#I still don’t feel comfortable with writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poisonf0rest · 1 day

Text

The Best Dreams Come in Threes

♱⋅── rafayel x reader x xavier

♱⋅── about: Rafayel and Xavier have always been there for you. One is your fire, your passion, the twin flame to your temper. The other is your light, a guiding beacon, your twin star. So when you have a nightmare, they take it upon themselves to comfort and remind you of their unconditional devotion. Even if it does lead to competition every now and then.

♱⋅── word count: 7.5k (mf...)

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, it's just nasty, threesome, jealousy, somnophilia, oral, pussydrunk boys, breeding kink, double penetration, slight spoilers

♱⋅── a/n: apologies to the two random strangers on the plane that I sat next to when the idea of this fic possessed me. I really, really hope you didn't read anything I was frantically writing down in the midst of me finishing my work report cause that shit was nasty.

art credit and inspiration due to the wonderful @/sakimenz

Lonely star, who do you shine for?

The weight of all your pasts- of all your futures- the guilt and pride you carry will only cause you to collapse, and all that will be left will be an all-consuming black hole.

Your desperation won’t bring your sun back.

Lonely king, don’t you know a kingdom devoid of life is a crown devoid of purpose?

You were the fire that left them, and all you have to show for the betrayal is a drowned memory and a heart wrenched from your chest, a broken promise and a forgotten story.

You’ve changed with each lifetime, but you’ll forever be at the mercy of fate.

And you? You’re the very curse that haunts them.

Claws, so cold they burn, emerge from the darkness before piercing through flesh, tearing through muscle and bone as they dig into your ribcage, dragging you down into the shadows. Drowning, falling. You’re spiraling through lifetimes of failure, lifetimes of pain both your own and not, all while the claws dig closer and closer to your heart, clutching the muscle like a songbird in a cage.

It’s the price, the price you must pay for all this pain you’ve caused, for dooming a star and killing a god.

The clawed hand wraps around your heart, the piercing into the fluttering pulse faster and faster until—

You wake up crying.

A hot trail of tears slides into the pillows, and a sniffle rakes through your body, the sudden movement causing a subtle disturbance to the two forms still sound asleep on either side of you.

Funny, you can’t remember a thing, but there’s a painful throb in your chest. You’ll take another dose of your heart medicine in the morning.

But for now, your bedroom is still dulled by the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains, and you’re in no hurry to get out of the warm covers and their embrace.

The nightmares have become routine at this point. You never remember what they are, but you wake up with a sense of fear and dread, as though you can feel the pain all over again. It’s best not to think too much about it.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you inhale shakily one last time, trying to shake off the looming feeling when the arm around your waist shifts, tugging lightly at your loose sleep shirt before slipping under to massage the skin beneath. You let out a soft sigh, a light shudder going through your body as the gentle hands work away the tension.

“The same?” Rafayel’s words are slurred with sleep and concern, hot breath dancing along the crook of your neck as he props himself up on his elbow. You nod.

Rafayel makes a small, displeased noise before his other arm pulls you closer, his bare chest now flush against your back. The sudden movement forces Xavier, who was once tucked against your shoulder, further away, grumbling at the loss even in his sleep.

His face scrunches, brows furrowed together before the corners of his lips turn downward, and he blindly reaches for you. He eventually finds the curve of your waist, and his hand tightens on the fabric of your shirt as it slides in above Rafayel’s.

A huff, and Xavier buries his face back into your chest, his warm breath tickling you. And then, gentle snores— you should've known better than to think that would be enough to wake him.

Rafayel, still pressed firmly against your back, begins to move, propping his body up just enough to look you in the eyes as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. "Wanna talk about it, cutie?"

“I… I think you were there, both of you. But it felt lonely, painful.”

Rafayel's face contorts into a worried expression, his hand moves down your cheek, cupping your jaw, and you lean into his warm caress with a sigh.

You place a kiss on his palm. "It's okay, just a scary dream. Nothing real. Nothing to worry about." You repeat it, more to yourself than Rafayel, but his arms wrap around you anyway.

And yet Rafayel looks at you with a deep furrow in his brow, a seriousness you’ve almost never seen on him.

You give him a questioning look, but his lips press to yours in a searing kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. He pulls away only for a second, whispering sweet nothings against your skin before returning his lips to yours, the hand cradling your face slipping down to rest on your hip.

