#kyle scheible smut

[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 22 of Kinkmas: Late Night Sex With Kyle Scheible

A/N: i’m seeing wonka on new year’s eve!!

pairing: kyle scheible x fem!reader

warning: making out, protected sex, hickeys, riding

Y/N’s POV

It’s Friday night and I’m studying for a test that’s on Monday. Kyle is laying on my bed but I already thinking that he wants me but I need to get my studying done so I can know the questions for Monday.

“Are you done now?” Kyle asks leaning over where my deck is at.

“Not really.” I look at him.

“You’ve been studying for an hour now, you should take a break.” He says.

It’s true, I need a break.

“Fine, I’ll take a break.” I get on the bed next to Kyle and he wraps his arms around me.

“You’ll do fine Y/N/N.” He says kissing my cheek.

“Thank you, it’s just a huge part of our final grade.” I face him.

“Once again, you’ll be fine.” He strokes my cheek.

I kiss him on the lips and he kisses me back. He gets on top of me, he knows that my parents aren’t home because of a work trip and he’s staying here for the weekend.

“Kyle are you sure you want to do this?” I stop him from kissing me.

“Your parents aren’t here and I just want you to relax.” He whispers in my ear.

I kiss him again he kisses me back, I wrap my arms around him, I feel him smiling in the kiss. I begin to touch him, I make my hand go to his clothed cock, which makes him moan.

We take our clothing off and Kyle grabs a condom and puts it on his dick, he goes in and out of me, I gasp by how good he is. He begins to give me hickeys, I give hickeys to him as well, he groans. I get on top of him and begins to ride him, he grips on my hips and follows my lead.

After a while, we’re laying on my bed, cuddling and tired. I guess he was right, I needed this break from studying for 70 hours of my life, I just get over-stressed about a lot of things but I do pass my exams and classes all together. I’m just glad Kyle helped me through this to be honest.

[blair3writ3s]

And I Can’t Help Myself | Kyle Scheible

Kyle Scheible x F!reader, smut

You and Kyle end up stuck in the same hotel room after a concert, and he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible. Spoiler, he ends up knuckles deep inside you.

Warnings: confused to lovers. The CLASSIC one bed trope. Cussing, inexperienced reader. Reader calls people “babe” platonically. Kyle speaks French because Timothée does and it’s the hottest thing ever so!! The French is in italics :}

OOC but I don’t care

MDNI

Your extremely rusty, ancient car rumbled down the highway. The steering wheel trembled slightly beneath your hands. Honda Civics, seating exactly five, had almost enough room to fit the band. Almost. You had to make Kyle sit in the trunk.

Luckily, your car was a hatchback, and police officers didn’t have much interest in pulling over a rag-tag car full of high schoolers; blasting Seven Nation Army.

Olive, sitting next to you, shouted the lyrics of the song. Her blonde hair was all mused up from the wind, but it still looked marvelous.

Tony, Miles, and Jake, in the backseat, sang along. Their yelling was completed with air guitar motions and air drumming. With the windows rolled down, it was a madhouse.

Between the loudness of your band; and hair flying everywhere, it was almost enough to take your mind off the show tonight.

Almost.

The car rumbled along, nearing the shabby hotel Olive had booked for us. It was the closest hotel to our venue, and the cheapest too.

Turning down the radio and rolling up the windows, you shouted, your voice laced with excitement, “Guys! We’re almost here. Get your stuff together.”

Olive grinned, exclaiming, “Between your horrible driving and Ky in the back,” Kyle held up his middle finger from the trunk, face blank.

“I thought for sure at least one of us wouldn’t make it.” She laughed, her laughter a bird-like chirping. You swatted at her leather-clad arm playfully, scoffing at her antics.

Glancing in your mirrors, pulling into the parking spot, you locked eyes with Kyle. He had his book in one hand, bass on his lap. Nausea was plastered on his face, likely from the boat-like qualities of the car.

You snickered under your breath.

-

Kyle, face pale and hands sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the nausea etched on his face. Eyeliner was smudged around his eyes, and his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl back at home.

Unfortunately, you weren’t too different from them.

“Remind me,” Kyle grumbled, “To never let you drive anywhere ever again.” He said to you, a sarcastic lilt in his voice.

You turned around to face him, slamming your door shut. “Remind me,” I mocked, “Which one of us has an actual drivers license?” You walked over to him, picking your guitar up off the ground, along with your backpack full of essentials.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

You turned towards the back windshield of the car, hip bumping the side of his upper thigh. Combing your hands through your layered hair, and adjusting your tank top, you made eye contact with him in the mirror.

“At least I can drive, babe.” You commented, ignoring the prickle of fondness that ran down your spine.

“Sure, chérie,” Kyle said, lowering his voice to match the slight grin playing on his lips.

He promptly turned away, ruffling your hair before he walked towards the hotel, following your band mates inside. Your eyes, despite your best judgement, followed his figure. He was stupidly hot, a kind of hotness that a guy like him shouldn’t get to have.

Not that you would ever, not in a million years, tell him that.

-

“ONE ROOM?? I BOOKED THREE!” Olive screeched, an angry redness was creeping up her neck. She glared at the receptionist, “How do you expect 6 people to cram into one room!?”

The receptionist looked blankly at her, glancing at the lot of us. “I don’t know. But I can assure you that your file only has one room under it.” She clicked her tongue “you’ll have to make do.”

Olive clenched her jaw, eye twitching. “LISTEN HERE YOU-“ She raised her voice further, leaning inwards towards the older woman.

“Oli, babe,” You interjected swiftly, grabbing her arm. “Why don’t you go.. take a walk?” Olive’s jaw clenched, shoulders tense as she stomped out of the hotel. She slammed the glass door shut so hard you thought it would shatter. Luckily, it did not.

Pushing through your band mates to the front desk, you smiled in a friendly manner to the clerk. She did not not return your smile.

“Is there any way to book an additional 2 rooms now? We can pay.” You said, putting on your costumer service voice, that you use at your management job.

“Nope.” She said, voice as monotone as ever. “I’m afraid we only have one other free room, and it only has one double bed.” She flicked her eyes back across the group of us, “As opposed to the two separate beds your other room has.” She finished, glancing down to the computer, clicking away.

“We’ll take it! Anything’s better than one room.” Miles quickly interjected, glancing at you pleadingly.

“It’ll cost $100 for one nights stay, and because you’re just getting it now…$50 extra.” The clerk stated, glancing back up at you.

You turned towards Jake, the manager of the band. He swept his dark hair to the side, swiftly giving you the cash for the room.

You passed the money to the woman, and quickly guided the band up to the rooms.

-

“Ok, boys…and Olive,” You said, putting your hands on your maxi-skirt-clad hips. “Oli and I are going to take the room with the single bed, and you guys are going to have to figure out the other room.” You tossed Tony the keys, turning towards the room directly across the hall.

“Really?” Kyle challenged, grabbing your arm before you entered your room. “What are we, children? Why do all four of us have to get packed into that room,” he said, gesturing the boys standing around him, as well as the door to their room “while you and Olive get plenty of space?” He stated, walking towards the other end of the hallway, and towards the other room.

“I vote we split three for three. It’s much more fair.” Kyle declared, crossing his arms. “What do you think, little Miss Guitarist? ” he really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both feuding over something as fickle as rooming arrangements.

“I dunno, Mister Bassist, maybe I don’t want to share a room with your annoying ass!” You whisper-shouted, pulling Oli inside of the room and slamming the door behind you.

Kyle, from outside your door, yelled “Va te faire foutre, putain de con!”, banged on your door once, then gave up, going into his designated room.

-

“And I thought I had a flare for the dramatic,” Olive teased, setting her outfit for the night out on the bed. “You and Kyle are on a completely different planet. Especially with him yelling his French” She chirped, laughing at the situation.

“I can’t believe I actually won that fight,” You said lightheartedly. “I thought for sure he was going to kick down the door.” I rolled my eyes, turning towards her.

“I know, right? I mean, he still hasn’t given up with the whole dating thing..” Olive said, nudging you playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sighed, setting your bag on the bed. “He’s a player. I’d rather die than give in to that nightmare” You joked, turning back towards her.

Olive sighed, grabbing your hand softly. “I really don’t think he wants to hurt you-“

You swiftly interrupted her “-I’m going to take a quick shower before I start getting ready, ok, babe? I want to look perfect for tonight.”

“Sure,” she sighed, flashing you the classic; ‘I-don’t-agree-but-I’ll-go-along-with-it’, best friend look.

-

Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. Quickly stripping, you set out a towel for yourself and a hair mask. You took your time in the shower, scrubbing, exfoliating, shaving, moisturizing. You were determined to be ready for tonight, who knew how it would go.

