Vampire Next Door ⋆⟡⋆ Miguel O'Hara x reader

Ch. 25 wet dreams *ੈ

NSFW 18+

He walks over to you, slowly. You turn to look at the deafening rain beating hard against the window. He turns your cheek to him.

"Miguel," you whisper. You reach out to the wet t-shirt clinging to his abs. He looks like a dream. He has to be.

He grabs your hand, gently holding it against him.

"I'm here," he whispers.

"I ... need you... please, " you whisper, as he slowly crawls on top of you, hovering over you now.

"Show me," he whispers, leaning into your neck.

His lips brush against your skin, he slides a hand down your waist. You grab his hand, guiding him down under the sheets, under your pajama shorts and against wet underwear.

He smiles against your lips.

"Are you real?" you breathe out.

He nods, pressing his lips to yours.

"Want me to prove it to you?" he asks, fangs brushing your bottom lip.

You nod. His calloused palm brushes up your lower belly, feeling your warm, soft flesh.

He reaches you, starting to slowly trace circles into you through your pajamas, then slowly lowers himself down, throwing the sheets over himself.

He drags his hand back down to your heat, rough fingertips touching you, so heavy, perfect pressure.

He raises your tank top up your belly, spreading soft kisses down your stomach. He kisses down your hips, pulling your shorts down.

He finally has you in just your underwear. You lift the sheets to watch as he slides them down, painfully slow, seductively. You comb your fingers through his wet hair, as he presses his lips to your heat.

You sigh, feeling his wet hair trickle on your lower belly, and his warm lips surrounding your sensitive bud. He sucks gently, fingers massaging your thighs.

He drags his tongue down your slit, gathering your slick along his lips, preparing you for the real thing.

Things get hotter, more intense, finally his hips roll into yours as his fangs dig into your neck.

You throw your head back as he maintains his rhythm; he knows exactly how to get you off.

You feel the knot in your core—the knot only he can tie, and the knot only he can unravel.

****

You wake up, turning to where Miguel once laid. He's gone.

You sit up slowly, feeling the wet mess between your thighs.

There are fingerprints bruised into your soft thighs.

After a night of blowing smoke and laughing on his couch,

you can't tell what's real and what's not anymore.

You're frustrated.

Your sense of reality is beyond off, but if it was just a dream... how lucky to have such a wild imagination...