hand holding onto your braids while the other held your hips. Your moans and cries echoed across the room; Phillip wouldn’t be surprised if the rooms surrounding his could hear you.
“So, fucking tight...” Graves cursed, his eyes shut tight at the way your pussy clenched around his cock, making it difficult to thrust in and out. “Gonna fucking ruin you, baby.” He hissed out. His hand smacked against your ass, leaving a red imprint shaped like his hand.
You were fucking drunk on his cock. Blabbering incoherent words as drool spilled from your lips, your eyes wide open and rolled to the back of your skull.
“So…f-full…. s-shit…” you moaned. His thrusts never faltered, his hips snapping brutally against you as his hand smacked at your ass and watched as a nice red slowly spreads on your skin. “So, fucking good daddy…fuck”
You felt as if your breath was knocked out of you, your cunt squeezed around him that him moaning. He knew he had found your sweet spot, the way you whined as he repeatedly hit the same spot over and over that left you pleading was proof enough.
“I-I…. can’t…it’s too much…” you sobbed. You squirmed, trying to get out of his hold that only had him pulling at your braids even harder, holding you in place. “Please…. I can’t…. Papi” you cried out.
Hearing you cry out for your father, Phillip landed three hard blows to your ass that left you creaming around his cock. Your body shuddered as you moaned loudly as you reached your high. Your body went limp, Graves pulled your body closer to him. Your back flushed against his chest as his hand gripped your throat which elicited a whimper from you. You continued to softly chant ‘Papi’ under your breath as you felt your consciousness drift.
“What the fuck did I say?” Graves growled into your ear. “Your Papi isn’t coming to save you so suck it up, baby. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
You could only shake your head and whine.
“Inside…” you whispered.
“Inside?” Graves smirked against the skin on your neck. “Want my cum inside this wet pussy?”
“Yes daddy…fuck your babies into me…” you whined. You felt your cunt clench on his cock again, you were nearing your second orgasm. Phillip groaned at your words and imagined your belly round with his kid. His pace started to falter, sloppily thrusting into you, his cock throbbing and ready to burst inside of you.
“Fucking hell…gonna cum inside this fucking wet pussy…” his hips harshly snapping into you, your ass jiggling on impact. “Fuck my babies into you…make you a mommy. You’re stomach gonna be round with my child.”
“Yes, please daddy. I want to be a mommy. Claim me with your cum” you moaned before feeling spurts of cum spraying inside of you. Your body convulsed as you reached your high once again, you felt yourself squirting, drenching Phillip’s thighs, and the sheets below you form a small puddle from your fluids.
Phillip let go of his hold on you and watched as you fell forward into the mattress. You were beyond exhausted and quickly found yourself drifting off to sleep, leaving Phillip alone with his thoughts.
Phillip just stood over your body for a few minutes, catching his breath and analyzing your body. His cum was slowly gushing out of your cunt and spilling down your thighs mixing with your arousal and cum. Bruises littered your body. Some bigger bruises could be found on your knees, while smaller bruises shaped like his fingertips could be seen on your thighs, hips, waist, and your neck. Hickies were scattered around, only being able to differentiate between a bruise and a hickey would be the small teeth marks that can be found with each hickey.
Unknowingly, Graves had just finished deflowering the only daughter of Alejandro Vargas. His princess whom he spoiled rotten and constantly praised to his men. His daughter could do no wrong in his eyes. Alejandro unknowingly slept soundly next door as his daughter teased the commander of the Shadow Company into fucking her and filling her with his seed. The very same daughter who’s comfortably sleeping in the arms of her lover, the cum of her lover still very much inside of her.
-------
“Who’s your father?” Graves asked. You snuggled deeper into his chest; your leg was thrown over his.
“Don’t worry about it.” You groaned. “Let me sleep.” You complained as you pulled the covers back onto your body and shut your eyes.
“Give me a hint baby,” Phillip begged as he littered kisses on your forehead, trying to make you open your eyes. “I won’t be able to concentrate on my mission, all I will be able to think is who’s the unlucky man with such a fucking tease of a daughter.”
“Ponte las pilas guey.” You grumbled as you turned to face away from him, trying to get some extra minutes of sleep. Your next words left the commander uneasy. “Who’s the man that Los Vaqueros respect the most?”
You had drifted off to sleep, leaving the commander to get ready for his meeting with your father and with the two men from taskforce 141.
For the first time in a long time, Phillip Graves dreaded the day ahead of him.
------
The entire compound of Los Vaqueros was filled with shouts from Alejandro. Anybody who was in the compound when the shouting started, knew of the grave mistake that the commander of the Shadow Company had done.
“YOU FUCKED MY PRINCESA! MY DAUGHTER!” Alejandro shouted. He was being held back by Rodolpho and Ghost while Soap stood by the side and watched the interaction.
“I didn’t know she was your daughter.” Phillip reasoned. “It was an honest make. She came onto me.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are cabron? Lying to my face. My hija would do no such thing.” Alejandro shouted back. “She’s a fucking saint, an angel.”
You stood behind your father, looking down and playing with the ends of Grave’s shirt that he lent to you, listening to your lover and father argue. If only you had waited just another five minutes before leaving Phillip’s room, then perhaps you wouldn’t have crossed paths with your father who was walking down the corridor with Rodolpho, Ghost, Soap, and Graves behind him.
“With all due respect Alejandro, your daughter is the farthest thing from a saint.” Graves said, his finger pointed at you.
“I’ll fucking kill you gringo.” Alejandro shouted
“But Papi” you cried out. You were hugging your father from behind, burying your face into his back. “He promised he’ll take care of me. He’ll take care of his babies that resulted from our lovemaking.” You whined while placing your hands over your stomach.
Graves couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. You were trying to pin it all on him.
You were the devil, a fucking serpent.
You choose your words wisely, deflecting any responsibility and any of Alejandro’s anger that he had for you fell onto Graves. Making yourself seem like your father’s sweet, oblivious, and innocent princesa. Making it seem as if you fell for the lies of a white man. As if you weren’t the one eagerly spreading your legs and begging him to fill you with his cum.
