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singmyaubade · 9 months

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Shades Of Cool

toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader

summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.

warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..

a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.

series

One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.

It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,

"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.

"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.

"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.

"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.

JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"

"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.

"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.

"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.

"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.

"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.

"And when-" Pope began.

"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.

You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.

You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.

But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.

All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.

But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.

"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.

You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.

Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.

Which meant the only choice was the beach party,

JJ cheered, "I win!"

You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.

It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.

You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.

Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.

You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.

All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.

But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.

And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.

You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.

You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.

His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.

You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.

"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.

His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.

He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.

You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.

You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.

"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.

"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.

"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.

"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"

"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"

"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"

"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"

"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.

"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.

"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.

"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"

"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.

He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.

"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.

Great attempt at being a gentlemen.

"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.

"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.

"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.

He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.

The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?

"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.

"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.

You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"

He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.

Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"

"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.

"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.

He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"

Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"

He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.

Asshole.

"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"

"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.

He really believed in this bullshit.

"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.

"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.

"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.

"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.

"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.

"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.

"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.

The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.

As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.

He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.

'What an asshole,' You thought,

Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.

You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.

You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.

You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.

You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.

You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.

You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.

Sounds like how they described him.

But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.

You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.

Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.

You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,

And everything went black.

tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22

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bluelockmaniac · 3 months

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༉‧₊˚. "𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐀𝐓?"

★ ft. itoshi sae x gn!reader synopsis. you catch your boyfriend staring at your ass , shocker !

notes. sae canonically has a butt fetish so i thought this would be fun to make, lol . also, established relationship (!!) and suggestive, ig (?) ps. new theme !!

you stood at the kitchen counter, preparing your morning coffee in your favourite mug as you vented passionately about the latest gossip from work to sae. "—and then, he had the audacity to put the blame on my friend! can you believe this man?!"

your boyfriend, who had just recently roused, leaned against the opposite marble counter behind you, stifling a yawn as he ran his hand through his disheveled hair. he nodded from time to time, an occasional soft hum escaping his lips as he listened to the silly frustration that laced your words.

little did you know, however, that your words were falling on deaf ears. his mind wandered, and the absent nods of his head were more reflexive than attentive. sae’s drowsy gaze was more drawn to the hypnotic sway of your hips as you added yet another spoonful of ground coffee into your mug.

soon, what was left of his attention perished as he let out a barely audible, unresponsive grunt. your sounds were thus unregistered and quickly drowned into the back of his preoccupied mind, slipping in one ear and vanishing out the other.

"—anyway, do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?" you ask after finishing your rant, setting down the spoon with a clink as you reach up to fetch another mug from the cupboard above. after no response came, you repeated, "sae, do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?" you quirk a brow, glancing at him over your shoulder. "earth to sae...?"

sae abruptly snaps out of his trance, halting his observation of your round backside. he blinks a few times, lagging, before he speaks in a raspy voice, "ah, your friend...?"

you turn around to face him completely, furrowing your brows. "what?"

"what?" he repeats, caught off guard. you look at him knowingly, sighing softly as you pinch the bridge of your nose to maintain your nonchalant demeanor. "itoshi sae." his body tenses at your usage of his full name, and his fingers stop their rhythmic tapping against the marble surface.

"how many kitty paws are imprinted on my pajama, from the back?" you question, your hands finding their place on your hips as you shoot him a feigned glare.

his half-lidded eyes flick down to your hands resting on your hips once more, lingering a moment longer than necessary, briefly noting how your pants hugged your figure perfectly. quickly, he lifts his gaze to meet your narrowed eyes. "like, twel— ... shit," his voice is cut off awkwardly, his elbows hitting the counter with a thud as he leans forward, burying his [hardly] guilty face in the curve of his hands.

"pftt, you're so indiscreet," you laugh, adding cream and sugar to his coffee, the spoon clinking against the mug as you stirred. "seriously, are you dating me or are you dating my ass?" you quip playfully.

he groans quietly, pushing himself off the counter as he approaches you. his larger hands find your hips, then swiftly move until they settle on your rear, rubbing small, gentle circles on the fleshy round globes. leaning in close, he whispers in your ear in a teasing tone, "can’t i appreciate how beautiful it looks?” his breath fans over behind your ear. “okay, sorry, it was hard to resist.”

“you’re adorable– ah,” a soft sigh leaves your mouth as his lips suddenly latch onto your exposed neck, trailing down sloppy kisses, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin. you shudder, fluttering your eyes shut at the feeling of him grinning against your nape. a small whimper caught in your throat as his arm snaked around, delivering a firm smack to your bottom.

"s-sae, you're such an ass..." you pouted, hands slightly pushing against his chest in an attempt to distance and control yourself. he cocks an eyebrow, a smirk ghosting over his lips as he moved towards the counter, holding onto his mug. he brought it to his lips, glancing at you over the rim as he sipped the warm coffee, his voice hoarse.

"hm, ironic."

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

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Dream You

Masterlist

wc: 4k

Synopsis: He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!chan, light bondage, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, pretty intensely fluffy they just rly love each other

☆ﾟ

4,000 followers! enjoy this lil idea as a thank you. i appreciate you!

You. Needed. Affection.

Just affection, and loads of it from one person in specific. Mostly because you were pretending to be mad at him and it made you miss him even more. Chan rarely makes you mad, he’s always good about communicating and listening, so the fact that you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why threw him off a little.

So there you were, sat on the couch wrapped in one of his hoodies eating straight out of the ice cream tub because you were too upset to do anything but count the seconds until he got home. You weren’t answering his texts, you picked up his call because you accidentally pressed the wrong button out of muscle memory and Chan could tell through the phone that today was just not a good day.

When he came home and found you sitting in the same spot that you were in when he called you– he knew this because you described it exactly as it looked, Chan almost collapsed at how cute you were. You had this ruffle in your brow and his hoodie looked like it was threatening to drown you in the black material. Gnawing on the spoon, your chest rumbled a little as Chan smiled his dimply smile and reached for the tub of ice cream to take away. “You doing okay, baby?” He chuckled trying to pop the spoon out of your mouth, wriggling it back and forth and swaying your head until you decided to let go.

“No, I’m mad at you,” there wasn’t much bite to the statement.

Chan pecked your forehead and ventured off to put the ice cream away, “oh yeah? Wanna tell me why so I can fix it?” He returned to stand behind you and lean over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around your neck and nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head.

Upset but still wanting the physical touch, you pulled his arms tighter, “dream you cheated on me.”

He popped his head around the side of yours to come face to face with a look of genuine shock. “Did he?!” Chan hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to you.

“Yeah. I caught you in our bed and everything. Then you broke up with me and posted the bitch on your instagram the next day.” You huffed and pushed him away with no force, turning to lean on the armrest and lay your legs over his lap. Chan rested his head on your knees, looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes that never failed to make you melt.

“I thought I taught him better than that,” he gently scolded. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is that why you didn’t kiss me back when I left this morning?

You nodded. “And why you weren’t answering my texts?” Another nod. “And why you can’t look at me because you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

You were half way through nodding for a third time when you caught his words, “hey! It’s not ridiculous! It could be a premonition, I could be psychic and get into fortune telling with how accurate I am.”

Chan closed his eyes and let his hands wander up and down your calves, lightly dragging his lips across the bare skin of your knees as he spoke, “mhm, mhm. Or it means that it’s never gonna come true. I like to think that, instead.”

It was getting harder to be mad when the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin made goosebumps rise, he loved watching the way your body reacted to him. It was never hard for him to work you up, physically and emotionally. Chan thrived on the effect he has over you, but it’s a two way street and you live for the way he’d do anything to please you. Even if it means apologizing for something he didn’t really do. In this reality, at least.

You wanted to be mad so bad that you debated on throwing him off you entirely, however his lips were just too plush looking and you craved to feel them on your own. Chan took his time to work them higher up your legs, eventually laying them and sticking his head under the hem of his hoodie you wore. He tugged you to lay flat so he could have more area to trace his pretty lips cross, the thoughts of being upset almost totally dissipating under his touch. Your leg instantly wrapped around his torso, to which he grinded lightly into the cushion. His hair tickled your bare chest as he peppers kisses across your belly, hands roaming your back to keep you near. He didn’t move as sexually as one might’ve thought from an outside perspective, it wasn’t to get into your nonexistent pants, you just got him so horny.

So horny to the point where he would’ve kept grinding against the couch if you didn’t feel like relieving him, he would’ve taken it like a champ if you denied him. You never do, though, as if you had the impulse control to ever tell him no.

Chan kept his movements slow, intentional, with the purpose of getting you to relax and see how much he loves you and how much an asshole dream-him was for cheating on dream-you. Big hands moved down to cup your ass under the fabric of your underwear, teething lightly above your belly button then soothing over the bite with his fat tongue. The wet muscle laved over the sore spots with the tip of his tongue, then flattening it, the tip, then flat again, alternating like he would if it were your pussy and were trying to get you to cum.

You wanted that, you always wanted his tongue on you. But now, you needed this more. The closeness and being able to keep him where only you can love and appreciate.

It felt so stupid to even be thinking that way, stupid that you had pulled such childish acts instead of just telling him in the first place. If you had just asked to be coddled, he would’ve given it to you without a second thought.

Chan needed this as much as you did, little to your knowledge. He could feel how off you were in the morning but really just didn’t have the time to fix it at that moment. It stung his heart hearing what dream-him did to dream-you, he couldn’t possibly imagine putting you through that, let alone move on so quickly if you ever were to actually break up.

No, he couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving you, it hurt too much.

His heart hurt for you, he could see the pain all over your face when he got home and it wasn’t even real life. Chan would rather die than ever let you go through something like that in this reality. In your dreams, well, there isn’t much he can do other than what he’s doing now.

Leaving chaste kisses anywhere along your torso he could, massaging your ass with his nimble fingers while heavily breathing in the scent of your skin. The quiet moans you were trying to suppress made him smile, able to feel your muscles tightening and loosening beneath his fingertips. He felt so warm against you, you wanted to thread your fingers through his hair and tried to from over the hoodie. Chan mumbled incoherently in protest and tugged the hem over his head again when you tried to tug it up.

“Wanna be close to you,” he murmured, going back to rubbing his cheek to your belly. You could only giggle and let him.

This was just Chan. Just purely and entirely him. Doing nothing and everything at the same time and making you melt into the palm of his hand, you’d forgotten why you were mad until he spoke again.

“Can’t believe I’d do that,” the barrier of material made it hard to hear him.

“Hm?” You hummed.

He slithered a little higher up your chest and you pulled the neckline to peak down into the dark shadows of the hoodie. You could see just one of his pretty brown eyes peering up at you sweetly, “who in their right mind would do that to you?”

Chan rested his cheek on your chest and stayed there, arms enclosing around your torso. “Dream-you did. And it really sucked.”

He whined this time, higher in pitch and wiggling to get comfortable. Your head back against the couch, you closed your eyes and let yourself calm down before you got worked up again. Chan could hear your heartbeat speed up, placing another soft kiss to the skin above it. You shivered and draped your arms over the back of his shoulders to succumb entirely to the feeling. Just as you finally relaxed, warmth engulfed your left nipple, wet and hot and being suckled into his mouth like a pacifier. “I’m trying really hard to be mad,” you admit while smiling to yourself, out of his field of vision.

“Please, don’t be,” he pleaded, “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll destroy anyone who tries.” It sounded silly coming from his mouth considering it was full of your tit, you couldn’t help a gentle laugh.

