Latest Posts by eatingyouryoung - Page 4

Take a seat || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: Never in your wildest dream did you imagine having your husband ask you to sit on his face.

Tags: Face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, smut, NOT BETA READ.

Words: 1.2k

saw someone plead for this one lmao. They asked so nicely so I delivered, idk if this is how it usually goes tbh. This shit's so rushed but I guess I have to squeeze everything out before school starts again tomorrow aaaaaaaaaa

other than that, enjoy! Thank you all for your love on my fics aaaaaaaaaa im running out of header pics da;flkhwah

mi vida - my life || dios mio - my god || mi bella esposa - my beautiful wife || cariño - honey

“You want me to do what now?”

Miguel sighed exasperatedly as he facepalmed, embarrassed. “Don’t make me repeat mys—”

“No no no, I heard you loud and clear.” Which doesn’t mean you understand why all of a sudden. “But why?”

“Should I have any reason why I want you to sit on my face?”

In a gazillion universe, you’d never thought you’d hear those words come out of his lips. Sitting on his lap, you stared at the man incredulously to which he scowled at.

Usually, oral between you both are usually done with you underneath him as he pinned your thighs open and wide for him since he likes the control. To hear him ask you to sit on his face mid-foreplay shocked you.

You pinched your thigh, unconvinced by his sudden change of mind and Miguel sighed once more.

“Is it that hard to believe, mi vida? Dios mio, if you don’t want to do it, just say it—”

“No no no, lay back down, I’m just processing.”

Excitement thrummed madly in your veins as you pushed the man back into the mattress. Excitement got you removing your underwear in a second before sitting back on his chest. It’s not fast enough apparently, when his strong arms hook under your legs and pull you directly on top of his lips.

Your breath got stuck into your throat. The mere feeling of his hot breath on your skin caused ripples of heat from your abdomen to your fingertips. You’ve always had orals before, it was something he’d never forget, yet there was something about sitting on top of his face that got you aroused more than ever.

“Go any slower and I would’ve thought you’d want to back out.”

“Not my fault. You’re so impatient.”

“A pretty girl sat on top of me, naked and wet, begging to be devoured. Do you think I’d ignore you, mi bella esposa?”

His dark voice, along with his fogged red eyes staring at you through his eyelash sent shivers down your spine, cheeks flushing beet red. You almost slapped the growing smirk off of his face at your flustered state.

“You’re so annoying.”

“And you smell absolutely delicious.”

His arms locked around your thighs and you immediately knew you were done.

His tongue felt like silk gliding through your folds before rolling your clit in figures of eight. You sighed, throwing your head back as pleasure slithered down your spine at his every exhale fanning your skin. 

There was something about the stings his stubbles brings as it scratches your skin along with the stimulation of his tongue that drive you crazy. 

You swear you’re not a masochist by any means, yet when it comes to Miguel, every joy, sadness, pain and pleasure felt like a reward from the high heavens that you couldn’t help but accept with gratitude.

Your hand found stability in his dark locks, pulling and tugging his head closer to your heat, causing him to groan, the vibration seeping into your bones.

His hands roamed your body as if desperate to find a treasure in the unknown, nails dragging the skin from your back and down to the globes of your ass. The sting they left in their wake stirs your nerves awake, the pain mixing in with pleasure. You sighed, falling to lean on the piles of pillows as you dragged your clit with the point of his tongue.

Miguel wandered lower, tongue rolling around the rim of your entrance, sending electric jolts down your legs. You shivered as the sensation of his fangs rubbing against your folds, always so close yet so far away.

You gasped when the appendage plunged into your entrance, his large nose pushing into your clit as he pulled you closer to his face.

“Fuck…!”

“You taste divine, cariño.” He groaned. “Give me more.”

Bringing his hand down hard onto your ass, you whined. The stinging pain it left had your body singing for more and you knew Miguel was aware of the effect it has on you with how hard you clench on his silky appendage.

“Move.”

“Huh?”

Another sharp slap echoed in the living room, harder than the one earlier and you cried, hips stuttering forward on his flattened tongue.

“Ride me, cariño. Like you’ve always wanted.”

And you swear you’ve never heard anything more romantic than that.

With a smidge of hesitance, fearing you’d suffocate him, you rolled yourself on his tongue, eyes locked onto his darkened ones that dripped with desire. Still unsatisfied, his hand lands another hit on your skin and you move more desperately against him.

You cry as he starts to pick up the pace of his tongue, putting pressure onto your bead and shaking his head aggressively underneath you. He swats you once more when your hips stutter from the stimulation before clawing your flesh and grounding you further into his mouth.

“Harder.”

“I’m trying—Ah!”

Sneaking a hand below, he immediately inserts two digits inside of you. He spared no time hastening the speed of his thrusts while licking enthusiastically onto your clit making your eyes roll back.

Chasing the pleasure his fingers and mouth offered you, your hips rolled uncontrollably against his face. The obscene squelch echoing in the room would have embarrassed you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to flush.

The tight knot in your abdomen tightens as heat explodes from your chest and reaches down the tips of your limbs. You couldn’t do anything but cry as you tether closer to nirvana.

“I-I’m close.”

“Come for me, mi vida. Give it to me. I want it all.”

With his grounding arm reaching up to rake through your back along with his fingers and tongue, the knot unfurls and you come with a cry. 

Suddenly, he had both arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from fluttering away from his ministrations. You gasped and pushed at his head but he paid no heed to them, rolling and shaking his tongue onto your clit as if trying to coax another climax from you.

“Miguel…!”

His nails digging into your flesh was the only answer you received and maybe the tug on his lips at your trembling thighs as well. It didn’t take long before pain started to blur with pleasure and your hips rocked against his tongue despite the protest of your heat with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding on for dear life onto the headboard.

You didn’t have the mind to worry about his nose being blocked by your mon pubis, focused solely on your orgasm. With how he ground your hips onto his lips, you knew he didn’t mind.

And with a weak shout, you unravel, flesh and bones, on top of him. There’s a sound of something breaking in the haze, but paid no heed to it as you fall bonelessly onto the mattress. Miguel pulls away, gasping for air just as you turn to face the ceiling.

Your arousal drenching his face evoked something feral within you, the simmering desire in your stomach stirring awake once more. His eyes turned to the headboard and chuckled, reaching over to run his fingers over the dent with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I guess a Spider-Man will always be a Spider-Man.”

“Oh shut up.” You groaned, chucking a pillow on his face.

claws require brain power

Some messy dorito shaped Geto sketches inspired by this one tweet 👀

I had to add tattoos because...yes this is very self-indulgent

Who took the bomp from the bompalompalomp? Who took the ram from the ramalamading-dong? Spider-Punk by Pétra

Hiking vacation with boyfie Sukuna

Pairing: modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Warnings: 18+, lots of fluff and some smut, outdoor sex, praise. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don’t interact. This is super self-indulgent because I am on vacation atm and I can’t stop thinking about Kuna being here with me aaahhhh!!! ♥️

Being on a hiking vacation with your boyfriend Sukuna would include:

+ Holding hands with him the whole time during your hiking tours. Or he has one arm around your waist and his hand in your back pocket.

+ He looks so hot in his muscle shirt and hiking shorts and boots, showing his muscular arms and calves and his sexy tattoos.

+ He is so tall and so strong next to you, making you feel so safe and get butterflies just from looking at him.

+ His sexy smirk when he offers his hand to help you climb over a fallen tree or a slippery rock.

+ When he drinks water out of his bottle, looking so sexy when some droplets run down his chin, and you see his Adam’s apple bop enticingly.

+ He hands you the bottle afterward, always insisting you drink something too, even when you complain because you aren’t thirsty. His satisfied smirk, when you take a sip anyway, making him look so smug that you roll your eyes and have to get on your tiptoes to kiss that grin off him.

+ Sukuna always walks on the side of the hiking trail where the slope is. Swapping places with you by wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you to the other side so he can take the more dangerous path. Making you smile because he is so protective.

+ When he smirks and puts a finger under your chin, and tilts your face up so he can slowly lean closer and kiss you. Making your heart race because you can feel his smile during the kiss, and it’s so sexy.

+ Long, slow tongue kisses while he holds you close.

+ Taking selfies where Sukuna stands behind you, tall and buff, hugging you tightly from behind and winking at the camera while he presses a kiss to your neck.

+ Sukuna laughing about the weird looks he sometimes gets from older people because of his face tattoos.

+ Sukuna giving your hand a gentle squeeze and leaning down to murmur in your ear how happy you make him. Telling you that he used to make fun of people who went hiking with their special someone, calling them boring. But now he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

+ Sukuna being so grateful for you and the life you give him. Thanking you for the way you love him. Being so smitten with how soft you are with him. Telling you in such a tender voice how deeply in love he is with you and that he wants this forever.

+ Strolling through town in the evenings after you return from your hike of the day, looking like the biggest lovebirds when you hold hands and laugh together about all the stupid little jokes you make and the shit-talking Sukuna does about all the other people.

+ Holding hands on the table during your dinner dates and only having eyes for each other. Deep, meaningful glances into each other’s eyes and lots of flirting. Sukuna leaning across the table to kiss you and tease you affectionately about giving him such hearteyes.

+ Riding him on your hotel bed later on, basking in the way he moans beneath you. And when your legs are sore from walking all day, Sukuna helps you ride him, lifting you up and down on his cock while he tells you how good you are for him, watching your face the whole time because he loves seeing how cute you look when you cum on his cock.

+ Going on a two-day hike with him and spending the night in a beautiful meadow in the mountains. Lying on a picnic blanket to watch the night sky, your fingers intertwined with Sukuna’s, your head resting comfortably on his chest.

+ Talking softly to each other and sharing slow kisses that gradually grow more intense.

+ Sukuna rolling on top of you, deepening your kisses and slowly undressing you, covering you with his tall, muscular body to keep you warm even in the chilly night air of the mountains.

+ Your naked bodies moving against each other, lips and tongues caressing as you gasp into each other’s mouths. Sukuna loving you with his hands and lips while you stroke his hard cock, until both of you can’t take it anymore and need more of each other.

+ Making love under the stars. Your hands in Sukuna’s pink hair and your legs around his waist, hearing his low moans against your ear, feeling him roll his hips into you, fucking you so deep and so good that you start crying.

+ Looking up at the stars sparkling in the night sky behind Sukuna’s broad shoulders while he makes slow love to you.

+ When you see a shooting star, your only wish is to always call Sukuna yours, to always be this close to him. And somehow you know at that moment that your wish will come true.

AAAAHHH I AM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM 😭😭💗💗 I was going insane because I couldn’t stop fantasizing about boyfie Kuna going on vacation with me, so I had to write all those thoughts down. I hope you enjoyed them too!!

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be super nice 💗

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒. 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

paring: fem!reader x miguel o'hara

summary: just how would be a friends with benefits relationship with miguel.

warnings: Miguel out of character maybe? nsfw, not established relationship, unprotected sex, jealousy, i'm being self indulgent.

❊ it starts one night after having some drinks with friends. He was taking you home, when you two started to talk about how horny the alcohol makes you both

❊ which leads to you inviting him in just to have some coffee to sober up, but it's just an excuse, because you didn´t drink that much, just enough to find the courage to do what you both have been wishing for so long

“are we really doing this?” you moan while he kisses your neck, trailing kisses down your body.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks, stopping what he's doing, looking into your eyes.

“no, keep going. Keep going” you beg, spreading your legs, allowing him to kiss your clothed pussy.

❊ it was suposse to be a one time thing, but it ends being an anytime thing. Any of you calling or sending a message with something as simple as “wanna come over?” or “can I see u?

❊ the first few times were great. After hooking up you used to leave, and that was all. Until one night, it was a long day for Miguel, and he just fell asleep after one of your sessions

you are trying to recover from your climax when he starts to cum, shooting his seed inside you with a raspy groan.

“mierda” he mutters against your neck, still inside you, trying to catch his breath “you have no idea how much I needed that, cariño” he pulls out slowly, collapsing on the bed next to you “can I sleep here just for tonight? estoy realmente cansado”

“yeah” you say, not sure if he heard you before falling asleep

the morning after, you wake up with Miguel still sleeping, with his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as he can

❊ after that everything feels more intimate, crossing the “just sex" line

❊ and of course, your friends are not blind. They see the stolen glances, the holding hands under the table, all those "accidental" touches

“we're just friends” you say, rolling your eyes, taking his hand off your thigh.

And for some reason, he hates how hearing that makes him feel.

❊ I think that he would be the first one to catch feelings, so he is the first one to be jealous

“wait, are you jealous?” you smirk, placing a hand on his chest.

“what? no. why would I be jealous?” he mutters, walking away from you

❊ but at the end of the day, neither of you are willing to make the next move because you're too scared of screwing things up.

“we're just friends, right?” you whine and he almost laughs at the scenario. At how funny it's the question while he has his dick buried deep inside your cunt.

“yeah, just friends, preciosa” he hisses, rocking his hips against yours.

summary: steven ‘accidently’ messages you after you’ve broken up.

pairings: ex! steven grant x ex! reader, allusions to ex! marc and ex! jake as well

warnings: literally just angst :( and very minimal cussing

word count: 870 words

a/n: sooo this is the first small part of a series based on ex! moon boys. will have everything from angst, angst and angst, to pining, forced close proximity and hopefully fluff!!! enjoy :) similar fic here (could be considered another part ig)

Surely it was an accident.

The message shone on your screen, illuminating a small portion of your dark room that the sun had not yet reached, eyes squinting with the unwelcoming light. You had blinked once, twice, harshly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes to ensure this wasn’t a cruel trick your mind was playing.

But it was still there.

Hi.

The message was so simple, a single word. But your heart was pounding, and your mouth was dry. You could imagine him saying it. Could still feel the warm embrace of his breath against the top of your head as he whispered the word, and you knew you were home.

Steven had messaged you. But why?

Keep reading

Thoughts on Miguel having a breeding kink??

I feel like because of him being part spider he would have moments where he needs to breed you because it’s just part of his DNA, begging and asking you if he can cum inside you.

Needy Miguel who gets taken care off because he can’t control himself <333

I actually wrote a full fic based on something similar coming out later this week! but I just had a few HCs I felt I needed to share 👀👀

Miguel O'Hara Breeding kink HCs

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

summary: Breeding kink HCs + more :)

warnings: slight fdom, masturbation, breeding kink, marking, slight size kink. 18+ Minors DNI

wc: 1.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you started dating, he hid it pretty well. 

It's not a rut per se (violent flashback to my ABO phase) but his changed DNA makes him susceptible to being more animalistic. 

Before meeting you, it was less of an issue. His instincts would be more aggressive, manifesting mostly as Spiderman. 

A little more violent, proactive, and stony-faced on the streets. Sure, his libido was higher, but he could satisfy himself fine - opting for quickies in the shower. 