The time flew so quick, it surprised you to hear a rhythmic knock on the door, disrupting your trance.

“What’s up?” You called, scrubbing the last of the hair mask out of your hair.

“I’m going to head over to the other room to practice with the boys,” Olive called through the door. “I want to go over vocals one more time with Miles. And I think Tony wants to assemble some of his drum equipment,”

“Ok! I’ll see you in 30.” You called back, excitement flowing through your veins for the approaching show.

You finished the shower, drying off and blow drying your hair. Tonight, you decided, you were going to go all out. Full glam, you suppose.

The room door clicked open, implying Olive’s departure. You heard some mumbling, but it wasn’t outside the ordinary to hear Olive talking to herself. The door promptly clicked shut.

Thinking nothing of it, you finished your makeup and hair, leaving the bathroom in only your bra and underwear from the day to find your outfit for the night.

The bathroom door clicked shut, and you whirled around, startled to find Kyle; sitting on your bed. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw his flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his hazel eyes stared into yours blankly.

He mumbled “Putain de chaud”, eyes darting away from yours. The bass that he had previously been strumming was left limp in his lap.

“What gibberish are you grumbling now?” You complained, Turing your back on him. Quickly slipping on a stray sweatshirt Olive had left out, you covered your torso and upper thighs from view. “What are you doing in here anyway?” You inquired crudely, digging through your bag for your clothes.

“Merde, I was just looking for my bass, and found it in here near your guitar.” He said, glancing away from your perturbed expression. “And it was really loud in the other room so I wanted to stay in here, ma femme parfaite.” He trailed off, not making eye contact while saying the last part.

“You can’t just switch into French and assume I understand,” You ridiculed him, pulling your tights on. “For all I know, you just called me a “cunt-bitch -whore” I teased, a playful smile pulling at my lips.

“The world may never know,” he said, lying back on the bed, slight smirk playing on his lips. His hair fell across his forehead, eyes closing, strumming his bass absentmindedly. And for a second, you wanted to kiss him.

-

The band unloaded out your car, hauling the musical equipment towards the entrance of the venue. Pushing through the door, you followed closely behind Olive, trying not to bump your band mates with the case of your guitar. The venue was still completely empty, to your relief. It was big, clearly a party scene. There was a slight haze in the air, from what, you don’t know.

Jake, being the manager, walked across the venue, beginning to set up the -sparse- merch he had designed for the band. It was a typical black band tee, but with the name of your band, “L'Enfance Nue”, sprawled across the upper half.

The rest of us decidedly walked over towards the stage, hauling the equipment behind you.

You hopped up onto the stage, placing your guitar and amp cord close to the center, but a little to stage left. Olive was already in the center with Miles, attempting to plug in their microphones to the questionable-looking amp.

Kyle stood to your stage left, also puzzling over the amp and his bass.

“Fuck this. My plug doesn’t fit,” He grumbled, standing up from his crouched position. Turning towards you, he demanded “Did you switch our cords, belle?”

You rolled your eyes at his antics, flipping your hair over your shoulder. Approaching the amp, you grabbed Kyle’s bass right out of his hands. You briefly glanced over it, noticing the black sheen and the shallow scratches throughout the face of the instrument.

You glanced up at him briefly; making, then quickly breaking, eye contact. His brunette hair had fallen into his eyes, mouth slightly agape, creating an aloof look.

You knew better.

“Oh,” you laughed, pulling the plug out of the socket on his bass. “You had the cord twisted. This side,” you clicked it into the amp, “goes here, and this” you finished the circuit, fully plugging in the instrument, “goes into here! Dumbass.” You laughed, strumming a B7 chord on the bass.

“Give that back, belle!” He demanded, grabbing your hand, which was now attempting a bass line that he plays during one of the songs.

“You can’t even play..” he trailed off, staring at your ring-clad hand. His hazel eyes drifted back up to yours, stopping briefly on your parted lips. An annoying smirk tugged on the corners of him mouth.

The position you two were in hit you like a bus. Your bodies were nearly touching, with his hand grasping yours, and his bass hanging from a strap around your shoulders. To an outsider looking in, you were about to kiss.

Yeah right.

You punched his shoulder with your opposite hand, backing away from him. Kyle scoffed, putting his hands up in surrender. Passing him his bass, you padded over to your own cord and instrument, plugging it in and tuning.

Your fingers played with the knobs on the guitar, adjusting it to perfection. You could feel Kyle’s insidious gaze on your profile, but you decidedly avoided eye contact. An embarrassed redness creeped up your neck, the tension of the room was becoming unbearable.

The lights in the venue began to dim, and the stage lights lit up. The ambiance of the room shifted, stirring your nerves. This was really happening, your first show.

-

The night went by in a haze, but the only thing you could really focus on was Kyle. He was in “the zone”, so to speak.

His hair was in his eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. A light sheen coated his forehead, dark eyeliner smudged around his eyes. He was strumming his bass with quick, ring-clad fingers, body swaying slightly to the beat.

And, despite his fuck-boyness, he looked angelic.

Kyle, finishing his bass line, glanced up at you, smirking. You smiled back, completing your solo at the end of the song.

The crowd cheered, a sound that was simply music to your ears. They loved you, loved the band. You basked in the glow of their cheers, hugging Olive from the side.

Kyle sneaked up behind the both of you, slinging his arm around your shoulder. He was smiling the brightest you’ve ever seen him smile, laughter was pouring from his lips like song.

Olive glanced at you mischievously, a small smirk pulling at her cherry lips.

“Y’all wanna hear some punk-ass French?!” She yelled into the microphone, laughing as the crowd erupted in cheers.

You both pushed Kyle forward, giggling as his face turned a bright crimson.

“Um, hey guys,” He said into the mic. There was a few whoops from the crowd, egging him on. “Nous sommes “L’Enfance nue”!” He said, laughing under his breath. “Nous sommes plutôt cool, alors... ouais. Passe une bonne nuit!” The crowd erupted into cheers and clapping.

You never wanted the night to end.

-

But, like all things, it did.

And now you wanted nothing more than to shower and relax, in your bed, alone.

Alas, Olive decided tonight, of all nights, was the night to make a move on Miles. And so, Olive sat on his lap in the backseat of your car, loudly making out with him.

And when you arrived at the hotel, they had wordlessly claimed the room with the two beds, locking the door swiftly behind them.

-

“Guys!! Really? Come ON!” You yelled, banging on the door. Turning to the group, you sighed, crossing your arms. “What are we going to do?” You groaned, leaning against the wall.

“Well.. I guess I can find another hotel..” Jake said, scratching the back of his head bashfully.

“I’ll go with him!” Tony quickly agreed, following Jake out of the hotel. You turned to Kyle, sighing reluctantly.

-

“Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with." Kyle followed, his movements mirroring yours. The small walk down the cramped hallway was filled with a tension.

Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching the door, you fumbled for the key, your irritation evident in your clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room that was thoroughly unappealing.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. Kyle rolled his eyes at the sight, scoffing at you.

“We’re not children, belle,” Kyle stated, starting to dismantle your fortress.

“‘You could’ve fooled me, Ky,” you said, giving up on the pillows. Grabbing your bag, you walked swiftly into the bathroom, hoping to change into something more comfortable.

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with someone who you refused to love.

And unfortunately, your resolve you crumbling.

-

You sat at the small vanity, brushing your hair out. You saw Kyle approaching you out in the reflection, but you refused to make direct eye contact.

You knew what was about to happen.

He touched your shoulder lightly, rubbing circles on the exposed skin.

-

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, his voice still soft. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.” Your voice is soft, too, but it is also nervous, almost fearful.

He knelt down. “Belle, look at me.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to look at him. In fact, you were quite sure everyone would be infinitely better off if you never laid eyes on him again, bandmate or no.

You did, though, turning around on the chair hesitantly. He took your hands in his, smiling at you in such a way that your heart fluttered.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He whispered, clutching your hands. “Your heart is safe with me,” he finished, blushing lightly.

“But I know you,” you told him softly with a slight shake of your head, “And I can’t do this.”

He tensed, his hands tightening around yours. “Why not?”

You shook your head again.

You couldn’t tell him why you refused to allow him to have you, despite him trying so many times in the past. You knew how he felt about you.

But you know how he is, what he does.

“I love you, belle,” he whispered fiercely. “I’ve loved you for months. I want you. I need you.”

“You don’t,” you insisted, yanking your hands away and standing up, backing away from him.

He stepped forward. You turned around, adjusting a table decoration to distract yourself from him.

Then, footsteps.

Hands on your hips.

Being pulled gently backwards.

The firm lines of a male body pressed against you.

The heat emanating from him, seeping through your clothes and into your skin.