A few more moments of him playing with your breast, then switching to the other with no regard for the wet sounds that emitted from his suckling, you couldn’t take not seeing him anymore. You sat up as much as he’d let you and tucked your arms into the body of the hoodie, pulling your head through the neckline just enough so that the two of you were pressed chest to chest under the material.

It was dark and hot, you weren’t sure how he was able to stand being underneath it for so long. You couldn’t totally see him, but you knew he was looking at you– or at least, attempting to. You felt for his cheeks and held him just millimeters away, feeling his calm breathing over your chin. In almost total darkness, unable to see but could feel each other entirely, he whispered, “you’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You pulled him into you, savoring the fragile way he always tended to kiss you when you were particularly emotional, scared as if he’d break you. Handle with care, your heart said, and he did just that and more. Delicate. Do not touch, written outside the glass case he envisioned you in whenever something went even remotely in the opposite direction you wanted. It wasn’t that you needed the protection, by no means were you unable to handle yourself, but you invoked something in him that he couldn’t control. Fortunately for him, you let him smother you and baby you and wrap you in bubble wrap so tight you couldn’t breathe because it felt good to be seen. It felt good to be loved, and loved by him.

It was getting more and more difficult not to rut your hips against him, any part of him because he made you that insatiable. Chan could feel you trying to restrain and laughed against your lips.

“What if I want you to break me?” He glitched for a second, then went back to kissing you with a little more intensity.

“Then, I’ll just have to put you together again.” You ripped the hoodie away, leaving you naked in his hold aside from the underwear you were soaking through. “And break you, put you together again, and again, and again until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You felt the wave of butterflies flutter right between your legs and caved.

“Fuck– take me to the bedroom.”

Chan stood just to throw you over his shoulder effortlessly, entirely too excited for either of your own good. It wasn’t until now that you noticed he was still in those uncomfortably tight jeans he left in this morning, your mouth watered at the timely prospect of getting him out of them. You just couldn’t stop yourself from sending a light smack to his ass as he walked through the bedroom door, and he reciprocated with an even harder one to the bare skin of your own.

He laid you down gently just to cover your body with his own once again, not letting you strip him without your tongues laving against one another's. His shirt came off first, tossing it towards the headboard, your underwear, then his pants. Chan stopped you from reaching for his underwear so he could tease you, barely tugging the elastic down his hips and letting his erection catch in the fabric until he finally let it slap against his lower belly erotically.

Chan let them fall to the floor before kneeling tall onto the bed, “turn around,” he instructed. You followed and faced the headboard, seeing him reach around for his discarded shirt. Just barely could you feel his hot breath against your neck, “are you sure this is what you want tonight, baby?”

You hummed with desperation, “break me. Lovingly, please.”

Leaving a small peck to your cheek for reassurance, Chan grabbed your arms harshly and brought them behind your back. He used his forgotten shirt as a makeshift restraint, keeping you bound and tied up with no way of being able to touch him, you wondered what it was he had in store that required it.

Once he finished he sat opposite of you, falling on his back and watching the process of your mouth watering over seeing him in the perfect cock-sucking position. The redness of his tip, you would’ve thought it was painful if you didn’t know better. No, that’s a lie– it was painful. Painful watching you be so pretty and worked up and he was fighting the urge with everything in him not to untie you and lay you in the sheets like the pillow princess you so rarely got to be.

But it wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was to not think, be serviced and be of service, used to please. Tonight needed to end with you feeling weightless and not an ounce of sadness or anger left lingering to be found.

“Break you lovingly?” Chan called, tucking an arm under his head while the other stroked himself slowly. He swiped the bead of precum, beckoning you over with a single finger and forcing his thumb past your lips to taste. You hummed at the salty bitterness, the weight of him on your tongue and could feel yourself salivating. “Which do you want first, doll? Break you, or love you?”

Judging from the way you were practically drooling down his wrist, he took your lack of response as the former.

Stealing his thumb away, a thread of spit following, Chan laid back down and put both hands behind his head. “Go ahead. Be a good doll and suck.”

You folded so fast that it made him chuckle with pride knowing you were wanting him as much as he wanted you. Licking and twirling your tongue around the tip like hard candy, taking in as much of him as possible. Your own spit dripped down your chin and filled your mouth like a perfect hole.

Chan started to stutter up into you the further down you went. The more of him you took in, the harder it got not to thrust up. By the time you’d gotten to the point of lightly gagging, he was biting his lip to keep from losing all control. But then you looked up at him, eyes big and watery, tears already rolling down your cheek and you couldn’t even wipe it away. Nope, all self control completely obliterated by that single look. That fucking look, Chan physically felt his chest cave like crumbling sand between his fingers.

“I’ll fucking break you, baby. Don't worry your pretty little head, I’ll make you forget.” You couldn’t reply with his thick cock in your mouth, but could see you approve with the little nods you managed to give. “Be a good cocksleeve, yeah? Make me feel good.”

You took him as deep as you could, stilled as soon as your nose hit his pelvis and thought that was good enough since he groaned, loud and deep from within his chest. But you looked up at him again, this time just as the tears fell from your lash line. Chan tangled both hands in your hair and hooked his legs over your shoulders, cock still buried down your throat. He locked his ankles around the back of your head and pushed himself that much deeper to get you to gag harder. The sound that he emitted resembled that of a bear, hearty, unrestrained, feeling.

Oh, how he felt you. Felt the constricting of your throat around him, felt your tongue fighting to make room for you to breathe and failing, felt your tears wet the skin of his pelvis. Nothing but your safe word could have stopped him from pulling you off his cock for a split second to inhale a deep breath, then shoving you back down to abuse your throat like it was just a toy. For now, you were just a toy– his toy.

Lewd and adulterous squelching of your mouth slicking up and down his cock filled the room, overridden just by Chan’s moans of pleasure and your light humming to vibrate up his shaft. He was kind for a few moments– as kind as he could have been in this position, and eventually gave up seeing as you could still fight back. His lazy pushes and pulls of guiding your head up and down turned into him rutting up into your mouth in quick jabs, utilizing the headlock he had you in as leverage to move at what could have been neck breaking speed. His hands held you firmly in place as Chan did all the work now, focused on nothing but his own pleasure as your tears and spit mixed to puddle around his throbbing cock.

You were a gagging, crying mess and you loved every second. So much so that you spread your knees and tried to rub your puffy clit into the bunched up sheets. A few more upthrusts of his tip hitting the back of your throat, Chan let you go entirely. Without the stability of him holding you up, your weak body tilted to the side as you gasped for air, hips slightly twitching from the immense need built up.

He took a second to regain his composure while you caught your breath. Chest still heaving up and down, Chan forgot that your hands were still tied, wondering why you weren’t jumping his bones the second he let you free. Sitting up, he tilted his head at you with a sympathetic smile, “sweet doll, I haven’t even done anything to you yet. Anything left in here?” He mockingly tapped the side of your temple, to which it went unacknowledged. You just wanted him on you again, whining and trying to wriggle closer to him. “Hm, guess not. Did my job, didn’t I? Didn’t take very much effort, baby. You love me that much? Or you’re just a cockhungry doll.”

Through the soreness in your jaw, you managed to whisper, “l–love you.”

Chan chuckled, “I know you do. Love my sweet doll, too.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, ignoring the way you puckered your lips for more. Chan manhandled you to the center of the bed, keeping you on your side with arms still restricted from touching.

There was nothing you could do but let him do what he wanted with you, but this was the lovingly part. This, although bound on your end, was where he showed you everything he couldn’t tell you. This was the putting you back together part, the safe with me part, the dream-me can go fuck himself because you deserve the best dicking down ever part.

And could you tell that’s what all of this was? Absolutely. Could you do anything about it? Not a chance. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t form coherent sentences, couldn’t do anything but babble love you, love you, and more love you’s.

Chan pushed your hair from your sweaty forehead, memorizing your features for just a second before he lost himself again. Then straightening out your bottom leg for him to straddle while resting the top in the crook of his arm and aligning his cock at your entrance, just teasing your clit with the tip and spreading the perpetually leaking beads of cum. He would dip into your hole, hear you whimper, then pull away and do it all over again to keep you in a constant state of frustrated that he wouldn’t just fuck you already.

It was because fucking you wasn’t what he wanted, he hated calling it that. If it were anyone but you, calling sloppy sex for what it is wouldn’t have bothered him. But you weren’t just anyone, he wouldn’t dare call you anything less than what you deserved and that applied in the bedroom as well. That was, of course, aside from when you truly asked for it.

Even the sloppiest of sex with you wouldn’t be classified as just fucking. He felt every inch of you in every single one of his nerve endings, in his veins, pumping the blood through his heart straight down to the tip of his cock. Chan felt a little dumb just looking at you, like he’d lost his mind at the mere scent of your arousal, he felt like a lovesick puppy and if you’d ever decide to leave him, he’d die of a broken heart.

God, he loves you. He said it as he finally pushed into your pulsing, wet hole. He said it as he came to the hilt, he said it as he slipped the bondage off your wrists, as he grabbed your hand to hold and as he began to lazily thrust in and out, searching for the spot that would make you cry so hard you’ll pass out as soon as you cum.

And you did cry, not just from how good you felt physically but because even if he wasn’t mindlessly telling you how much he loved you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. He wasn’t looking anywhere but your face, straight into your eyes in a stare so intense it should’ve been uncomfortable. It was anything but, you shed a tear every time you blinked to see him still looking at you like he was sure you were the last thing he’d ever see.

God, you love him. You said it as your hand held his for dear life, as he pummeled the soft spot within you that made you see stars through the tears, you said it as you were curling your toes and arching your back at an unholy angle. You said it as coherently as possible as the butterflies in your belly swept you into a whirlwind of pleasure, as you milked him for everything he had, as you came back down to earth somehow laying on his chest and not at all in the same position as when the orgasm hit.

Gentle beating of his heart in his chest stirred you from the light daze you had fallen into, you don’t even remember doing it. “Hey there,” his chest rumbled. Chan kissed the top of your head, your forehead, then moved to lay your head in the pillows so he could kiss your lips.

As he tucked your hair behind your ear, you finally got to brush your fingers through his curls, so soft and pretty. His eyes closed as your nails raked across his scalp, letting his forehead fall against yours. The rumbling of his chest made you smile, “you purr like a cat,” you said through the sore scratch in your throat.

“Cats ward off evil. Real me is shooing away the nightmares for good. Let me purr.” Chan let you tug his head against his chest with a content him falling from your lips, where his purring turned into soft snores as the exhaustion finally hit him.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

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mydemimonde · 9 months

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'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)

a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.

Words: 4490

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)

You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.

The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.

“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.

“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.

“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.

You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.

“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.

“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.

“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.

“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.

You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.

“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened.

“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.

“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.

Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.

Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”

“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.

Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.

“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.

You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.

One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.

“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”

“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.

That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.

But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.

He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.

You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.

Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.

“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”

Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?” Silly old me?

“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.

“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.

“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.

“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.

Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.

“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”

“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”

“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.

“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.

9:15 AM.

You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.

As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.

“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.

“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.

“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.

“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.

Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.

Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.

You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”

“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.

However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.

Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”

“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”

Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.

“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.

He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.

“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.

Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”

You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.

You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.

3:40 PM.

You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.

You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.

“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.

You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.

“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.

Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”

“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.

“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.

Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.

He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”

You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.

“No. You’re just wasting my time.”

“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.

“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”

You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.