When he first meets you, and you grow closer he finds them getting worse. 

Hot flushes, possessiveness, and god, he's head over heels for your scent. 

The first time you sleep together, he's more forward than he usually would be. After a date, and you look stunning, he just can't think straight. 

After a couple of beers, Miguel floats down the street next to you. You've got your hand in his, click-clacking down the sidewalk in boots and those jeans that make your ass look good. He would know, of course, he's spent the past 5 minutes staring at them. 

He's ashamed to admit it, but he can't concentrate, the story you've been telling goes straight over his head. All he can see is your bubblegum pink gloss, and that perfume you've been wearing goes straight to his cock. You're beautiful , the sweetest thing he's ever had the pleasure of taking out, and all he can think of is what you'd feel like underneath him. 

He walks you up to your apartment door. When you stop outside, he can't help but put a hand on your waist and cage you against the door. 

"You look beautiful, baby." He breathes. 

Your whole face lights up, and it's all he can do to not kiss you right there. You look up. Miguel is tall, broad and handsome. His eyes are low, dangerously raking over your face and body. 

"Do you….. do you want to come in?"

~~~

You don't notice at first. You and Miguel have great sex: he's attentive, handsome, and he's got a pretty healthy appetite. 

He's into a lot of things you didn't think you'd like: marking you up with hickies and admiring you after. 

It's a possessiveness you're not used to, and it turns him on to no end. 

For that reason, he's very verbal; talking you through it just to see you blush. 

" Fuck, Miguel." 

He traces the fresh hickies he's made on your chest as you're splayed out below him. Obscenely, he slaps his dick against your clit, wet noises resounding through your bedroom. 

"Aren't you pretty, mi vida ?" He likes the way you writhe against him, hips flush against his and bucking up for some relief. He's been pawing at your pussy and whispering filthy shit in your ear; using his senses to chase every twitch and pulse of your body. 

"S'what happens when you walk around the house in those tiny shorts, baby. Hmm? Ass out, bending over like I can't see how wet you are. Like I can't taste it in the air." You whimper and he bucks into your hole, catching on your clit before stretching you out. He takes it slow, caging you in with his arms. 

He buries himself in you from the hilt. And he humps your clit, just the way you like it. He takes your hands and holds them above your head, picking up the pace. You writhe and strain, but he holds you still dragging his hips in and out of your sopping hole. Warm, wet, he moulds you to the shape of his cock: rhythmic pounding filling your ears. Your head lolls and he licks up your moans; angling his hips just right and deepening the kiss. 

" ¿Más duro? Harder, baby?" You whine in response, watching where you bodies meet intently. 

" Need your cum, Miguel ."

He cries out, his pace sloppier and less controlled. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him closer, impossibly deep. 

“Can I cum? Please, mami, can I cum?” 

Your answer comes in the form of a harsh tug at the nape of his neck, wrenching his lips onto yours. He stills, spurting hot, sticky cum; painting your walls white. 

~~~

Ohhh and he definitely has a size kink.

He likes to knead your body with his big hands, rubbing your thighs completely absentmindedly, after finishing. 

Aftercare is important to him, often plugging you up with his cock, or toys, or pushing his cum back in with thick fingers after spilling inside you. 

He likes multiple rounds, making sure his cum takes: he wants to see you plump and round and pretty with his baby. 

Irony is, he's not even sure if he wants kids, but the idea lights him on fire - fuels countless nights with you and nights when he strokes his cock to the thought of you. 

He becomes obsessive and a slight perv; taking your panties from the laundry to wrap around his nose, to rub against his cock when he touches himself. 

When Miguel gets like this, he is shameless, overstimulating himself to chase the perfect high.

You find him, back turned in a tight little tank top, on the bed. You heard him first, of course. The rhythmic slap and groaning that creeps into the apartment. You’ve had a long day at work, body sore and aching. The only thing you want to do is kick your heels off, and collapse into bed. And you would’ve - if not for the Miguel-shaped lump perched on the edge of your mattresses. 

You lean on the doorframe, eyebrow raised. “...didn’t know it was so soon, Miguel.”

He doesn’t even glance your way, only moaning and clutching at the sheets. You walk around for a better vantage point, to look him in the eye when he finally spills into his palm. And there, you see the deep red of a pair of panties you had put in the laundry a while back.

“Can’t help it, mi sol. You know I can’t help it.” 

"Fucking perv ." You hiss. He stops, hips jerking up. You sink down to your knees, dainty hands wrapping around his cock. All he can do is watch as you rub his length, squeezing his tip so precum pours out like a leaky shampoo bottle. 

"What were you thinking of that's got you so desperate to hump your hand?" You press a sticky kiss to his balls. 

He doesn't answer at first, too lost in the back and forth of your fingers, other hand pressing the gusset of your panties against his nose. Cruelly, you stop, and he cries out as you squeeze his tip."Asked you a question, Miguel."

"Sorry, mami. C-Can't help it. Only thinking with my cock," He whines, until you start up again. Your face is right next to his length and it is all he can do not to cum all over it. "Thinking about you. Fucking you hard. Deep. Filling you up with my cum again and again-" 

"You want to fuck a baby into me?" 

He nods desperately. "Wouldn't you look so pretty? Plump and round and waddling around with all my cum? Mine, always mine," You speed up, snaking a hand downwards to put some pressure at your clit. Ever perceptive, he notices and grabs, pulling you upwards. Like paper, he rips through the stockings, biting and soothing the bites with his tongue all over your thighs. 

"You want my tongue, first? My fingers?" 

You shake your head. "N-No, Miguel. Long day jus'.... need your cum. Fill me up. Breed me."

He doesn't need to be told twice. You help him get rid of his clothes, and strip down to your bra and panties. He looks hungry, eyes raking over the peaks and troughs if your body. You know what he's like when he gets like this; little self control, reckless abandon. He'd actually fuck a baby in you if it weren't for your birth control. So when you sink down on his length, he isn't tender or sweet, like he usually his. He's an animal , fucking up into your hole and kneading the globes of your ass apart for better purchase. 

"Give it to me, mi vida ." You clench around his thick dick, the burn and stretch of him just right. "Oh fuck, just like that. M'gonna cum, baby, straight into this cunt. Gonna fuck a baby into you, okay? Dámelo, dámelo…"

He stutters, hips flush against your clit and giving you the most delicious throb at your pussy. With a cry, he cums into, deep, as promised. He wraps his fingers in yours, holding you through your own impending orgasm. You fall through the sky, together, coming down from your high. He kisses your forehead with a lazy smile. 

"Not enough, mi vida. Gotta make sure it takes." 

_

_

_

Between Your Thighs

♡o。.✿ฺ Paring // Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

♡o。.✿ฺ Summary // Miguel loves you with his entire heart and you love taking care of Miguel.

♡o。.✿ฺ (A/n) // Inspired by “505” by Arctic Monkeys. Can’t stop, won’t stop writing for Miguel, I just can’t. REQUESTS ARE FINALLY OPEN!!

♡o。.✿ฺ Word Count // 890

♡o。.✿ฺ Content Warnings // Gender neutral reader, mentions/description of intercourse, sexual content, receiving (male), pet names (Mi amor), swearing, dacryphilia, deep throating…

If there was one thing about Miguel that everyone knew, it would be that he was never vulnerable around anyone. Especially to those who he just met, but there was something off with you. Your kind nature towards him made him want to tear his walls down almost immediately. Even if it was going to end up as a single night, nothing more.

But he loved the way your hands trailed down his chest, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you gave every ounce of your love towards him, to a man you barely knew. It wasn’t until he popped the question while in bed that he knew he chose the right one.

And when Miguel isn’t working all day and night, he’s the embodiment of a house husband. He knows how difficult he is at times and he’s happy that you’re so patient.

He especially loves those nights where you let him relax under your touch.

Miguel’s back hit the bed, his head hitting the soft material. His lower half of his body hangs off the edge of the bed.

You watch him carefully, your hand wraps around his hard length, applying pressure from the base to his tip where your thumb pressed against lightly. Teasing and massaging his tip.

Before you could take him into your mouth, you hear him let out a groan, and his hands immediately dig into the bed sheets.

Few pumps with your hand and he moans louder when he feels your warm mouth. You bob your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his length. There were even times where you pulled away to place kisses on his thighs.

You pay attention to Miguel’s moans, hollowing your cheeks which makes him thrusts his hips.

“Amor!” Miguel hisses.

You look up to find his head thrown back, his breathing ragged and quick, you could guess that his eyes are squeezed shut.

Suddenly, you felt a hand come and grasp the back on your head, forcing you to take him deeper. He seems to forget the fact of his claws, how careful he was whenever the two of you did something like this.

But you always reassured him that you placed your trust in him.

“Please!” He begged, lifting his head and his eyes meeting yours, “Please.” He repeated, eyes watering.

The sight of him made you smile around his length. You closed your eyes, letting him control your movements and allow him to fuck your face.

Miguel lets out heavy moans as he thrusts his hips faster. You didn’t know when he sat up and both hands were holding your head.

But you enjoyed the sight of his eyes squinting, his face flushed a bright red, and he looked so beautiful in the moment that you forgot that you were gagging around his cock.

But your eyes began to water as well. As much as you tried to control it, you couldn’t stop it from falling.

Luckily he didn’t catch on or else he’d stop.

He continued until he came into your mouth. He pushed you down all the way to his base.

As you swallowed, you rose to your feet and watched Miguel catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” You ask.

His head hands low, “I should be asking you the same question.” He pants, looking up and I see his watery eyes, “I’m so-”

“I’m alright, Miguel. You didn’t hurt me.”

Then it hits him, “I could’ve-”

“But you didn’t. That proves how much control you have over them.”

Miguel lays back, “…That was amazing though.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He opens his arms and you lay in them, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Placing a kiss on his forehead, falling asleep in his arms.

Your eyes flutter open, the smell of coffee hitting your nose immediately. And at the foot of the bed, Miguel is hunched over.

“Morning.”

He smiles, leaning over to hand you a mug, “Morning.”

“You’re up early.”

“Yeah, I’ve suddenly got another project. Which means-”

“Another all-nighter.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head as you sip your coffee, “It’s not your fault.”

Miguel comes over to you, hugging you tightly, “I’ll make it up to you.”

You smile, “You don’t gotta, being with you is enough for me.”

You watch him get up from the bed and leave the bedroom. It wasn’t like he was leaving for work, he preferred to work at home so he had his own office. So, it was easier to check up on him.

Once you finished your coffee, you got ready for the day, showered, dressed in comfortable clothes and started fixing the bed first. Next came laundry, and the housework.

Hours later, you knocked on the door to his office, “Miguel, I brought you your food.” You heard him hum loudly, letting you enter his office.

With a plate in hand, you set it next to his hand, “Thank you, mi amor.”

“How’s the project going on so far?”

“Going great, might be done in a couple of hours.” He hums as he feels your fingers run through his hair, “Come m’ere.”

You set yourself on his lap, both of your hands in his hair, “May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” He mumbles, relaxing into your touch.

“How long have you been hard?”

© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

take it

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: miguel is tense from everything happening with other spider people, so you offer to help him relax a bit by becoming entirely pliant for him.

warnings: smut. porn without plot, I'm not sorry. rough piv sex, oral sex, light bondage, spanking, fang play

tags: f!reader, established relationship

word count: 1.9k

have you seen him. I'm so feral. I'm so excited to see this movie

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It was late, and he was finally back home. He should have been back home about two hours ago already. 

Worry had kept you awake, you needed to be sure that he was alright and alive before going to bed. 

You got up from the couch when you heard the front door, and you softly smiled at him when he met you in the living room. You left a quick kiss at his lips to greet him, and he pinched his lips in a small, weak smile when you pulled away. He looked exhausted, dark circles had formed under his worn out red eyes.

You could sense that something was wrong, that his day maybe didn’t go the way it was supposed to. 

It has been like this for the past few weeks, with everything that was happening at Alchemax but especially outside, in his Spiderman activities. 

You knew it was a bit more complicated than usual, but Miguel barely even talked about it, only mentioned a certain Miles, and you understood why he was being lowkey about it, he probably wanted to leave all of these problems aside when he finally had the opportunity to settle down and breathe.

"Sorry" he sighed, sitting down on the couch with a grunt. "I know I should have been home way earlier than that but things dragged out." he explained, closing his eyes.

"It's okay" you sat down next to him, your hand resting over his thigh, rubbing it up and down in hope that it would ease the stress out of him. "I get it." 

He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, letting the back of his head rest against the back of the couch. 

"Want something to drink?" you offered, leaving a kiss at his clothed shoulder, letting your head rest here afterward. You felt his head rest on top of yours before he hummed positively. 

You looked back at him and kissed his cheek before leaving for the kitchen and pouring him a glass of scotch, handing him it once you came back.

"Thank you sweetheart" he muttered, taking the glass from your hand, immediately bringing it to his lips and taking a sip of the strong drink.

You sat back down next to him, staring at him closely, watching his every move, and he quickly noticed, cocking an eyebrow.

"What"

"I think I know how I can help you with all this pent up frustration, but you'll have to use some more of that stamina." you declared, nodding once.

"Mh?" he hummed, raising his eyebrows in confusion. 

You nodded again, and licked your bottom lip as you cupped his cheek and traced your thumb along his sharp cheekbone.

"I want you to do whatever you want with me. Anything. Take your frustration out on me, I'll take it."

He almost froze in place at your proposition, like he quite didn't understand it fully.

"Really?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You want me to use you?"

You nodded again, a sly smirk on your lips. He paused for a second, but once he truly processed the information, a toothy grin appeared over his face.

"Fuck baby, you really know how to talk to a man" he finally rasped, pulling your lips to his.

—

He started by fucking your throat, deep and rough. 

You could have regretted your decision when you repeatedly choked on his length and when your eyes had started watering, but the sounds he made and the way his head was thrown back in pleasure reminded you of why you offered him to do this; you wanted him to enjoy this, and as long as he did then so did you, even if you could barely breathe.

He was slowly starting to get close, you could feel it. Your hands that you put over his thighs for some leverage felt his muscles twitch softly, and your nails dug in his skin when he gave an especially deep thrust to the back of your throat, eliciting a loud moan from his mouth.

“Fuck baby” he groaned, before pulling out, finally giving you some air. “Don’t wanna come just yet. I haven’t used you enough” he muttered, offering you his hand so you could stand up. 

“Are you okay?” he asked as you held onto his hand to get back onto your feet. You nodded, happy to finally be able to breathe properly, and he pulled you into a kiss before his hands cupped your ass, squeezing it lightly before giving it a sharp slap. “Good. Now get undressed and lay down on your stomach, hands behind your back” he ordered, and you happily and quickly obliged. 

He didn’t join you immediately on the bed, and you could hear him rummaging through the drawers for a while before you felt a dip behind you, his knees digging in the mattress at either side of your legs.