He kisses you softly, gently. First pressing a trail of light, chaste kisses along your jaw, the corners of your mouth, and nose, then moving back to your lips. “We’ll never leave you. We’d tear through every universe, every destiny to get back to you.”

Strange, how Rafayel says it with all the reverence of a vow.

You want to tease him for the sudden declaration, for making all this fuss over a stupid dream, but you never have the opportunity, not when Rafayel's signature smirk settles back onto his lips.

His hand slides down to your thighs, fingers teasing around the band of your sleep shorts, toying, pressing, but never crossing the self-imposed boundary of your clothes. “Unless, you’d prefer it if I proved it to you?”

“Rafayel,” you warn, hoping your narrowed glare would dissuade him.

Of course the man only seems to take that as a challenge, smile widening as you flinch at the cold touch creeping under your shirt. One palm traces up your ribcage, long, nimble fingers rubbing circles against your skin until he brushes the underside of your breast.

You shudder, hissing out another string of curses before turning around so your back is to Rafayel.

Really, you should know better than to think that alone would be enough, and a hot trail of kisses now joins his wandering hands down your shoulder blade. They start innocent enough, sweet, lingering touches along the hem of your shirt, but that quickly changes when Rafayel’s arm under your shirt practically yanks it up, sucking wet, messy kisses into the bare curves of your chest.

Each nip against your sensitive flesh forces the possibility of sleep further and further away, and you resort to distracting yourself with the motionless silhouette of Xavier. Petting through his hair, your rhythm is jolted every time Rafayel decides to leave a mark, nails pulling through Xavier’s locks as you bite your lip on a moan.

You don't miss the curve of his smirk against your skin, and the next kiss is accompanied by a bite, hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp that stirs Xavier. Tense, you scan the blonde's face, but he's nothing if not a heavy sleeper, and he nuzzles further into your touch, still unconscious as his head tucks under yours.

You don't get to sigh in relief. Instead, a whine builds in your throat, the wet heat of Rafayel's teeth tugging on the strap of your underwear as he fists your sleep shorts down.

"Rafayel, stop it,” you hiss as his hot breath hits the already embarrassingly damp center of your underwear.

His smile grows, lips brushing against your clothed core as he tilts his head. “Hmm? But you don’t sound like you want me to stop. And she certainly doesn’t sound like it either.” Two fingers dip under the band, and he parts your cunt with a lewd click.

Your face flushes in embarrassment, refusing to acknowledge just how easily your body gives in to them. One hand leaves Xavier, roughly fisting into Rafayel’s curls as he groans from the sharp pressure. “That’s because you and Xavier refused to wear protection!”

The accusation earns a hushed laugh, his shoulders shaking against the insides of your thighs. It would have been innocent, the same contagious sort of smile gracing Rafayel’s face, if not the shadows cast across his face in the dark, teeth gleaming like fangs as he traces his tongue up the entire length of your clothed cunt.

"M’sorry, we thought you'd enjoy the mess," he says, words muffled over your thighs, nose practically buried in between. "How can I make it up to you, cutie?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, not when Rafayel’s tongue dives into your clothed cunt, moaning against the soaked fabric as you gasp and force him closer by his hair. To muffle his sounds, you tell yourself. A pathetic lie considering how much louder he gets now, nose grinding up against your clit as his tongue tries to press into your fluttering cunt even with the barrier of cloth in between.

God, he’s addicted, and it doesn’t take long until Rafayel’s spit and your slick soak through your underwear, the near-translucent fabric sticking to your lips as the bare minimum friction nearly drives you insane.

“Say it,” Rafayel whines, nuzzling his face against your inner thigh. “Please, just tell me how badly you want me. Tell me, and I’ll do anything you ask.”

Like he wouldn’t already.

But how could you ever deny him when he begs so sweetly?

Your palm cups his face, watching his near-wrecked expression and flushed skin tremble beneath your fingers. “I’m yours, Rafayel.”

And the fabric is ripped into pieces.

Refusing to even breathe, Rafayel places an opened-mouth kiss on your cunt, lapping up your slick with the most satisfied moan. He doesn't waste any time, not while your confession coated his mind with the sweetest type of intoxication, eating you out like he was depraved.

He might as well have been with how he moans, hips grinding desperately against the edge of the mattress, his not-entirely human tongue curling in and out of you as it writhes with terrifying accuracy against your walls.

It feels too good to be ashamed of the noises you make, gasping and crying out until you slam your palm over your mouth, biting down hard as the other claws into Rafayel’s hair. You can barely control yourself, half fighting to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure, half rocking your hips up and down his face as you jerk him closer.