“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”

Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”

There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.

Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.

You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.

You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”

“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.

“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”

Michael gulps. “W-what?”

“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.

Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.

“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.

“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.

“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.

You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.

The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.

His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?

You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.

“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.

“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.

Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.

“Did-did I hurt you?”

“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.

He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.

“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.

“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”

“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”

“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”

You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.

let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn movie #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

1K notes · View notes

fushigur0ll · 1 year

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IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH

꒰ ♡ ꒱ you’re sick! so earth42!miles takes care of you at..3AM

includes; kisses, fluff, sick talk, sweetness and etc

sequel ~ 24/7 surveillance

“babe..miles! baby!” you try, emphasis on ‘try’ to wake your boyfriend up but knowing the type of deep sleeper he is, you know he wasn’t bound to wake up this easy and your body was getting weaker and weaker as every minute passes by.

every night, miles swings to your house unless he’s already there and sleeps over for the night, cuddling you until you both fall asleep comfortably and once miles is comfortable then there’s no waking him up till he wakes up himself. you always enjoy it when miles comes over to sleep with you because that’s when you sleep 10x better and you just wish you could enjoy it like how you did the night before and any other night but sadly you’re sick and when i say sick i mean as, sore throat, stuffy nose, headaches, weak body, sore eyes- that death feeling sick and it’s horrendous. you even feel so gross even when you took a shower literally before you laid yourself on that bad of yours. you groan softly when a feeling like someone is knocking your brain down with a hammer passes by, your migraines getting stronger every time they come as well.

you sigh and look at your sleeping boyfriend again, poking his nose but the only response you get from his was snores and that made you let out a drawn out groan. you open your eyes, immediately feeling the pain from looking around the semi dark room, eyes landing on the red numbers you see on the nightstand of your clock reading ’3:00AM’ you blow raspberries and look around again before you stop at the door of the bathroom.

this was gonna be hard..you want to freshen yourself up again so you’d be comfortable once more but you can barley feel your legs and arms. you definitely felt like you’ve been drugged but you remember this isn’t the first time it’s happened. you exhale and try getting sitting up but you end up rolling and rolling till you literally hit the floor with a loud thump. “oh sh- owwwwww” you whine, squirming on the cold floor boards overwhelming your bipolar tempered body. you try getting up but at that point you give up and lay in a starfish position on the ground, just staring at the ceiling fan.

“….baby where are you” you hear a deep and tired voice , one you love and know too well so you sigh.

“on the floor” you croak, cringing at the sound of your voice. it was silent before you hear the bed ruffle and rustle, miles head popping up from the bed and looking down at you with low lidded eyes.

“you good ma?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and you shake your head slowly. “i’m sick” you frown and close your eyes.

he stares at you and takes an arm out, using his hand to feel your neck, head and armpit. his eyes widen a tiny bit when he does feel the heat literally emitting from your body. he takes his hand back and stretches, before coming off the bed and leaning down to pick you up princess style.

“ou- miles be careful my head” you whine, holding your head in your hands,

“ ‘m sorry mami” he mumbles and kisses your warm temple, walking towards the bathroom and turning on the light. you immediately close your eyes, the light irritating your eyes further. he murmured another apology and kisses your cheek this time. he sits you on the sink counter and you open your eyes slowly, getting used to the light and you look at your boyfriend. he gets a clean face cloth, drowning it in warm water from the sink and drains it so it’s warm and damp. he walks back to you, and steps in-between your legs to wipe your face softly and you just sit there allowing him too.

the warmth from the damp rag felt nice on your face. you ask him to wipe your arms, legs and chest and he complied, doing so with feather light touches. he finishes and throws the rag in the hamper, turning back to you and cupping your face.

“you hungry?” he inquires, looking into your eyes and you nod. he hums in response and picks you up again. he moves you both out the bathroom not without closing the lights off then downstairs to your kitchen where he turns the lights on in there. your eyes is used to the light by now but that doesn’t mean your eyes doesn’t hurt from looking around.

“i already feel myself getting sick” he jokes, earning a soft and playful glare from you. “at least i didn’t sneeze on you” he chuckles, his chest rumbling slightly.

“at least you didn’t..not yet i mean” he glances at you as he sits you on the counter again. “i’m sick and you gonna bully me right now?” you raise a lazy eyebrow making him cross his toned arms staring back at you with the same expression.

“of course” he smiles and you rolls your eyes. “what do you wanna eat?” he moves towards the refrigerator and you hum, thinking about what you’re really craving for.

“anything, what’s in there?” you ask, light swinging your weak legs back and forth

“..cheese, leftovers, cake- you’re not eating cake” he knows you too damn well. literally when you’re sick you’ll get anything else other then something that’s like soup or actual food and will go for the sweets instead. your eyes sparkle at the mention of cake but you huff and frown when he told your ass no. he snickers and continues to look in the fridge.

“i’ll make you some soup and yes it can be chicken noodle soup” he closes the fridge but not before getting a cup of water and sees you with a bright smile on your face that makes him feel warm inside.

“thank you~” you singsong, giving him kissy lips and noises.

“anything for you baby”

it wasn’t that long before the soup was made and done. steam rising from the bowl that the soup has been poured into. he gets a spoon and goes back inbetween your legs. he gets the soup onto the spoon, blows on it a few times before putting it close to your already open mouth.

“it’s a bit hot okay?” he mumbles and you nod, encasing the spoon and soup into your mouth. your stomach rumbles happily in response, loving the taste of the soup, noodle and chicken broth. you hum and sway side to side in happiness. he watches you, snorting and shaking his head.

“cute” he leans into peck your lips and you smile softly.

“feed me peasant” you demand and his face drops so fast making you burst into laughter, falling back slightly and all he does is just stares at you blinking.

“you’re so lucky you’re sick right now because i could tickle you right now and never let you up” he stoically responds, his eyes tracking your every move. “hehe the way your face dropped” you giggle and sit up properly, leaning forwards to peck all over his face making the corner of his lips move up.

“i’m sorry pookie butt” his face drops again and you howl in laughter again but this time you start uncontrollably coughing, holding onto your chest. this time it was him laughing at you while you glare at him as you fight for your life trying to catch your breath back.

“not too much on me now milestone- don’t even try” he cuts you off, mean mugging whilst you, again, start wheezing and coughing. “look at you loosing your life, sit up baby” he chuckles and gives you the cup of water which you generously take sips from.

you both enjoy the small moment, laughing, talking as he feeds you soup till the bowl was empty. you burp and excuse yourself, feeling your body get better and less weaker. you tell him and even so he pick you up like a princess and picks up the cup of water then walks out the kitchen then turning the light off on his way out.

“going back to bed now?” you ask quietly, watching his side profile and he nods, looking towards you and staring at you.

“my own stalker huh?” he jokes and smirks when he sees you kiss your teeth. “you needa stop playing with me boy” you playfully push his head away and he chuckles, making his way back in the bedroom and placing you on the bed then placing the cup of water on the nightstand.

“how you feel?” he asks, looking down at you. you stare back and smile brightly. “i feel slightly good as new thanks to you” you widen your arms and he climbs into bed, laying down and pulling you ontop of him. you get yourself comfortable, laying your head on his chest as listen to the beating of his heart. he wraps one arm on you and one hand to your thigh, holding you securely. it was quiet and peaceful, his hand rubbing up and down the soft skin of your thigh, looking up at the ceiling as he feels your hand move towards his cheek.

“hm?” he looks at you, leaning into your hand as you look at him admiringly.

“thank you for taking care of me” you whispers and rub his cheek. he smiles softly and leans in to kiss your nose and forehead.

“anything for my girl”

#—fushi’snotes #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #earth42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth42 #earth42 miles #miles morales #x black fem reader #x black reader #across the spiderverse x reader #miles morales x reader

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pomefioredove · 4 months

Note

You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #rook hunt x reader #can't stop thinking of the logistics of this bc if rook and vil both liked the mc at the same time they would NEVER fight over it #rook would totally let vil go ahead and then either become vilyuu number one fan OR polycule OR be there to steal mc when vil fucks up #and alas polycule is probably the least likely because vil would Not Want to Share

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shotmrmiller · 7 months

Text

currently doing one of my most hated chores which is laundry and it got me thinking.

It's bloody laundry day again. You've got no extra clothes to really wear apart from a loose, grey, too thin pajama shirt and the shorts it came with.

Tragic, but not the end of the world. No one goes to wash their clothes looking like they're right off the runway. And it's also far too early for the laundromat to be packed.

You'll survive.

Slamming your trunk closed, you straighten and wipe the sweat that's beaded on your forehead. Damn muggy air. Even at this hour, the weather chooses violence.

Pulling the door open, you step inside and hiss out a breath through your teeth. In here it's not any better. And there's only one big fan on, out of the many that are in here.

God you hate laundry day.

At least it looks empty.

Tucking your hair away in a makeshift, sloppy bun, you drag your dirty clothes basket to a washer and throw them in.

Next is your detergent and when you pick up the fabric softener, it's almost empty.

God fucking damnit.

And the person that sells stuff isn't in behind the desk.

Slamming the lid closed, you kick your hamper into against the washer and walk toward the cursed fan that probably only circulates the hot ass air in here. But with the way your pathetic shirt is turning damp and sheer from the sweat, and short strands of hair that are starting to glue themselves to the back of your neck, worse is nothing.

And then you're standing in the corner of the laundromat, getting hot air weakly blown into your flushed face. "Goddamn it's hot. Useless fucking fan is just here for decor, i think."

"Ah think so too."

You choke back a scream and spin on the balls of your feet to the deep, accented voice behind you.

A muscular pretty boy with hair the color of damp soil and blue eyes that sparkle brightly, even under the dim light of the place sits with his back to a washer that's currently going.

Devastatingly handsome. And you've been throwing a hissy fit for the past half hour, only to appear in front of him resembling a drowned rat.

Flatlining right now would be great.

"Damned hot in here, alrigh'. Isnae tha' so, Simon?"

Who? Oh no.

How you missed that behemoth is beyond you, but he rises from the ground like a slumbering giant. Ash brown choppy hair and dark, sharp eyes with the rest of his face covered by a black cloth mask. 6'4 at least, and built like bloody fridge.

Someone kill you now.

"Johnny."

His piercing eyes cut to you before flicking back to the man on the floor.

"Get the detergent."

"Aye." Scottish, it sounds like.

You briskly walk away from them two, face burning with embarrassment, back to the washer you're using.

Today of all days, you come across these two. You could cry, honestly.

They're there for as long as you are, and you've long since gotten past your self-consciousness. If you have to melt in this stifling heat for one more second, you just might scream.

You grab your clothes from the dryer with haste, haphazardly throwing them in your basket and with a quick, 'Have a good day!', you're out the door.

As you're about to get in your car, the scot comes bustling out the front door of the laundromat.

"Lass! Ah think these're yers."

What he holds in his hands has tears springing into your eyes.

Undergarments. Why the hell is he-

You can see the tall brit leaning on a machine, with his arms crossed and he's looking right at you.

The walk of shame to the pretty one is almost unbearable. Your trembling hand reaches for your garment. "Thank you."

He chuckles under his breath. "Anytime. See ye around."