“Good girl” he praised, his voice dripping with lust as he grabbed your wrists and tied them together with one of his belts, the soft leather feeling cold against your burning hot skin. 

You yelped when you felt his hands grabbing at your hips and lifting you up a bit, putting a pillow between you and the bed to prop your hips up from him.

He spanked you a bit more, making you bury your face into the pillows as you muffled your groans. The heat prickling at your skin felt pleasurable, but you couldn’t wait anymore; you needed him, you needed to feel him, you needed him to touch you, to fill you.

And you knew you would get what you wanted soon when you felt his leaking tip poking against your cheek, the warmth of him making you grow even more impatient. He rutted between your ass cheeks, sliding up and down against your slit ever so slowly. His teasing was driving you insane.

“Miguel, please–” you whimpered, and he tutted, his large hand hitting your right ass cheek once more, the sting making you jolt softly.

“I thought you were supposed to take it like a good girl” he hissed through gritted teeth, and you frantically nodded into the pillows. "Act like it and spread your legs for me" he demanded, and you did.

He teased you even more, punishing you for begging him to go further faster earlier.

He slowly and cruelly teased the weeping tip of his cock against your folds, rubbing it up and down, gathering your slick as you kept on whining for him, not actually asking him anything precise or you knew he would tease you even more.

Miguel grew impatient and it came with no warning, a gasp left your mouth when he pushed and plunged inside of you in one swift movement. 

You wailed at the stretch, the size of him splitting you in half, the feeling being pretty new as he usually prepared you and worked you open gradually, easing himself slowly.

The pain from the stretch hurt for a bit but you grew used to it rather fast, it wasn’t like you had a choice anyways; he was driving himself inside you at an aggressive and firm pace, his hands digging into your waist, his fingers anchored into your skin as he held you in place. The pain was quickly replaced by pleasure, the snap of his hips filling you just right and hitting all the mind-numbing spots inside of you. 

He cursed spanish profanities under his breath, things you were too dizzy to understand at the moment; you were already too far gone to understand what was going on around you except for the man fucking into you in rapid motions and his hips snapping against your rear repeatedly, the sharp sound of skin-on-skin ringing in your ears.

“So good for me baby. Letting me use you like that” he growled, his hand gathering your hair to yank your head backwards, drawing a startled yelp out of you. 

His chest was pressed against your back and your tied hands, and you felt his warm breath at the nape of your neck before his fangs teased and softly scratched the tender skin there, nipping lightly, with no real intention to truly bite and hurt you. “Look at you” he chuckled, his hand letting go of your hair and grabbing your chin, making you turn your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the pillow. “So fucking cock drunk for me” he teased, a grunt leaving his mouth when he thrust even harder and deeper into you. 

A low snarl vibrated against your skin as he nuzzled the crook of your neck, leaving some warm kisses over your shoulder before getting away from your back and your sore arms.

His hands gripped back at your hips, reviving the aching feeling there. You were pretty sure it was going to hurt and be bruised tomorrow, but it felt too good right now, so you couldn’t care less. 

His nails were digging into your body, crescent shaped marks forming in your skin. You only hoped he still had some control over his talons, because if they came out, it would take more than a few days for you to not feel them anymore.

You quickly grew close, so close. Every thrust pulled whines out of you, and your clit was throbbing, in desperate need of attention, and you couldn’t do anything about it, your hands tied behind your back and your lower body entirely controlled by Miguel. 

And he could feel it, feel that you were almost there, he saw the way you were drooling over the bedding, moaning every time he filled you to the hilt at every slam in your cunt. He slid his hand under your body, fingers reaching where you needed him the most, the rough thrusts of his hips making you rub against his hand.

“Come for me baby, come on” he softly grunted, and the sound of his voice combined with his rubs and the way he hit that spot inside of you sent you over the edge. You repeatedly moaned his name like a prayer when you clenched and fluttered around him, every nerve inside your body set alight as you gripped the bed sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white. 

He cursed under his breath before speeding up his thrusts, going impossibly faster and making you whine at the overstimulation once the dazing feeling of your orgasm faded away. It didn’t last long; he eased himself out of you cursing again, and you looked back at him and at his furrowed brows and the vein bulging over his forehead, his hips stuttering as he sloppily fucked into his hand, and it didn’t take long for the hot strings of his cum to spurt over your ass and lower back, pulling low groans from his mouth.

You must have passed out for a few minutes, because next thing you know, you’re cleaned up, your hands are free, and you’re laying on your back. Miguel is laying right next to you, the tip of his fingers gently caressing your shoulder, his thumb stroking your cheek when he realized you were back to consciousness again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worry visible on his face, the crease behind his brows more pronounced than usual.

“More than okay” you softly smiled at him, and he left a kiss at your collarbone.

“Good. Because I’m not done with you yet” he smirked, positioning himself between your legs, smiling at your whine when he softly nipped at your thighs.

“Fuck Miguel, that Miles really should piss you off more often.”

—

feedback is always extremely appreciated plsplspls<3

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spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie

moonboys and a reader who maladaptive daydreams?

hi, nonnie! thank you for this request, you must’ve seen my blog description haha. this is my first fic request which is very exciting! my inbox is always open so if you’d like to request something, i’d appreciate it. :) anyway, i hope you like it!

IMPLODING THE MIRAGE

Moon Knight x afab!reader (primarily Marc Spector) (10.6k+)

You’ve been escaping into yourself more and more often, and the boys are starting to notice. How are you supposed to explain to them that you don’t want to live in the moment, when the version of your life inside your head is so much better than reality on the outside?

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: maladaptive daydreaming, insecure reader & negative perceptions of self, depictions of injury & violence, kidnapping, miscommunication, SMUT (inappropriate fantasizing, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics if you squint)

imploding the mirage — the killers

i had to do it, i had no other choice you’ve got to listen to the inside voice a bullet train will get you there fast but it won’t guarantee a long last sometimes it takes a little bit of courage and doubt to push your boundaries out beyond your imagining

He was the moon, and she was the stars.

It was serendipitous, how the couple had come to fall in love throughout the course of their divine adventures alongside each other—two servants to a pair of primordial Egyptian deities, serving as Avatars to protect those who could not protect themselves. She’d met him at a meeting of the Ennead, when he’d been called upon to answer for his actions against a human named Arthur Harrow, who was accused of attempting to raise Ammit from eternal isolation.

The trial hadn’t gone well, and certainly hadn’t worked in his favor, but her goddess protector had a soft spot for Khonshu, the God of the Moon—after all, he was the reason she had been given five extra days with which to bear her five children.

So her Avatar was secretly assigned to keep watch over the Moon Knight, to aid in his fight to keep Ammit contained and offer her services should he need them.

He was resistant at first, but Khonshu insisted that having Nut as an ally could only serve to benefit them in their journey—after all, she was the sky, and without her, the Moon could not rise.

Marc Spector and his alters didn't anticipate becoming so infatuated with the soft curve of her Avatar’s smile or the cosmos she seemed to hold within her eyes. But as time passed, they grew closer, and when she saved him again and again, the navy blue of her armor shimmering with glowing silver emblems of stars, he felt as if his soul was tethered to her. It seemed to be fate, as clear as a constellation, that their lives were somehow intertwined and their happenstance meeting was actually the result of some unseen gravitational pull, guiding them through the darkness until they found solace in one another.

He heard her sandal-clad feet softly hit the solid ground, her body drifting down from the sky to land beside him after her short flight in the air. He turned to look at her—the flowing robes of her ceremonial armor billowed in the evening breeze, her hair pulled back intricately with thin glittering bands of silver, adorned with five-pointed stars that captured the moonlight in her curls. She was ethereal, heavenly, celestial, and when she turned and smiled at him, he swore the planets aligned in some brief moment of rapture.

“Where to next, Moon Boy?”

She teased lightly, her nose crinkling with amusement. His hands twitched at his sides, unable to control the movement of his arm as it reached for her hand.

He heard Khonshu chuckle deeply from somewhere behind him, condescending and slightly mocking. Still, he always spoke kinder about the woman beside him than any other being on this Earth.

“I should’ve known you would become enamored with the little star. Nut always finds a way to reunite the beings of the night sky.”

Marc ignored him—he was too enthralled by the way her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of his fingers brushing her own, the hood and mask of his armor receding to reveal the tenderness of his gaze. He turned to face her, his other gloved hand reaching to cradle the side of her jaw. He watched as her gaze flickered down to his lips, and he smiled.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

He leaned forward to capture her lips with his own, swallowing her contented sigh as she melted into his touch—

“Jesus Christ!”

You nearly toppled forward when Marc abruptly yanked his arm away from you, his face contorted into a look of pain. You blinked once, then twice, eyes clearing to focus in on the blood staining your hands and the curved needle that was pinched tightly between your forefinger and thumb.

“The fuck was that? Are you even paying attention to what you’re doing?”

Marc hissed at you, cradling his injured forearm to his chest, gritting his teeth as your eyes widened in realization.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, Marc, I zoned out, here, just let me see—”

“Forget it, I’ll just do it myself.”

He snatched the suture from your hand and laid his arm back on the marbled countertop of your bathroom sink, giving you a clear view of the mistake you’d made—you’d laid the stitch nearly a full inch from where the edge of the gaping incision had started, sinking it into completely uninjured, healthy skin.

“Marc, stop, I’ll do it.”

You stopped him before he could hurt himself even more—he never had the patience to treat his wounds properly, but for ones that were this deep, it was smarter to close them by hand than wait several hours for his magical suit to heal it on its own.

He grunted in protest, but nonetheless allowed you to retrieve the needle from his hold and lean over his arm, tongue pinched between your teeth in concentration.

You were much more careful, this time, deliberate with each pull of the thread beneath his skin, finishing sewing shut the injury quickly. When you’d finally finished, you leaned forward to bite the end of the stitch and tear it away with your teeth. You reached for a piece of gauze, pouring a generous amount of saline solution onto the cloth in order to blot the excess blood from his skin.

You could feel his eyes on you the whole time, burning into your skull as if he was trying to read your mind. You sulked.

“I said I was sorry, Marc, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your words were soft, and he could hear the guilt that was churning in your stomach. He didn’t flinch when you began dabbing at the drying blood around the wound.

“S’fine. But—what happened? It’s like—you just tapped out for a second, there. Did you even hear what I was saying to you?”

You frowned.

“No, I’m sorry. I just—got lost in thought.”

“Hell of a time for that to happen.”

He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you didn’t laugh. Your eyes were still fixed on the skin of his arm, even though you’d successfully wiped away most of the remaining blood.

“I was just saying that—that I appreciate that you’re willing to do this for me.”

Your eyes darted to his face, surprised at the vulnerability he was displaying by expressing his gratitude.

“I mean—I never figured that when I’d stumbled onto your balcony all those months ago, beaten to all hell, that I’d meet someone who was willing to patch me up over and over again. Well—at least, before you stabbed me with a needle.”

Your eyes fell again, cheeks reddening at his jab. But he just laughed warmly, lifting his arm to rest his hand on your shoulder. Your bristled beneath his fingers, although his touch was nothing more than a friendly expression of appreciation.

“I’m just teasing you. But either way—just wanted to say thanks. Steven told me that I don’t say it enough, so...”

Now you laughed. It was more of a scoff, really, accompanied by the roll of your eyes as you reached for the knobs on the faucet, rinsing the blood from your fingers.

“Of course Steven made you.”

A lopsided grin found its way onto his face, and when you looked at him again, there was a twinkle in his eye. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you gazed at him—ebony curls spilling messily against his forehead, his lips quirked upwards at the corners, the fondness that was lingering beneath his brown irises. Was it possible? Could he really care about you the way you cared for him?

You turned away, standing and exiting the bathroom quickly before you could make a fool of yourself, face heating up at your own naïveté. Of course he didn’t feel that way about you. You were just—you. Only in the sanctuary of your imagination would he ever look at you and see anything beyond just a nurse playmate, or even maybe a friend.

You heard his heavy footsteps follow you back into your flat, where you wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a couple glasses.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Spare bed’s already made, I washed the sheets since last time you bled all over them and didn’t even tell me.”

You turned on the tap to fill the two cups with water. You were certain Marc hadn’t remembered to drink anything since his most recent escapade as a masked vigilante, and being around him always tended to make your mouth run dry.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You slid the glass of water across the countertop towards him, leaning back against the kitchen island to sip at your own. You watched him above the rim of your glass—the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he took a large swig of the cool liquid, the way a stray droplet of water dribbled down his chin when he pulled the glass back, the way his hand came to wipe it away, the plush of his bottom lip supple beneath the swipe of his fingers.

She fell back against the mattress, breath temporarily stolen from her lungs as she felt the heat of his lips hungrily mouthing at any exposed skin it could reach—her jawline, her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. A soft whine fell from her mouth and Marc swiftly lifted himself back to her face to swallow the sound, tongue sinking into her mouth to taste her.

Her fingers clawed at the fabric of his t-shirt, twisting and yanking him impossibly closer, legs lifting to wrap around his waist to press the heat of her core against the growing tent in his pants. A low groan escaped his chest as he rutted against her, pulling back to take stock of the hazy fog of lust that clouded her eyes and the O-shape of her lips as she let out a shaky exhale.

“Fuck, Marc.”

She whispered, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders, fingers digging into his shoulderblades.

“Want you—need you so bad.”

“You’re doing it again.”

You blinked once, then twice, finding Marc's dark gaze staring straight at you as his voice pulled you back to reality. Your brows lifted in horror when you realized you’d shamelessly been ogling at him, too engrossed in your thoughts to notice how long you’d been standing there.

“Shit, I—sorry.”

You rubbed at your eyes with your fingers, hoping that maybe if you pressed hard enough, the image of Marc’s body hovering above you would erase itself from your mind. It didn’t work.

You heard the clank of his now-empty glass as he set it down on the granite countertop, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

You should be used to the rush of heat to your face by now—just being in Marc’s company caused you to blush uncontrollably, but still, the discomfort of your ruddy cheeks made your pulse quicken. Your gaze flickered down to your feet, eyes meeting the stupid fucking bunny slippers that you wore to accompany your fleece pajama bottoms. Fucking embarrassing.

“It’s nothing, Marc.”

You whispered quietly in response, although nausea was beginning to settle in the pit of your stomach. You were out of control—this man was driving you insane.

He studied you for a moment longer, eyes narrowed in suspicion, but when you didn’t look back up at him, he just sighed.

“Okay. I’ll just—leave you alone, then. Goodnight.”

There were tears pricking the back of your eyes. You wanted to ask him to stay, to come share your bed instead of the one in your guest room, to kiss his stupidly handsome face.

“Towels are folded in the bathroom for you, and there’s clothes in the wardrobe if you want to change.”