“Mhm, greedy.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat before his words are muffled into your cunt, not baring to part for even a breath. “Pull on it, please. Harder.”

You tug Rafayel’s hair almost in vengeance when he purposefully kisses away from where you need him most, licking and sucking obscenely into your thighs just to hear your frustrated cries even over your hand.

He loved being used like this, so long as it was you.

So long as it was him that turned you into such a beautiful, pathetic mess.

It's not long until Rafayel pulls you close to the edge, nose pressing against your clit while thrusting his tongue into you, eyes rolling back from the taste and from the thought of your tight heat fluttering around his cock instead.

And then, he stops, pulling away and leaving you gasping into the tear-stained pillow.

You bite back a sob, releasing only a choked little noise that has Rafayel's eyes flicking up to your face, the soft, concerned look in his eyes melting into something far more dangerous.

With viciously dilated pupils and your slick dripping from his mouth, Rafayel stares you down as every inch the dangerous siren the legends claimed him to be. He smiles, tongue raking over his teeth as though he couldn’t get enough of your taste, and you swear you’d let him eat your heart and soul. Gods, you’d let him eat you whole.

You realize you must have made a sound, because Rafayel hushes you, pressing quick kisses to your knee. "Aw, what happened to being quiet? Aren't you afraid we'll wake the poor sleeping bunny?"

At the mention of your other partner, you turn to where Xavier’s nuzzling his face further into your side, each warm breath damp against your feverish skin, still lost to the realm of dreams.

Not that Rafayel allows your attention to turn away from himself for too long.

He leans over Xavier, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight cupping your face, and his lips are crashing into yours with all the viciousness of a summer seastorm. Your lips part, and Rafeyel fucks his tongue into your mouth the same he did your pussy, wet and desperate, the taste of yourself enough to make you dizzy.

"Tell me,” Rafayel’s tone dips into something darker, kissing down your throat and stomach as he eyes Xavier. “Who’s the better lover?"

Xavier's fingers flex, the tips brushing against the curve of your breast as he sleeps, and Rafayel's smile is almost predatory.

"D-don't ask stupid questions you dumb fish," your voice cracks as Rafayel's mouth ghosts over your cunt, teeth bared to your thigh, threatening to bite. "I chose you both."

The confession, as expected, doesn't please him. If anything, he seems overly offended, pouting and huffing a cold breath of air right against your aching core. The chill makes you squirm, trying to force him back to your center with the grip you have on his hair.

"No. Nope. That's not an answer."

"Raf–"

His name breaks off in a moan, sound ripped from your throat as Rafayel's thumb starts rubbing firm circles around your neglected clit. He doesn't relent, the pressure too much, too quick, your body already trembling from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to torture you with.

Only, it seems that all your sudden noise and movement have finally begun to affect Xavier. Not enough to wake him, but enough that you can hear his breathing become heavier, following your every twitch and buck from Rafayel’s onslaught as his body begins to grind into yours.

Mumbling into your neck, Xavier’s hand tightens around your waist before slipping under your shirt to palm your breasts, squeezing and kneading until the touch has you keening.

Xavier's still fast asleep, nonsensical words slurred against your skin, and yet his body is now far from it. His erection is thick and heavy against your hips, grinding desperately into your warmth almost in time to Rafayel’s ministrations, whimpering under his breath with every forceful thrust.

Rafayel notices too, his gaze drifting up to the blond. You can't see his face, already busied between your legs once more, but a pleased hum vibrates through his entire body, fingers finally slipping into your cunt as he curls them just right, your back arching off the sheets with a silent scream.

Xavier whines at your sudden thrashing, tugging you closer and unknowingly forcing you immobile and at complete mercy to Rafayel’s unfairly skilled fingers. "Mhm, so warm. Please, m’want to..." Another needy, slow grind against you follows his sleepy request.

"Rafayel," you choke out a muffled plea, but his eyes only narrow, taking a breath as his free hand grabs at Xavier's ass, the touch just light enough to tease and make him rut harder against you.

"What is it, cutie? Don't pretend like you don't want more, not when your pretty pussy's drooling for his cock. She’s so needy, am I not enough?”

Rafayel rests his head on the inside of your thigh, fingers thrusting roughly into that sweet spongy spot inside you just as his other hand wraps around the base of Xavier's cock through his boxers, thumbing over the pre-cum staining the dark fabric.