How mortifying.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghoap x you

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ken-jaku · 7 months

Text

happy valentine. zayne from love and deepspace

content warnings. smut, fem!reader, use of drugs (aphrodisiacs in choco-covered strawberries ), evol malfunctions, zayne's got a huge dick, inspired by mr. & mrs. smith, fucking you full nelson, cervix-hitting but realistic? aka it hurts like a bitch (might do a fantasy one next time idk), reverse cowgirl, riding, creampie oops, mentions of impregnating (could be just be a kink, up to interpretation), erm.. mentions of sharing wine.. via the mouth.. in a lewd way

word count. 1.3k (done in a timestamp format)

8:00PM

the two of you found solace in italy, going there for vacations whenever zayne was granted his leave of absence.

with his money saved and ready to spend on you, he bought a secluded house surrounded by a lake and mountainous terrain. it was perfect, especially for a guy like zayne who wasn't entirely a fan of pda but liked the idea of it.

zayne catches you outside, lying on an armchair, drinking your wine as you watch the sun disappear into the freshwater body. your skin looked oh, so radiant as golden hour did its job. sun-kissed skin, plump lips sipping your wine and your eyes appeared lighter than usual thanks to the beaming light.

"started without me, i see? did you bring them?" you smile, craning your neck to look at the tall man behind you.

"mhm!" you pull out a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, taking a bite of one before handing the rest over to your boyfriend. taking them, he takes a seat in the chair beside you.

8:25PM

"c'mere," zayne's words came out in pants, his face damp with sweat while you were practically drowning in your own. the aphrodisiacs were finally kicking in.

smiling, you take a sip of your wine before leaning over to kiss him. zayne wastes no time in prodding your mouth with his tongue, the kiss getting sloppy unusually fast as you two share the small drops of wine between you.

you break the kiss to put down your glass of wine, turning your face away from his for just a moment. as you're about to turn back, you find zayne standing right in front of you, impatience riddling his core. he bends over, his hand grabbing your neck as his lips find yours again.

just as he's about to lift your shirt, a loud firework startles the both of you.

"oh, fuck-" you almost shout before laughing. the startled look on zayne's makes you swoon- his eyes wide as his mouth parts just slightly. he's just so cute! the man can only rest his head on your chest in a sulky manner as he tries to calm his heart. you had honestly scared him more than the fireworks did.

his sneaky hands still find their way under your shirt and on your tits in an attempt to save the mood- as well as for his own pleasure... and comfort.

but you just can't hold in your laugh as you replay the image of zayne almost shitting himself, "i'm so-sorry." you snicker. zayne sighs, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. your hand over was your mouth, cheekbones struggling to stay down as you just couldn't resist smiling. god, were you gorgeous.

8:30PM

"hm- fuck!" the atmosphere was no longer light-hearted. the sound of skin on skin with the distant drums of music and laughter from the festival across the lake could be heard.

zayne had you in full nelson. his thick cock bullying its way up into your cunt at a delicious speed. his cheeks were flushed red, lips bleeding as he broke the skin from biting it too much- too focused on pleasuring you. he also hopes that pounding you is enough for you to forget about the scare earlier.

the aphrodisiac fucking with your bodies gave you two an increased sense of pleasure, senses heightening as all he could think about was your pussy wrapped around his cock.

"fuck, you feel so good." he grunts. all you can do is helplessly moan as you look down at the sight before you. his cock was angled so right but zayne, not thinking straight, attempts to bottom out inside of you. he successfully does it... at your expense. holding you tighter, he pounds you, rapidly hitting your cervix a numerous amounts of time.

the pain makes you jolt as you hiss, tears welling, "zayne! fuck, it hurts! stop!"

zayne, himself, is startled. stopping his movements, he tends to you.

"are...are you alright?"

"fuck, zayne that really hurt. you know not to go that deep!" you pout, his dick still in you, deliciously filling you to the brim and deliciously filing your brain with him, your teary eyes severely dilated. he's not gonna lie, you saying that, especially with that face, made his dick twitch.

"fuck-baby. i'm sorry," he pants, "do you want to stop?"

"i wanna continue... just don't do it again," you mumble, a slight ache running through your body as you begin to ride his cock, your back facing him. moans start to build up again as the two of you continue to chase that high.

"hmm- d-does it feel good?" the sentence sounds borderline pornographic when you say it, chasing his validation. your thighs shake as zayne grabs your tits to squeeze, teeth biting at your collarbone as he lets you use him.

"mhm, so good, pretty girl. so good." he whispers even more praises by your ear, stumbling over most of his words considering he can't seem to keep a single notion in his head. the way you have him wrapped around your finger makes you smile and you lift yourself off of your lover to turn around and face him. you just had to see that pretty face before you came. sinking yourself back down on his cock, you speed up, the constant praises were doing wonders for your ego.

"mmphf- you're so pretty zayne. so pretty," you smile deliriously, " 'n i'm so happy i get to be with you-fuck!" your head finds its way to zayne's neck. diving nose first, you snuggle into him while his arms find their way around your waist, hugging you tight as he basks in the proximity.

"shit. are you close?" your thighs were beginning to burn but the way his burly cock jabbed at your spot, you couldn't let up- not when your orgasm was closely approaching.

zayne can only nod as his eyes roll back into his head. you were fucking him dumb. cunt clamping around his dick so deliciously.

"gonna-cum." your boyfriend chokes out, his hand reaching for your waist to lift you off him but you don't budge. shaking your head, you babble some words coherently while the others make no sense at all, "cum inside me. gimmeababy, please, fuck a baby up into me."

wasting no time, zayne attempts to meet your thrusts just enough so it doesn't hurt you again and instead coaxes both your highs with the utmost pleasure, his hands gripping your waist roughly.

"zayne, i'm cum-ming!" you cry out, nails digging into his collarbones and he follows right after you, spurting load after load inside of you, a whiny moan leaving him in the process as his evol malfunctions- frost covering his palm and your waist, specifically where his nails dug into. finally coming to your senses, blinking slowly, you feel the wet coldness, your body shivering despite the warm temperatures. looking down, you spot the transparent crystals sticking you to your boyfriend.

"zayne?" you whisper as you shudder. he hums, looking at you before he spots the crystals in the corner of his eyes. he stares at it, blinking once. twice. jolting up, he accidentally bucks his hips up into you, causing you both to hiss at the overstim, as he realizes what he was looking at was, in fact, real.

"shit, i'm sorry. you okay?" you nod, curiously poking at the crystals.

zayne closes his eyes in an attempt to relax, allowing the crystals to shrink in size before ultimately disappearing. he kisses your cheek, murmuring apologies as he runs his hand alongside your cold waist.

"you don't have to apologize... it's not you'll give me frostbite." you joke though zayne doesn't take it lightly, humming in response.

"happy valentines day, my love." zayne kisses your hand, his thumb rubbing it softly.

"mmm, happy valentines." you say drowsily, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

the two of you sit there, basking in the afterglow and silence as you watch the fireworks in the sky, cuddled up against each other.

with his cock still stuffing you full, of course!

note. dis shit late asl especially considering i wrote this so long ago, so sawry y'all! also the "fuck, zayne that really hurt." section kinda gave me ideas but i shan't speak on them. oh lawdy!

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace smut #l&ds #love & deepspace #lads #love & deepsace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #zayne x mc #zayne smut

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xianyoon · 2 months

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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

alhaitham x gn!reader. hurt & comfort, fluff. reader works at the akademiya and is pretty badly treated by most people for some reason. alhaitham reminds you that you are loved by him !!!!! ♡ . reader is inspired by me ( dec 26 bday + peanut allergy + prone to bouts of anxiety ) ノ based off my own interpretation of how alhaitham loves. ノ wc 2.5k.

ask around the bustling hub of sumeru city, and the native dreamers would often describe being loved as something mesmerising and captivating – like a kaleidoscope, twisting and turning enchantingly in hopes that the beads would fall perfectly in place, but it never always truly does – it is endearing and a lesson for the lovers all the same. the messy beads twirl and turn but there is just some reason why they can’t get enough of it.

the thinkers talk about love like an anchor dragging you further and deeper down into the depths of adoration and affection and infatuation; to them, there are often few clear differentiations between sinking into love and drowning in it.

for alhaitham, however – love is natural, like the cycle of growth of the dainty flowers and wild grass beneath his feet. a swanlike, enchanting piece of music that flows from your violin’s bow – with the right person, it is as natural as breathing.

but for alhaitham, however – love is also... unnatural, given his lack of experience. he has adoring fans, he has scholars singing his praises and piles of handwritten letters from secret admirers commending his mind and aesthete – but he has never loved before, not until you.

the first act of love. listening, when nobody else will try to.

alhaitham is a wonderful listener. if you ask him, he’d say that he prefers listening, even – he is content to hear all that you have to say, however nonsensical or ridiculous you sound to others. the scribe’s work is simple, so he never truly minds – to sit quietly with a small smile on his face while you talk his ear off about anything and everything – that is what love is, you are sure.

“hey, i’m sorry.. this is just too much right now.” you know they use this as a replacement for you.

“could you tell me another time?” another time will never come.

“just keep quiet, archons! do you ever shut up?” no, i’m sorry. i probably should.

alhaitham watches from his office as your heart breaks with every unwilling individual, each choosing to walk away while you tore your heart out, still bleeding from your ribcage while laying the offering bare at their feet. how could a human being be so cruel? there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ – yet you believe you cannot make it speak because they do not choose to listen.

“...i believe you hadn’t quite finished your story from the last time we met.” he speaks plainly, eyes glistening – with pity or with eagerness is something you don’t wish to distinguish. let it be the same, lest the heartbreaking realisation that he is just like the others.

“you remember?” you ask cautiously. please do, i can’t bear to beg anyone anymore.

“i do. that day about your old neighbour’s dog escaping into your garden. you’re welcome to continue, if you’d like.”

he watches your eyes light up as you trip and stumble over your words, quietly surprised and eager to please. there is a soft feeling in his chest – a warm, weighing feeling nestled in his ribcage.

the second act of love. remembering, when it feels like no one else does.

it is no secret that alhaitham’s mind is incredible. highly intelligent, closely observant, adept at noticing discrepancies – any researcher would fight to have him take a spot on their team. he is good at remembering, you think to yourself – alhaitham remembers everything – the things you’d grovel at someone’s feet, to remember the slightest thing about you, for, and everything you wished the world forgot. him remembering everything is incredible – whether that be a good thing, or not; is another.

“when’s your birthday again?” your co-worker taps his fingers against his chin, looking through the sheet of office birthdays.

“it’s–”

“december 26th.” alhaitham walks past, not looking up from his notebook.

you and your co-worker stare in silence. he...

“yeah, december 26th...” you catch a glimpse of the silver-haired scribe around the corner. he remembered. even if it was just an offhand comment about how funny you found your birthday to be right after christmas. he remembered.

“huh.” your co-worker shrugs it off, noting it down on the list as if nothing happened.

something happened. you feel something warm blossoming in your chest – warm, comforting, lovely all the same. a tender, sweet feeling like the heavy blanket on a rainy day that attempts to capture your heart in your throat and keep it captive forever; there is so much you want to say to alhaitham. it’s nice that he remembers – out of all your friends ( was he a friend? ), who could confidently say the date without thinking twice?

“i believe those are nuts. if i recall correctly, aren’t you allergic?” the next time you see a glimpse of his silver hair, alhaitham peers into your bowl of noodles. nuts – how comical it is to think that such a small, minuscule digit could potentially cut off breathing for you.

“i thought i told them ... perhaps i didn’t.” you mumble, hurriedly spitting out half-chewed food into your tissue. you stare tiredly into your bowl – surely you remember letting the waiter know that you had an allergy.