You said instead, turning to refill your glass of water in the sink behind you. If he heard you, he didn’t respond—you listened to his footsteps disappear down the hall before the door to the guest bedroom creaked shut with a quiet click. Your shoulders immediately slumped forward, eyes squeezed shut tightly in an effort to combat the desperate urge to break down.

Her eyes were full of detestation as she glared down at him, nostrils flared with rage. He wanted to shrink beneath her disapproval.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

The woman started, and in spite of her towering figure looking down at him, he couldn’t help but gawk at the way the moonlight framed her, her silhouette outlined by the subtle glow of the night sky behind her. She offered him a hand and he took it, allowing her to yank him to his feet without an ounce of gentleness.

“You’re lucky I was here, Lockley, or things would’ve ended differently.”

She hissed, dusting herself off as if to showcase the strenuous effort she had put into saving his ass. He scowled behind his mask, the blood from the wound on his forearm beginning to soak through the bandages of his suit, tingeing the cream-colored fabric a dark crimson.

“I don’t need your help, estrellita. I was handling it.”

She scoffed as he turned on his heel to stomp away, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Yeah, sure looked like you were handling it—why didn’t you call me? Nut had to drag me out of bed so you didn’t get yourself killed. Didn’t the old bird tell you we were together on this?”

He scowled, eyes narrowed in contempt.

“Yeah, he did, and I said no. We are not partners. We’re hardly even friends.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, the way her face fell and her brows creased causing a pang of guilt to stab through his already-sore chest. He sighed.

“Estrellita, I didn’t mean—”

“Why do you push me away?”

She interrupted, and Jake was taken aback by the question.

“What do you mean?”

“You need me, Jake. We need each other. I’m just—I just want to help you, why won’t you let me help you?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at her as her eyes flooded with tears. At his silence, she shook her head, turning away to stare up into the star-filled sky.

“We’re supposed to be a team, Moon Knight. The stars and the moon—you can’t have one without the other.”

He could see the reflection of the crescent-shaped moon in her glassy eyes, the soft glow painting her face with silvery beams of light.

You’d left the balcony door wide open—your routine was fairly habitual, now. A mug of warm tea was cradled in your fingers as you curled up in the wicker chair, eyes flitting across the scattered stars that were visible from your tiny apartment complex.

You watched him sit down beside you in your periphery, the movement to your left pulling you from your reverie. He reached for the glass of bourbon you'd set out on the table in front of him.

You sat in silence for awhile, finding comfort in the man’s quiet presence. You liked that about Jake—you never felt like you had to fill the air with meaningless conversation. He was perfectly content to just enjoy your company, the same as you enjoyed his.

You heard the ice in his glass clink against the side as he took a sip.

“Are you going to tell them?”

Neither of you looked at each other when he spoke—the question was spoken out into the world, not really directed towards you, although you knew what he meant.

Jake was too fucking perceptive for his own good. Even when he was silent, he was always there, watching, listening, observing—even if the other alters were oblivious to the yearning that was thinly veiled within your eyes, he certainly wasn’t. You sighed.

“No.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, but something about his lack of verbal response bothered you, itching at the back of your brain. You turned to scowl at him.

“What?”

Jake hardly spared you a glance, barely quirking a brow at your emotionally-charged reaction as he shook his head.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

You glared, fingers anxiously tapping at the rim of your mug. The contours of Jake’s face were sharp in the dim light of the moon, features accentuated by the shadows. He finally turned to look at you.

“You know what I think, nena. You’re only hurting yourself. And your constant...daydreaming. It’s not as subtle as it once was. You—You should talk to them. Or me.”

The last bit of his proposal caught you off guard. His eyes had already drifted elsewhere when he said it, staring into his half-empty glass of liquor, but your brows lifted in surprise.

“I—you?”

He glowered playfully.

“Don’t sound so surprised, nena. I always listen to you.”

That was true. Some of your fondest memories with Jake were of late nights spent out on your balcony, getting drunk on cheap wine and sharing stories.

“Yeah, you’re good at listening, but not so much the talking part.”

Jake shrugged, although he nodded in understanding. He was all too aware of his own weaknesses.

You took a sip of your chamomile tea, letting its warmth combat the chill of the evening air.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

You asked quietly, and even without elaborating, Jake knew what you were referring to. He sighed, tossing back the last of his bourbon before setting it on the small table between you, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve told you before. It’s not my place. I know what they think, but not what they feel.”

You huffed quietly, although deep down, you knew he was right. It wasn’t his place to share how Marc or Steven felt about you. You sort of admired the way he was so strict in his moral obligations—especially considering the lengths you were willing to go in order to change his mind.

Jake stiffened when he felt your hand rest on his bicep, fingers wrapping around it and squeezing lightly.

“But what about how you feel?”

His jaw rippled, and you felt the muscle beneath your fingers tense at your coy words. You could feel the restraint within him as he sat up abruptly, pulling away so his arm fell from your grasp. He still didn’t look at you.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel, nena. Not until you talk to Marc. He—you were his first. I’m not going jeopardize your relationship with him until he knows the truth.”

Anger flared within you.

“I’m not his. I don’t belong to anyone. My choices are my own.”

Jake flinched, eyes softening as they flickered over to you.

“You’re right, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—you have to understand. He—I can’t go behind his back like this. Yo no sería capaz de vivir conmigo mismo.”

“But you can’t even tell me if he feels the same way?”

You asked, and he could hear the pain in your voice as your tone wavered slightly. You’d had this conversation many times before, but things had been escalating recently—perhaps because it was getting increasingly difficult for you to be content in the reality you lived in.

Jake’s eyes were full of sympathy as he regarded you.

“No, nena. I’m sorry.”

You turned away.

“But you need to tell him. And Steven, too. They deserve to know. And so do you.”

You heard his weight shift as he stood to head back to bed, having spent too much time keeping the body awake—he didn’t want his alters to grow suspicious at the exhaustion when they woke in the morning.

“What if he breaks my heart?”

He paused in the threshold on the doorway, glancing back at you when he heard the thickness in your throat as your eyes welled with tears.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Jake pursed his lips, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he pondered his response. Finally, he released a long sigh.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, nena. He’d be crazy not to.”

The smell of cinnamon wafted down the hallway as Steven rose from his slumber. There was a gentle melody floating in the air as he pulled himself from the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his bare feet padding along the tiled floor towards the source of the noise.

She was singing quietly to herself, back towards him as she chopped the fresh strawberries into fourths. He couldn’t help but smile at the domesticity of it all—the woman he loved, that he fought beside, making breakfast for them to share. His heart felt whole.

He sidled up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist and his body pressing flush against her back. He placed a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck, her hair pulled up in a sloppy updo.

“G’mornin’, darling.”

He hummed sleepily, and he felt her chest rumble with an airy giggle as she leaned into his touch.

“Hi, handsome. Sleep okay?”

He reached over her shoulder to steal a strawberry from the cutting board, taking a bite of the succulent fruit before offering the other half to her by pressing it to her lips. She smiled and happily accepted his offering.

“Would’ve slept even better if I’d woken up to your face beside me.”

She threw her head back, leaning against his chest as she laughed brightly—his favorite sound.

“Oh, boohoo. Sorry for getting up early to make you breakfast.”

She teased, and Steven pressed his face into her hair, the smell of her coconut shampoo enticing him. His arms reached to rest on the countertop to either side of her, successfully caging her in. He heard her breath hitch as the movement of the knife in her hand stalled, his body pressing up more firmly against her—enough so that she could feel the hardness of his manhood against the flesh of her ass.

“The strawberries are sweet, darling, but I’d rather have something even sweeter for breakfast this mornin’, yeah?”

“G’mornin’, darling.”

The knife fumbled in your grasp and the blade slipped across your fingers, slicing a divot in the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

“Steven! Shit!”

You immediately dropped the knife and rushed towards the sink, rinsing your wound under the cold water to inspect the damage and dilute the blood.

“Oh, Gods, m’so sorry, love—are you alright?”

You could feel his body creeping up behind you, an arm reaching around to grab yours in an attempt to investigate the source of your discomfort. The warmth of his presence against your back startled you, a fierce blush rising to your cheeks as you reached for a towel and sidestepped, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“It’s—I’m fine. It’s just a tiny cut, it’s no big deal.”

You brushed it off, although your palm was beginning to throb. You pulled the washcloth away from the afflicted area, finding it soaked with a generous amount of your blood.

“Looks like it hurts. Can I—may I help you with it?”

There was trepidation in his big brown eyes, obviously put off by the hastiness with which you’d pulled away from him. You surrendered yourself, offering a sigh and a slow nod.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You found yourself in a similar position to the previous night, although this time, the roles were reversed—and your wound was from an unfortunate kitchen incident, not a scuffle with a group of evil antique smugglers.

Steven’s bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he secured a piece of gauze on the injury with medical tape, winding it around your palm so it fit snugly against the area. His hands were nimble and his touch was painfully gentle, the pads of his fingers just barely skimming over your skin in an effort to prevent you from more discomfort. A chill crept up your spine at the close proximity.

He looked rather satisfied with himself when he’d finished, shoving the medical supplies back into the bin beneath your sink that you had specially packed for him.

“There we are—good as new.”

He smiled cheerily at you, and it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but grin back at him. Your mind briefly darted back to your conversation with Jake the night before; then the unholy thoughts you’d been having this morning when Steven had snuck up on you. Gods, you really were getting out of control...

Steven led you from the bathroom and you returned to your post, rinsing the knife and the sliced strawberries to ensure they weren’t contaminated. You stepped over to the stove to check the steel-cut oatmeal that had been simmering—Steven’s favorite. You gave it a few good stirs before deciding that it was finished, filling up two bowls with generous servings and sprinkling the top with strawberries, brown sugar, and a pinch of cinnamon. Steven was already seated at you breakfast bar when you turned to offer him his meal.

“Bon apétit.”

You flourished playfully, passing the bowl in front of him as you seated yourself on the stool across the way. His eyes crinkled with appreciation when he smiled.

“Oh, it smells bloody lovely. Thank you, darling.”

He always called you that, you rationalized. It was nothing more than a term of endearment—a friendly pet name.

You ate in silence for awhile, save for the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain and the birds chirping from your open window. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow him as he slipped a strawberry past his lips, something reminiscent of a moan escaping him as he savored the flavor of the fruit. Your face flushed bright red.

“Yes, darling—just like that, please.”

He was whimpering beneath her, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at her from where she straddled him, sliding her naked and exposed core over his boxer-clad erection.

“You wanna be inside me, Steven?”

She cooed, leaning forward to kiss along his stubbled jawline, and he moaned wantonly, hips rutting up against her.

“Gods, yes, love, please, I can’t—”

“S’there somethin’ on my face?”

Panic flooded you at the bewildered expression on Steven’s face, his hand coming up to wipe at his mouth in case you'd been gawking at some remnants of food on the corners of his lips.

You shook your head, eyes wide and cheeks already turning pink.

“I—No, no, there’s not, I—sorry. I was just—just thinking.”

He gave you a brief scrutinizing look before shrugging and diving back into the remainder of his oatmeal.

“What were you thinkin’ about?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Oh, it’s—nothing, really. Sometimes I just—space out, I guess.”

You offered sheepishly, toying with the last few bites of your food with your spoon—your appetite was suddenly gone.

“You seem to do that a lot, yeah? S’everything alright?”

“Yes.”

You answered him a bit too quickly, hastily jumping to end the conversation before it even began. His brows furrowed, watching as you quickly grabbed both bowls to busy yourself with cleaning up.

He wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer—in fact, it only served to startle him more. He watched you carefully as you began to viciously scrub at the blue porcelain bowls with a sponge.

“Are you...sure? I’m just—you’re worryin’ me a bit, yeah? And with last night, with Marc—if somethin’s the matter, you know you can always talk to us, ‘lright?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take in a slow, careful breath in an effort to soothe your frazzled nerves.

“Yeah, I know, Steven—thank you. But—but everything’s just fine, really.”

She’s lying.

Steven was surprised to hear Jake’s voice echo from the back of the headspace—it wasn’t often that he offered internal commentary to any conversations outside of when he was fronting.

And how do you know that?

Marc quipped back in his mind—Steven hated when they argued in the headspace, especially when he was the one in control of the body. His brain felt too full and it was easy for him to get overstimulated.

What—you think she’s telling the truth, jefe?

Marc didn’t respond, and Steven was silently grateful that their quarrel had ended quickly. Still, he knew his alters were correct—you definitely weren’t ‘just fine.’

But the last thing he wanted to do was push you away, especially since it already felt like you were putting up a wall between you, keeping him at arm’s length.

He let out a long sigh, standing up from the bar to get ready to depart for his shift at the museum.

“Well, thank you for brekky, love, and for—everything else.”

You startled when you turned, finding him standing directly behind you, pulling you into his warm embrace without any due warning. God, why was he so fucking sweet? Guilt gnawed away are your insides—Jake was right. He really did deserve to know the truth, why you were spending more time living in your fantasyland than grounded in reality—but surely it’d scare him off. Marc, too.

Perhaps it was just better to keep imagining what it would be like to be loved by them—at least without being outright rejected, there would always be that small sliver of hope gleaming in the back of your mind, that tiny semblance of ‘what if’ that you let linger.

You melted into his arms, face pressed into his shoulder.

“Anytime, Steven, really. It’s my pleasure.”

There was always a smile on her face when they departed—even if their time away from each other was difficult, she knew she could look forward to the next time they'd see each other. The way his big brown eyes would light up with elation when he saw her, like an overexcited puppy reuniting with its owner.

The grin remained on her face, still, after he’d kissed her goodbye and they parted ways. She hummed softly to herself as she journeyed down the hallway to remake the bed and tidy up the room.

He never did remember to tuck in the blankets. She laughed quietly to herself and she entered the room, filled with the distinctive cypress scent of him. She reached to fluff the pillows—

Oh. That shouldn’t be there, should it?

Your fingers wrapped around the small white trinket, strung along on a leather braided band. You lifted it up to your face to inspect it more closely—it was an pendant carved from ivory, shaped like a cross with a loop at the top. An ankh—the key of life—you recalled, as Steven had once taught you. There was a certain texture that ran along the sides, and only when you brought the object right up to your nose were you able to see that there was a teeny tiny pattern etched into the surface. Hieroglyphics.

Shit, you realized. This looked like something that would be in the museum Steven worked at—although it looked a bit too high quality to be sold in the gift shop. Nonetheless, you realized that it must’ve slipped from his pocket while he was getting dressed. What if it was important?

You wandered back to the kitchen and tried calling his cell, once, then twice, without receiving an answer. He was probably already being berated by Donna—oh, well. The museum was on your way to work anyhow, just one bus stop before the café that you worked at. You could swing by and give it to him before your shift.

You glanced down at your phone to shoot him a quick text.

hey, you forgot something here i’ll drop it off for you in a bit x

It was only when you were strolling down the street with the pendant strung around your neck that a thrill of excitement ran up your spine.