“I do,” he said quietly, pulling your hair to one side and leaning down to press kisses into the skin of your neck.

You tried desperately not to whimper.

Logical or not, you wanted him to touch you, and had for a long time.

Kyle’s grip on your hips tightened. “I want you,” he said again. “I need to be yours” Another kiss to your neck. “Please, belle. Please don’t turn ms down. I’ll be good to you, I promise,” he swore. “The best you’ve ever had.” Another kiss, this one open-mouthed.

“I want to fill you,” he murmured. “With me at first, again and again until you’re screaming for it, screaming for me .” He slid his hands up and down your sides, lingering on your hips. “Then I want to fill you with my children.” Another kiss. “And then me again. I’ve been with a lot of women, and I know… I know I’ll never tire of you, never get enough of you.”

You knew he’d been with a great many women, but hearing him say it was like an ice shard in your chest anyway.

“How many?” You whispered, your voice sharp.

“You mean, uh…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“How many women?”

He didn’t speak for several seconds.

“About seven.”

Another ice shard.

“I see.”

“Does it bother you?” he questioned.

You didn’t say anything at first, but then, “You know it does,”

“But I love you,” Kyle pointed out, winding his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “I have for so long” You almost scoffed. Then, after a moment, he murmured, “Are you jealous?” 

“Of course not,” you said primly.

His hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts.

“I like that you’re jealous,” he told you, nuzzling your neck.

“I’m not,” you snapped.

Kyle chuckled softly, then sighed and said, “I won’t force you.” He stepped away from you. “But I… I need you to know,” he went on, “that I care for you a great deal. I’ll make it special for you. I’ll make it good for you,” he promised. “I can make you beg for me. I can make you burn for me as I burn for you.”

You turned towards him, bracing your hands against the table behind you for fear you’d fall over, shock evident on your face.

“You…” you paused, “you burn for me?”

He stepped towards you again until he was right in front of you, then cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Haven’t you seen the way I look at you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide.

“Let me be yours, belle,” he murmured, gazing longingly at your reddened lips. “Let me make you feel good.” He was leaning towards you slowly, gauging your reaction. “Please. I need you,” he said again, desperate for you. “Say you’ll have me,” he pleaded. “Say you'll let me take you, make you mine.”

“Aren’t I already yours?” You wondered aloud. Realizing your words, you slapped a hand over your mouth, face turning red.

Kyle smirked at you, chucking softly. “If you are mine I am certainly yours,” he responded.

You’d never thought you’d want to belong to someone, but you wanted to belong to him. Your heart and soul have belonged to him for a long time, though you’d never tell him that. What difference did it make if your body belonged to him, too?

You shouldn’t. You should refuse him. He would break your heart, and there’d be nothing you could do to escape him. You couldn’t very well kick him out of the band, could you?

You shouldn’t let him touch you, but with him looking at you that way, you weren’t sure you could refuse. Your resolve crumbled.

He’s already going to break my heart, you realized.

Unintentional it may be, but he will destroy you nonetheless, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. If you let him do as he wishes, at least you’ll have him in this small way. At least you’ll be able to pretend, for a moment, that he’s truly in love with you, too.

You couldn’t refuse him. You wanted this with him too much.

You clenched your eyes shut and nodded slightly. 

Within seconds, Kyle’s hand was in your hair and his lips were moving against yours with barely restrained passion. He wound his free arm around your waist, tilting his head slightly. 

His lips never leaving yours, moving against you with a gentle pressure, he began to untie drawstring that was keeping your shorts on your waist.

Having been the only person to ever see your body since you’d passed that age of 10, you nearly pushed him away from you, nearly swatted his hands away.

He was still kissing you when he slid your tank-top off of your torso. “Tilt your head,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes. You did so. “Move your lips like I do, okay?” You nodded your understanding, and he smiled. “Good. When my tongue touches yours, just do what I do, belle.”

“What does that mean?” You asked, your voice quiet and rushed as he moved in to kiss you again. “You’ve been calling me that all night”

“Belle?” he questioned. You nodded, and he smiled again. “It means ‘beautiful’.”

You blushed. “Oh.”

And then he kissed you again. Hard. You wanted more, wanted his lips to keep moving against yours, and when you tentatively mirrored his actions, he moaned against you, gripping your hip with one hand and placing the other at the small of your back. When he felt the fabric of your bra, however, he froze.

And you remembered that he hadn’t actually taken the time to look at you in your underwear alone. He pulled back slowly, his eyes sliding down your body.

It was a fairly typical set, black lace and pink stitching that led to a bow in the center. It pushed your breasts together slightly, and hugged your curves closely.

It left nothing to the imagination.

The shapes and lines of your body were visible. The color of your nipples, the slightly curved expanse of your stomach, the slender dip of your waist and the swell of your hips.

Kyle could see every part of you, and he stared at you for nearly a minute, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open just a fraction, before the two of them appeared to snap out of the trance they’d been in; him after seeing your body, and you at the horror of him seeing your body.

You crossed one leg in front of the other and covered your breasts with your arms.

Kyle, on the other hand, was in the process of pulling his shirt off as quickly as physically possible.

“No,” he practically growled as he yanked his shirt over his head and promptly began to unbuckle his belt, shucking off his shoes and socks at the same time. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, as he stripped down to his undergarments (a cotton pair of short pants with a drawstring, which he quickly undid) before sliding those over his hipbones, too, with absolutely zero hesitation.

You didn’t even get a look at his dick, he was on you so fast.

He kissed you roughly, with a groan of, “Belle,” against your lips as he slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders. It caught on the tops of your breasts, and you kissed him back hesitantly. “Take this off, amour.”

He kissed your neck wetly and began to suck on the skin there, and you were lost. Slipping your arms out of the confines of the bra, pulling it off your frame. You allowed him to slide your underwear down your legs, too, so that it pooled at your feet.

And then you were naked before him. Well and truly naked. He stopped kissing you, pulling away from you, panting. “Let me look at you.” When you lifted your arms up to block your breasts from view again, he grabbed your wrists. “No,” he said softly. “No. Tu m'appartiens maintenant.”

You found you quite liked the way French rolled off his tongue. Particularly the way he his mouth moved with every foreign syllable.

“What does that mean?” You asked, forcing your embarrassment at being so exposed from your mind.

He grinned. “It means you belong to me now.”

Yes, something deep inside of you whispered. I am yours.

And then you glanced down at his body for the first time, and…

No. No, this wasn’t going to work. It was not what you’d been expecting at all.

You have masterbated before, and it was indeed pleasurable. But that was two of your fingers, maybe three. Naturally, you’d assumed that a man would be about the same size (and therefore endurable) as your fingers.

Kyle was… Well. He most certainly wasn’t the same size as your fingers. In fact, he was about as thick as your wrist, or very nearly so, and seemed to be close to 7 inches.

Fuck.

This wouldn’t work. No, it certainly would not.

You looked back up at him, scoffing. He was taking a step towards you. You took one back. He raised an eyebrow at you, and you shook your head in response, earning a frown from your newfound partner.

“Nope,” you squeaked, taking another step back.

“Nope? Why ‘nope’?”

“If,” you began, “if that is what you plan on putting inside me, then I’m sorry to tell you, Kyle, but but there’s no fucking way”

He blinked at you in confusion. “Amour.” He said the pet name slowly, drawing out the syllables. “I promise you, it’s not impossible.”

“We can try, I guess,” you conceded, still inwardly skeptical.

Pushing past your worries, you tilted your head to the side, beckoning him back towards you. And when he pressed his body to yours, you felt it against your stomach.

Good god, but it felt even larger than it looked.

“I’ll prepare you,” Kyle promised, one of his hands resting on your hip. “You were made to take me.” He pressed a kiss just below your ear. “I know you were.” And then, he was murmuring French again. “Je vais te faire mendier pour ma bite.”

“What does that mean?” You gasped out as he trailed kisses up your neck and peppered your jaw with them.

He smirked against your skin. 

“It means I’ll make you beg for my dick.”

You whimpered. “Let me make you scream for me,” he said huskily before kissing you again, even more fiercely than he had before.

“Ky,” you gasped out as he laved at your neck. “Kyle, please—“

“I will,” he promised, cupping your cheek and kissing you hungrily. “Spread your legs for me, mon amour.”

You pushed down your nervousness by force and did so, too absorbed in him to ask the meaning of what he’d said. Once your legs were spread, he slipped his hand between them and began to stroke you.

He groaned when his fingertips first brushed against you. “You’re so wet,” he said hoarsely. “God, you must want me as much as I want you.” You didn’t speak, because he was kissing you again. And then he brushed his fingers against your clit, and you knew it was over for you. Your resolve snapped.