“you did.”

before you could even turn your head to reply to his reassurance, alhaitham flags down the same, tired waiter. he trudges to your table, serving tray tucked between his arm and body.

“can i be of service?”

“excuse me, i believe we mentioned earlier that they couldn’t have nuts.” alhaitham stares at him in the eye, glancing briefly at your bowl with spat-out nuts beside it. the waiter grabs it, letting out a soft sigh of frustration.

“you are a service professional, are you not?” alhaitham interrupts the languid movement; yet he does not break the stare.

“sir, i am just a wa–”

“my apologies. are you are a paid member of this establishment?”

“i am.” the waiter nods in quiet submission. it is better to shut up than to argue with a man who loves.

“you understand the laws regarding a customer’s health and safety, do you not? even if it’s tiresome, if they had gone into an anaphylactic shock here in your cafe, i believe it would have been a matter of time before an investigation is launched and a lawsuit is filed.”

you hear alhaitham soften at the word they. they. you. you are important enough to him that he’d quietly, but fiercely rip into the waiter over your allergy. (alhaitham wishes you felt important enough to care about your health instead of apologising for not speaking loud enough.)

the waiter steels himself and takes your bowl back to the kitchen without another word.

“thank you,” you turn to alhaitham. “that meant a lot.”

you show him a soft smile, and alhaitham feels a wave of silent thankfulness wash over himself – that you sit before him, wearing a bright and sweet smile and not a pained grimace from struggling to breathe, on your features. he feels the same warmth in his chest once again.

“you don’t need to thank me.”

alhaitham remembers, even when it feels like no one else does.

the third act of love. holding, when your skin feels achingly colder.

alhaitham does not strike people as a touchy person; his love language is not physical touch. touch scares him a little, even. the thought that a simple loving gesture could be twisted and morphed into a threatening hold scares even the most intelligent and strong of men – but he is human, and that is enough for him to appreciate lingering touches on his back as and when he needs and wants to.

he sees you – fingers twitching and rubbing against each other, clumsily tapping against your palms then scrunching inwards – you need touch. you need to be held. it was as simple and as crucial as breathing. your fingers press in inwards of itself, and he watches the colour recede and return once again as you loosen your grip.

“come here,” alhaitham gestures, wrapping your hand around his. there’s something comforting about how your hand is smaller than his; it’s not that much smaller, but it’s smaller all the same. if you curled yourself up even more, perhaps you’d be able to fit into the palm of his hands.

“don’t do that. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“do what?” you look at him quizzically.

“i wasn’t sure if you were unaware, but you tend to self-soothe and search for touch.” he sighs quietly, absent-mindedly stroking your purlicue as he turned back to his book.

“although i believe you search for it too much. press too hard, and you’ll start to feel numb.”

“ah.” you stare at your hands – the left, which he holds, and the right, resting on the cool table.

“thank you.”

“i said before, there is no need to thank me. if it is a simple matter regarding your well-being, i would do–” he stops himself. anything, is left hanging in silence.

“i would be happy to resolve that matter.”

even holding you? would he dare hold something so shamefully broken?

“thank you...” you close your eyes. he hesitates; just once.

“you don’t sound pleased, nor satisfied. was it something i said?” you hear his voice soften.

no, it’s not you. you shake your head quietly, resting your head against your right palm on the table.

“it’s alright. you do not have to talk if you don’t wish to.” alhaitham replies. you feel him smoothing your hair back – a touch so soft and tender, you can hardly believe it to be for yourself. it was intoxicating; his touch lacked lust, full in love– you have never been loved (loved?) like this before.

you feel slightly warmer now.

the fourth act of love. comforting, when there seems to be no one in your corner.

“i just wanted them to be different. just this once. is that too much to even ask?”

alhaitham holds you tightly as you sob and lament; he holds tighter than he ever has before, and he mourns. he mourns for the walls you had slowly built up over time dawn with the realisation that it had been justified all along; alhaitham knows how hard you have begged for them to be unneeded.

“i know.”

you hiccup, ducking beneath his arm tiredly – and he holds you gently. he holds you, arm resting on the crook of your neck as you rest against a pillow on his side – he holds you like he has done it all his life. fitting yourself – not small but not big – into his frame, alhaitham thinks, may very well be the most natural thing the world has brought him.

“they had no right to treat you like that. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault.” you sniffle.

archon, it hurt. you were going to get hurt in every lifetime, you know that– no, you deserved it. that has been etched into your mind since day one of starting your work. that was just who you were. the poor, miserable corner-sitter who had nothing else to do but correct their own mistakes. no initiative, no ounce of thought. why had the akademiya even hired you if its own people despised you?

“you don’t deserve to be hurt over and over, you know.”

how did he know?

“you said that aloud.”

you mumble a soft sorry, and he replies, shaking his head.

“it isn’t your fault,” alhaitham echoes your previous sentiment, almost teasingly. “i believe you’re smart enough to figure that out.”

before you look up at his tousled hair to reply, you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

a kiss.

his kiss.

“if you find them still bothering you, come and talk to me. the scribe’s position is – it may not be much – but i know with my place within the akademiya, they will listen. i promise you this,” he holds your warm hands in his broader ones.

“if they do not stop, i will leave. i have no regard for a company that will not protect its own workers.”

he wants to say a company that will not protect you, but thinks otherwise. perhaps it is too much right now after his impulsive kiss –that is the one thing that alhaitham mulls over. he has never been impulsive before; always thinking through and filtering and being rational and all the things that makes alhaitham, alhaitham. being impulsive is not a trait others describe him by.

so why, you–?

the fifth act of love. loving you, even when you believe people cannot.

–because he loves you, and alhaitham cannot, for the life of him and even with all the overbearing advice from kaveh and more bearable guidance from nahida – he cannot put it into words. for the first time in his life, alhaitham stumbles over himself, words tumbling out like love letters hastily shoved into a sack with a cut into it.

“what is so special about me? you’re always here, alhaitham, yet you never grow sick of me.”

he finds himself caught off guard when you ask suddenly, caught in today’s throes of insecurities. your words hang cautiously on your tongue like a snake waiting for the moment a displeased reaction appears – whether you hiss or hide, is something alhaitham feels a modicum of curiosity about, pulsing, and pulsing, until he tries.

“you-”

there are too many things that he can think of, he feels. nahida, give me strength.

“you are- you are kind. and generous. you have a heart for people even when they do not have one for you.” he starts, slowly. “you listen intently, and you enable people to open and talk. they talk because you listen and you support them with all your soul and it is so evident that you love.”

you want to cry.

“i admit i am not good with words, but you deserve every vow i utter tonight. you love so loudly, and you feel no shame for it – you have inspired me, and i dare confess that there have been many times i have desired to pull back, out of worry that i have felt the distinct possibility that i was about to fall in love with you.”

oh. you blink as if that hasn’t been obvious enough.

alhaitham is deeply and madly in love with you.

“i love you, not only because you are special, but also because i believe you deserve every ounce of love i can retrieve from myself. i know it has been made clear to you that others do not feel the same way, and it hurts to believe that some of it has come from those i know – i promise to be different–”

“you already are, alhaitham.” you feel yourself choke up. love is entangling itself around your trachea and holding you hostage, never letting go.

“you have never treated me with the same contempt. i love you, i know you return my feelings and for that i am thankful. i’m sorry that i’m not an easy person to love, please...” you trail off, feeling his body collide into yours. alhaitham holds you. he holds you, hand on your back and the other cradling your head against his shoulder.

“i want to love you,” he whispers into your hair. “please let me.”

so, about love–

ask alhaitham? you see a soft smile adorns his features as he mulls over the question of what love is to him. love, forever yours, evermore.

#― latest brew.#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin drabbles #alhaitham drabbles #genshin fluff #alhaitham fluff #i put my whole yingussy into this its ALHAITHAM !!!!! ♡#rbs appreciated ! ! ! ! ! ♡#astronetwrk #nereids' realm

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esquen · 11 months

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Omg please do if the reader got pregnant and Mike’s reaction and Abby’s reaction I just think that would be so cute

i think we all collectively agree mike would be so happy to be a dad (if he was stable mentally and financially)

you were starting to worry mike. you couldn’t keep your dinner from last night down in the morning, and he had to patiently hold your hair up and away from your face as you coughed it all out.

he felt that it was somehow his fault (it was), thinking he’d accidentally given you food poisoning. he called you out of work and kept the fan pointed in your direction with a bucket and a glass of water on the night stand.

abby joined you in his bed a few hours after he left. she’d only recently woken up and noticed you weren’t in the kitchen making breakfast.

she slept a little longer than you did, trying your best to leave the bed without waking her up. you felt like you knew what was wrong, but you wanted to make sure.

as you silently walked towards the phone in the kitchen, you dialed mike’s office number. you called him atleast once everyday, to ask what he wanted for dinner or just to check in on him.

“hello?” mike asks. the sound of him typing on the keyboard drowns out the chatter of his co-workers. “hi baby.” you mumble, crossing your arms.

“hey, babe. how are you?” he asks, stopping his fingers as he holds the phone eagerly against his ear. “i’m better. could you stop by the pharmacy and pick up a few things?” you licked your lips nervously. you didn’t know how to tell him you thought you were pregnant.

“yeah, hold on,” he mumbles, tearing a piece of paper and clicking a pen from what you could hear. “alright, what do you need?”

“a gatorade and a pregnancy test.” you kept it short, just wanting to get the conversation over with.

mike went silent for a few seconds before you heard him scribble down your request. “okay. i’ll be home at 5.”

“i love you.” you mutter. “i love you more.” he whispers back, hanging up the phone. you sighed anxiously, deciding to get started on lunch.

the next 6 hours were painfully long as you waited for your boyfriend. you were scared— not only because you’d have a new addition to the family, but because you didn’t know how mike would react.

when he came through the door with the small white plastic bag, his eyebrows were furrowed as you came to meet him at the door.

“hey baby.” he greets, hand coming to cradle your back as he presses a kiss to your lips, holding up the bag to you. “thanks.” you mumble, opening the bag and taking out the gatorade.

you smiled up at him and put it on the counter, making your way towards the bathroom with the pregnancy tests.

mike and abby talked in a whisper for some reason as you waited for your results. the test was flipped over so you couldn’t see what it said, thoughts racing as you tapped your fingers against the counter.

the alarm on your watch went off, signifying that it was time to flip the test over. swallowing all your guilt and worry, you flipped the stick over.

the two red lines from hell.

you weren’t particularly mad at the result, you just didn’t plan on it happening like this. or this early.

you sighed at the sight, turning around to unlock the bathroom door and towards the living room again.

abby was curled up on the couch, her cartoon’s playing quietly as mike wrote through his bills.

you pressed your lips together until he noticed you, putting his pen down as he stared at you with more love than anyone has before.

you put the test on the table, sliding it towards him. he picks it up feverishly and studies it, pupils dilating at the result.

he wants to jump up and scream, cheer— whatever. but he didn’t want to wake abby up. he chewed at his bottom lip and tried to shy away a smile, standing up and hugging you. “i’m gonna take such good care of you.” he muttered into your ear.

revealing it to abby was the least of your worries. she was a kid, so you had no fear of getting judged by her.

“abby?” mike calls out from her door frame. she turns around, looking at her brother. “yeah?” she responds. mike swallows and looks over at you.