What if this was from his latest mission?

It wasn’t something you’d considered before, but now that you thought about it, it seemed like the likeliest explanation. The boys didn’t tell you much about their escapades as the masked lunar vigilante, save for the vague explanations about the injuries they asked you to patch up—but you knew enough to be two-and-two together. This must be the ancient artifact he had been sent to retrieve on Khonshu’s behalf the previous night.

You suppressed a smile by sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, filled with giddiness. You were actually helping.

“Where is it?”

A venomous voice seethed, peering down at the crumpled form of the man at his feet. Marc was hunched over, arms chained behind his back, blood from his abdomen beginning to soak through the white fabric of his suit. His mouth tasted like copper, teeth coated in the sticky red substance as a gruff hand came to harshly grip his jaw, forcing his eyes upward. He sneered.

“I told you. I don’t know.”

Another punch collided with his face, this time connecting with the bridge of his nose and sending him careening backwards, landing against the concrete with a grunt.

“You’re full of shit. We know it was you at the burial site, Spector. We have eyewitnesses. You’re the only person in the world who could have possibly taken it.”

To the man's utter surprise, Marc Spector began to laugh. It was a wet sound, his mask receding so he could spit out a wad of crimson-tinted bile as he chuckled wolfishly, his lips curling up into a snarl. The perpetrator felt fear shoot through him at the look on his face.

“You’re wrong, actually. See, I was there.”

He clarified, eyes glinting dangerously. His attacker stumbled backwards as a harsh silver light blinded him briefly, and when his vision cleared, the Moon Knight had risen to his feet, freed from his shackles.

“I just wasn’t alone.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he slowly turned around, met face to face with intense glare of a woman, her eyes still glowing with residual power. She tilted her head at him condescendingly, before lifting her right hand—the white ankh charm was dangling from her fingertips as she smiled coyly up at him.

“Looking for this?”

She cooed, smirking innocently, and before the man could even blink, she had pounced, wrestling him to the floor and pressing his face down against the cold flooring, cheek smushed against the pavement. She straddled his back, using her weight to hold him still while her fingers made a curling motion in the air—a rope of pure silvery light materialized with the sweep of her hand, binding the man’s hands behind his back with tendrils of starlight.

Her partner was dealing with the other two lackeys, one already laid out on the ground and the other lifted in the air by his neck, one of Marc’s gloved hands raising him up with his fingers pressing beneath his jaw.

When he stopped resisting, Marc let his body collapse to the floor in a heap before he turned back to face the woman, whose chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths. Even after a fight, she somehow appeared graceful and collected—she reached upward and pulled a stray hair from her eyes, tucking it back into it’s place beneath her star-laden headdress. Their eyes met briefly.

“Thanks.”

Marc swallowed, his head bowed low in embarrassment. He waited for the jab to come—‘I told you so.’ He deserved it, really. It was stupid to come in alone.

Instead, he was startled when she approached him softly, her eyes glittering as she lifted her hand to gently brush over his cheekbone, her smile gentle and kind.

“I’ll always have your back. You know that, right?”

He looked away, ridden with guilt and remorse, but she urged his eyes back to her with the nudge of her fingers.

“Marc. I mean it.”

He felt tears stinging the back of his eyes as he sniffed, trying to play off his emotions with fabricated nonchalance.

“Yeah, I know.”

She nodded once, withdrawing her hand from his face before lifting the ancient artifact up to his face, waving it for emphasis.

“We should probably get this to the old bird, then, huh?”

Her head snapped to the side at the gust of wind that abruptly passed them, her eyes trailing up the heavenly form of the aforementioned deity, the slope of his ebony beak towering above her. She swallowed—she’d never actually seen him before, only heard of him in passing from his Avatar. Khonshu.

Time seemed to freeze, briefly, as her breath slowly made its way back to her lungs. The skeletal bird tilted his domineering skull downward, staring her down with intensity.

“Wake up, little star.”

Her brows furrowed, her jaw dropping to reply, but he interrupted.

“You are not a part of this. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Her head started to swim, the image in front of her turning hazy as her vision began to blur. She blinked profusely. This isn’t a part of the script, this isn’t supposed to happen—

“Wake up!”

With a jolt, you were pulled from your daydream—just in time for a hand to slip over your mouth to muffle your scream before everything went dark.

When your eyes blinked open, heavy with exhaustion, you were staring up at the white ceiling of your bedroom. You made a move to sit up, but the movement caused a throbbing pain to bloom in the back of your skull, forcing you back down against the pillows as a groan of discomfort fell from your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to regain your bearings, when a set of heavy footsteps grabbed your attention from the hallway.

He faltered in the doorway when he made eye contact with you, his dark brows furrowed heavily with concern, dark purple bags settled beneath his lower lashes. When his initial shock wore off, his jaw set as he approached you slowly, a glass of tap water clutched in his left hand. He perched carefully on the edge of the bed, mindful not the nudge you.

“Marc?”

You croaked, your throat hoarse and dry, and he wordlessly reached forward, propping you further up onto the pillows before lifting the glass to your lips.

“Drink.”

He said sternly, pressing the rim to your mouth, and you obliged blindly, letting him tip the contents of the cup back into your mouth as you took slow, tentative sips. When he was satisfied with your water intake, he pulled the glass away and set it on the bedside table, the movement punctuated by a heavy sigh. Your eyes followed him carefully, brows knit together in confusion.

“I—what happened?”

You asked slowly, sitting yourself upward just a bit more. The pain in your head was lessening, although their was still a dull ache lingering at the back of your neck. You could see his jaw ripple again as he clenched his teeth, his body facing the door and his eyes focused on the wall across from him. You studied his profile carefully before he ran a tired hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers.

“What do you remember?”

He prompted, and you hesitated, thinking back on the last thing you recalled. You remembered leaving for work, and finding the little white pendant you were planning on returning—and you remember getting lost in another fantasy before a hand clamped around your mouth and—

“Was I kidnapped?”

You asked incredulously, eyes blowing wide with realization as you recalled the sensation of a strong grasp around your face and neck before your fell unconscious. You watched his lip twitch with frustration.

“No. Well—yes. But you, I mean—what the fuck were you thinking?”

He finally turned to look at you, and when he did, you immediately wanted to shrink away and evaporate. His eyes were fiery, burning red hot with fury, the disapproving expression on his face striking something deep in your chest.

“What do you mean?”

You asked quietly, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes, and Marc stood up, running a hand through his unruly curls as he took in a deep breath, obviously attempting to maintain some semblance of composure.

“You almost got yourself killed—bringing that charm with you, parading it around like a trophy.”

“I didn’t know, Marc, I just—”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t let you get wrapped up in all of this—fuck, if I hadn’t been there...”

His back was towards you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, his body heaving with heavy panting breaths. You felt small, like a child being reprimanded. You felt your eyes flood with tears.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

His voice was firm and harsh as he snapped over his shoulder at you, glaring.

“You can’t help. You’re not a part of this.”

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, desperation clawing inside of you as you threw back the blankets, swinging your legs off the side of the mattress so you could approach him.

“But maybe I can, Marc, if you’d just give me a chance, if you’d let me—”

“Stop!”

He whipped around to face you, voice louder than you'd ever heard it before. He was yelling, towering over you as he snarled, fuming.

“Just stop. If you keep this up, you’re gonna get yourself and a lot of other people hurt. You’re not a fucking Avatar—”

“You don’t think I know that?”

Marc flinched when you matched his intensity, the tears falling down your cheeks a stark contrast from the sheer anger that dominated your expression.

“You don’t think I realize that? Or think about it every goddamn night when I have to sit here, alone, wondering if you’re gonna show up, or if you’re somewhere dead and I can’t do anything but wait.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to swallow your tears down as you broke down in front of the man, your internal conflict reaching a boiling point and spewing out of you without warning.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wished I could be out there with you, doing something, helping, anything—how often I imagine what it would be like if I wasn’t fucking useless, if I was actually a part of—”

“What did you just say?”

Your eyes snapped open, and your anger faltered when you saw the look of pure horror on Marc’s face, his skin looking several shades paler than it had before. Your mind was reeling, trying to look back on what you said, what your mistake had been, but he quickly clarified for you.

“Did you just—are you saying you wish you were an Avatar?”

His body was rigid, his expression suddenly stony and impenetrable as he looked down at you, offering a barely perceptible shake of his head as he grimaced.

“How could you—how could you possibly want that? Why would you ever—”

You could see his eyes turn glassy as he turned away, his chest beginning to heave again as he ran both of his hands through his hair anxiously, his gaze suddenly appearing frenzied. His words were laced with something adjacent to betrayal.

“You have no idea what—what I wouldn’t give to go back to my life before all of this, to—to not carry this weight, to not—I fucking kill people, do you not understand that? I’m a monster, because my life is fucking controlled by a monster, and you wish you were like me? You wanna suffer like this?”

“At least we’d be suffering together.”

It was barely more than a whisper, your addition, but Marc caught it. You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore—you turned and sat back on the bed, folding your hands in your lap and staring down at your fingers as your heart finally poured out of your chest.

“I don’t know what else I could do, Marc. I don’t know any other way to get you to actually see me.”

“See you?”

He asked incredulously, face marred with confusion, and your lip quivered as you looked anywhere but at him, awaiting his rejection as you spoke.

“I just—all I’ve ever wanted was to be able to help you. To—for you to trust me, for you to—to care about me, and—and the only scenario I can actually imagine you wanting me is if I’m not myself, I’m a version of myself that’s actually strong and capable and—”

You stifled a sob, your face scrunching up as your arms wrapped around yourself in a protective stance, huddling inward as you cried.

“—I don’t know what I’m trying to say, but I just—I want to be more than I am because—because I want to matter to you, Marc, but I know that won’t happen because I’m just—I’m just me.”

Marc fell silent. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you squeezed your bleary eyes shut, forcing yourself to take slow, deliberate inhales despite your desire to hyperventilate. You felt like the room was closing in on you, the walls shrinking and shrinking and you wished the space would swallow you whole.

“What have I done to ever make you think you don’t matter to me?”

His voice was soft and quiet, and when you blinked your tear-filled eyes open, he was staring at you, a look of genuine hurt on his chiseled features. You stuttered.

“I—what?”

“I—”

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“Why would you ever think that I don’t care about you? That you have to—to be someone else for that to happen?”

He sounded broken, his big brown eyes wide and imploring, and the sight made your chest feel tight. You pressed the butts of your palms into your eyes.

“I don’t know, Marc. You’re—you’re a fuckin’ superpowered badass who was chosen by an ancient Egyptian god to beat up monsters and go on these epic missions, and—and how can I even compete with that? I don’t even understand why you waste your time with me.”

“Why do you keep saying things like that?”

You startled when he took a few hulking steps towards you, his brows creasing in a look of frustration.

“If you’re so convinced that I’m some superior being to you—which I’m not—then rationalize that, for me. Why would I keep coming back if I didn’t care about you?”

Confusion flashed across your face as you contemplated his question.

“Because—because I patch you up when you get hurt, and I—and I take care of you. You only come here when you need something—”

“But that’s not true.”

He insisted, sounding exasperated with your obstinance.

“I have a magic suit of armor that heals me, I don’t even need you to stitch me back together—”

“But you told me—”

“Well, I lied.”

He snapped, his arms crossing over his chest, and you felt a foreign feeling flutter in the pit of your stomach as his hands came up to rub at his jaw—a nervous habit.

“It was an excuse, and honestly, not even a very convincing one. An excuse to see you.”

Your head was starting to pound again, a dull ache blooming behind your eyes as your mind continued to reel. It didn’t make any sense.

“But you—you never needed an excuse. I would’ve dropped everything for you, Marc—for all three of you.”

“I know.”

He nodded sadly, his face pained as he flinched at your words.

“And that’s what’s so bad about all of this. I shouldn’t have—you shouldn’t feel that way about me. I’m—it’s dangerous. I’ve been trying so hard to push you away because if something happens to you, if you get hurt—that’s on me. And I don’t know what I’d do with myself if—”

“I’m a big girl, Marc.”

You defended, and he seemed impressed with the conviction of your tone.

“You’ve never been anything but honest about the kind of life you live, the kind of things you do—if that scared me, you wouldn’t be standing here right now. I made that choice for myself.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, his lips parting to scold you or deny your claims, but there was resolve in his eyes. You watched as he slowly walked towards the bed, slumping into a seated position beside you, utterly defeated.

“I know.”

It was difficult for you to focus with the proximity of your bodies. He’d left a generous gap between the two of you, but his legs were spread wide as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and your legs were almost touching. It was unbearable.

“I always thought you were taking advantage of me.”

You spoke smally, a bit ashamed and hesitant to admit the truth, and you saw Marc’s shoulders tense before he hung his head low, a deep sigh coming from his chest.

“Yeah. Jake told me that you might be feeling that way.”

Your eyes darted to his face, taken completely by surprise.

“He—he did?”

Marc chuckled ruefully, scoffing a bit at his alter.

“And I never fuckin’ listened. Told me I needed to come clean—be honest about how I feel, or else I’ll just keep hurting you more—”

“I didn’t realize he’d actually tried to talk to you about it.”

Marc’s brows furrowed.

“Wait, are you—did you tell him that?”

You blushed, feeling somewhat guilty as you nodded. You weren’t proud of the fact that you’d been talking about Marc and Steven behind their backs to their other alter.

“Why did—why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Marc leaned towards you, trying to catch your gaze with his, but you quickly looked forward again, eyes focusing in on your shaky hands.

“I didn’t know if—I never had to question things with Jake. He’s never been shy about how he feels about me.”

“Jake’s never been shy about anything in his entire goddamn life.”

You actually giggled at that, Marc’s tone sour and somewhat envious, but a soft smile easily curled on his lips at the sound of your laughter. When your amusement faded slightly, your breath caught in your throat when you felt a warm hand fall atop your knee, thumb rubbing over the flesh gently. You stared at the place where his skin met yours, heat flushing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. If I would’ve known sooner—if he’d have told me—”

You shook your head quickly, dismissing his apology.

“No, don’t. I made him promise me he wouldn’t tell you. And—and the reason I didn’t say anything is, well—he would never tell me if you felt the same, so I didn’t—I just kind of assumed you didn’t.”

“I don’t understand why you think so little of yourself.”

His fingers gripped your knee a bit more firmly, the heat of his hand traveling upwards despite your attempts to stop it.

“You really think—thought the only way I’d want you is if you were an Avatar?”

You laughed wetly, swiping the last of your tears from beneath your eyes as you shook your head abashedly.

“When you say it out loud, it sounds so fucking stupid.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid.”

He corrected, and you froze when you felt his hand lift from your knee to reach towards your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he could see you more clearly. His fingers slipped beneath your jaw and gently coaxed your head to face him. You forgot how to breathe.