You're forced to bite down on the pillow beneath your head to stop the desperate cry tearing itself out of your throat. "This isn’t- ah- isn’t right."

"Isn't it? You’re dripping and the little bunny’s still asleep, yet look how desperate he is, rutting against you." Rafayel's voice dips, a raspy edge from his throat still fucking into you making it even more sinful, slurping everything you give him around his fingers before it drips down his wrist and into a puddle below. A huff, “I should get rewarded with how much effort I’m putting in.”

You cry out, legs trembling as his thumb begins its relentless attack on your clit, tracing mindless circles just random enough to keep you on edge. You're close, and Rafayel can feel it.

Xavier isn’t faring much better, whimpering a string of incoherent pleas into the crook of your neck as his hips keep rocking into the fist around him. He doesn't take his mouth away from the skin of your shoulder, biting down on it as he cums, shuddering and whimpering as the mess splatters down Rafayel's knuckles and onto your thighs.

“You’re next. If you won’t be honest with me, I’ll make your body is.” Rafayel’s taunt is the last coherent thing you remember before you come. Hard. His words ring against your skull as his fingers pump into you faster, and the pressure against your clit becomes almost unbearable, and you're falling apart, crying and thrashing, the only thing keeping you grounded is the feeling of Rafayel's weight and the scent of Xavier's strawberry shampoo, and then—

Rafayel finally shuts up to let you ride his face through your high, letting you use him as your thighs lock around his head, grinding desperately as though he were no more than a toy. No chance of breathing, no chance of escape.

Not that he could care less, not as long as he could keep his lips around your gushing cunt, humming and sucking into your release as cum sprays over his tongue and down his chin. Gods, he could never get enough of this.

You're still shaking through your orgasm, pliant and stupid from the dizzying pleasure, that you don't notice the rustle of sheets until a second pair of hands slide down your thighs.

"You’re doing this without me?"

Xavier’s voice is a whisper, husky from sleep and his orgasm as he presses a kiss right below your ear, fingers squeezing rougher against your breasts.

"S-sorry. Didn't want to wake you," you try, biting back a gasp when his thumb flicks over a nipple. Rough. Mean.

Rafayel snorts. "I think it's a bit too late for that.” A glare at Xavier over your leg, showing off your cum still dripping from his lips and fingers. ”Besides, I didn't need you."

You want to argue, really, but then Xavier is grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging just hard enough to push your head back, coaxing a moan from your throat as he marks down your neck with kisses intending to bruise. He’s pouting, grabbing your jaw as he forces your gaze away from Rafayel, nipping your bottom lip until you surrender to his drowsy advances.

“Why…” Another kiss before Xavier's licking desperately into your mouth, “Why didn't you wake me?"

The question comes out a little breathless, almost petulant, eyes hooded and dark as he looks over the mess Rafayel has made of you. He can't tear his eyes away, watching Rafayel even as he kisses you. His fingers flick over your nipple again, twisting and pinching until you're shaking, your thighs squeezing Rafayel's face, all while Xavier watches.

Said man only smiles, all smug arrogance. "Didn't you hear her, Xav? She said she didn't want to wake you, so don't blame me."

Rafayel drags a wet, open-mouthed kiss over your cunt, the overstimulation making you break the kiss with a gasp.

"Liar." Xavier's voice trembles, and you can't tell if he's referring to Rafayel's words, or the way he's staring longingly at Rafayel's lips now, still slick with your release. "You just wanted her all to yourself."

He doesn't bother giving Rafayel a chance to retort, taking the punishment out on you as he dips his head underneath your folded-up shirt, groaning as his hot tongue rolls over your nipple, sucking at the stiff peak as his hand continues to assault the other. The onslaught has you whimpering, pushing and clawing against Xavier’s shoulder to try and fight him off as he refuses to let go for even a moment.

Rafayel's not one to be ignored, not when he has the advantage, and his tongue is back to fucking into your cunt with no reprieve, a cruel smirk on his face as you writhe and beg for their mercy.

Your hips roll, torn between pleasure and oversensitivity, unable to escape either of the men. It's overwhelming. Too much, too quickly, you only just came and you're already getting dragged back.

"Ah! Stop, I'm already mhm—"

You're interrupted by Xavier's tongue slipping into your mouth, a filthy, lazy slide that makes you grind up into Rafayel's tongue. It's like he doesn't even need to breathe, the wet, sloppy sounds of him eating you out drowned out only by the sound of Xavier kissing you senseless, pausing just to nip and suck at your breasts as though he'll get rewarded if he just tries hard enough.