He rubbed you with one hand and grasped your breast with the other, stroking your nipple.

A whimper forced its way out of your throat, and he chuckled against your lips. “Does it feel good?” He was still stroking you between your legs, sending sparks of pure electricity shooting through your veins, and the fingers caressing your breast had started to pinch your nipple lightly. “Tell me if it feels good,” he encouraged.

“It— it does,” You gasped out as he trailed kisses along your jaw.

“Je vais te baiser jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses plus bouger, jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses plus respirer, jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses penser à rien d'autre qu'à moi,” he murmured in your ear.

“Kyle,” you whimpered, “if you— if you’re going to speak French, you have to translate it.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” He rubbed you a little bit faster, pinched your nipple a little bit harder. “I said I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move,” he told you lowly, “until you can’t breathe, until you can’t think of anything but me.”

He slid a finger inside of you, and it was insanely better than when you’d tried it on yourself. It was… it was divine. He pulled the finger out again, pumping it a few times and rubbing that spot with his thumb all the while.

A wet squelching sound filled the room that you were embarrassed by, but Kyle seemed to revel in it. “So wet for me,” he groaned, leaning his forehead against your shoulder and sliding another finger inside you.

You clutched at his shoulders, and your hips started to move against his hand. As soon as you became physically responsive, he lifted his head and kissed you desperately, his hand leaving your breast to cup your cheek as you practically rode his fingers.

You panted and whimpered, and when he saw you biting your lip in effort to keep quiet, he pulled your lip out from between your teeth with his thumb, stroking it.

“I want every part of you,” he whispered on an exhale. “I want to hear every sound you make. Don’t you dare hide them.”

Shutting your eyes tightly and letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thunk, you stopped trying to suppress your whimpers and cries of his name.

“Kyle, Kyle, ah, ah, Kyle—“

“I know, gentille fille,” he said quietly. “I know.”

“Oh, God, Kyle—“ you cried out.

“Trust me, beautiful. Let go.”

You were certain you were going to die. It felt as if he continued, you would die. It felt good, it felt incredible. You didn’t know how he was simply so good, but you were so grateful for it.

“Let go,” he said again, and you fisted a hand in his unruly hair, kissing him with a desperation you hadn’t known you’d had in you. His tongue brushed against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, yearning for him.

You were going to explode after all. This orgasm, it was building inside of you, and with it, your love for him was, too, and he kept thrusting his fingers into you, kept stroking you with his thumb, and you kissed him again, for fear you couldn’t contain the words within you, but then your head leaned back of its own accord.

“Kyle Kyle Kyle please, please don’t stop—“ you moaned loudly, chanting his name like a prayer.

“I won’t,” he promised darkly. “Cum for me, amour.” You cried out again, and he leaned down and bit your neck. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Cum for me.”

“Ah ah ah, oh fuck, Kyle—“ You were sobbing now, and Kyle leaned down to suckle at your nipples, biting them gently. You practically screamed, and then you burst into starlight, and as you did, something emerged from you that you couldn’t have contained no matter how hard you tried.

“Ky,” you were sobbing.

“I know,” he murmured against your breast.

“Kyle, I love you, please, I— I love you, I love you I love you I love you, Fuck, Kyle, ah!” He froze when he heard you say it, but you were already clenching around his fingers, your body convulsing.

He pulled back from you and removed his fingers from within you, still in shock.

“Really?” He finally murmured, tilting your chin up softly. His hazel eyes gazing back into yours.

“Yeah,” you said softly, caressing his cheek. “Yeah.” You repeated louder, a smile tugging at your lips.

-

And they lived happily ever after blah blah blah

-

[persephonesdreams21]

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

Synopsis: You really though that Kyle liked you. How stupid could you be?

When you begin shutting him out, Kyle realizes just how much he needs you in his life. Will he be able to prove it to you before he loses you completely?

Rating: Explicit!

Pairing: Kyle Scheible x Plus Size Reader

Coming soon!

[yourbiggestfear88]

looking for mutuals!

hey, i just made this account and im looking for mutuals.

ill be writing imagines and smut for literally anyone. try me

literally ill write for anyone i really dont care. just try me. i like writing, so if you have any imagines and requests send em!

[kteezy997]

how do you think timmy’s different characters (wonka, paul, hal, kyle, lee, elio) would react to you randomly, whenever you feel like it, getting on your knees to suck them off

Wonka: "Oh," narrowing his brows at you, genuinely surprised, "what are you doing?" Realizing, his eyes widen, he checks around to make sure no one can see, and then lets you have your way.

Paul: In a sort of whisper shout, he says, "What the hell are you doing?" He pulls you back up to your feet, saying in hushed tone, “No one should see the Emperor that way. We will save that for later, and you will have the most desired sperm in the universe in your mouth.”

Hal: Watches you with a smirk, "Oh, go on, darling. That's a good Queen: servicing her King at any given moment." He pets your hair like the good girl you are as he ruts his hips.

Kyle; Takes an inhale of his cigarette, doesn't say a word when he blows out the smoke, just grabs a handful of your hair, pulling. He takes an active and rather dominant role in the jerking of your mouth on him.

Elio: A silly grin creeps onto his lips, and he holds onto either side of your head. He relaxes as you take him into your mouth, and he tastes of peach for some reason.

Thanks anon! Should I do more characters?

@gatoenlaciudad @robertpattins0nswh0re

[strawberryroyai]

Attention!

Hi! I am a new and inspired writer in this community. I will like to get myself more use to writing and possibly engage myself with more writers and readers <3 My ultimate outcome would be to get more experience and a more creative outlook when it comes to writing. This message is entirely for you to understand where I am coming from and hope you can give me ideas or writing commissions. The tags I will use are some of the fandoms I have read myself and will be more comfortable writing! I hope you will submit something and will read something of mine soon! <3 Thank you! - M ♡

[1eatpancakes]

Hii , i wanna continue writing like i was before lmaoo pls send request !! ( Smut , fluff , and angst ) .

characters i will write for :

kyle scheible

laurie laurence

paul atreides

willy wonka

I’ll definitely write for others , just lmk !!

Bye babes <3

[apolloanddaphnis]

Amberline

Disclaimer: This story is going to be dedicated to a very good friend of mine, why she thinks I'm good enough to let me write a character for her, I dunno.

This a Kyle Scheible x OC, there's definitely smut, adult situations, all high school characters are portrayed by adults. There's mention of eating disorder.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Part I

Sacramento High School was no longer a public school.

This year it was changed to a charter due to its very low performance.

To be honest, this town is now poor or rich, and I fall into the latter as my mother loves to remind me. It's why I've been babysitting since I was twelve, and why this past summer I was working at a doughnut stand at a fair, and this school year I'll be working at Blockbusters.

College doesn't pay for itself, and mom made it no secret that she wasn't going to donate one red cent, why should she even though my babysitting and doughnut money go toward the nice apartment we live in and toward her payments for her Lexus she can hardly afford.

I don't even have a car, and does she ever drive me to work or school? No, it's my bicycle or a bus.

She's one of those southern women that always drone on about earning things, telling me life ain't easy and I best get a grasp of that early, especially since I'll be joining the rich kids of Sacramento for my senior year.

Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic High School is so graciously funded by Charlene Sixkiller, my dearest mother. She said it'll help me get to a good school. I'm truly grateful, but I feel so pressured, I feel like school and me leaving at eighteen is all we talk about at home.

I don't even know what I want to do.

Like fuck.

I love writing but my mom says that it doesn't pay the bills. It's a big reason why she won't help me with college, because I'm choosing to be an English Major.

Okay so maybe I do know what I want to do with my life.

I write gothic novels, a cross between horror and romance. I'm not very good at it but I love writing, between that and my diary it's the only way I can actually express myself.

-

It's awkward going to Catholic school and you're not a catholic, mom was brought up southern Baptist, and I hardly know a damn thing about my dad. Although he's probably the same, being from the same area.

I've only been to my mom's hometown of Rocky Mountain, North Carolina five times in my life, and every single time I count the hours for when we return to California.

My dream school is UCLA. It's hard as hell to get into, but going to this school will help. L.A. is far enough from central California where I won't have to deal with my mom again, and besides my dad's there. Maybe I can find him, ask him why I wasn't worth sticking around for.

My alarm clock blared Good Charlotte throughout my room. With a long groan and a painful stretch, I literally threw myself out of bed.

Dragged myself to the bathroom and pulled myself into the shower. I know being goth at a catholic school is going to be a total nightmare, but I was still Gung ho on making a good first impression. I washed my hair twice with the fruity smell of my Garnier shampoo and conditioner. Then massaged my loreal color mask into my waist length black hair before combing it through and clipping it up on top of my head.