Graves noticed the small smirk on your face when Alejandro continued to try and break away from the hold of the two men holding him back.
“Don’t do that. Don’t…do that. Don’t you dare lie to your father and pin this all on me. You were the one spreading your legs.” Graves shouted at you with an accusatory finger.
You pouted at his words as tears started to prick at your eyes, hugging your father from behind as you cried and muttered that the gringo had tricked you.
Los Vaqueros snickered at the commotion while the men from the Shadow Company sighed at their commander’s mistake.
You were a serpent, you lured Phillip Graves into taking a bit of your apple, and his punishment from God waits for him.
------
*Translations are not 100% accurate, some are adjusted to help translate over better*
Translations:
"preciosa princesa" (Precious princess)
"Pinche cabrones" ( fucking bastards)
"Hermano, mi princesa…protegerla de esos animales.” (Brother, my princess, protect her from these animals)
"hija" (Daughter)
"güero" (White man)( light-skinned) (blonde man)
"Papi" (father) (dad) (daddy)
"no mames" (got to be fucking kidding me)
"Gringo" (White man)
"ponte las pilas guey" ( put on the batteries dude)( use your head)
So uh... I couldn't stop thinking about this post because apparently many of us would like to be scolded by Barbatos. But a special thank you to @vinsmouke for adding a tag about him taking off his gloves slowly because my Barbatos obsession took hold of my silly little brain and refused to let go.
I don't know what this even is, I'm sorry, it seems I'm just very thirsty today and there is something about this scenario that inspired this. Listen, I don't question inspiration, I just let it take me where it will.
Barbatos x GN!MC - NSFW MDNI
Note: MC's genitals are not described, I tried to keep it gender neutral. I consider this to be an established relationship situation where consent has already been given.
Warnings: fingering, MC's wrists are restrained, Barbatos in demon form, I feel like there probably needs to be more here please let me know if I should add something
You sat on your chair and tried not to squirm. Barbatos was standing before you, a deceptive smile on his face. You knew what that smile meant. You had bratted too close to the sun.
You had been enjoying some tea and pastries at the Demon Lord's Castle one minute and found yourself in this tense situation the next. You couldn't deny that it was your own fault.
“Do you believe your behavior is appropriate, MC?” Barbatos asked, smile still in place.
"I-" you started to protest but he interrupted you.
“Please do not attempt to excuse it,” he said. You sat back in your chair, watching as he began to slowly pull his fingers out of his glove, one by one. “We have spoken about your bad behavior before. I decided on leniency then, but it is clear to me that I made an error in judgment. If you cannot conduct yourself properly…”
You swallowed as you watched him. He wasn’t looking at you, his attention fully on the methodical and deliberate way he was removing his gloves. You couldn’t look away, your hands fidgeting in your lap as you considered what may be coming next.
“…it is my responsibility to correct you,” Barbatos said, his eyes finally meeting yours as he placed his gloves on the table.
He was still smiling but the look in his eyes made you wiggle slightly in your seat. He circled around to stand behind you, letting the anticipation build up for several long moments while you waited.
And then you felt his fingers against your lips and you opened your mouth obediently. He didn’t need to tell you what to do - you closed your mouth around them and sucked.
His other hand loosened the waistband of your RAD uniform before sliding past it, his fingertips teasing along the heat between your legs. You sighed around the fingers in your mouth as he coated the tips of the other fingers in your slick.
Barbatos tutted gently in your ear. “Aroused so easily by being scolded? I may begin to think you get into trouble on purpose.”
It was a good thing you couldn’t talk, since you were sure he would see right through any lie you tried to tell about how you would never do such a thing.
You had been trying to stay still, keeping your hands beside you. But as Barbatos’s fingers began to stimulate you, you found it more and more difficult. You reached out to grasp both of his wrists desperately, moaning at the feeling of his touch.
It wasn’t long before your hands were pulled away from him, your grip broken as they were tugged behind the back of your chair. You could tell from the cool sensation now around your wrists that they were being held back by his tail.
You knew Barbatos was in demon form behind you, restraining you while he edged you, his fingers in your mouth. It caused a thrill to spike through your body, even though you couldn't see him.
It was an effort not to bite down on him and he knew it, pushing you as far as he could, waiting to see if you would lose control. His fingers moved expertly between your legs, teasing you before increasing the sensation, bringing you so close to your climax and then retreating again, but never fully letting up.
The longer this went on, the more you started to squirm until you were writhing on your chair. You strained against the tail that held your wrists, gasping against the fingers in your mouth.
Barbatos took his fingers out of your mouth abruptly and you couldn’t stop yourself from begging.
“Barbatos, please…!” you cried, body arching back against the chair.
Barbatos’s other hand went still beneath your clothes. “MC. Must I remind you this is a punishment?”
You let your head fall back on top of the chair and suddenly you could see his face. The teasing gleam in his eyes, the black of his horns nestled among the green of his hair, the longer bright teal edges tickling your cheek as he leaned forward just a little.
"Please…" you said again, knowing you were flushed with heat, that your desperation was plain on your face.
Barbatos was smiling still, but it was an amused smile rather than a dangerous one. "Your begging is sweet, my love, but it will do you no favors now. Be good and I will reward you later."
You whined as he pulled away from you. His tail released your wrists as he shifted out of demon form. You watched as he used a napkin to clean himself of you before putting his gloves back on.
Although you found yourself feeling slightly frustrated, you also knew that Barbatos was always true to his word. You could tell just from looking at his face that he fully intended to reward you later. The promise of it was enough to give you the strength to wait just a little longer.
Hear me out!! He would love to do it right after you two have sex~
Diavolo would be fucking into you from behind and rather than pulling out, he just pulls you closer and let his cock rest inside of you, insisting that you simply feel too good to pull out just yet.
One of his big hands trailing over the marks he left earlier and his other arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you still.
Whispering sweet nothings mixed with dirty praise in your ear, telling you how good it felt and how well you milked his cock.
His teeth nipping playfully at your shoulder ‘n neck, enjoying the soft whimpers you make from the over stimulation.
And!!! And! Teasing him just a bit, grinding yourself back on his cock and getting him hard again.