“It’s just not true.”

“Baby, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, Avatar or not.”

She let out a quiet gasp at his confession, face lighting up with delight as he surged forward and captured her lips with his own, whimpering against her mouth as his arms encircled her body. He guided her back towards the bed, laying her out beneath him, looking absolutely heavenly, truly ravishing, and the sight made him ravenous as he worshipped her, starting by dragging his tongue—

“Hey. Where’d you go?”

It was only a brief moment of wistfulness, your daydream, but Marc saw the way your eyes misted and filled with a faraway look. He let his fingers dance across the softness of your neck before reaching to cradle your jaw in his hand, fingers threading into the hair behind your left ear.

You blinked away your reverie, trying to ground yourself in the present regardless of how desperately you wanted to fantasize about how much you craved him, how much you just wished he wanted you—

“Sorry.”

You uttered, voice barely above a whisper, and you blinked up at him through your wet lashes, doe-eyed. Your shame quickly melted away into something entirely different when you saw the ghost of a smile flicker over his lips.

“What were you thinking about?”

Your breathing stuttered, and you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off quickly, the timbre of his voice low and gravelly.

“You can tell me, sweetheart. Whatever it was, whatever you want—I’ll give it to you.”

It all became too much too quickly—the swirling heat of desire coiling lowly in your abdomen, the warmth of his exhales across your face, the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your cheek, the almost taunting gleam in his dark eyes. His promise emboldened you, and without much thought, you surged forward and captured his lips in your own, whimpering against his mouth as your arms encircled his body.

He was quick to meet your pace, his free arm twisting to wrap around your lower back so he could pull you into his lap, one of your hands sinking into his brown curls and the other digging into his right shoulder. You heard him groan into your lips and you took the opportunity to sink your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss as you pressed your body flush against him, desperately seeking as much closeness as possible.

When his lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw and throat, you were pulled out of your stupor.

“Wait—wait.”

You whispered, fingers tugging at his curls so you could see his face. His brows furrowed in concern as he looked at you with worried eyes, his lips dewy and kiss-swollen.

“What’s wrong?”

He asked carefully, his voice gruff but still attentive, and you lifted both hands to cradle his face, thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones as you drank in his features, studying his face carefully.

“I just—”

You let out a shaky exhale, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I need to know that this is real. That you’re—that this is all real.”

He pulled away from you slightly, grinning somewhat wolfishly at you.

“This is real, baby—does it feel real?”

You nodded eagerly, your lips still tingling from the severity of his kisses, and he pulled you in for another one, his touch deliciously bruising.

When he pulled away again, you felt his fingers trace down your arm before he grabbed your hand in his. Your brows furrowed in confusion as he guided your grasp between your bodies, but your hips jolted when he pressed your hand into the hardness of his bulge in his jeans. You whimpered at the feeling, fingers curling around his length to squeeze him. His lashes fluttered.

“Yeah, baby—you feel what you do to me? That’s fuckin’ real.”

You felt yourself grow increasingly desperate at his words, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head with abandon. He seemed in tune with your own neediness because pretty soon, clothes were being ripped off and haphazardly tossed around the room, lips meeting newly-exposed skin at every opportunity.

You were laid out beneath him, his body slotted between your parted legs as he hovered over you, pumping his cock languidly as he gazed down at you with hooded eyes.

“I’ve pictured this, too, you know.”

You felt a small smile find your face.

“Really?”

He bit his lip, the pace of his hand jerking his length speeding up just slightly.

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby. You’re even more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

His sweet compliment was a stark contrast to the depravity of the current situation, but you could hear the sincerity in his words. You smiled up at him, reaching forward to take his cock in your grasp and line him up with your awaiting entrance.

“And you’re even bigger than I ever imagined.”

You purred, watching his eyes flash with pride as he leaned forward to brush the tip of his cock through your sopping folds, causing you to mewl unsurepetitiously.

“Please, Marc, shit—I can’t wait anymore, please.”

He grinned wickedly down at you, and before you could even take a breath, he was plunging into you with force, his cock sheathing itself fully within the softness of your cunt.

He choked above you, his arm slamming down on the mattress beside your head for support, his fist curling into the sheets.

“Jesus fuck, you’re tight.”

He breathed out, his expression almost pained with just how perfectly your walls were squeezing him.

The sudden intrusion was a startling sensation, but the burn of the stretch was quickly evolving into an addictive sting of pleasure.

“Oh, God, yes—move, Marc, please.”

You begged, brows furrowed deeply, and Marc quickly obliged, starting a rapid pace as he hammered into you, his hips snapping forward with jarring strength. The sound of slapping skin echoed within the room and only served to add to your arousal, the noises leaving your lips sinful and completely involuntary.

“Fuck yeah, baby—is this what you wanted? This what you’ve been daydreaming about, huh? My cock filling you up?”

You moaned wantonly, back arching at Marc’s words. His curls were falling across his forehead, dampened with sweat, and you reached up to grip his shoulders for support, fingernails digging into the carved muscle.

“Yes, fuck, yes—so good, Marc, so fucking good—”

He reached down and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, the new angle earning a sharp cry. Your walls were fluttering around him.

“Yeah, you wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum on my cock?” He hand reached between your bodies to thumb at your clit, and the added stimulation sent you suddenly toppling over the edge into your orgasm, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let out a long, drawn-out moan.

“Yeah, attagirl—fuck yeah.”

Your walls were clamping down on him, pulsing rhythmically over the ridges of his cock, and he felt his release rapidly approaching.

“You want my cum, baby?”

You nodded frantically at him, eyes wild with desperation, and Marc groaned as his pace began to stutter.

“Where, baby? Where do you want it?”

You fingers sank further into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Mouth—want you to cum in my mouth.”

Your request alone was enough to send him hurtling over the edge.

“Oh, shit, gonna cum—”

He pulled out of you quickly, hand reaching down to fervidly fist at his cock as he crawled forward to straddle your stomach on his knees—you eagerly leaned forward just in time as his balls drew up tight, his cum shooting straight across your awaiting tongue as you opened your mouth wide for him.

“Oh, baby—fuuuuckkk—”

His hips thrusted into his fist with each pump of cum that escaped him, some shooting above your lip and dribbling down your chin. He grunted harshly as he tapped the tip of his cock over your tongue, coating the head in his release that had pooled within your mouth. You quickly closed your lips around him and suckled the tip into your mouth, swallowing all of his seed as you swirled your tongue around his length.

He let out a low groan before he finally reached forward to tug you off of him, collapsing onto the mattress beside you heavily.

You both caught your breath for a few moments, coming back down to Earth after your intense climaxes.

It was Marc who broke the silence first, a deep chuckle coming from his chest.

“If this is what you’re constantly daydreaming about, then fuck—you gotta tell me. I will make every goddamned one come true.”

Your laughter matched his own as he reached over to wrap an arm around you, pulling you towards the warmth of his body comfortingly. Your smile quickly faded as the heat of the moment made way for reality.

“Was this—I mean, this wasn’t just—just a one-time thing... right?”

Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering along your hairline.

“No, baby. Besides—Jake and Steven haven’t even gotten their turns with you.”

His attempt at a joke fell flat.

“That’s not what I mean.”

You said quietly, and Marc sighed, letting his head rest atop yours as he held you close.

“Sorry. I know what you meant, but still, the answer’s no. Kinda hoping this is an all-the-time thing.”

Now, you laughed, and he swore it was his favorite sound in the entire world.

You had a brief conversation with Steven about your mutual feelings, later—although he was a stuttering mess, his smile was wide and eyes were bright with elation when he finally kissed you. He fell asleep holding you close to him, and you listened to his breathing slow as you began to doze off beside him.

Just when you were about to fall asleep, his arms around you squeezed tighter.

“Told you so.”

Jake’s voice taunted jokingly, and you lifted a fist to punch his shoulder at his teasing. He chuckled, and you tilted your head so you could see his face—he looked relaxed, truly at ease, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

You admitted defeat, and Jake gave you a cheeky lopsided grin before he leaned down and gave you a soft, chaste kiss that left you breathless.

You rested your head back against his chest, but he interrupted your peace yet again.

“Can I ask you somethin, nena?”

You nodded.

“You told Marc you imagined being an Avatar. ’m just curious—what kind of things do you think about?”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, still feeling silly and insecure about admitting to your daydreaming habits, but Jake gently encouraged you enough until you relented, explaining how you’d always had an infatuation with the deity Nut and liked the poeticism of the pairing of the moon and the stars.

“And you called me estrellita.”

You informed shyly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, but you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, his muscles tensing just slightly.

“Estrellita?”

He questioned, and you lifted your head to look at him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, it—it means ‘little star.’”

You explained, and he shook his head.

“I know that, but I—hmm.”

His lips pursed, and you nudged him, his confusion worrying you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before staring back up at the ceiling, his expression contemplative

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just—today, when Khonshu came to tell us that you were in trouble, he—he called you that. Little star.”

You bolted upright, the color quickly draining from your face.

“He fucking what?”

Jake shrugged uneasily, but you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest, recalling the bizarre intrusion Khonshu had made in your fantasy today, interrupting your own train of thought. Was that—actually him?

Little did you know, Khonshu had been eavesdropping on your daily mental escapes for some time, entertained by both your active imagination and the elaborate stories you seemed to conjure up on a whim. As a matter of fact, both he and Nut found great amusement in your investment in the life of the Egyptian deities, and should something happen to the Goddess of the Sky’s current Avatar—she knew exactly where to find her next candidate.

𝐖𝐖𝐖.𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘 | gojo satoru.

SUMMARY: you wanted to surprise your roommate on his birthday but end up getting surprised yourself and find out he’s a popular camboy streamer.

CONTENT: f! reader, camboy!gojo, modern!au, overstim, cùnnilingùs, degradation, dumbification, praising, humor, switch gojo, puthy drunk gojo, edging, spanking, fìngerìng, crèampies, tummy bulge, he’s a brat, breath play, size kink, walked in on (pet names: angel, baby, pretty girl) — wk: 5k

MOD: my entry for @fuwushiguro‘s cybersex collab !! alsoooo this is a lil spin off of toji’s ver lmao >.^ enjoy the stream ! ;)

SONG INSPO.

“Huh? Why do you guys keep asking about my roommate,” Gojo furrows his eyebrows, before shaking his head with a faint giggle. He sat in his shared flat — spindling in his chair a bit that matched his icy blue set up, his cerulean eyes scanning through the tremendous amounts of love and awful thirsty comments he’d gotten. Gojo tilts his head with a sly shrug. “Nah, she’s not here. I think she went to go run some errands. Something like that,” and then he pauses, reading particular comments the many women asked and it made him laugh cheekily. “Yeah…. she’s pretty,” and then he pauses again — glancing down at the bright blue screen and his face burns up while his facial expressions cutely contorts. “Okay, now you guys are just saying some real horny shit. All I said was that she’s pretty!”

sukunascumrag: you were just getting off while thinking about her earlier—

dolly_lolly15: Lol no one cares twerk for us

tojisyummyexpiredpubes: Omg Gojo Y/N collab when??? You’d make bank

Gojo playfully rolls his eyes at the provocative lewd comments but couldn’t help but start to fantasize about you — the both of you were close friends, maybe there’d be some moments here and there but he didn’t really think of it much until now. And as he’s pondering deep in thought, blocking his chat and everything out— he doesn’t even realize that he’s stroking his already sensitive flaccid length.

“F-Fuck,” he sibilates, leaning back against his chair for his audience to get a view. Gojo‘s face was a deep flustered state once the image of you pops in his head, and a little whine slips out, wishing you were here — replacing his hand with maybe your hand… or your mouth. “Heh.. maybe you guys were right… Y/N‘s so…” and he pauses, letting off another shaky moan from his strokes before he freezes once he hears a familiar voice.

“Sorry I’m late, Satoru. Literally every store ran out of those little gummies you like and—” and you paused, taking the sight of Gojo in a slutty silk robe that complimented his bright eyes, hearing the occurring ding sound of the donations he got. You stood at the doorway, your mouth nearly agape slightly before you let off a conflicted giggle. “Were you just… I- you’re a camboy?” and then you furrow your eyebrows. “Is that….. my robe?”

Gojo blinks rapidly a few times before he covers himself — clearing his throat while looking up at you. “What- of course not, we just happen to own the same one!” and then his eyes briefly darts towards his viewers who are practically begging to see you as he mutters a quiet, “Guys not now!”

“Uh huh,” you nod suspiciously before strolling over towards him. Getting up directly behind Gojo, you lean forward while staring at the screen of the blue light that reflected against your face as you were almost in awe at how many people were watching your roommate’s stream. 12k? Beginning to think of the lewd things he probably did while you weren’t here started to make you feel hot a little. “Hi guys.” You smiled, slinging your arms over Gojo and your head‘s pressed against his while you skim through the comments.

sukunascumrag: I think I just came from hearing her voice

[MOD] getōsmonkeybusiness: ^ same

**yeagershairycoochie donated 153 hearts to the stream!**

definitelynottojifushiguro: How’d I even get here I was just looking up how to avoid paying child support wtf

Gojo looks up at you with widened eyes once you stare down at him sitting in his chair — and your eyes trail down his body. “So you’re really a camboy?” and your tone is genuinely curious, planting your hands onto the desk while staring at him, and oh Gojo‘s blushing so hard. He’s trying to play it off but he’s so embarrassed that you caught him. He was so distracted thinking about you that he totally forgot you were coming back.

“Yeah…” is all he says, and you catch him openly gawking at your body — you were dressed down minimally, but all you wore was a slight oversized uni hoodie with short jet black biker shorts underneath that practically looked like you wore nothing underneath. Gojo‘s blue eyes roamed everywhere, before he met yours again, speaking in a playfully nervous tone, “I- uh was gonna tell you! I just forgot we had plans for my birthday and uh.. I was having a subathon and—”

“Just say you wanna fuck me, Satoru.” You cut him off with a sweet giggle and he watches you plop down on your lap. Gojo‘s eyes immediately widens — feeling you straddle him, and he nearly lets off a grunt from feeling you shift a bit while feeling the little cameltoe between your legs graze against his excited hard cock that hid beneath his- well your robe.

Gojo stares at you with a timid dumbfounded look before he intakes a sharp breath, snaking his fingers near your waist. “I …wanna fuck you,” and you watch him stare at you with a glint of lust in his eyes, and let off a cute surprised gasp once you feel his slender fingers trail up your thigh and he gently pulls you into a deep and steamy kiss. He sort of expected you to pull away but you didn’t. Gojo grips onto your hips as you gently cup a hand near his right flustered cheek, feeling his tongue softly part between his pink lips and he lets off a little moan once he feel you deepen this kiss further — and he could taste the sweet saccharine filled lip gloss that coated your lips, it was sweet like enchanted honey.