My acne is starting to clear up but there's still some stubborn blemishes on my cheek. I washed my face with a morning burst about four times before using the scrub, why did I have to have problematic skin? Between acne, my fat ass and my boobs, I felt like there were twenty signs to point out how much of an ugly freak I am. I still tried though, some days I didn't think I looked bad, but days like today…

I scrubbed my skin with my electric apple lathered loofah until it was red and raw, and then rinsed my hair mask. I turned on the radio and brushed my teeth to the new Red Hot Chilli Peppers song By the Way, my eyes gazed with judgment at my reflection. How shall I fix myself today? I was getting over an eating disorder from last year, this weight is new to me. My doctor said I looked great, but sometimes I see a dancing hippopotamus in fantasia.

I rubbed Ponds onto my face and Bath and body works toasted hazelnut lotion on my skin. I sprayed my Secret powdery deodorant on. Blowing drying my waist length, ebony hair took a half an hour and that was me rushing. I sealed it with my Garnier serum and then did my makeup, far too much black eyeliner just past the point of you have gone too far, and cherry chapstick.

I pulled on my black panties and bra before pulling on the gray pleated school skirt I was forced to wear, I felt like a soldier preparing for war. The white buttoned down shirt was tucked in and I threw on my black zipper hoodie leaving it unzipped. I pulled on black knee high socks and scrunched them down before tying on my doc martens oxfords. I shoved on my many bracelets from a Hot Topic haul and made sure my black, stretchy choker constricted my neck. I brushed my hair down one more time and sprayed on my Victoria's Secret love spell body spray I got for my last birthday. I looked at myself, the kohl making my green eyes pop like I was on something. I wouldn't call myself hideous, just not pretty, not enough.

I wasn't enough for my old friends, when I was found passed out in the girl's bathroom everything changed. Nobody wanted me around, Alyssa and Taylor stopped sitting with me at lunch, and Alyssa started dating my crush Zach. They all acted like we never met.

But I was always the one who brought the least to the group. If I couldn't make it to a Marilyn Manson concert, they still went, but when Alyssa had the flu and couldn't make it to Disneyland, everyone canceled.

I was the one who was everyone's shoulder to cry on, at twelve I taught Taylor how to use pads and take motrin when she got her period, I told Zach he was good at drums, and anytime Alyssa had guy troubles it was me who lost sleep talking to her until 3am on the phone, it was me who bought her Häagen-Dazs and watched her stupid guilty pleasure show with her, Sex and the city, it was me who washed her hair and ran her a bath.

But it was never enough. Who knows, maybe I'm not meant to be happy. It's not in the cards for me I think.

The main reason for starting fresh and going to a new school wasn't just about college. It was so I wouldn't have to see the faces of the people who were supposed to be my best friends in the whole world, and couldn't get off their asses to visit me in the hospital.

I put my headphones and placed my Simple Plan CD into my player and turned it on blast.

Mom already left for work, she wasn't the kind of mother to prepare me a big breakfast for my first day. I grabbed an apple and granola bar and left to go catch the bus, getting catcalled on the way by guys old enough to be my dad.

Getting on that school bus was what you expected, the kids caught a look at the girl with black hair and equally black eyeliner and snicker or get out my way faster than a bat out of hell.

I sat in the very back next to a girl with shoulder length, dirty blonde hair pushed back by a headband that matched her gray school skirt.

She started talking to me, I saw her mouth move but couldn't hear one word. What is wrong with her? Can't she see that I'm wearing headphones? I wanted to ignore her so badly but I could not be rude to save my life. So I tapped the pause button with a black nail and pushed my headphones down before looking at her. "Can I help you?"

She smiled and laughed. "I was just saying you're new, I've never seen you before."

She wanted to bother me for that? I smiled though. "Yes, you're right. How perceptive of you."

The girl just laughed. "I'm Gretchen, I go to Mary's too, what grade are you in?"

"I'm a senior."

"Me too! We're the only seniors on the bus, did you know that?"

Thank you Gretchen for making me feel like such a loser.

The bus ride consisted of Gretchen asking for my entire autobiography. Was she a news reporter or something? All she got out of me was that I went to Sacramento High, which she made a snobby face at, and that I didn't leave behind any friends.

Once we got off of the bus, she didn't leave me alone. She was telling me about everyone who went to our school. I nodded along without paying attention but couldn't find the heart to be mean. I mean she's taking the time to get to know me and be my own personal tour guide.

"Amberline is a really strange name." She said suddenly.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I'll change it when I get the chance."

She laughed and I held back the urge to roll my eyes. "I'll just call you Amber, come on Amber I'll take you to morning mass?"

"Morning mass?"

She nodded. "It's a catholic school of course."

I followed her to the chapel, it was all very beautiful and sacred looking. Pairs and pairs of eyes focused on me though, and I noticed boys filing in, which confused me since this was an all girls school. I asked Gretchen about it.

"The boys school shares certain things with us like the chapel for morning mass." Then Gretchen gasped and whispered loudly to me. "Oh there he is!"

"Who?" I asked with confusion, she was acting hysterical.

"Kyle Scheible!"

Walking in the line of boys to the priest was a boy far too handsome to be in high school, but you could clearly tell he is in fact in high school. Is he the usual ghostly pale and manic panic black haired with piercings type I go for? No, he was so much better than that. Something I thought I'd never say.

I can't believe that I can actually understand Gretchen's state of hysteria, but I do.

He has hooded, sleepy looking dark green eyes, with flecks of Hazel, I saw this as he walked by me. His lashes were poetically long and his nose pronounced beautifully. His lips were drawn in a pout that matched his careless posture of hands buried in the pockets of his khakis, which should have taken away how hot he is but it didn't.

His hair, God his hair needed the attention of my fingers combing through the dark chocolate curls. He wore it longish in a poetic way, his lean physique made him look taller, and he has the sort of neck you just know smells so good.

And because Gretchen isn't that great of a whisperer, he did look over. It was a lazy look over at first, like he was used to these whispers of him, which he probably was. But then his lazily droopy eyes popped open and bit when looking over at us. At me.

Oh no, oh God he was looking over at me? I immediately felt self conscious, what if he notices my breakouts? What if he finds my nose strange or finds me annoying looking? It's a catholic school. What if my look was too Crucible for him? Why did this guy who I don't know, opinion matter so much to me?

He looked at me, he really looked at me– Oh God, he stepped out of line to walk over straight to me. I could barely hear Gretchen's panicking, it was just me and him in this place of worship. Someone whispered how Kyle never approaches anyone.

He then stood over me, my eyes widened a bit and a hardly there smirk painted his pursed lips. His dead eyes swept over me, and in a lazy voice he asked, "Do you smoke?"

"Yes."

I don't know why I said it, I've never touched cigarettes in my life and I've only had one beer when I decided alcohol wasn't for me. But for this mystery boy, I thoughtlessly said yes.

"I mean no, I lied, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." I said breathlessly. Why was I out of breath?"

Kyle just…smiled at me, it looked foreign on his lips like he wasn't used to it. "What's your name?" His voice was musically calm.

I opened my mouth to answer but I was up next to bite the wafer and sip the wine. I didn't hear from Kyle for the rest of the day.

@meetmyothersouls

[nyeddleblog]

Short Skirts and Bright Eyes. [Part 2]

Pairing: Kyle Scheible x Plus Sized!Reader.

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, cliff-hanger, lots of fluff and mostly Kyle being so out of himself it feels like he’s out of character… But don’t worry because I know pretentious bastards like him and in the next part I’ll make up for this.

Request: is it just like? Timmy only or could it also be Kyle from ladybird cause if so like you could do one where they meet at a gig and she’s pretty average good girl in her shell and they talk and get to know each other but like his friends make fun of him cause 1) she’s a bit bigger than him and 2.) he actually likes this girl and is so beside himself because of her

Summary: You look like a mess, you act like a mess and you’re probably the most average good girl he’ll ever meet, but he can’t take you out of his mind and you bring out the best of him.

Part 1.

“Have you tried wearing anything more... Revealing?” Christine asked you as she went through your wardrobe. You sighed, shaking your head “Why not? You could totally pull it off, I like the way you dress.”

“You like the way I dress, but you want me to wear something more revealing” you mimicked her, rolling your eyes playfully. “To be honest, I have enough with the skirt that I wear to school. Is Julie coming to this party?”

“No, Jenna only wants people she knows in her house.”

You rolled you eyes again. Was Ladybird really this naive? Or did she think you were stupid enough to be fooled by that lie? Either way, you knew you were her excuse to enter. Somehow your encounter with Kyle had given her the perfect social life to befriend Jenna Walton, without having to exclude one of her closest friends. 