He won’t bother wasting time by starting to slowly thrust into you, instead simply whispering “Such a naughty little human, you just can’t get enough my cock can you?” before going another round~
Mortal Kombat Preference “Sleepy sex with them (NSFW)
(Wooo!! Back with some MK! Can’t wait to see how the new game will unfold 🤔Until then hope you can all enjoy this!! Gifs aren’t mine)
Johnny-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d somehow find a way to wake you up rather quickly, a little too excited about what he’s doing to you or by being clumsy in his actions, making you laugh regardless of your mood as you wake up. Once you’re awake, he’d still insist on it in his own way, asking you to pretend to be asleep so he could play into it and you’d both most likely end up having a silly time.
Hanzo-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d usually touch you carefully wanting you to wake up gradually and it would only happen whenever he himself wakes up aroused in the middle of the night. He’d have a habit of focusing on your pleasure more than his own at first, wanting you to want him of course and enjoying to feel your grasps reaching into his hair to keep him in place before he can tend to his own needs.
Kuai-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d be a bit shy about it feeling like it’s inappropriate despite you telling him over and over how much you actually crave it, needing quite the motivation to act up on his desires and give in. When he does finally give in, he’d be a little rough with his touch to wake you up almost in disbelief at what he’s doing only to get you right in the mood with him and actually letting you take the lead from there.
Kenshi-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d see it as a way to tease you in return especially in the dark of night and would gladly wake you up slowly by going down on you first, doing his best to be quiet and subtle. He’d purposely want to keep things in the dark so you’d experience what he does, continuing his slow pace so you’d both get caught up and eventually once it’s all done fall asleep in peace wondering if it’s all a dream.
Kano-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d be pretty shameless about it the instant you give him the green light to it, always taking advantage of it whenever you go to bed before him and leaving you waking up to him either eating you out or already pounding you. He loves the idea that you’re all his to use as he likes and for sure he doesn’t stop himself from you ever since, always ending up falling asleep by your side naked.
Fujin-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d usually approach in a more curious manner ever since you gave him the go for it, wondering how receptive you could be in your sleep or how long it takes to get you right in the mood. He’d give a try to many things from teasing you with his fingers or tongue to trying to grind himself against you and so on, always pleasantly surprise at how eager you are to feel him against you.
Raiden-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d usually push off those thoughts feeling like you need your full night’s sleep despite you giving him the consent to it, it would only ever occur if he’s in a sour mood or a needy one. When it does happen, he’d tend to be a little rough, rubbing you or going down on you a bit too eagerly to wake you up, not saying much but expecting you to follow his lead and let his animalistic side show.
Kung Lao-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, once he knows you’re into it, it seems like you’d both be more at it than usual, either you waking him up or the other way around even the both of you being half awake at times. You’d always end up giggling together from how rigorous it would get and have a hard time wanting to go back to sleep afterwards, waking up in the morning tired.
Liu Kang-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d feel a bit awkward about it despite you giving him the consent to it, usually only ever acting on it when he can’t take it anymore and has been aching for you for so long. He’d be needy in those instances waking you up hesitantly with his hands before going down on you once you’re slightly awake, ending up letting you take the lead as he wants you to both enjoy it.
Jax-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d be the type to want to wake you up gently to it after you mentioned wanting such a thing done, gladly going down on you when he gets in the mood for it. As you’d wake up clinging to him, he can’t help but get more and more riled up, being a little more needy and rough with you before you’d be full awake finally.
Erron-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d definitely take it as a challenge to make you cum in your sleep after you’d given him the consent to it, purposely taking things slow as to not wake you up suddenly. He’d love to go down on you or simply only using his fingers on you just to prove to himself how much he knows you, always getting a bit disappointed when you wake before but of course making it his new goal to edge you completely.
Kotal-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d feel a bit inappropriate despite your agreement and he’d only ever resort to it when it’s been so long without you and he feels like you’ve neglected him. He’d want to treat you right and would take things slow before it gets too much and he’d just have to be a little rougher, letting his neediness show and you waking up to him and taking the lead to show him what he’s been missing.
Quan Chi-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d enjoy using his powers to manipulate your body and pleasure to test you and see how long it takes for you to awake to your full knowledge. Once you are, he wouldn’t slow things at all if anything he keeps up with the teasing and would only ever give into if he feels like you’ve had enough, making you think about how you so easily gave him consent to this.
Baraka-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he wouldn’t understand the point of it feeling like he’d end up waking you up no matter what, hence he would usually simply wake you and touch you. He’d definitely need you to show him or simply to tease him back awake at night yourself to get the point, making him figure out how he’d want to return all that affection.
Shao Kahn-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d take advantage of it whenever he feels like when you’d give him the consent to it, gladly undressing you or simply letting you go to sleep with the lightest amount of clothes on. He’d leave you restless surely with how rough he can get and would make it a point so that you remember it the next morning.
Kabal-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d be pretty teasing and playful about it especially as you’d give him the consent to do so, he’d always find a way to mess around with you. He’d love to take his time to tease you awake before growing more and more needy and rough, matching your energy a lot of the times and more than often leaving you both tired until the morning comes where you finally lie asleep.
Shang Tsung-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d find a way to tease you loving to use his powers to rouse you from your sleep ever so slightly, gladly taking his time to enjoy the moment. He’d never give you the satisfaction of being completely satiated and would keep you on edge until he feels like it, often keeping you needy and wanton so he can have you at your most desperate.
Noob Saibot/Bi-Han-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d take full advantage of you giving him consent to it, always sliding his hands in your clothes to mess with you and have his way. He’d often do it out of habit at times teasing you to get you excited even in your sleep before deciding whether or not to use you, ending up doing so when he can’t take it anymore and needs to feel you.
Nightwolf-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d be a bit nervous about such things despite you giving him consent to it, preferring to wake you up carefully to keep up with the rest. The one time he’d indulge in it as he’d finger you and so on, he’d be stunned by your reactions and would grow aroused from you before finally giving in and feeling you wake up to him this way making hims realize how he’s been missing this for a while.