After a while, the both of you pull back to recollect each others breaths — glistening faint trails of spit departing before Gojo suddenly lifts you up — placing you gently on the bed, frosty messy strands all in his face and there‘s such lust filled in his dilated pupils once he pulls you towards the edge of the bed. You sit up, watching him peel off your shorts with his teeth while staring forward at the chat — letting off a little teasing giggle. “You.. do know what you’re doing, right?”

“I know how to eat pussy!” Gojo retorts, and he his eyebrows contort as well — he genuinely sounded offended.

You stare up at him with a cheeky sly grin, unaware how much you were about to eat your own words from teasing him. Gojo makes sure his thousands of viewers can see his every move, sprawling your legs out a bit before he pulls you up just a bit before he makes one long stripe on the little pretty padded part your panties, intentionally staring up at you with low lidded eyes, and he could already taste how sweet and soaked you were.

“F-Fuck,” you sharply gasped — and you felt Gojo lean towards your thighs to coat the fat of your shaky legs with kisses and nip marks of his pearly whites but you yank his hair gently with a little moan leaving your mouth. “Don’t tease me, Satoru. Thought you were gonna eat m-me out.”

Gojo lets off a little giggle, starting to peel down your panties before he drags a pale thumb down your needy swollen cunt and stares up at you. “Heh. I‘m going to. Keep teasing me and I won‘t,” and your body shudders — feeling Gojo start to dig in, and you didn’t expect him to be sloppy because the first thing he does is gather a sheeny wad of spit — coating it on your pussy before starting to eat you out. One rough hand grips into your right thigh as you start to moan, already failing to keep your legs steady so he has to help pry them open with his face dug in between your legs. “Mmph— wanted to taste this sweet— pussy for s’long,” he‘d moan between each devouring suckle, and your chest starts to heave from his tongue that’s wandering all sorts of places of your cunt.

“Sat—oru,” you’d whimper, letting off a shaky breath from feeling his tongue slowly lick up and down between your puffy folds, making his tongue lay flat a bit so he can play with your clit more, until he starts to suck and suck as if he was some sort of ancient vampire— your pussy was appetizing to him, he couldn’t get enough. You wouldn’t be surprised if Gojo was already pussy drunk. “Oh my g—god your tongue,” you sobbed out, and it’s not long before your eyes reach towards the depths of your skull — combing your slender fingers through his white messy strands.

He’s so filthy, eating you out in such a salacious manner, one hand gripping onto your thigh as his head moved just a bit. Gojo‘s eating your pussy out like a starved man — you were feeding him so good, it’s safe to say he was addicted to your sweet cunt now.

You let off a trembling candied whine, gripping onto his hair as if it was velcro — your eyes darting towards the chat, the constant sounds of the donation notification continuously dinging, and you noticed since you showed up his viewer count doubled within minutes. The lights flashed within each of the messages flooding and you read some of them with dilated half-lidded eyes.

throatgoatbaby_17: why can’t i be y/n she’s so lucky :((((

definitelynottojifushiguro: Lol I can eat pussy better than that. Y/n hmu

itachiscumbucket: Bro was waitin his whole life to eat Y/N out-

“S’good,” Gojo moans, lolling out his tongue just a bit — and his frosty lashes were nearly closed, and he was definitely drunk between your folds. Your mouth opens up just a tad bit once you feel him easily insert a finger inside and you’re rested back against the fluffy cushioned box spring. He‘s real slow and gentle — completely opposite of his tongue before he slides another digit inside and you’re producing the most sweetened melodic moans imaginable, you were like this now from his fingers, you could only think of what his cock would feel like. Just imagining it was enough to make your mouth salivate and water. “Mh—fuck,” he‘d mumble — and his two fingers slowly piston in and out, pushing you closer and closer near the edge, the sounds of your sloppy wet cunt squelching from the immense stimulations ring in his red tipped ears before he looks up at you with a sly grin, a little giggle leaving his throat. “Don’t be shy, pull on my hair a little angel.”

You hated how smug he was — even being propped between yours legs, so kinky. But you tug on his hair, grabbing a fistful of his white silky locks. Gojo lets off a giggle before a little slutty moan came directly afterward. But that‘s when you let off a loud shrilling whimper — feeling Gojo‘s slightly frigid tongue slurps your cunt clean but you also felt his two slender fingers curl in a lewd way, shimmying its way upwards until it tapped against your g-spot. “S—Satoruuu, right there please please… gonna cum— f-fuckkk..”

Gojo looks up at you with a cheeky grin — your slick well running down his chin before a little pout tweaks on his pink lips. “Cum…? Aw, but I‘m not done eating! Can’t you be a good girl and wait a little lo—”

“F-Fuck you Satoru please I can’t,” you merely sobbed, eyes rolling back from his tongue. The pool of heat that resided in your tummy continued to make an appearance and your ears started to ring. “Let me cum p—please,” and you feel him laugh against your clit — his tongue slowly dragging up and down, left and right while occasionally nibbling against your little throbbing nub as well as making plenty of love towards your clitoral hood with his mouth.

“Heh, go ahead.. I guess,” and his tone‘s still playful — finding it cute how you could barely hold onto his hair for leverage, hearing your little sweet breaths quicken and the back of your head plops against the bed, you let out the most sweetened orgasm. It sounds like a harmony, a lewd harmony at that, but it gets Gojo so hard knowing he made you sound like that. All from his tongue. “Mph—good girl.” he says between slurps and suckles, cleaning you real good with his tongue, making sure to not miss a single taste.

Once he breaks away from your mouth, Gojo pulls you in for a warm chaste kiss — and he moans in your mouth while you can immediately taste yourself on his tongue. You taste sweet, and he gets on top of you, one hand gently caressing the middle part of your throat before breaking away once he lies you back, panting a bit with a flustered face.

Gojo opens his— your robe, and he’s ripped, completely lanky and chiseled, and your eyes immediately went towards his hard cock that presented itself to you and his audience on his cam show as well. Gojo‘s dick was pink and pretty, adequately well trimmed, a little droplets of excited pre-cum leaking from the sides and he had a little curve, and he had extreme girth. It was safe to say Gojo was big. “Ooh. Like what you see?” He giggled cheekily once he caught you staring, and he gave himself a few pumps — you rolled your eyes, turning away and he hums before crawling closer towards you. “Mmm. Be a good girl and spread your pretty legs, angel.”

You do, sprawled on the bed a bit while Gojo holds his length with one hand — another laid flat on your tummy, and he lets off a soft moan as he swiped the tip of his swollen eagerly pink tip against your folds, and he felt you already pulsating and throbbing. “S-Satoru,” you whined, feeling the arch in your back starting to commence. “Don‘t tease me.”

“Okay fineeee,” he playfully pouts — darting towards his screen, and he smiles, taking a few seconds to read off a list of top donators, thanking them for their tips and contributions before he turns to you, and he lets off a little shaky breath. “S’just— your pussy’s so pretty.” And then he starts to sink in and oh the way your jaw slowly starts to drop, that feeds his ego so good as he’s watching your little cunt try to take him fully — and he’s so big, stretching your pussy out like an elastic band.

“F-Fuckkk,” you quietly sibilated, nearly choking on your words as his girth introduced itself to your clit. Gojo‘s hand still laid on your tummy, and he trails it low to where the bulge started to form with a little smug grin — a thumb gently grazing against your sopping cunt. “S’big.. ‘toru you’re not gonna f—fit.”

Gojo tilts his head — white strands of hair nearly in his face and occluding his vision before he hums. “Awww, baby don‘t say that. I’ll make it fit just for you, don‘t worry!” and you glance up at him with dilated pupils, little hearts starting to form in them while you watch Gojo teasingly lift up your right leg and leans in close to you. “Didn’t know my roommate had s-such a tight cute pussy,” he huffs out — and he kisses your ankle before sinking in further and further until he’s at the hilt. “Ah, shit…. you feel so warm inside Y/N,” and you shudder once he gives you one thrusts that makes you let off a cute whimper — watching your entire body jolt from the impact. “H-happy birthday to me. This is the best present ever,” and he’s starting to roll his hips against you, a grip on your hip before nearly gnawing on his lip with a flustered face. “My roommie’s pussy— s’good.”

You let off a quavery honeyed whine as he’s buried deep inside you now — pulling on your hips and his face is burning up, a faint splash of red embedded on his cheeks as he can’t keep his eyes off you. Gojo‘s chat was going completely ballistic, the majority of his demographic of mostly women flooding the comments with the most filthiest things imaginable. Some were so incredibly jealous of you — their favorite pretty camboy‘s fucking you and not them, and for some reason it brings a little smile to your face.

“O—oh my goddd… ‘toru,” you gasped and you felt like you were gonna break, snap, and tear all at once. He was so ridiculously big — the hefty base of his cock repeatedly slapped against you, scratching such a good itch in your brain you almost lose your train of thought for a second. If you knew your stupid hot roommate could make you feel this good, you’d let him fuck you a long time ago. “Keep— fucking me like this and I’m gonna c-cum too quick.”

“Hmm. Then I’ll have to slow down, huh?” He teases, leaning up close to you with a smug grin, bringing a little peck on your chin. And you’re babbling — ferociously shaking your head and Gojo wriggles his eyebrows playfully. “No—? But you’re gonna cum too fast,” and he teasingly pouts, balls deep and his thrusts makes you nearly choke on nothing — feeling him hum softly, bright cerulean eyes studying your cute twitchy expressions. “Awww, I made it fit for you so you’re just gonna have to,” and he pauses to let off a shaky moan, one hand holding onto your thigh. “—be a pretty girl and wait just a little. Can you do that for me?”

You give Gojo a cute glare before letting out another sweet whine and he smiles, shifting his eyes towards the chat — tilting his head again with a few beads of sweat staring to race down his eyebrow. “Hmmmm, help me out guys. Should I let Y/N cum early?”

[MOD] getōsmonkeybuisness: you’re so gonna get banned again satoru

dolly_lolly: ya

touyadisintegrateddick275: yes :)

erenshotstepmom: Yes

definitelynottojifushuro: No.

Gojo rolls his eyes playfully at the thousands of viewers commenting, a majority of ‘yes’ while he’s still stuffed deep inside of you — fucking you insanely stupid before a teasing pout curls on his pink lips. “Pft. You guys are no fun,” and he fixated his focus back towards you with a sly smile. “Squeezing down on me s-s’much angel,” he pants, his hips mercilessly pivoting against your slick heat in an almost circular rotation. Gojo stares down at you — thin frosty eyebrows kneading together. “Go ahead. Cum all on me, pretty girl.”

Your entire body spasms as your head goes back just a bit — a wave of shock and goosebumps rippling out of you, and you came hard to where the noises you made are so high and stupid along with a quiet sudden ring filling your ears. “F-Fuck.” you sobbed, one of your legs wrapping around Gojo’s waist. He keeps his eyes on you once he slows down just a bit, leaning in to sneak a soft steamy kiss near your mouth. You still moaned, kissing back before sitting up and lightly shoving him back against the fat cushioned pillows.

“Hm…?” Gojo stares at you, an eyebrow slightly furrowed and he looks so smug, the pretty pink tip of his cock swollen and throbbing just a bit, veins showing an appearance near it while you made your way towards him — still shaking from your last orgasm. “Ooh. You gonna ride me? Think you can handle that?”

“Shut up,” you retorted, and he laughs while he lets you align yourself on his cock again. You just wanted to wipe that little condescending smirk on his face. Gojo leans back — some white strands of messy hair making its way to cover his brows. He lets out a little low grunt, feeling you plop down on his shaft, chiseled chest heaving just a bit and he still had your robe on. After this, Gojo would probably keep it, maybe hang it up on his side of the room. “S—Shit, stretching me s’much, ‘toru.”

“Gooood,” he sings, and he watches you start to rollick your hips against him, and it feels so good because your cunt‘s still sensitive but you just can’t stop bouncing on Gojo. He’s trying to keep up a tough facade but in reality he was about to cum his brains out — and every so often the tips of his ears get hot and a little flush of red prints on his face. “F-Fuckkk, you really know how to move your hips, pretty girl. Clamping on me so good—shit.”

You felt your face get hot from his words, and Gojo‘s starting to lose composure a little from the way your cunt‘s sloppily thrashing back against him. You‘re having a chase with your own erratic breathing and the crown head of his cock‘s reaching way deep past your g-spot and even your a-spot as well, sending your entire lower half into mere convulsions that you start to whine while one hand plants on his warm pale chest.

“You‘re.. gonna make me cum,” he gasps quickly, blue eyes nearly rolling back once you feel Gojo shortly afterward put a hand to grip onto your hip only to smack your ass. “Oh my g—godddd, you fucking whore. Riding me so good that I‘m g-gonna—” and he pauses to let off a long strained moan while he’s laid back, your pussy‘s making him so drunk and under the influence from the grip it has against him. Gojo then looks at you with a flustered face, eyes half lidded. “Y/N… you’re gonna make me cum in your,” and he lets off another breathy moan. “tight—pussy, fuck…”

“Cum inside me then,” you whined with a little pout squeezing on your spit-glossed lips. Gojo stares at you dumbfounded as if his eyes said ‘really?’ and you eagerly nodded — wanting more than anything to be filled, just envisioning your camboy roommates cum filling you to the brim nearly has you salivating again just from the raunchy carnal thought. “C‘mon, Satoru. Cum in me so I can s-show your viewers how good you stuffed me full, ‘toru.”

Gojo lets off a little whine before giving your ass a spank. “You’re… so filthy Y/N— thinking with your pussy instead of your brain, dumb girl. But.. but fine,” he groans, clinging onto your hips before he‘s about to spill a thick load inside. Gojo‘s moans are so slutty, and you whine yourself while occasionally glancing at the chat and see how they’re praising you and trolling Gojo, saying how they can‘t tell the difference of who‘s the girl, since his moans are so bratty and melodically high. “Take it then— f-fuck.”

The soft cushioned bed‘s making a mere mixtape of its own from the constant creaking, and Gojo moans — shoving you into his chest before he’s cumming, shooting ropes and ropes of his velvety cum inside of you, going into a complete frenzy. His hips shutter just a bit once he lies flat back against the pillow — a hand nearly covering his eyes as you sit on his lap, staring down at the mess he made inside you. You then crawled towards his cam set up, the chat being bombarded with messages and donations and you let off a soft whine, scanning some of the comments — Gojo in the background of the screen through your peripherals as if he was about to pass out. He was dramatic, still moaning with his face all red.

yeagershairycoochie: Y/n can u ride me like that pls-

c0wg1rlhater15: guys i think she broke gojo with her pussy

** karmasuxx and 1859 new viewers joined and subscribed to GOJODADDYXX’s stream! come say hi! **

nanamisfatballsack: Aww look at Satoru, he’s so cute :P

You then let off a gasp, feeling Gojo snatch you by your waist as you were reading the comments and you giggled, feeling him press a hand onto your hip. “I- I thought you were done, Satoru.”