But what about Julie? Couldn’t she just fraction a bit of her time for her?

“Jenna doesn’t really know me, so maybe I shouldn’t go...”

“Oh, Y/N! You know Kyle, she knows you do!”

“I literally talked with him ONCE!”

It was Christine’s turn to roll her eyes. You sighed, finally giving up and letting the memory take over you. If you did this now, maybe you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. If you talked to her now, maybe the problems would be solved in the moment.

“Do you know how I met Kyle?”

Your friend turned to look at you, curiosity taking over her eyes.

“I fell, in front of him. I was on my period, I was bleeding from my vagina, and I fell and I swore from the look in his eyes that he saw the pad, the panties and my whole soul if it were to be down there!”

Christine stared at you. You breathed in, breathed out and rose from the bed to see if she was mocking you.

“Was it before or after your mom waxed you?”

It totally broke the tension. You found yourself laughing softly at her idiotic question, and also wishing you had never told her about the wax thing.

“SHE WAXED MY LEGS, LADYBIRD!”

She laughed in response, but then the sudden realization hit the both of you; it took her eyes widening at the possibility to get you laughing harder.

“Oh, no!” you managed to huff out “Then you’re right, Kyle definitely knows me!”

Christine’s face went red from laughter, holding her stomach as her knees instinctively buckled her to the ground. “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! THIS IS SO FUNNY! I’M SO SORRY YOU HAD TO GO THROUGH THAT BUT THIS IS TOO MUCH!” 

“Ughhh, just kill me already!” As your body seemed to show your evident discomfort by the idea of him seeing any hint of blood, your fingertips found a rather soft fabric between your clothes “Huh, look at this.”

“Hey, I remember that dress!”

Between your hands was a simple clothing. You once bought it, the first time you had ever gotten enough money to buy a dress for yourself; and you remembered falling in love with it but never using it the way it deserved.

“Please tell me you’re not wearing it with pants underneath like the last time” Christine murmured.

“I am definitely wearing it with tights under though.”

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“That’s not a tights underneath kind of dress!”

You wore it with tights underneath either way.

And when you entered the house of the party host, big and filled with strangers, with a... Justin Timberlake? sounding softly on the background, you felt so out of place. You didn’t even know who to talk to.

You greeted the host, whose parents didn’t care if you drank or not; you smiled at Ladybird and in a matter of seconds you lost her. 

“Heyy!” a girl greeted you. You politely smiled back at her and she pointed at your outfit. “I love the dress! I could never have the self esteem...”

Your mind instantly muted her, and for the way she looked at you, you might have even rolled your eyes at her. 

So you went outside, where nobody seemed to like the appeal of. You wondered why, if the pool was empty and the sky was clear and so attractively dark.

You took off your shoes, sat at the edge of the pool and sunk your feet into the water. Then you saw Kyle.

“Hello there” you greeted, more to yourself than any other; not even expecting an answer.

He looked at you and it was instant regret.

It happened a lot that whenever you saw him, if you saw him, his superiority complex overwhelmed you. It was like his eyes were constantly telling everyone “I know more than you, I’m interesting” but at the same time “Think I’m mysterious, think I’m different, tell me I’m special”, and it just repelled you.

“Hello...” he answered.

You didn’t exactly know how to continue the conversation, so you just left it there; playing with your hands, waiting for your friend to come and save you.

“I, hum, your name is Y/N, right?” the boy murmured, a little bit taken aback by your lack of words.

“The one and only” remembering the scene you blushed “One would think such an intelligent boy would have a better memory, Kyle”

It was simple teasing, but his heartbeat raised either way.

“I’m sorry, was trying to play it cool” The boy was taken aback by his own honesty. You couldn’t help but giggle “Why are you here? I wasn’t expecting, not that I- I didn’t think you’d come”

“Oh, so you were waiting for me then?” 

You were flirting?

The boy sunk in his seat. You slowly stood up from yours to take one next to him, your shoes in hand.

“I like your dress” he casually commented. 

“What? Am I brave for wearing it?” you mocked the girl from earlier.

He frowned. “Well, you contributed to the economy, so I wouldn’t say you’re brave; more like a state controlled lab rat.”

“Right, says the dude goes to the most expensive school in Sacramento.”

He chuckled “It mattered to my dad, I guess”

“Well, I like this dress” you take his hand so he feels the material “See? It’s soft, both are valid excuses”

“I’m trying to live by bartering alone” he explained his earlier statement. You had thrown him off his rhythm and the shy tone softened something inside you.

“That’s not bad, if only we didn’t live in the United States of America”

His hand stayed on the fabric, caressing it. “I like how the dress looks on you”

“As in you wish you’d had my self esteem?” you mocked again.

“No...” his hand traveled to your waist and a chill went down your spine “As in it has the perfect amount of cleavage and the perfect length to let me see your pretty legs.”

“Oh”

He leaned in forward and for a moment you thought that, well, you might as well kiss him. He was attractive, he was into you, it was a party and meanwhile you didn’t take this forward you probably wouldn’t regret this.

But then...

“Y/N!” you looked back to your friend, and you saw the instant guilt reflecting on her face “I’m so sorry to interrupt! But like, there’s a creep here and... Can we go now? Please?”

You squeezed Kyle’s hand and stood up to leave. 

“You know where to find me.” you told him.

“I do” he said as he saw you walk away.

TAGLIST: @velventeenaries @lawstudentbydayfangirlbynight @vixen-vendetta @i-love-you-green @caxsthetic 

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Teenage Dirtbag (K.S.)

While I’m not exactly who you hoped would be writing these requests for you, I hope they are what you were looking for @nonchalantflower and anon 💛 I had so much fun writing for Kyle and would DEFINITELY be interested in writing more parts for this if you guys are interested! Enjoy, my thirsty friends 😘

(arguments, slight physical roughness, smut)

“Don’t forget your lime, sweets!”

You smiled and raised your cup in silent thanks to the girl pouring drinks behind the kitchen counter. It was far too loud to do much else. Music blared as people drunkenly sang karaoke in the living room and the rest were either singing along or trying to yell over the sound trying to hold conversation. You had not been much of a party-goer before Kyle, and you weren’t much of one after either. You sighed, looking into the cup for a moment before shooting back the contents. You briefly wondered why you were even there until a pair of arms wrapped around your middle.

“Y/N!!! Come dance with me pleeeeaaasseeeeee!” That’s right. You’d promised your best friend, Missy, that you’d escort her to this specific party to make sure she didn’t get herself into too much trouble. You knew it was just a lame excuse to get you out of the house, but you figured it couldn’t hurt anything. You allowed her to pull you into the backyard where the band was going strong and hot bodies danced freely in the night air. There was something about it that made you relax a bit. Your body slowly succumbed to the alcohol and began to rock to the music along with everyone else in the crowd. “That’s my girl! Get it babe!” Missy cheered, dancing and laughing easily with you. You let yourself laugh too, feeling yourself untense for what felt like the first time in months. It felt good. The longer you danced, the more you lost track of your surroundings. You closed your eyes and slipped under the music and intoxication.

You were abruptly pulled from this euphoria, however, as the music came to a close and Missy began tugging you back toward the house. “There’s a group starting Seven Minutes in Heaven!” she squealed. You briefly realized this was exactly the trouble you were supposed to be keeping her out of, but she was so excited that you couldn’t find it in your mildly inebriated self to tell her no. You and her brushed past multiple couples making out and someone definitely revisiting their dinner in the bathroom to find a large circle of people gathered in the library upstairs. A tall, blonde jock walked around collecting bits and bobs from each individual in his sweaty hat. You watched Missy pull her earring from her ear excitedly, ready to add it to his collection.

“God, this is so bad,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Just keep it in your pants, that’s all I ask.” She elbowed you sharply in the ribs before placing the earring in.

“You gonna play, toots?” the blonde asked, eyeing you up and down.

You shivered in mild disgust, quickly shaking your head. You were about to make a snide remark when Missy pulled the clip holding your hair up from your head. “Ow! What the hell?”

“You’re playing, and that’s final,” she said, adding your clip to the hat. You huffed, submitting easily. You definitely couldn’t deny that you needed some action.

“Alright, gents! Who’s up first?” the blonde called over the group.

“This guy over here! Total closet monster!” A group of guys started cheering and shouting from the corner of the room. You couldn’t quite see who was the object of their jeering quite yet. “Everyone knows bassists get HELLA pussy! Let’s goooo!!”

That was the first in a series of events that quickly filled your stomach with dread. No. Fucking. Chance. Suddenly, the unfortunate boy was pushed out from the group of shouting teens, confirming your worst fears. You swallowed, looking down and praying he didn’t see you.