The Kollector-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d be unaccustomed to it and would definitely explore it carefully making sure all the while you were truly still asleep. He’d use all his hands at his advantage and would see how far he can take it before you wake, only to grow more possessive as you’d react in ways he’d hope for.
Rain-Whenever it comes to sleepy sex with you, he’d be playful and teasing enjoying to take his time with you and make the moment last for the rest of the night, loving to please you most. He’d love how sweet you’d come to your sense and would let him do as he pleases, letting him enjoy the moment and be able to prove to you how much you mean to him even in the dead of night.
Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)
ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!
College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.
warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI
a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!
edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.
wc: 6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice.
Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window.
So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman.
When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.
Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment.
You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.
You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara?
Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning.
On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach.
"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was…
You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying .
The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist.
"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!"
~~~
He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring.
The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.
As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask.
It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep.
Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him.
This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class. She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.
"Where's he gone?" She asks politely.
You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."
"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day.
You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.
"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."
Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it.
"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo.
"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.
You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."
A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
~~~
You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it.
After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course.
Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself.
You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall.
It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure.
It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself.
Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here.
On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video.
" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen.
What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all.
Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners.
He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you.
All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs.
" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-"
He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-
" H-Harder, Miguel, please."
He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers.
" Fuck, Miguel…"
He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall.
~~~
He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.
A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home.
And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.
Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions.
You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night.
He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy??
You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.
After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water.
With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there.
"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway.
You wince."...F-Fine?"
You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?"
You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."
Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice.
"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further.
Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together.
You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand.
" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee.
"You look… wet."
"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze.
"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed.
There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression. His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds.
Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?"
He's got a hand on your arm now, The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details.
" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy.
It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside.
"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."
"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word.
"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?"
"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."
"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"
"...I'd like that, to be honest."
"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."
"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too."
~~~
You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same.
You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way.
There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost.
It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.
Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand.
What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza?
Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal.
So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy.
“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"
You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats.
All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought.
"Yeah?"
"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-"
"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"
There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…
"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!"
With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway.
"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "
"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"
"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-"
"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.
He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips.
You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.
"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you.
His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand.
"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close.
You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.
"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile.
"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side.
"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."
His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.
"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular.
He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?"
"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it.
He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty.
"Huh. I guess they do."
"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"
"Katie." He hums.
"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name.
You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch.
"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ."
Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest.
"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-"
"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."
Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own.
"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.
Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?
"...and I heard you say my name."
"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing.
"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-"
He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"
A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."
"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."
He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together.
He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest.
It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts.
"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."
You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck.
He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum.
Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth.
Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin.
"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt..
"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara.
"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.
He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"
Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"
He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?"
You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."
"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?"
It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction.
"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach.
You mumble something begrudgingly.
"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."
Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel."
Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."
Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth.
He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.
And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue.
And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole.
"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue.
You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off.
"Right there, fuck… "
Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily.
You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him.
"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him.
"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs.
Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck.
"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."
His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."
You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should.
"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head.
"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."
You certainly don’t want to know how long this… THING took me !
I started like 3 month ago and then some unwanted bs came into my life and I never had the time to properly finish this.. so if they are some grammatical errors or some changes in the style it is normal !
Now uhh….. to follow the right way for the boxes well look behind them I put a black line ( yeah I f*cked up the order ok please don’t murder me) but it reads itself from left to right normally but the priority is to look behind the boxes please !
｡･* +18. 497 wc. afab!reader. dom!miguel. size k. belly bulge.
there’s no doubt that miguel is significantly bigger than most people, much bigger than you, significantly. when you two first met, he was really nervous about the size difference, constantly hesitating to touch you and always asking if you were ok with his rough touch, but as soon as you started dating he realized the size difference between you two was a huge turn on for you, and it was like a flip switched on his head.
since then, he does anything he can do to show off his size. one of his favorite things was man-handling you and fucking you in every position he could twist your body into. he loved watching the way you shook under him from the pressure of his thick and long cock inside of you. sometimes just feeling the touch of his hands on your tits was enough to make you cum.
miguel had you all in fours when he found out about this particular thing that made his size kink take over his entire mind. your face and chest were pressed into the mattress and your back was arched in the most delicious way while he thrusted into your from behind.
you were whining and whimpering into the pillow, gripping it so tightly he thought it was going to tear. miguel’s hand was planted on the pillow beside your head and the other held your hip so he could push into your pussy slowly and let you feel all of his girth.
he smiled to himself when you somehow made your back arch even more, pushing back into him. he pinched the meat of your hip and you knew he was smiling as he said “con calma, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
of course you didn’t care, so you wiggled slightly and pushed your hip back into his. matching his thrusts, he almost lost control, but leaned forward to bite your shoulder, “how ‘bout i play with that little clit, hm?” his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
all you could do was nod, your mind already foggy from the feeling of him in and around you. he leaned back up and slid his big hand around your waist to toy with your clit, but when he felt a little bump under his hand on top of your belly he stopped for a minute, then ran his hand over it again but this time he gave a shallow thrust.
in that moment he felt an intense fire cover his body as he placed both hands on your hips, with his head thrown back in pleasure, he cursed as he pulled your hips back to meet his thrusts, then leaned over to feel himself bulging out of your tummy again.
miguel thrusted faster and he smiled proudly as he listened to the desperate moans spilling from your mouth. “that feels good, yeah?” he used his fingertips to add a little pressure to the bump, then felt you clench around him.
your hand shot down to cover his and you could feel what he was pressing into even better.
“tan pequeña…” he mumbled to himself, “apenas puedes tomarme, muñequita…”
you whined in response, feeling the pressure build up inside of you faster than it has before. he could feel it too, he knew you were close and he’d be lying is he said he wasn’t dangerously on the edge in that moment.
“oh, mi amor, already?” he teased.
you moaned and nodded and his hips got faster until you were both moaning and cumming at the same time.
miguel barely let you come down from your high before he was flipping you over and pushing your ankles up to his shoulders, getting ready to fuck you senseless.
“quiero verte desde aquí, preciosa” he said before folding your body in half to press a kiss to your lips, then sliding back into your soaping cunt with ease.
translations:
“con calma”: take it easy.