“uhm.. y/n and i— we’re gonna have a baby.” he sighs, eyes never leaving yours until he had to turn and look at abby’s reaction.

her eyelids shot open at the reveal, sitting upright to look at her brothers girlfriend. “serious?” she asks, hopping off the bed.

“serious.” you nod with a laugh. she’s throwing herself into your arms so fast, you didn’t even see it coming.

you look up at mike from the squatting position you were in, staring at you as you chat about the baby to his little sister.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #dad!mike

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nexysworld · 9 months

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Summary: After his last failed mission, the D.S.O dropped him off at the shelter. Grumpy and off-putting, his chances of leaving were bleak until you came along. Pairing: Dog Hybrid!Vendetta Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, hybrid sex, unprotected sex, age gap, oral sex, knotting, mild dubcon reader into it though, cream pie, mentions of alcohol, mild angst, but also comfort, no use of y/n

Read on AO3 || Askbox || Masterlists A/N: A birthday gift for a wonderful person. <3 Also thanks to @explorevenus for helping with the banner photos, because Nexy still cannot Pinterest correctly. Title from the deftness song, Cherry Waves. I also have a bot based off this story: Character AI || Spicychat

Leon grumbled as he laid against the shitty bench-turned-bed inside the small gray walled kennel. There was only a folded up blanket for padding, to protect him from the cold cement beneath his back. It was a far cry to the plush and lavish hotel room beds previously provided by the D.S.O. His ears twitched as he curled in facing the wall, doing his best to drown out the sound of the other hybrids around him as well as the sound of the people looking around. His throat ached for the burn of some good whiskey.

He resented all of them – owners and the yipping little pups who they were here to claim. How many months had it been since he’d seen the dewy green of the grass outside. How many months since some poor soul decided to even peer into his kennel? Too many by his calculations.

Leon didn’t want an owner exactly, much more used to having his own freedom. It was one of the few good things about his previous employment. As a federal agent Leon had been allowed free reign for most things unlike the other hybrids who ran around playing butler-house-pet or fuck toy. An owner meant rules, it meant being friendly, it meant playing and being lovey – all the things he had grown to be inexplicably bad at.

He couldn’t deny though that somewhere deep within his alcohol riddled organs, it stung a little knowing that he was likely never leaving the kennel again, it was his prison. An owner at least meant getting out of there. But alas, he wasn’t a puppy anymore, and between his age and ‘off putting personality’ as it stated on his papers, he knew it was a pipe dream.

He stretched his limbs, flopping onto his back, trying to push the thought out of his mind. Idly, he stared at the flickering light mounted to the ceiling, eyes following the creaky fan blades as they swirled around. It was almost enough to lull him into another dreamless nap, until he heard an unfamiliar gait heading his way. With no pups beyond his kennel he figured it was someone walking the wrong way, so he ignored it, returning to the fascinating task of counting specs on the ceiling tiles once he grew bored of the fan.

“Hm?” One of his ears perked up as the footsteps stopped outside his room. A moment of silence, no further sound. The soft scent of some dainty perfume graced his nostrils. “What are you still standing there for? Puppies are the other way.” He called out idly, still not willing to acknowledge their presence with his eyes.

“O-oh. Well…I wasn’t really looking for a puppy per se.” Soft. Soft was the best way he could describe your voice, like his ears were being tucked into a cushiony blanket. He couldn’t decide if he hated it or not, but it intrigued him enough to finally sit up — it’d been a while since someone who sounded as sweet as you bothered to even look his way.

Scratching at his stubble he took you in, head to toe as he walked closer, leaning against the bars. Just as he thought; soft, sweet, cute, too young. “Not looking for a puppy?” He questioned, raising a dark brow. “You really think I’m your taste?”

Doe eyes darted to his little display plaque before back to his, he could tell you were nervous, the slightest rosy flush on your cheeks. “I think so.” The words weren’t confident, they wavered, your hands fidgeted. He wanted to laugh in dry amusement, but he wasn’t that mean. “Listen kid, unless you got a flask of whiskey hidden in your pocket, a cute thing like you is better off finding a puppy to fawn over.”

“I don’t want a puppy.” You said again, this time more firm, determination overtaking your features. “The whiskey can be arranged though.”

“You’re joking.” “Nope. Dead serious.” “You read my file? You know how big of a grouch I can be.” “I did.I like a challenge.” That ditzy little smile never left your face, but your eyes screamed sincerity. His eyes narrowed, he had both arms crossed while he considered what you were saying, squeezing the worn leather of his jacket. “There’s plenty of other old dogs around here.” “You’re not old.” “I’m 37.” “That’s not old.”

“Old for you.” “You don’t even know how old I am.” “You’re a real pain, you know that kid?” “I like you already.” Leon tilted his head to the side, one ear flopping with the movement, his tail against his will wagging slowly behind him. You were interesting, that’s for sure, like a little warm dart shot into his iced over heart. For the briefest moment he felt hope, though he steeled it away as fast as it came – he knew better than to let emotions like that flourish. But at least he figured this could be a nice vacation.. “Know what? I like you too, kid. But don’t expect me to do any cute shit.” “No cute shit, got it.”

The apartment was small, simple white walls, beige carpet that looked kinda scratchy. It reminded him of the first apartment he ever had, rented it himself when he began the police academy. That felt like a world away now – yet he could still remember the look on the manager’s face when he rolled up as a fresh-faced pup to sign the lease, his academy badge attached to his shirt.

‘Wonder what my life would’ve been if I could’ve stayed that guy.’ He mused, following you around for the grand tour. “It’s not much. But there’s a second bedroom you can have all to yourself, and the hall bathroom is all yours too.”

He nodded, sniffing around the place, everything had your scent lingering on it, even down to the guest room sheets. That same dainty scent, he hated to admit it but it was nice, growing on him by the second – so much so he even felt his cock twitch in his pants. Surprising to him, he can’t remember the last time he popped a stiffy between the alcohol, work, and sour mood he’d been in forever.

When you weren’t looking he adjusted himself in his pants. You were saying something, but truthfully he was only half listening. “What was that?” “I was just saying how tomorrow we can stop and get you whatever you’re needing. I would offer you some of my pajamas but yknow…”

“It’s fine, I’m a boxers kind of dog anyway.” He swatted you away dismissively. “Don’t worry about it either, I should still have some money in my account from my last job. I just have to get to the bank.” “Oh. Ok.” You replied. “Well uhmm, you know my room’s next door. If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to come get me.” “Mhmm.” He didn’t say goodnight as he heard the door shut behind him. Not having much on his person to unpack, he decided to just strip for bed. He kicked his browned boots off into the corner, tossing the jacket on top. Opting to leave the tshirt on, he tossed his jeans over with the rest before flopping back onto the mattress.

Truth be told, the silence was odd – even at the shelter there was always something or someone making noise. The loud industrial AC unit on blast, night puppies running around their rooms, idle chatter. Here there was just…silence, loneliness still. Despite the unease that set forth within him, he had to admit the feeling of a real mattress felt delightful, like floating on clouds. Rolling over he took the opportunity to bury his face in the pillow, finally getting to indulge in your scent as much as he wanted. His eyes squeezed shut, his tail wagged against the bed thumping each time it connected – he was glad for the privacy. ‘I’m fucked up for this, she’s too young.’

He considered rubbing one out before falling asleep, but between the way he was sinking into the bed and the coolness of the pillow, he stood no chance. It wasn’t long before that sinking feeling of unconsciousness began to wrap itself around him. His cock could wait another day.

For the first time in a long time, Leon dreamed while he slept.

You sat in your own bed, unable to sleep. It was odd knowing that someone else was in your home for a change, but you supposed that was the whole point.

Living alone was hard, kinda scary, and definitely lonely. Though the decision to get a hybrid was one you landed on impulsively. You considered a regular dog but that was more of a hassle than you wanted – what you really needed was a companion that could be independent.

Leon’s picture was one of the first on the shelter’s website. You were surprised a dog his age was there, more surprised at how handsome he was if you were honest. His file caught your interest right away, previously employed, a government agent? The mystery behind that had you wanting to know more – was he like James Bond? Why would a government agent wind up in a shelter? Someone like that would make a good guard dog, right?

And then of course when you saw him in person you knew you wanted him. Leather jacket, boots, and those cute fuzzy ears. God. It felt like his blue eyes pierced your soul, his locks framing his face – you loved it.

Now here you were, he was in the room right next to you and yet you couldn’t get him off your mind. Looking over at the clock it was around midnight now. ‘Come on, just sleep. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can talk to him.’ You reminded yourself, trying to will your brain into submission

It didn’t work.

“This sucks.” You complained to yourself, hanging your legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at your eyes. Figuring stretching your legs and grabbing a glass of water might help, you pushed forward, quietly making your way out of the room and down the small hallway to the kitchen.

The chilling water felt like a rush of relief the moment it made contact with your mouth, legs feeling better after walking as well. You stretched almost like a cat, arms in the air, relishing in the feeling before deciding to head back to bed.

Your trek back was interrupted by sound coming from behind Leon’s door, it was so quiet at first you almost ignored it, until his booming voice made you jolt where you stood.

“Fuck you Patricio, you fucking coward! I should kill you myself.” “What the hell?” Nosily you cracked his door slightly. “Leon? Everything alright?” There was no immediate response, but you heard shuffling on the bed, like he was thrashing around. This time you pushed the door open completely, hall light illuminating the room just enough to see his torso on the bed.

Another noise left him, almost like a pained cry, then a whimper. “Fuck you.” He said again. “They’re all dead because of you…no…because of me.” His voice became quieter towards the end of his sentence.

“Leon?” You cooed his name, sitting down on the edge of the bed. You weren’t sure what to do, but it hurt to see him struggle in unconsciousness. Gently you placed your hand on his cheek, he was clammy, the stubble rough against your hand. He didn’t seem any closer to waking, but you could feel his facial muscles tense – a growl left him as he rolled the other way.

Daring to reach out, you pet at his ears gently, the short fur soft against your skin. “Hey, it’s alright.” You moved closer on the bed, intending to try and comfort him some more. Instead, your hand landed on his tail by accident.

Leon jolted awake, and in an instant you were flipped onto your stomach, arm twisted and pinned to your back. Your muscles strained painfully, his grip bruising. His breath was hot against your ear, growling loud. “Ow!” You whimpered, face buried into the pillow.

His nose pressed into your neck, sniffing a bit before he finally retracted slightly. You could feel his cock harden a little as it twitched through his boxers, pressed slightly in on your thigh from behind. “Oh shit.” He said, sleep addled brain fully catching up. “Shit, I’m sorry kid.” He didn’t move off of you completely, but he let go of your arm at least. “You alright?” “I think so.” “What were you even doing in here?” “You were having a bad dream. I wanted to make sure you were ok.” You mumbled against the pillow, flopping your arm to the side to ease the pain and tension from how it had been pulled. You weren’t sure what to do next, ask him to get off? Try to move? Stay still? While it should have scared you more than it did, you hadn’t expected him pinning you down to make you feel…exhilarated? That coupled with him pressed against you made your panties grow sticky with arousal. ‘This is awkward.’ You thought to yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. Hoping he would do something on his end to move the situation forward.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you were in here?” You couldn’t see him, but you swore you could hear the smirk in his very words. He leaned over you again, this time his chest flush against your back, lips against your ear. “I can smell it on you, you know. Don’t even need to feel it to know you’re soaking.”

“Wha–” Your face burned hot with embarrassment, more slick soaked your panties with just his words. “No I swear, I was just –” Your words were cut off instantly by the feeling of his tongue on the shell of your ear, the warm muscle teasing it, skin cooling the moment it moved away.