“Shit,” Missy whispered in shock, turning to look at you. You grimaced, suddenly feeling a bit ill.

Chants of “Kyle! Kyle! Kyle!” rose from the whole room as the lanky boy you knew every inch of rolled his eyes and reached into the hat. You shivered, praying silently that fate could not possibly be cruel enough to lock you in a closet with your

ex-boyfriend for seven minutes of pure hell.

Fate laughed darkly in your face.

The minute he pulled the clip out, his intoxicated smile fell from his face slightly. He recognized it. Even now.

“That’s the little miss right over there!” The jock pointed to you and his exclamation was followed by a series of cheers and “oh shit”s from people who recognized the situation. You suddenly found yourself pushed to the middle of the room next to him, Missy shouting your name behind you as strangers' hands forced you forward.

“That’s his ex!” someone shouted, making you visibly cringe. The group collectively fell to hushed whispers and quiet laughter.

“Shit.” You finally forced yourself to raise your head, looking over at the boy who’d uttered the syllable and that you were once convinced you were in love with. He was still looking at the clip in his hands, but quickly felt your eyes on him and looked up. He was smirking softly.

Rage ran through you from head to toe in half a second. Who the fuck did he think he was?

“Well, lovers, the closet awaits! No one denies the destiny of the hat!” The more times this blonde opened his mouth, the more you wanted to punch him in the throat.

“The destiny of the hat,” Kyle repeated, clearly amused by the unevolved thought processes of the people around him. Pretentious asshole. He straightened his shoulders and strode over to the closet, seemingly unaffected. You watched in shock and anger, unable to understand how he could possibly think you were going to go through with this. He simply stood inside the doors, looking at you expectantly along with everyone else in the room.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” you muttered, stomping after him. The crowd erupted into cheers and hollers of crude things you’d hate to imagine your mother hearing. Wearing that damned smirk, he pulled the closet doors closed behind you and sealed you both in darkness.

“Seven minutes starting now. Remember kids: make love not war!”

You scoffed, your arms over your chest. “Okay. What the actual fuck are you

trying to prove?”

Kyle shook his head, looking at you in earnest. “What is it, Y/N? Don’t believe in the destiny of the hat?”

“You are a child,” you spat, fury bubbling in your veins. The blissful feeling of the alcohol in your system was long gone, replaced with anxiety and frustration. “Why are you doing this? This isn’t you.”

Now he scoffed. “You never knew who I was, Y/N. You just saw what you wanted to see and were disappointed. Join my little anti-fan club!” He threw his hands in the air, laughing bitterly.

“You’re so full of shit! You’re so busy hating the world and everything in it that you refuse to let people into your life.”

“Yeah, life really dealt me such a stellar hand, don’t you think?”

You fell quiet, so frustrated you couldn’t find words. Tears burned in your eyes and your fists clenched at your sides. You stepped forward, pressing a finger into his chest. “You had me, you asshole. But you pushed me out when you felt yourself start to need someone.”

He exhaled sharply, making you realize how close you had gotten. “Yeah, you’re right,” he replied, his voice suddenly lower and quieter, but still sharper than a double-edged blade. “It’s my fault I needed space to grieve my dying father- my apologies.” His breath hit your face as he over-punctuated every consonant, his hand finding itself holding your chin.

Your eyes went wide as he laid his hands on you, your breath caught in your throat. He noticed instantly, his predatory eyes glancing down at your mouth for a flicker of a moment. You both knew it was all over.

He pushed you roughly back to the other side of the tight closet, his mouth on yours with ravenous intensity. You gasped, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pushing him away. Your wild eyes met his, searching for something to make this make sense. Unable to find it, you tugged him back down to your lips. He growled lowly, his hands sliding under your shirt and firmly holding onto your sides while your hands tangled into his mop of dark curls; old habits die hard. His insatiable lips traveled down your neck to the spot he knew made your knees weak.

“Fuck, Kyle,’ you squeaked, hating how easily you’d given into him. But he had kissed you first. Perhaps the shoe was finally on the other foot. You were pulled from the moment by the sounds of cheering coming from outside the thin closet doors. You’d nearly forgotten you were being listened to by a room full of horny teenagers.

“Plebeians,” Kyle muttered hotly against your skin, unhindered by their antics. His hands slipped in opposite directions, one approaching the waistband of your jeans and the other reaching for the underside of your breast. Your hand quickly grasped his wrist, halting his movements.

His eyes flashed, meeting yours. Despite the darkness, you could see the lust in them. “What is it, princess? Forget what it’s like to be touched by a creature with an IQ higher than 6?”

You locked your jaw, glaring at him while you fought to catch your breath.

“There’s my stubborn girl,” he breathed hotly against your ear as you slowly released your grip on his wrist.

“I’m not your girl,’ you gasped, feeling his cold hand slip into your panties.

“Maybe not. But no one gets you wet like this.” He groaned softly, feeling your slick coat his fingers as he drug his fingertips through your folds. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Mm, and I’m sure you aren’t turned on at all, right?” you jabbed breathlessly, you hand slipping up his shirt to rest against his hot skin.

He visibly shuddered, leaning forward to catch your earlobe between his teeth. “Tease.” His long fingers made slow, tortuous circles on your clit, making you let out a soft cry into the dark closet. “Why don't you find out for yourself?”

His filth made you tremble, fisting his hair and tugging just hard enough to get him to let out a grunt of pleasure. His fingers quickened their pace, the forearm of his opposite side pressed against the wall next to your head as he pressed your bodies together. You reached down to feel his lust pressing adamantly against his fly and could confirm that he wasn’t lying. “Goddamnit.. I’m close,” you confessed, feeling your body betray you. You so desperately didn’t want to give him what he wanted, but his fingers were too persistent and he knew your tells far too well.

A harsh knock on the door struck like a cold splash of water. Kyle quickly pulled his hand from your pants,his damp fingers splayed against your bare stomach. “Alright, kids. Couples counseling is up in 30 seconds. Put on your clothes and get decent… or don’t.” Fucking idiot.

Kyle stepped back, seeming to suddenly come back to himself. Still breathless, you straightened and grabbed hold of his angled jaw. “You are going to finish what you started, or, so help me-“

He grabbed your hand and pressed it against the still-very-present bulge in his jeans. The muscles of his jaw contracted beneath your fingers. “Trust me, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

The door flew open and you quickly pulled your hand from his. Applause greeted you along with momentary blindness from the brightness of the room. Kyle’s hand was around your wrist and pulling you out of the room before you could even fully regain your bearings.

(To be continued?)

[blair3writ3s]

Intro & Masterlist

Hello! Welcome to my blog. My name is Blaire, my pronouns are she/her.

I typically write smut and fluff, and who I write for depends on the week haha. I am most comfortable writing m/f, but I will occasionally write m/m or f/f if requested.

Speaking of requests, I adore them! I might be slow to get to them, but trust me, I will get through them eventually. (I am more likely to write for a character that I’m currently obsessed with hehe)

Masterlist:

And I Can’t Help Myself - Kyle Scheible smut

Coming soon :P

Tags:

Just talking - #blair3talks

Headcanons (nsfw & sfw) - #blair3thoughts

Smut - #blair3🖤

[persephonesdreams21]

@strawberriescherrieskiwi writes Kyle like no one else omgggg. Babes. You’re making me want to write an entire novel for this man😂

[timotheechlamett]

MEET THE PARENTS

WARNINGS: highly graphic smut as always, I am too lazy to go into specifics, slight exhibitionism.

————————————-

"Baby you almost ready?" I call out from the bedroom— pushing earrings through my ears, smoothing out my shirt.

Timmy is finally meeting my parents after a year of dating. Any other time we've planned this something goes wrong, whether it's filming, my work schedule, or my parents not being available, by pure luck nothing stood in our way today.

"I'm waiting on you my lady." He sings out leaning against the door frame. I grab my bag and we head out the front door.

- "Do you think they'll like me?" He questions.

"I don't see how they couldn't like you baby, they'll love you. Just like me." I comfort him running my thumb across his hand. A short time later we arrive at my parents house, Timmy was visibly nervous at this point.

"Okay breathe in-" I use my hands to speak as he inhales deeply, "And we breathe out." I push the air from my lungs with him giving a smile.

We exit the vehicle and he grabs my hand, I knock on the door.

"Welcome! I just put dinner on it shouldn't be too long." My mother answers the door as she brings us both into a hug, "Your father should be back any minute, I sent him to the market for wine!" She sends me a look knowing a slight buzz would be needed tonight.

We make our way into the house, crowding around the island in the kitchen sipping Rosé, talking about everything and nothing at the same time- not too long after my father arrives.

"So you must be Timothée." He states plainly, harshly eyeing the boy.