“tan pequeña…, apenas puedes tomarme, muñequita”: so small… you can barely take me, little doll.
“oh, mi amor”: oh, my love.
“quiero verte desde aquí, preciosa”: i wanna see you from here, beautiful.
it pains me to see absolutely nothing of ego's smut so im taking one for the team. my first post.
thinking about ego jinpachi who LOVES to have you on your knees, hiding under the screen, giving him head. it sends shivers down his spine, to have such indecent act done to him without any of the players knowing.
when he finally introduced you to the blue lock boys (just so he can have you sit on his lap warming his dick), "you'd see her face frequently from now on," and so he did set you up on his lap, ignoring the annoyed look, some even rolling their eyes of the boys. originally, he's not going to let that slide, but his dick is in deep inside your pussy right now, he feels too good to care.
god, your insides feels so good and the stares from his dear players are making him reach his high quick, while you are trying your best not to let out a moan. the look on your face makes him want to bend you over his desk and fucks you into oblivion but holds back for the sake of morality. he can't let his players see him breaking your back now, does he?
but you best believe he will manhandle you and pounds into your insides like a madman once he's done spouting bullshit to them blue lock boys.
Warning: contains smut if that ain’t clear, cunnilingus, degrading, rough oral
A/N: the brainrot is real for just about fucking everyone rn. While we all are waiting for smut to come up - I know me and a Muzanswaifu both have full length fics planned — I offer you my favorite headcanon posts to make
Art credit: unknown. I even reversed image searched and couldn’t find the artist so if you know who made this, plz let me know
Sekido
He’s rough, annoyed even as his hands grip your thighs with such force your certain his nails will make you bleed. He complains the whole time, bitching at you about how needy you are, how pathetic you are, how horny you are. Yet he’s on his knees anyway, eating you out with such force that you’re struggling to see straight. He takes few breaks, only pulling away to mutter things about how filthy you are. He isn’t satisfied with just one orgasm either, working you through four is the bare minimum for him. He’s heavily addicted to the taste of your arousal, unwilling to admit verbally that he craves it. He loves watching tears streak your face as he tongue fucks you, purposely ignoring your clit until full sobs are rattling your chest. “You’re never fucking satisfied you little bitch.”
Karaku
He takes his time. He’ll never complain when you ask him to eat you out, gladly falling to his knees right then and there. The reason he never complains is because he will take his fucking time. He’ll edge you until you’re sopping wet, arousal sticking to your thighs and his chin as he wiggles his tongue against your clit. Your begging falls on deaf ears, nothing you do will speed him up nor allow you release. Karaku will keep you hanging on the edge for hours, until you’re sobbing and begging, clit throbbing as he resorts to fucking you with his tongue. He’ll let you cum after a long while, but he’ll make sure it’s unsatisfactory, stopping his actions the moment your thighs tense a little too tightly. Letting your release fizzle out as fat globs of tears slide down your face, arousal collecting at your entrance “It’s alright, we can just keep going…”
Aizetsu
He’ll eat you out like his life depends on it, moaning against your cunt as he tongue fucks you. He requires praise, you must tell him how good he’s doing or he’ll get self conscious and stop. Though it’s just a bit hard for him to stop in the first place, your arousal is like a delicacy to him. He wants your cunt all of the time, head always dipping between your thighs to get a taste of what he wants the most. He’s selfish in that sense but nothing like the others. He won’t hold back, he won’t edge you until you’re crying or overstimulate you until you are begging for him to stop. He’ll give you exactly what you want, tongue practically vibrating against your clit as he moans about how good you taste. His hands will always be on your thighs, keeping them spread wide so he has easy access to you, mouth and chin shining with your arousal. “Tell me how good I’m doing… please…”
Urogi
Eating you out is a game to him. He’ll find whatever means necessary to get you to allow him even a small taste. Though it’s hard not to give in when he’s telling you so loudly how well he could eat you out. He loves to spread your thighs open, stare at your glistening cunt and tell you how cute it is. He’ll practically suffocate himself on you, lips suctioned to your throbbing clit as his claws drag along the sensitive flesh of your thighs. He’s an overachiever, not willing to leave your pussy alone until you’ve sprayed your arousal all over him. He wants you squirming, trying to move away from his mouth because you’re so overly sensitive from the amount of times he’s made you cum. He’ll praise you each time you squirt but express disappointment when you don’t, even if you’ve come he views it as losing the little game he’s playing. “I know you can do it, you’ve done it three times already… don’t make me lose.”
1. It helps people who have a low sense of self-worth and makes them see themselves through the eyes of someone who would stick by them no matter what.
2. It’s a valid form of self-love.
3. People can use it as a coping method (example: someone still living in an abusive household and are unable to escape so they take solace in their favorite fictional world), or as a simple comfort method.
4. It can literally save lives.
5. There is no risk of infidelity, heartbreak, or even abuse and venereal diseases.
6. People can be legitimately attracted to fictional characters.
7. There’s no obligation to disregard your own feelings just to keep them happy or sacrifice important ambitions to stay with them.
8. Some people use the idea that their fave will be proud of them if they reach a certain goal as motivation.
9. For some people, self-shipping can help them find themselves.
10. It’s 100% harmless.
Oh, and contrary to what antis believe, self-shippers actually CAN distinguish reality from fiction, so miss us with that tired old argument.
AN: I’m so sorry this has taken so long to get out. I sped through the first part and when it came down to the smut I sort of avoided it for weeks.
The past few days had been eventful. Erratic, horrible, mortifying. But now, all was well (for the time being). It was finally time for you all to rest and calm down— it felt strange not having someone on guard at all times. You were picked up by Agent Stinson, and she profusely insisted that you all shower and get a good night's sleep before it was time for Hopper and Joyce to reunite with their kids. No one really knew what to do with Yuri, so he was put under Murray’s supervision (again).
Only the best hotel was chosen for the six of you. Yuri and Murray in one room, you and Joyce in another, and Hopper and Dmitri in the last. With it being such a short notice, the only hotel rooms were double beds— and it humoured you and Joyce just thinking about the awkwardness between the men.