“Of course I‘m not done!” He furrows his eyebrows, and he gently shoved you face down on the bed. You stared at his bright screen reflecting on your face with a smile — seeing Gojo‘s physique behind you, still with the bedazzled robe on before you feel him rub a thumb down your clit that was oozing with his cum and you let off a tiny frail whine, leaning down on your arms. “Could never be done with this pretty pussy,” and he‘s pouting a bit, before you feel him start to align himself again, inserting his fat dick inside you again and you let off a little moan, staring right at the dozens of comments that rolled through. “Fuck, still s-sensitive but can‘t help it,” he hissed with a little whimper, preparing to fuck you doggy, and Gojo starts to hit your sweet spots at a relentless pace with his hips.

“S—Satoru, fuckkk,” you‘d whine, and it was as if his stamina was completely replenished out of nowhere. Gojo leaned up close to you, bringing a hand to gently wrap around your neck like a necklace, caressing your passageway of your throat with his thumb and the noises you made were so lewd, eyes rolling and crossing because of the rough hits he made against your ass with his hips. Within a few moments, your tongue started to nearly loll out — and his tip is just profusely pounding in your cunt, clamping and squeezing down with your gummy needy walls. “Fuck.. me harder S-Satoru… right there please.”

Gojo grunts, bringing a spank to your ass and you giggle a little before moaning again. “F-Fine, but shut up and take it then,” he pants — and your face is practically being shoved into his computer screen — the bright flashing lights of his screen colliding with your vision, tip of your chin smashing against the keyboard and spewing out all sorts of keys and letters and nonsense. And now the chat‘s trolling you. Gojo‘s nostrils flare up a bit— his hips stuttering once again and you can barely keep up with the pace as your mouth opens up just a little, letting off the most long drawn out moan of his name. “Mhm,” he‘d faintly whine before you feel him pick your head up from behind — leaning in close so the both of you were shown on the screen, head‘s touching each other. “Look how dumb my roomie looks, guys,” and he giggles — holding your head towards the screen and your eyes nearly roll back. “You‘re such a nasty girl. Drooling all on my fucking keyboard.”

You whine from how good he‘s hitting you from behind — stirring up your insides with the ridges of his dick, and it‘s got you pulsating repeatedly from between your legs. The sticky mess that‘s running down your thighs is utterly sloppy and it only makes you throb and throb more. “S-Satoru,” you’d gasp cutely, reaching down to feel yourself. Your noises were so shaky because of hips pounding into you mercilessly— making your mind completely blank and go so stupid. “M’gonna cum again— gonna c-cum… Satoru.”

“Again—?” He purrs, and his voice is smooth a silly, a hint of smug against it once he’s near your face — letting off slutty moans against your ear, and the head of his dick continues to smack and thwack against your g-spot, sending your entire body into a frenzy. Gojo brings a hand up to your mouth, smearing the drool near your mouth and covers your mouth while staring at his screen, muffling your incoherent babbles. “Heh. Ladies, be nice! She‘s still my roommate, bet you guys wish you were Y/N huh?” and he pauses for a bit, bringing a small peck to your cheek while he’s still snapping his hips against you — watching your eyes repeatedly roll with your shaky arms propped up against his desk. “Wish this was you being pounded on my desk, hm? Y/N’s such a lucky girl. Think she might be my biggest fan after all.”

“S—Satoruuuu, please—” you‘d whine once he slips his hand from covering your mouth. He hums against your ear, and your voice is all pathetic and shaky. He‘s shoved and buried deep past your folds, it’s got you so feral and hungry for more as your right leg starts to bounce.

“Oh right,” he mumbles, sneaking a few kisses near your neck, and he‘s grinding his hips against you — and Gojo can‘t help but smack your ass a few times to hear you hit those high notes for him. He loves the recoil of it, it gets him harder and harder each sloppy moment and second that he‘s buried deep inside your cunt to the hilt. “But I dunno,” and he holds your head up again, giving his bright screen a little pout — eyes scampering down at the loads of thirst comments being presented to him along with the loud shrilling ding ding noise he kept getting, and he reaches for his mouse while still fucking you. His snowy colored eyebrows furrow once his stream starts to buffer. “Wha- Hold on, angel hehe. I‘m fucking lagging?! Damn I hate this wifi.”

Your eyes widened, nearly about to orgasm and here Gojo was worrying about his shitty internet connection. “S—Satoru,” you‘d sobbed, and he‘s shoving you against the desk, multi tasking at that as he’s got a hand grazed on your hips while another clung on his mouse. You smell his rich scent of cologne smash against your face, and it made you dizzy within each hit he made towards you that all the words you kept mumbling was his name — barely able to keep yourself up on the desk. “Satoruuuu— Satoru— gonna cum..”

“Wait wait,” he coos to your ear, and it‘s playful and low, making you cunt twitch before moments later his stream‘s back on and he lets off a little sigh of relief. “Finally! Hey guys, sorry about that,” and you‘re already cumming hard on Gojo‘s cock before you realize it — a spring of coil continuing to trough and snap, a shattering feeling that makes you nearly weak in the knees. Gojo stares at you and lets out a cheerful laugh. “Good girl,” and then he turns towards his screen, making you nod your head. “So good for Satoru.”

And then that‘s when the door opens out of nowhere.

“Gojo. I don‘t get why you wanted those unhealthy sugar coated things when Y/N‘s—”

You and Gojo both stare at Nanami and the room‘s all silent — well, not really since Gojo‘s still fucking you deep. Nanami stares at the door with his eyes squinting as if he’s questioning what he‘s seeing.

“Nanami!” Gojo grins cheekily, making you turn your head towards the screen — seeing the chat comments fill up with question marks, thirsting over Nanami now. “Hey man! Wanna join? My dick‘s getting pretty sleepy, heh.”

“………………..…”

One Day

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x fem!Reader

Word Count: 581

Summary: Fundraising and helping others is nice but Santiago can’t ever help himself around you. 

Warning tags: implied smut, indication of a breeding kink, fluff. 

A/n: I mean who doesn’t love Pope? ~ 🪐

It was a sunny day in Florida, which was perfect for the donation fundraiser that you were collaborating on with Santiago. You both came up with the idea that once a month you should give to the homeless population a starter pack of important items, specifically for women who were on their cycle. You would give them free ticket stubs for the train, band-aids, a scheduled appointment to get their regular check up by a doctor and other items. 

Along with a lovely durable backpack, it was filled with  band-aids, a tooth brush, toothpaste , condoms, tampons or pads and shampoos. As you were handing out the bottled water, you saw a group of children playing in the community park. One of them cried out to their mother that they wanted ice cream. But their mother was too busy speaking to her friend. Your heart felt a slight tug, but you were busy in the tent. You continued to pass out the essential items. 

Until you saw a man walking by with balloons, and cotton candy. That’s when the two little girls went completely screaming off their heads. You had to get these children something. You excused yourself from the tent. “Where are you going babe?” Santiago called out as you began walking away. You turned around quickly as you responded “I’ll be back in a moment!” 

Santiago watched you as you skipped out of the tent and politely walked through the coward. He had no idea what you were doing until he noticed the man with the trinkets and other items for children. Santiago smiled brightly because he knew that children were your weakness. 

Santiago couldn’t help himself to brightly beam as he watched you bought each child an ice cream, and a balloon. The mothers thanked you and asked you about the fundraiser. Santiago crossed his arms as he allowed himself to drown in your stance. The curve of your hips, ass and boobs were just turning him on. You weren’t doing it on purpose but just watching you was enough. You quickly excused yourself and rushed back to the tent. 

No one noticed you were  gone until you  heard someone whisper in your ear “You can never say no to a child, can you?” You cheekily smiled “ Santi, those children deserve to be happy. And if it’s ice cream that they want then it’s ice cream that they’ll get”.  You said protecting your ideology. 

Santiago  laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist. He brought you close to him and placed a kiss on your temple as he said “You are going to be a great mother to my children one day”. 

Your eyes widened but threw in a joke to mask your  heart jumping “Are you gonna make me one?” It was silent for a moment. You turned around and saw  Santiago smirking. You knew that smudged look  but you had no idea what he was about to say. 

“Maybe tonight Daddy will make you into one sweetheart”. He whispered once more into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

Santiago walked away to help to hand out another starter pack.  You shook  your head. You could never tell if he was just hooking or being serious. 

MASTERLIST, PROMPT LIST, NEWS

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the list): @romanarosearose @roninishere @moonlight-fox @toracainz @micheleamidalajedi @n1ght5h4d3-24 @ahookedheroespureheart @fizzymilkduds @wife-of-marc-and-steven @myfandomlikesandstories @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cocodiem @harley15dz @lonelyisamyw-0love @stevengrcnt @alexxavicry @moonknightdefender @mona-has-dreams @grumpyahjumma

Santiago. 

May Calamawy as Layla El-Faouly MOON KNIGHT | 1.03

spooky boys for spooky season

boo, they're gonna suck your blood!

Lana for Rolling Stone Magazine (2023)

so i watched everything everywhere all at once again yesterday and having seen the movie before made the line “you have unlimited potential because you’re so bad at everything,” which when I initially watched hit like a joke, wreck me. the idea that having hopes and dreams and hobbies that are half pursued isn’t wasted time rather proof that you yourself are limitless just. yeah. leave me be please.

every rejection, every disappointment

Gaby Moreno x Oscar Isaac - Luna de Xelajú

they need to invent a specific word to describe the GRRGHGAHGA RYRURGUGR AURURGRHGR. GGRGGRGRGRHGHAVAGGHRRUGRUGRHRGHRGHRGHR AGHAGHRGHGRHRGHRHA NRURGAHGAHGRHGHR emotion you get when you think about a special interest or hyperfixation too hard. nothing that currently exists gets it

yup… my final girls with the same vibe

Noooooo😂☠️

I am ready for this movie to become my entire personality

I’m sorry 🥺

through the storm | jake lockley

a/n: i'm squeaking i loved this. seeing jake be so rough on himself and finally giving himself what he needs; you. ugh, it's a trope I'm all here for every second of every day 💗 thank you to the beautiful nonnie who requested this ☺️

pairing: jake lockley x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, marc and steven are only mentioned,

summary: steven loves to cuddle through a storm, marc too. but jake can't give himself the pleasure of falling asleep in your arms, until finally you convince him.

w/c: 0.8k

moon boys masterlist

The rain poured against the top of the apartment, bringing you out of your book. You were cozied up in bed, watching as flashes of lightning illuminated the nook-like space. 

You yawned, feeling tiredness sweep through your body like a tidal wave. Stretching your limbs, your eyes follow the line leading to the door which was twisting open to reveal him. 

With a cap on his head, he shimmied out of his jacket in silence, droplets of rain meeting the floor beneath him.

“You’re home?” You call out, earning the man’s brown orbs to lift.

Jake. You knew exactly who was fronting. 

“Finished early,” Jake responds. “We’re in for some crazy weather,” He informs you.

You nod your head. “Which is the perfect nap weather, am I right?” You giggle, bookmarking your spot. Every time the rain came and a thunderstorm ensued, Marc and Steven would adoringly cuddle with you. Steven wanted to be as close as possible, while Marc enjoyed the sleep he got while wrapped in your arms. 

Jake deserved the same. 

He rarely gave himself over to a side of affection. Swearing to himself that his sole purpose was to protect Marc and Steven, he tried not to come around as much because he didn’t want you to suffer. He knew he could be bitter at times, but he had the best intentions. 

“Yeah,” Jake mumbles, fishing his belongings out of his pocket and placing them in the bowl. He walks through the room after removing his shoes, never once beelining for the spot beside you. 

“Jake?” You call his name.

“Yes, cariño?” Jake responds, the pet name making your face soften as your lips part. 

Another roar of thunder sounded outside, making you sigh. You really wanted him to let go for a bit– to know what it was like to relax. 

“Why don’t we take a nap together? We can be nap buddies.” You inform him just as he turns the corner. Jake’s eyes soften as he stares a hole through the side of the mattress that was currently vacant. 

“I’m fine, sweetness. Go on without me.” He deters. 

“Jake Lockley,” You clear your throat. “There is a persistent thunderstorm outside, and I want to cuddle. It’s the perfect nap weather! Come on, don’t be so grumpy.” You cross your arms. 

Jake glances to the side, certainly hearing as the rain pelted against the rooftop. 

Deep down, he wanted to. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to fall into your embrace, but he knew better. He couldn’t risk it. 

“Hermosa,” He says, but stops when he sees your bottom lip push forward. “–Don’t do that.” 

You shake your head. “I know you don’t want to–”

“That’s not it. I promise.” He stops. “Marc and Steven– they can. I’ll see if–”

“I don’t want Marc or Steven. No offense if they can hear me. I want you, Jake.” 

Jake was having a bitter internal fight. He could hear the voices of his alters chuckling and both persuading him.

Steven said you were like a physical form of honey. 

Marc said he wouldn’t regret it, it would be the best sleep of his life. 

Even the two boys wanted the best for their grumpy alter. 

Another ferocious roar of thunder seals the deal for Jake. He can visually see the room growing darker from the clouds overhead, and strikes of lightning slipping through the window panes. He takes a few cautious steps forward, watching as you eagerly move the sheets back.

Jake falls into them nervously and the moment he feels your hand caress his arm, he knew what Steven meant. You looked at him with such an adorable expression, your limbs tangling through his. He was stiff, and you were trying your hardest to coax him to relax.

“Come on, wrap your arms around me, Lockley. I know you can do it.” You tease him. 

Jake sighs and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

The moment his nose brushes yours, his eyes fall immediately to your lips. His mouth parts slightly and he feels a sudden rush consume him. Cautiously, Jake journeys his hand up the trail of your arm until he ghosts an index finger across your collarbone, soon delivering a feather touch to your jaw. He sees as your eyes dilate with pure adoration, pupils blowing wide as you gazed at him with a sense of longing. 

“Mi Vida,” He whispers. He cups your soft cheek, brushing his thumb underneath your eye. You melt into his touch and nuzzle your cheek against his palm. 

“Give into it, Jake… You’re safe here.” You reassure him. 

Jake closes his eyes, soon finding the softness of your lips. He brushes his fingers through your hair before he pulls you closer, the thunder rolling more repetitively now. 

He gives into the feeling, the way he feels safe. He lets it consume him, and soon, he’s fast asleep in your embrace. You’re cuddled to his chest as strong arms engulf you, crushing you to his body, but keeping you safe. 

The rain continued to pour and nothing could take this moment away from Jake.

not to be toxic but i knew hozier’s new song was going to be some kind of political statement and not the horny interpretation that people made thirst traps to on tiktok. i was waiting all week to feel vindicated.