"Yes sir, it's a pleasure to finally meet you both." Timmy puts on his best smile shaking my dad's hand.

Around then dinner had finished and we were all sitting at the table. Me and Timmy sat across from my parents, wine glasses filled to the brim. We all make small talk for a while, contently munching on the food before my father speaks up.

"As you know I have high standards for y/n, Timothée, tell me what makes you good enough for my little girl?" He gives Tim a daring look, almost as if he was really trying to intimidate him. Timmy gulps a little.

"Honestly, I don't know what makes me good enough for y/n sir. She is perfect in every aspect and the fact I get the chance to be with her, is beyond me. She deserves the world and more but I plan on trying my hardest to make that happen." He glances over at me with a smile.

"Do you see yourself marrying my daughter? Having children with her? You both aren't getting any younger, we have a large family and I expect that to continue on with younger generations." My father takes a sip of his wine, still staring Timmy down.

I could tell Timothée was getting flustered, his cheeks a rosy tint.

"Dad, please stop. You're embarrassing me, why can't we just ea-" I groan rolling my eyes as my father holds a hand up to silence my talking.

"Let the boy answer, he has a mouth of his own." That he does, his soft, gentle mouth.

"Absolutely I plan on making her my wife, of course with your blessing. I can't see myself with anyone other than her, I don't want to." He answers confidently, now chugging his glass.

I slip my hand under the table rubbing his leg, my fingers occasionally brushing too far up his thigh. I couldn't help but let my core buzz at how he was handling my dad, I wanted to take him right then and there. Timmy gave me a side glance as a warning but did I listen? Fuck no.

I start grazing the outline of his member with my fingertips, squeezing ever so gently along the way. He clears his throat slightly dramatically, indicating my plan was in fact getting to him.

He and my father are going back and forth, Timmy having a better answer for what my dad questions him. I squeeze his semi-hard cock, looking directly at him. He clears his throat again, this time letting a slight groan out from my toying with him. -

Dinner comes to an end as we say our goodbyes to my parents, almost sprinting out of the door back to the car.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He looks bewildered in the driver's seat.

"Whatever are you talking about?" I say innocently- a smirk playing on my lips.

"Do you know how much shit we could've got in?" He now looks flustered all over again. I started to feel bad, I didn't mean for him to become so worrisome about being caught.

"Baby I'm sorry, I didn't know it would effect you like that, I didn't mean to make you upset my love." I cup his cheek running my thumb over it.

"Its fine, I was just really nervous. That man scares me." He chuckles out putting the car into drive.

As we're on the road I think about Timmy ravishing me, my hot center definitely steaming at this point, he's concentrated on the road. I kick my sandals off and rest both my feet on the dash, legs slightly spread. It didn't catch his attention.

I lift my skirt revealing my thong, legs spread further apart now as I begin to rub the bundle of nerves above my opening. He glances at me a few times.

"W-what are you doing?" He questions, I stare at him continuing to rub my clit outside my panties, I let a moan out biting my bottom lip.

He bites his lip stealing glances at me when he could, I slip a finger inside of myself.

"Tim-" I moan out gripping the headrest with my free hand.

Spreading my legs further so he could see my actions, I wiggle my fingers inside my wet heat, squishing noises leaving the small hole. I kept thinking about Timothée doing it to me.

"Fuck Timmy you feel so good." I huff slipping another finger inside, rubbing my clit now with my other hand.

He would've watched more intently if he wasn't at the wheel. I throw my head back moaning his name as I feel myself reaching the highest peak.

"Oh my god-Timothée I'm gonna c-" He pulls my hands from my body.

"You're not doing that unless I make you." He growls out, a very obvious bulge in his pants alongside a wet patch.

He enjoyed this as much as me. I bit my lip once more and soon enough we pull up at our complex. Hurrying inside- he pushes me up against the door kissing me forcefully, licking my bottom lip and I quickly gain him entry. He kisses down my neck and sucks harshly on my sweet spot.

"You have no idea how lucky I am to have you." He puts a hand on my cheek, centimeters away from my face, "You're so god damn beautiful y/n." He swipes his thumb across my lips.

I pull his neck towards me crashing my lips on his, aching for more.

"I need you, please." I moan out, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck.

His eyes boring into mine, his forehead comes onto mine.

"I'll give you anything you want baby." He whispers closing his eyes.

We make our way to the bedroom, undressing each other along the way. Both of us left in just underwear, he kneads at my chest, pinching and massaging my nipples- he brings his head down replacing his fingers with his mouth. I grip the back of his head keeping him close to me, his hand travels down my stomach to my aching heat.

He lays me down on the bed and rubs against my clit. Pulling my underwear to the side, he slips a finger in, moving in and out. I gasp at the feeling, pure ecstasy coursing through my body.

"You like that?" He slips another finger in now hooking them upwards hitting my g-spot, I grip his shoulders, a moaning mess.

"Fuck don't stop baby." I moan loudly arching my back at his movements, he brings his tongue down to my clit- kitten licking, sucking and nibbling at my bud.

My walls close in on his fingers, my stomach burning with arousal I start to breathe heavily, moaning out his name as I let my juices flow out onto his face. He licks me clean, kissing my inner thigh afterwards.

"Tell me how bad you need me." His body hovering over me, he's desperate for it.

"I need you so bad Timothée-" I caress him, "I need you inside of me baby, please." I whine.

He lays gently kisses on my lips, lining himself up with my entrance and pushing himself in slowly. I take in a deep breath at the feeling.

"F-fuck." I groan, he gently pumps in and out making me feel his full length.

"God you feel so good." He moans deeply, holding me closely as he thrusts harder and faster.

I'm practically screaming his name as he fucks me like this, each entry deeper than the last as he finally hits my sweet spot.

"You're gonna make me cum T, FUCK!" You whimper to him.

"Right there? God you're so wet." He thrusts harder.

He has never made love to me like this. So loving and careful, tentative to my pleasure only. I feel my walls tighten around him, his hips moving sloppily now.

"Are you gonna cum for me? Be good for me baby-" His moans now out of breath, he's close.

"God I love you so much y/n." He whines in my ear, sending me over the edge as I reach my second climax.

His last thrusts are fatigued as he fills me with his hot, sticky liquid- whispering I love you's into my skin, kissing all over.

"You are so perfect, I want you forever y/n. You're all I'll ever need in life, you complete me." He looks into your eyes fully meaning every word, tears forming in yours.

"I love you so much Timothée, more than you'll ever know. I'm yours forever." You choke back.

Nothing but love left over from the events that had taken place.

[cardanloveclub]

Read and weed?

Kyle scheible

"Weed and read?" You were walking home from school with Kyle, planning to go to your house for and an hour or so, then to his for the rest of the night. Your parents didn't mind because they knew if you weren't home, you were at Kyle's. Usually. Sometimes you'd both go out either on just both of you, or to meet people. Parties were a different story but again, if you let your parents know they didn't mind much. "There's so fucking way I can do it in that order dude, I probably couldn't even see anything after doing that stuff you have." You told him, he nodded, walking right beside you but not so close that you were touching.

In private the boy could never leave your side, always touching you in some way, whether holding hands, lying on top or next to each other, Kyle couldn't help it. The lack of attention from his parents must be some reason for it but neither of you often thought about it. In public he didn't show much affection at all, to be honest you didn't know whether anyone really even knew you were together. Aside from eachother there wasn't really any more company each of you had.

Despite not showing affection in public, you were always together, constantly avoiding being alone.

You'd both gotten to your house to pick up food and drinks to bring over to his. After spending around half an hour up in your room, mainly watching TV from your bed and listening to music, you both decided to get an early leave from your house.

By the time you'd walked to his it was dark however school at finished at 4pm so at around 6pm now you both expected it to be dark.

None of you wasted any time taking your shoes off before heading upstairs and going into his room. Your were both on his bed now, grabbing the books you were both part way through and leaning up against eachother.

He had finished the book he was on before you had and he had made it difficult for you to read due to the time he'd spent playing with a few strands of your hair, twisting them around, complaining about how much of a slow reader you were. "It won't help me to read quicker if you keep complaining." From then it had seemed he kept his complaints at a minimum.

Once you had found a place to stop, he pulled out the boxes from under his bed that held what you were both smoking. Rolling them took less than five minutes so you could both get to smoking.

He always teased you about how it wasn't good to do meanwhile he was smoking at the same time, you always called him a hypocrite which let to him rambling and you kissing him to make him shut up. "I like that, you know." He said pulling your hair forward so he could kiss you too, but be more in control of what you were both doing.

Sometimes the night goes on to more than smoking or reading.

[quicksilversg1rl]

what you did was very baller, very anarchist

[eliochalametsstuff]

Kyle Scheible