"You want him to stop? Is the mermaid not enough to satisfy you, princess?" Xavier taunts, lips brushing against your ear as his hips push up, grinding his cock against your thigh. "If that's the case, perhaps we should switch. I can give you exactly what you want, remember?"

“Shut up, I’m the one making her cum.”

“Only cause I wasn’t awake yet.”

“You snooze, you lose. Whose fault is that? Oh ya, yours.”

They're at each other's throats yet again, practically clawing and snapping at each other, and you're helpless to try and intervene when they take their faux anger out on your poor abused body.

You can't think, can't focus, can't do anything but shake and pant and sob into the pillow, their combined weight on top of you, forcing your pleasure higher and higher.

“Xav—" He cuts you off with a kiss.

“Shh, just take it."

You can't even tell who’s sloppier anymore- Xavier fucking your mouth with his tongue or Rafayel still eating you through your second orgasm, the sudden hit of it thundering down your body.

“You look so pretty when you come," Xavier moans into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, hand coming up to stroke your cheek as he watches you, a sharp contrast to the other still rolling against your swollen nipple, loving the way you jerk into his touch. Then a glare to the man below. "My turn.”

Your body is still trembling, Rafayel's merciless fingers not allowing you to come down from your high, aftershocks of hypersensitivity crashing down your spine as every muscle spasms. No more. No more, please. You can’t possibly come again.

You don't realize you’re begging out loud, not until Xavier shushes you with another bruising kiss.

But it doesn't seem like Rafayel has any plans on stopping, not until Xavier’s hand skims down your thighs and yanks him up by the chain of his necklace.

Rafayel growls as he's practically forced off your weeping cunt, eyes bleary and unfocused as he fights the blond's grip. And god, he looks absolutely wrecked, spit and cum dripping from his mouth and chin, connecting his lips to your pussy in sticky wet strands before they break, and you feel the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining against his soaked boxers.

Xavier yanks him forward, pulling the necklace chain until he crashes his lips onto Rafayel's, all teeth and tongue, desperate to get a taste of your cum from his mouth. It's filthy, and Rafayel is the first to give in, still drunk off your taste and now Xavier's too.

"Mhm, you taste like her," Xavier whispers, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together, his mouth still moving against Rafayel's swollen, parted lips.

"Ya?" Rafayel’s grin is predatory, all fang and sin. "You wanna try too, don’t you? Give in then, bunny, lie down for us.”

"I don't take orders from you."

Xavier scowls against Rafayel's lips, but you can feel his resolve breaking, his arm trembling where it rests against your thigh.

"No, you take them from her, and she asked us so, so nicely to make her come. You wouldn't dare deny her that, would you?”

The Lemurian is nothing if not dangerously persistent, one hand coaxing Xavier backward so gently you don’t think he realizes how easily he’s falling, the other clawing down his abs as Rafayel bites against the erratic thud of Xavier’s pulse. Sharp and bruising, a silent promise for what to come. "Or do you wanna eat her out like I did? Have her ride your face while I fuck into her poor, desperate cunt? I can't decide, there are so many options."

“No.” It’s more a plea than a demand. Xavier's voice shakes with need, and you watch, dizzy and panting, as Rafayel's fingers slip underneath the waistband of Xavier's boxers. His fingers, still dripping with your cum, brush down the length of his cock, thumb circling the sensitive head and smearing the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from it. “You had y-your turn.”

He can hardly finish his objection, not when Rafayel’s thumb comes up to abuse his leaking slit, Xavier’s words slurring into a desperate whine as he practically collapses back onto his elbows. Immediately, Rafayel is atop him.

"A competition, then." Rafayel leans down to whisper into Xavier's ear, but the words are purposefully teased out loud enough for you to hear, “But you lose if you cum first, and I get to fuck her.”

It's a low blow, a challenge he knows Xavier can't turn down.

A challenge that somehow has you poised once again as the torment and the reward.

And it's true, because the second the words register, the blond's eyes shoot open, and his cock jerks violently against Rafeyel’s palm, a broken sound leaving his lips as his eyes lock back onto yours with all the promise of a starving hunter.

"Deal.”

Xavier doesn't allow the agreement to go without a price. Something snaps, the bedroom flickering with a sudden darkness as all the light vanishes.

One moment, you’re lying against the bed, and the next Xavier manhandles you to your knees, one hand forcing your arms behind your back as he tugs you against him, the other pinning Rafayel to the mattress.