“You smelled good earlier. But now? Now you smell like a fucking treat.” He said, burying his nose back into your neck, pressing his now nearly fully hard cock against you more. He ground down slightly as he took in your scent again. “Wanna just tear you apart, eat you up.”

“Leon!” You gasped out, squirming under him. “Bad boy!” You managed to get out, though it lacked any real authority. He snorted with amusement, leaning back, a firm grasp on your hips with both hands. “I’m bad? Who’s the one sneaking into someone else’s bed in the middle of the night?” He punctuated each word by grinding his clothed erection against your clothed cunt. “I already said..I wasn’t… Bad, boy. Down!” You whimpered again, trying to sound firm this time, and failing again.

“No can do.” He replied. “Got me all worked up now.” He gave a solid slap to your ass cheek, not enough to leave a mark, but just enough to sting lightly. “I warned you to go fawn over a puppy, didn’t I?” “L-leon –”

“Not in control with me, Sweetheart. Shouldn’t get a pet you’re not ready to take care of.”

You weren’t able to reply as he brought his hand between you from behind, rubbing at your clit through your panties. He ghosted his fingers there with just enough pressure to make you want more, but not enough to really push you over that cliff of euphoria. A needy whine worked it’s way out of you, and you ground your clothes pussy back against his hands, desperate for more pressure. “That’s better.” He praised, rewarding you by letting rut against his hand. “Gonna cum just from that, aren’t you? Dirty little owner.” He teased. “N-no” You attempted to protest, but he was right. It felt so good, though a little rough from the friction of the wet fabric. Your hips didn’t stop their movement against his warm hand, chasing that pleasure, each movement making you whimper into the pillow. It wasn’t long before you were cumming against his hand, him rubbing your back with his free one, coaxing you through it. “Atta girl,” he praised.

While you caught your breath, he made quick work of your panties, not bothering to pull them off, opting to tear the thin fabric instead, leaving them torn between your legs. “Bet you taste as good as you smell.” He mumbled to himself, scooting down the bed enough that he could lean forward face to face with your wet folds. He gave no warning before he dove in, tongue lapping at you like you were dripping liquid gold. “Sweet as a fuckin’ treat.” He said, pulling away just long enough to take a breath before sucking on your clit gently, swirling his tongue around it.

Too sensitive from your previous orgasm, you kicked against the bed, back arching as you tried to get his attention. “S’too much.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it, simply pulling you closer to his face, strong arms keeping you pinned where you were as he continued devouring your cunt mercilessly. “S’too much!” You cried out again.

With one more particularly hard suck, your whole body tensed, hole clenching around nothing as you came again. Hot pleasure radiated from your core, shooting zaps of pleasure that tingled your fingertips and made your toes curl. Little aftershocks of pleasure made your brain hazy as he eased up on the pressure, giving light licks now to savor your taste.

Legs trembling, you were relieved when you felt him move from between your thighs, feeling his weight shift off the bed for a moment. When he returned, you realized he’d taken his boxers off, whining pathetically as he ran the hot sticky tip of his cock against your folds, bumping it over your clit again for good measure making you squeal.

“Be a good girl and relax.” He said, finally pressing himself inside of you. It was just the tip but you already felt so full, like you were being speared with every inch. “Easy, easy….biiiiiiiiiiigggg stretch.” He cooed, finally burying himself to the balls. You had never felt so full before, mouth opening into a little ‘o’ shape, no sound coming out. Velvet walls tightened around him, making him hiss behind you. “No pushin’ me out, not ‘til I’m done.” He said, sliding out just a little before pressing back in. He did this a few times, slow shallow thrusts, easing you open for him. Leon wrapped one arm around you, pulling you back so you were leaning against him as he rocked your bodies together. He splayed one hand against your stomach to help hold you in place, the other a firm grip on your neck. Not tight enough for you to be unable to breathe, but enough to cut off some of the blood supply, give your brain that heavy drowsy feeling – tongue flopping out in your dazed state.

Tilting your head to the side, he lapped at the junction between your neck and shoulder before biting down on the spot, letting just his canines puncture the skin, careful to not draw too much blood. You gasped at the sensation, while it stung at first, each slam of his thick cock head to your cervix made any pain forgettable, enjoying the feeling of being stretched and filled.

He was close, you could tell by the rugged and uneven breaths he was taking, mixed with how he desperately rutted into you. He pressed you forward back onto the mattress, releasing your neck to reach down and lace his fingers through yours, his other hand maintaining its spot around you for support as he smacked his hips against yours.

Leon came hard, balls tightening as he painted your insides white with thick ropes of cum. He rode out his own pleasure with deep but slow thrusts, holding you tightly against him. It wasn’t long before the knot on his cock stretched you out further, nearly at your limit. “I know, I know.” He said, rubbing your stomach gently as you squeezed his other hand. Once you seemed mostly adjusted, he carefully rolled both of you so that you were laying sideways, one leg bent back slightly over his to accommodate where your bodies were still linked. He held you close to him, nuzzling into your neck and lapping up any remaining blood from the bite mark.

Silence passed as your bodies cooled down together, an overwhelming sleepiness taking over you. You rubbed at your eyes again before breaking the silence by calling out his name. “Leon?” “Yeah?” “Are you really ok though?” “Huh?” He sounded genuinely perplexed by the simple question. “The nightmare, it sounded…real…like a memory. Are you alright, like really alright?” You turned your neck as best you could, wincing slightly from the bruised bite that was now aching a bit, trying to see his face in the dark room. “You were serious about that?” “Yeah, I was worried. I told you I wanted to make sure you were alright.” “Shit …. I’m fine kid, promise. Just a bad memory that’s done and over with.”

“Wanna talk about it?” “Right now?” He asked incredulously. “Well, yeah why not? Post nut clarity and all that.” “You’re literally stuck on my – “ He cut himself off with a sigh. “You’re a weird one.”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re kinda grumpy, especially when you first wake up.” He let out a laugh, it sounded genuine this time. His knot finally deflating, he slipped out of you gently so he could readjust the way you were laying so you were facing him. He pulled you closer, burying your face in his chest, resting his chin on your head. You could hear the telltale sound of his tail gently patting against the bed – a part of you wanted to point out that he did, in fact, do cute shit, but held your tongue. Instead you closed your eyes, letting the smile he couldn’t see spread over your features, relishing in his warmth, and the smell of his spiced cologne. “Tell you what. Keep me around long enough and I might just tell you about the dream some day.” “Mmm and what if I keep you around forever?” His tail thumped harder at that question, a sign of his true feeling, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Guess that remains to be seen.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “Go to sleep.”

“Fine.” You conceded, too tired to really argue. A squeaky yawn escape you as you curled up into him, letting your eyes lid with sleep, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

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lunarw0rks · 1 year

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can you write something about reader using their safe word for the first time with ghost?

getting surprised at how easily he changes from rough sex to sweet aftercare to make sure he's partner is okay

₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧ safe-word // simon riley

warning(s): nsfw + sfw, established relationship, smut/fluff, shower sex, hurt/comfort, gn!reader word count: 1.1k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ───have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

You don't know why or when exactly the pleasure turned into pain, but you found yourself in a conflicted frenzy.

Your back pressed against the shower wall, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as Simon thrusted into you at a relentless pace. One of his hands remained glued to your waist, digging into your soft flesh with intensity. His other was behind your head, protecting it from hitting the tile every time you clashed against it with every plunge of his length.

He was usually so attentive, noticing every slight change in your demeanor even outside of intimacy. Sometimes, he's so concerned he'll mistake your moans of pleasure for refusal and stop completely, to your dismay.

However, Simon had yet to stop.

The shower head was too noisy, or perhaps he really lost that side of him whilst being so rough with you. Though, you had heavy doubts about the second hypothetical. Never would he intentionally harm you or continue on when you were so tense.

His touch wasn't comforting anymore, it was suffocating. Every groan into your ear, his thrusts becoming unwelcome by your stressed body.

In his defense, your gasps really could be misinterpreted. "Simon." It sounded like praise instead of a refusal — and your futile protest was drowned by the rain of the shower and bathroom fan. With every fleeting moment, you felt a rumble of discomfort build. Tears fell down your cheeks, spilling down his wet skin while you hid in the crook of his neck. Choked blubbers grew louder as you tried and failed to draw in proper breaths.

Then, came your saving grace. The safe word you had yet to use tonight, or ever with Simon. It was necessary, preferable over taking the unpleasant encounter and feeling horrible for not speaking up. And frankly, it would break Simon if you didn't voice your discomforts; he may never touch you again, and probably would feel as though he really was a cruel man. That man you spent so long convincing him he wasn't.

"Red." You blurted, feeling your lips tremble intensely.

At the speed of light, his ruts ceased. Nothing. Silence, except for the patter of the droplets around the two of you. From grunting to complete and utter silence — yet it was the loudest moment of your life.

Simon pulled back, dropping one of your legs but keeping the other secured around him for stability. Finally, he could get a look at your flushed and troubled expression. The unmistakable expression of distress; one he had only ever seen on you in other contexts. It chilled him to the core and made him feel like a barbarian for not noticing sooner. How long had you writhed? How long had he carried on like an idiot, mistaking your complaints for reciprocation?

"Did I hurt you? Are you hurt?" His series of questions were masked with deep breaths and a widened expression. Your silence made him withdraw from you completely, putting a supportive hand on your warm cheek. "Talk to me, love. Please."

You weren't mute from the pain, nor the fussing on his end. Merely the shock of how much his demeanor changed. From dominance to tenderness at the drop of the hat. Or more so, the utterance of a single word.

Quickly, you shook your head to answer his initial questions, snapping out of your stew. "No, Simon. It's not—" You stammered between reassuring touches, ones he refused to pay attention to until he was sure you were sound. "I just... It was too much, I'm sorry, Si."

Simon's face visibly cringed, hands roaming over your skin, grasping at your wrists with gentle nature. "Don't apologize. This is all on me, alright?" He replied in an alarmed slur, then your face had been pushed against his chest.

His broad chest, arms capable of snapping you in two, now cradling your body as if it was made of glass. Your palms slid up his back, returning that same tenderness to assure him of your safety. It wasn't pain because of his carelessness, nor was it the rough nature. He had done it before with no issue. Tonight's cards just weren't stacked right, bound to tumble from the start.

There was no blame to be had for either of you. Merely a hitch in the evening, and you wanted it treated as such. Though, you knew by now that convincing him of that would be a prolonged, tedious task.

Right now, all you had were reassurances that sounded pathetic amidst your trembles. "It's not your fault." You mumbled against his chest, anxieties put to ease at the caress of his calloused hand up and down the nape of your neck.

He quickly shushed you, pressing his lips to your drenched head of hair. A silent way of urging you to keep your mouth shut — but in his own blunt way.

In the following moments, he let his hands roam and massage the bits of flesh that took the brunt of his force. The indents on your hips, the patch on your shoulder blades irritated from clashing with the shower wall, all of it. The sizzling water was used to figuratively wash away his misjudgments, relaxing the muscles once over-exerted and sore.

Once he turned the knob to stop the water, he tied a towel around his waist, retrieving the fresh one he set out for you while the water was still heating up several minutes ago. Without once making eye contact, he unfolded the linen, then was running it along your dripping skin, drying every last bit to ensure you were comfortable before dressed.