Greedily, Yuri, Murray and Joyce called the first shower. You couldn’t be annoyed knowing you’d have more time than them in the shower.
“I can’t wait to wash my hair… and shave… and moisturise!” You dramatically grin, flaunting yourself over Dmitri’s lap. He’s sitting on his bed with you, Hopper is sitting next to Dmitri, leaning against the headboard.
Hopper nudges Dmitri, flashing him a devilish grin. It’d been their form of entertainment over the past few days— bonding over their attraction for you.
“Keep it in your pants,” Dmitri whispers over to Hopper.
Abruptly, you stand up and wander over to the huge bucket of clothes Stinson gave you all. You fish out a t-shirt with a cringey slogan, taking it as your pyjamas. There’s a red fabric peeking out under a pair of jeans, and curiosity gets the best of you.
Hopper almost winds himself when you squeal, he jolts upwards in shock.
You throw it over at Dmitri— and Hopper knowingly chuckles. “Shit, Antonov. Is that what you’re gonna wear to bed tonight?”
“Shut it, American.” He warns, picking the red thong from his lap and tossing it back to you. “We’d much rather see it on you, gorgeous.”
It takes all of your inner strength to stop yourself from turning into a blushing mess. Two can play at that game. “Who knew you were such a flirt, Dmitri? Maybe I’ll have to pay you a visit tonight…”
“Woah, woah,” Hopper chimes in. “I’m here too, sweetheart.”
“Hmmm, maybe I can convince Joyce to give you a surprise,” you playfully tease with a wink.
“Who said anything about Joyce?” Hopper retorts, all amusement stripped from his voice.
“Wow, I knew Dmitri was bad but you too James?” You giggle, emphasising his real name. He groans in annoyance, running a hand down his face.
“Oh my bad. We’re not at that level yet,” you wink.
Hopper opens his mouth to, without-a-doubt, berate you— but Joyce peeks her head through the door.
“Bathrooms free,” she says with a smile, drying her hair with a towel.
“See you later, boys,” you tease, picking up the t-shirt, the thong and a pair of shorts.
Once you’re out of the room, Dmitri speaks up. “Think you can swap rooms with her?”
“Definitely fuckin’ not. I want her too,” Hopper confesses and Dmitri hums like he’s well-aware of the statement.
“What about Joyce?” Dmitri can’t help but ask.
“What about her?”
There’s a selection of everything in the shower. High end shampoo and conditioner, hair mousse, strawberry scented body wash, a razor and moisturiser. It’s a perfect reward for being left dirty and unwashed for days in Russia. And as an extra, the hot water felt heavenly on your skin. You were sure the sexual banter with Hopper and Dmitri was just talk, but just in case— you shave everywhere.
After putting your clothes on, including the red thong, you go and find everyone. Your feet pad against the hallway floor, cold air flying to your bare legs. The shorts you picked out barely even showed, due to the oversized t-shirt you wore that probably should have been left for Hopper.
All rooms are empty, except for Hopper and Dmitri’s. When you enter, everyone is sitting on the bed, Yuri shuffling a deck of cards. Dmitri is missing— but not for long. The radio is playing lowly as you scan your eyes for the missing member of your group. Just as you shut the door, their en-suite bathroom door opens and Dmitri is walking out. He’s shirtless, water drips down his chest and abdomen, and there’s a towel around his waist. You feel your heart beat faster at the sight, you feel something erupt in your chest— like butterflies. You can’t help but ogle him in desire—
“Oooh! Love is in the air!” Yuri cackles, firmly pointing at you. Joyce and Murray look over and loudly laugh at the embarrassed look on your face— you’re mortified that you’ve been caught staring at Dmitri. He only flashes you a shy grin, putting a shirt on and coaxing you over to the bed.
The six of you played card games for what felt like hours. Yuri wanted something on the line, like money or drinks, but Joyce dismissed him like a naughty child. He didn’t step out of line after that.
With a yawn, Joyce gets up first. “I’m gonna hit the hay,” she says. Not long after, Yuri and Murray trot down the hallway to their shared room.
Dmitri didn’t want to say anything in front of the group, but he deems now a good time to tease you.
“Liked what you saw earlier, huh?” He asks, voice horse and accent as strong as ever. He’s grinning, leaning forwards towards you as if to say ‘my attention is all yours.’ Hopper continues to shuffle the cards, watching the scene play before him with a smug smirk.
“I just happened to glance over and then—“
“‘Glance’, sweetheart? You were drooling!” Hopper chuckles, noticing your cheeks flush red.
“Aw, she’s getting flustered now, aren’t you?” Dmitri sheepishly mumbles.
“Please can we change the subject?” You whine, shielding your face with your hands to ease the embarrassment.
“…I know. Let’s play strip poker,” Hopper proposes. Dmitri laughs loudly, agreeing.
You’re sceptical, “I don’t really know how to play poker…”
“Even better then,” Dmitri teases, poking your side. You playfully push him away, he’s still laughing. “What about blackjack then? Lowest or highest number strips.”
Hopper hums in agreement, both pairs of eyes loiter on you, waiting for a response. Finally, you sigh and nod. Dmitri can’t help but grin, rubbing his hands together like he’s about to start some drama.
Dmitri grabs a bottle of liquor from the cabinet tucked in the room, something he’d had his eyes on since he walked in. He’d been monitoring it with Yuri around, but he’d been only co-operative. He pours you drinks, insisting that you all drink beforehand to soothe the uncomfort.
Finally, you feel tipsy. Suddenly the radio captures your attention and your body is subconsciously swaying to the music.
“We’ll make this a fair game, yes? We wear three pieces of clothing: shirt, bottoms and underwear.” Dmitri starts and you hum in response. Then, he sits on the bed next to you and begins to shuffle the cards.
Ten minutes later, you’re all sucked right into the game. You’re missing your shorts, Dmitri is missing his jeans and Hopper is missing his shirt and his pants. Your heart aches at the sight of Hopper and how much weight he’s lost, but he looks happy with it and you know he would rather not talk about it.
You grin when you draw a 19. But surprisingly, no one else seems phased. You all decide to stick, presenting your cards to each other.
Hopper gets a 20, Dmitri gets 21. You groan, ignoring their laughs— you were the first to actually show something. You slip the thong off, your shirt covers your modesty. They mumble in annoyance, but you swatch their hands away and continue with the game.
“Wanna sit on my lap?” Dmitri asks.
“Or mine?” Hopper adds.
“Whoever wins this round can have me on their lap,” you say with a giggle.
“And if you win?” Dmitri asks.
“Then I get to stay right here and ogle.”
Hopper draws a 20, you draw a 23 with a dramatic groan and Dmitri draws an 18.
“Lucky bastard,” Dmitri mumbles.
Hopper pats his lap, you plop yourself eagerly onto his huge thighs.
“Ah ah sweetheart. Think you’re forgetting something.” Dmitri rumbles, sending heat straight to your core.
“Yeah you lost the round… still need to take this off,” Hopper whispers in your ear, hands pawing at your shirt.
You roll your eyes, taking the shirt off.
“ебать (fuck)…” Dmitri whispers under his breath.
“This is kind of backfiring on us, huh?” Hopper chuckles. “It’s taking all of my strength to not touch her…”
“Finish the game and then maybe you can touch…” you tease. Dmitris eyes light up, and you feel Hopper go rigid underneath you. “Winner gets to do whatever they want to me.”
“The stakes have been heightened,” Hopper grins. The next round, Dmitri loses. Him and Hopper are only in their underwear as he strips his t-shirt.
“Last game,” you say, getting up off of Hopper’s lap. You lean against the dresser, sticking your ass out and arching your back. Their eyes are trained on you, watching you seductively roll your hips. You playfully turn the music up, taking a swig of the tequila on the table. You’ve completely captured their attention — their eyes follow you when you sit on the bed with them. You shuffle the deck of cards, dealing them both two cards.
You analyse their faces, Dmitri’s lips twitch up and Hopper stays neutral. Dmitri sticks, leaving Hopper to gamble. When he picks up the card, he’s instantly grinning.
“Hope you have fun sleeping in the dog house, American,” Dmitri teases with a grin, flipping his cards over to reveal an ace and a ten.
“Hm?” Hopper nonchalantly replies, revealing his cards also. He has a seven, a nine, and a five — leaving them both with twenty one.
“Oh,” you realise, lips curling into a mischievous grin. “I think that means you can both play with me…”
“Well shit, sweetheart,” Hopper starts playfully. “You’re in for it now.”
“You asked for it, I hope you won’t run back on your word,” Dmitri says with his brows expectantly raised. He’s waiting for you to object, refuse, but nothing but a giggle leaves your lips. He stands up, pulling you up towards him. He pulls you into his arms, his hands sliding down your back which eventually fondle your ass. He looks down at you, his hot breath tickles your nose and his lust-blown eyes intimidate you. A presence behind you brushes against your skin, then the large body presses flush against your back.
Dmitri’s hands are adventurous and confident, whereas Hopper is slow and intimate. Hopper’s thick fingers tickle your pelvic bone, touching the bare area between your abdomen and your private areas. Then, you feel his stubble roughly rub against your neck. Your attention alternates between the two men — Dmitri would capture your attention by squeezing your ass a little too hard, Hopper would steal it by kissing your shoulder or trailing his fingers a little too far down.
Eventually, your attention is settled on the man in front of you. Your eyes fall to his poor, neglected lips and you desperately want to kiss him, shower him with attention just like you dreamed of doing ever since you heard him speak. You were attracted to both men, of course, but Dmitri was available and in closer reaching distance than Hopper. You never thought Hopper would be willing to do this considering his feelings for Joyce, but you were mistaken. He’d been wanting this as much as you.
“Kiss me,” you ask Dmitri, and he doesn’t hesitate to oblige. The kiss deepens, and you know Hopper’s beginning to feel left out when his hands abruptly cup your breasts. You pull away from Dmitri, a string of saliva conjoining the two of you together. Your head turns to the side, and Hopper’s lips are waiting for you. Lips latch onto your neck whilst you make out with Hopper now. Hopper is more sloppy, equally as good a kisser, but Dmitri was careful and precise with his lips — whereas Hopper is enthusiastically pushing his tongue into your mouth at the first given chance. Finally, a move is made:
“Let me have her first, American,” Dmitri groans, clothed cock rubbing against your thigh. He’s hard, painfully so, and clearly pent up with the way he was rutting against your bare skin.
“Hold your fuckin’ horses,” Hopper replies through the kiss, causing wet sounds to escape through parts of his dialogue. “Who do you want first, baby?”
“You know I can’t make a decision like that,” you say with a pout, and he nods like he’d been expecting that answer. “There’s a reason why I have a mouth and a—“ you cut yourself off, a grin forming on your face.
“You’re fuckin’ right, sweetheart.” Says Hopper.
Dmitri’s fingers tilt your jaw back to face him, and his lips capture yours once again. “Mmm, been waiting for this for too long,” Dmitri mumbles. You manage a breathily ‘yeah?’ through the kiss and he hums in clarification. “How do you want to do this, American?”
“You get her pussy, I’ll have her mouth,” he announces.
“Fine by me,” Dmitri agrees and you whine. “Sound good?” He asks you and you nod.
Immediately, Hopper sits on the couch and pulls you by the hips there with him. He sort of just looks at you for a moment, deciding which approach to take towards you. Fisting your hair, he abruptly pulls you to his mouth. The kiss is hot and heavy, his tongue plunges its way into yours. Dmitri watches, hands instinctively palming the ache in his boxers before he finally situates himself behind you. You’re on your hands and knees, kissing Hopper as your hand paws at his crotch. Dmitri’s eyes fall to your ass, your glistening pussy which is on perfect display for him.
“Jerk me off,” Hopper mumbles through the kiss and you nod. Your fingers wrap around his bulge in his boxers, squeezing and pumping. You hear him sigh in pleasure and you can’t help but smile. His eyes find yours, and you both just stare at each other for a moment. The silence in the room is erotically-charged, before fingers prodding at your entrance makes you yelp in surprise.