With some silent convincing, you nodded, allowing him to step out and let you hold the towel around yourself. You weren't defenseless because you uttered a safe word, he knew that. But you weren't going to brush this off, either. No chance.

The drawer of your dresser scraped shut when you followed him into the bedroom, revealing your favorite pair of sweatpants. Next, one of his many black tees soon slipped over your fleshly cleaned body. You were no longer suffocated or plagued with unease, nor did you want the release you were craving moments ago. Your only desire was his presence, that safe feeling his existence gave you.

Before you settled on the bed, he cupped your cheeks, pressing his forehead against your own. "Tell me again." Simon pleaded with intense softness.

"I'm alright, Simon. Promise." A futile smile formed, clenching your eyes shut briefly with a defeated nod. You had repeated it a hundred times, it seemed. But you wouldn't take back or fib through any one of them. It was the truth— the reassurance he craved.

Softly, he scoffed at your cheesy proclamation. "Promise it, huh?"

"Promise it."

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ningvory · 7 months

Note

hi baby❤️❤️ ik we both feral AS FUCK for unnie line sserafim so can you write reader being free use for the three of them? imagine all of them horny asffff at the same time barging into your room, leaving no room to protest as they rip off your clothes OMG I WANT THEM. leaving them pussy drunk after cumming so violently in their mouths omg…. im actually gonna #######

ALSO THIS PIC OF YUNJIN OMG IW ANTNTBSONRBEHR SOSOB

thanks for listening to my ted talk babes😘

AHHH VICYYY THIS IS SO—😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

parings: lesserafimunnieline x 6thmember!f!reader

warnings: free use, pussywhipped unnie line, cum eating, manhandling lowk, overstimulation, squirting, foursome, dumbification, praising, mentions of reader blacking out, not proofread😵‍💫

wc: 614 words

YAAYY I FIGURED OUT GRADIENT COLORS😝😝

today had been a long day, due to your long awaited comeback, EASY, you and your members had been performing nonstop. but you didn’t mind, in fact you love your job! you always give it your all when performing so fans think that you’re basically made for the stage.

you really stood out this comeback, especially in the bside, SMART. the way your hips swayed had everyone hooked in a trance, and it seemed like it had the unnie line of your group in a trance too.

you and the girls had finally got back to the dorms, exhausted was something that you all were feeling. you started to walk to your room after telling them all to rest well, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of eyes staring you down, turning around, your suspicion was indeed correct, turning around to see your three unnie’s staring you down with hungry eyes had you immediately turning away and quickly walk to your room.

after a nice shower you were now lying on your bed, wearing your pink sleep gown and engulfed in your pink blanket on the verge of falling asleep. hearing your door opening was something regularly done in the dorm room, so you weren’t startled. but what startled you was feeling the blanket being snatched off of you, making you groan and look up to see who the perpetrator was. what you didn’t expect was your three unnies, staring you down.

“wha- what are you doing? wai-” your sentence was cut off by yunjin, pinning you down is kissing you, words drowning in her mouth.

“is that how you talk to your unnie’s, baby?” chaewon muttered out before blowing on your wet cunt making your legs jolt.

“no underwear, baby? so dirty.” kkura teased, rubbing your bundle of nerves.

yunjin finally broke your kiss, having you gasping for air. you feel her go behind you to raise your body up, silently teasing your nipples making you whine.

if almost immediately, they dived into your soaked cunt, chaewon was sucking on your clit while kkura was sucking and tongue fucking your hole. you were moaning and squealing so loudly, back arching and desperately trying to close your legs around their heads, the sound of slurping and the sensation of two wet muscles on your poor cunny was all too much and had you cumming all over their faces! :((

but they just didn’t stop, drinking up all you gave them, and going right back to it. tears were falling down your face while yunjin was doing nothing but praising you and littering your face with kisses.

after your 4th orgasm, you were shaking uncontrollably, desperately trying to push their heads away. they were sucking on your puffy cunt until they let go with a loud pop, bottom half of their faces were drenched in your juices. yunjin let go of your body and onto the floor infront of your bed with her fellow members.

“you can give us one more, right?” yunjin asked, seating herself beside kkura.

“noo~ s’too much.” you whined, your words were slurred and damn near incoherent.

“have we fucked you stupid already? our dumb baby, so pretty for us.” chaewon said, eyes glazed completely over.

your legs were raised up by yunjin and chaewon, hands spreading your legs even further before diving right back into your abused cunny. you tasted so yummy on their tongues they couldn’t help but overstimulate you even more. having three mouths on your cunt had you babbling incoherent things and violently cumming all in their mouths! they were so pussy drunk they couldn’t help but eat you out until you blacked out on them. <33

#ningvory #♡.nabi’s asks #♡.moots #kpop smut #wlw smut #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim smut #sakura smut #chaewon smut #yunjin smut #miyawaki sakura smut #kim chaewon smut #huh yunjin smut #♡.lesserafim

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sturniolohouse · 2 months

Text

Landslide - C.S

summary: this is a a short platonic fic where chris and y/n can’t sleep and they have a heart to heart. (y/n is in relationship with matt).

A/N: i kept coming back to this draft, there was just something about it that i liked but it may not be everyone's cup of tea. working on another matt fic right now so stay tuned🫡

word count: 1.4k

“can i sail through the changing ocean tides? can i handle the seasons of my life?”

I wake up feeling hot but not being able to move. I open an eye and look down my chest to see a mop of brown hair laying just under my collarbone.

I sigh deeply realizing I’m caged in by a sleeping Matthew, half of his body on top of mine and his arm draped over my waist.

One thing I’ve told Matt since we started staying at each other’s houses is that I run hot in my sleep. But this kid always manages to find a way to touch me in his sleep. I even made him buy a fan for his room because of the fact that I cannot sleep without one on.

But tonight that fan is not doing shit and I’m trapped underneath a living furnace.

I sigh again feeling bad about moving and waking him, but I fear if I don’t move I will burst into flames.

I take another look at him and see he’s truly out cold so I may be able to get him off of me without waking him.

I reach for his hand on my left hip and lift it slowly, rolling myself away from him carefully before placing my feet to the cool wood floor.

I exhale in relief feeling myself cool down almost immediately as I look back to see him still sound asleep.

I grab my phone from the bedside table and see it’s almost 5 am. I run a hand down my face and get up slowly, walking to the door.

I might just sleep on the couch tonight.

I use the bathroom and head to the kitchen to grab a water. When I turn the light on, I see a figure on the couch from the corner of my eye.

I jump covering my mouth, "Jesus, fucking christ. You scared me." I put my hand over my heart that's about to beat out of my chest.

It’s just Chris.

"Sorry, sorry. It’s just me. I couldn't sleep." He laughs quietly, putting his hands up.

I sigh, “Me neither. Your brother was suffocating me.” I tell him, trying to be as quiet as possible.

I take two waters from the fridge, walking over to the couch and handing him one.

“Thanks,” He cracks open the cap. “Yeah, kid sleeps like a tornado.” He jokes and I shake my head.

“I was gonna sleep on the couch but you beat me to it. Weren’t you going to sleep in Nick’s room tonight?” I ask him, laying back into the cushion.

“Yeah it’s just not the same sleeping in his bed when he’s not home. So, I came down here but my mind is just…awake. Don’t know, won’t shut down I guess.” He confesses, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

Nick had spent the last couple of days with Madison since she had gotten back from tour and ended up staying at her house. And since I’ve been here, Chris has been on his own at night.

“You okay?” I ask softly, running my hand up and down his back. He gives me a tight lip smile and nods his head.

“I don’t really like the nights. They’re kinda lonely.” He shrugs as he fidgets with the label on the water bottle.

“I don’t want you to feel bad for me, I know I’m grown and should be able to fall asleep in my own bed it’s just hard for me,”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“It’s just,” he pauses, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “And don’t get me wrong, y/n, I really like you. I’m so happy Matt has found someone and you two clearly love each other. It’s just I look at people like you and Matt, and you have a connection. You have a partner you can do anything with. And I look at me who can’t, or won’t, allow myself to have those things. And it’s becoming harder and harder to drown out the loneliness, but I don’t know how to let anyone in like that. I’m scared that I can’t, you know?” He confesses and my heart breaks for him.

Chris and I have a very sibling like relationship. I’m close with both of Matt’s brothers, but when I first met Chris, we were at each other's throats.

It would be stupid shit, like me drinking a can of soda from the fridge that was “his” or me being in the shower for too long or Matt driving me somewhere after he had told Chris no.

This initially caused a lot of tension between Matt and I because he was torn between defending his girlfriend and his brother. But I never made him choose between Chris and I.

"I don't know why he's being such a dick. Kid's so fucking unreasonable." Matt sighs, running a hand down his face.

"He's going to have to get used to me at some point because I'm not going anywhere." I shrug, not taking his hostility personally.

"Him and I are going to have a talk tomorrow." Matt says shaking his head.

"Just wait it out. He'll come around," I reassure him, running my hand through his hair.

I always understood that it was difficult for him to adapt to the new dynamic between his brothers once I came into the picture.

Matt spent more time with me and less time with Chris and Nick and it was a pretty big adjustment for Chris at first.

It took a few months, but with a lot of patience and giving him space, I eventually broke through to him l. And now two years in, we have a deep understanding and respect for one another.

As two important people in Matt’s life.

“This isn’t really a mindset you can force yourself into. It’s gotta happen organically. And it can happen without you even realizing. But if you keep your heart and your mind open, you’ll find someone too. Anyone would be so lucky to have you, Chris, truly. You’re fucking amazing. And I’m not just saying that.” I say with a firm voice.

He nods, “I’m just in my feelings,” He tries to lighten the mood, a small smile peeking through but all I can see is the tiredness and uncertainty weighing in his eyes.

He’s not looking to deepen the conversation, but rather just looking for an ear to listen to his fears.

I listened, that’s all he needs.

“You want me to play with your hair to make you sleepy? Usually does the trick for me.” I offer with a soft smile.

He wordlessly puts his head in my lap and I run my fingers through his messy hair. Combing through the tiny tangles and knots.

“You need a haircut, kid.” I say and he flips me off without looking at me.

“I know, haven’t had the time.” He mumbles, shuffling and getting more comfortable.

Chris rarely lets anyone see his bad moments, let alone anyone but his brothers. But he’s been able to be vulnerable around me.

I’m there for him as much as he lets me. Even if it’s scratching his head so he can get some sleep.

He’s not always the loud, goofy person people see on camera.

Maybe 10 minutes passes and I start to hear the birds chirping outside and the beginning of sunrise is evident through the cracks of the shades.

I feel Chris begin to get heavier and sink deeper into the couch next to me.

“If you want, you’re more than welcome to take my spot in Matt’s bed.” I laugh softly and I hear him chuckle lowly as he shakes his head.

“I’ll pass.”

Soon enough his breathing slows completely and I know he’s asleep. I lay my head back and try to get as comfortable as I can, seeing as I’m stuck again.

When I close my eyes I hear Matt’s door creak open and see him peak out around the corner.

He spots me on the couch before giving me a confused look. I nod my head towards Chris on my lap, quietly showing I’m trapped. A small sleepy smile creeps on his face as he shakes his head and makes his way over to sit next to me.

"I was wondering where you went." He says lowly, his voice laced with sleep.

“Came out here because I was overheating and this kid couldn’t sleep either,” I whisper laying my head on his shoulder and yawning.

He hums, “Hmm, you scratched his head?” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me into him.

“Yup.”

“Works every time.”

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolohouse

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