“Sorry, princess,” Dmitri chuckles. His middle and ring finger rub your clit in circles, he relieves his sore cock by lightly grinding against your ass. Dmitri’s pace of his fingers help you jerk Hopper off. You take him out of his boxers, slowly pumping him the same speed as Dmitri touches you. When his two fingers push inside of your hole, you can’t help but roll your hips in desperation. The feeling of his fingers inside of you burned, in such a euphoric way - you felt every hypersensitive curl of his fingers, every twitch, every pump. You felt him stretching you open, preparing you for himself.
“You like his fingers inside you, baby?” Hopper teases, his hand roughly grasps your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“Yes,” you breathe out, “feels so good.”
“It’s been so long, hasn’t it, American?” Dmitri chuckles, a squelching sound filling the room. Hopper hums in agreement.
Your back arches, causing your hole to tighten around Dmitri’s fingers.
“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he rumbles. His fingers pull out of you, and it’s not long before you feel something rubbing down your slick pussy. This ‘something’ pushes at your entrance, it’s so much thicker than his fingers. You whine, head dipping down into Hopper’s lap as the oh-so familiar burning sensation of him stretching you out reoccurs.
“F-fuck,” you stutter out, mumbling into Hopper’s bare thigh. Hopper’s grinning when you look up at him, when Dmitri is fully inside of you.
“Well well, baby. You gonna use that mouth of yours to get me off?” Hopper rumbles, your hand on his chest feels the rumble of his gruff voice. You nod, immediately dipping down to get a taste of him. You open-mouthed kiss his raging head, feeling the moisture on your tongue. His head falls back, a sigh erupts from his lips and god— he looks like a fucking model. Dmitri slowly grinds into you, he’s waiting for you to get started on Hopper before he really begins to take what he’s wanted for months. “Don’t tease,” he snarls, teeth gritting and nose furiously pumping out air.
Taking him fully in your mouth is harder than it seems. He’s too long, too thick for you to comfortably suck — so it takes a whole lot more effort. You listened to him, not teasing and instantly getting on with it. He’s rock hard in your hand, wet, throbbing and starved.
The atmosphere alters quickly. Dmitri starts to speed up, your fist around Jim’s cock tightens, your mouth bobs up and down so much faster. The bulge in your cheek relentlessly nudges against the fleshy muscle, and Hopper groans when he notices it. His fingers wrap around your hair, pulling it away from your face. With his free hand, he caresses your cheek using his thumb. “So fucking pretty,” he grunts. “This is what you wanted, yeah? Getting fuckin’ pounded by one of us, suckin’ off the other? My, my, Antonov. I think we’ve been—“ he moans, “seduced.”
“This doll is behind it all?” Dmitri breathily replies, a sheen of moisture on his forehead. He pulls your hair from Hopper’s hand, lifting your head off Jim’s cock. “This cute face has seduced us?” He taunts. Your eyes open, meeting Hopper’s grinning face as Dmitri slams into you. The noises coming out of your mouth are involuntary now, you can’t control them, you weren’t aware you were even making them.
“Come on, honey,” Hopper soothes you. He firmly pats your cheek, “back to it. I’m almost close,” he says.
Your hair is let go, you feel two firm hands on your lower back. One occasionally spanks your ass, loud and firmly. You’re oh-so-desperately pumping Jim’s cock, taking him as deep as you can in your mouth. You feel him twitch and throb whenever you do something unexpected, and you feel you’re one step closer at cracking him.
“God, keep doing that and I’ma fuckin’ come,” Hopper groans. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself.
“Come on, big man. Take one for the team,” Dmitri whines from behind you. Only those two could turn fucking you into a competition.
“Shit, I will. I fuckin’ will,” his lower jaw collides with his top lip. “You ready for my cum, baby? You gonna eat it all?” He teases and you moan. The vibration of your voice pushes him over the edge and, before you know it, Dmitri leans forward to fist your hair. Your head is pulled up again, and shots of salty white spurt onto your face. You catch most of it on your tongue, swallowing as much as you can manage.
Russian is spewed from Dmitri’s mouth, and his cock is slapping against your slick folds. It pushes you over the edge, and you cum the same time as him.
Lights and spirits fade as you’re pulled into Hopper’s chest. Dmitri sits on the sofa next to him, chest heaving, but a wicked smile plastered on his face. He says nothing, only exchanging cheeky glances with Jim.
You wake up tangled between both men, in utter darkness. You shift slightly, and Hopper jolts up. When he realises it’s you that’s touching him, he relaxes.
“You okay?” He asks in a croaky, tired voice.
“Yeah,” you softly reply. You coax him to lay down again with you, his arm wraps around you and you’re pulled into his chest like a magnet. “Are you?”
“Yeah. Just not used to… safety yet, I guess.” He mumbles.
“Me too,” you reply. You hear his heartbeat and Dmitri’s quiet snores, you relish in the peace for a moment. “I should probably get back to my room,” you speak up.
“No, I’ll go. You stay with Antonov,” he reasons, and you barely protest.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, Joyce won’t mind,” he replies.
“Thank you.”
He only nods in the darkness before climbing out of bed.
“Hopper,” you grab his arm. He’s got a handful of his clothes, but he puts them on the bed to give you his full attention. “Jim,” you correct yourself. “Will you kiss me before you go?”
He doesn’t reply. You feel his breath on your face, and you know he’s leaning in to kiss you. It’s sweet, wet, full of desire and respect. It goes no further than a kiss, but it means so much.
“See you in the morning,” he says.
Light pools in as the door cracks open, but it’s quickly roped back into the hallway as the door clicks shut. You don’t remember much after that, despite strong arms encasing your body the whole night.
Dmitri treats you like a princess — like he’s playing his and filling in for Hopper’s place. He fucks you slow and lazy in the morning, he makes you cum using his fingers as morning light illuminates the room. His hands don’t leave your body, his sentences revolve solely around you, his thoughts are trained only on you. Dmitri is yours, he’s who you want to marry. He’s who you want to kiss, to wake up every morning next to, to share your life with. Hopper wants that with Joyce, and you’re all aware and okay with that.
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