Rafayel’s the very picture of smug sin, the feral expression far more genuine, less threatening and much more amused as he nestles further into the pillows, one arm tucked lazily behind his head.

Cold fingers dance up your hips, and Rafayel drags your bare cunt over his thighs and onto his lap, a pleased sigh escaping his lips as you're pinned deliciously between his cock and Xavier's sculpted back.

"So needy, little bunny."

"Shut up. I'm not the one who's leaking."

Rafayel snorts, and before the two can start fighting again, you're leaning forward, a hand resting against Rafayel's abs as you cup his erection through his boxers. And when he moans you believe every myth, every fairytale singing the doom of sailors to a siren song, because every sound he gives you is addictive and sweet enough that you’d drown to hear it again.

Pulling Rafayel's cock out from his boxers, you’re stunned yet again by the slightly non-human beauty of it, heavy and thick in your palm, the flushed, ruddy tip already drooling precum as you thumb at it in vengeance. You know Xavier's watching from the way his own cock twitches against your back, hands digging bruises into your hips. Then, the warmth at your back disappears.

Instead, a pair of hands drag your ass up, forcing you into a deep arch as you scramble for purchase against Rafayel’s thigh and the bed below.

“Closer.” Xavier’s hand laces into your hair as he pushes your head down, forcing your mouth to nuzzle against the base of Rafayel's cock.

The movement pulls a gasp from both of you, your hot breath teasing the sensitive skin of Rafayel's shaft and forcing a shudder from his entire body.

Seeing the two of you completely at his mercy does terrible, horrible things to Xavier, and his fingers dig bruises into your hips as it takes him everything not to forgo the competition and fuck you right there.

"Good girl,” he hums, voice trembling as his grip tightens against your hair, giving you a harsh glare when you whine and squirm in his hold. "Now open."

You can't bring yourself to say no, not when the sight of Rafayel's eyes rolling back the second you do makes your stomach clench. His cock twitches against you as you lick at the copious amounts of cum leaking from his tip, then obediently wrap your lips around him.

With a smile that would have you shaking, Xavier leans down, barely able to continue guiding your head as he’s entranced with the mess between your legs, licking up the slick dripping down your thighs as he sucks against the delicate flesh, marking right over the sensitive bruises Rafayel had only just left behind.

“This- hah-” Rafayel curses under his breath, the single word breaking off into a moan, the sound muffled by his palm as his chest heaves. “This is hardly fair.”

But his complaints feel half-hearted, not with the way he’s already rutting into your mouth, Xavier’s iron grip keeping you in place as Rafayel thrusts himself into your mouth in one breath. You yield pathetically quick, flattening your tongue against the slick underside of his cock, another stream of pre-cum flooding your mouth as you nearly choke on it all, unable to pull off to even take a breath as Xavier guides your head up and down in a steady rhythm that has Rafayel falling apart.

It’s cruel, but you can't help each pathetic moan that gets muffed onto Rafayel’s cock, the vibrations forcing his back to arch off the bed, head rolling back as it thuds against the pillows, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps in shallow breaths.

You almost wish he would let you see his eyes, but then you'd miss the view of his chest, every muscle tight and twitching under his skin, the mesmerizing sight now blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You can't resist reaching up, dragging your nails down his abs, watching his body jerk against every new line of red.

"Please,” you're not sure if the broken whimper belonged to Rafayel or yourself. “Please, I can't wait anymore, wanna feel you— fuck— wanna fill you up again, please let me cum." It's like just the very thought has Rafayel keening, his hips jerking up into your hot mouth with reckless abandon as Xavier forces your spine up into a deeper arch.

You're nearly bent in half, the new angle leaving no part of you hidden from Xavier's hungry gaze as he watches you practically drool over Rafayel’s cock, lips meeting his pelvis as he breaches your throat.

Xavier’s going to win. He needs to win.

The thought makes him frantic, tongue fucking past the tight resistance of your cunt, his hand sliding up to tease at your clit. He won't be the one to finish first, not this time. Not when he's wanted nothing more than to feel your cunt gushing around him ever since Rafayel woke him up, ever since the two of you had the audacity to start this without him.

Rafayel can’t last much longer, especially not when you bring one shaking hand down to massage his swollen balls, hardly in control of your own movements as you feel dizzy on the addictive combination from the lack of oxygen and pleasure as Xavier begins to eat you out like a man starved.

The room’s filled with the sounds of each slick, messy movement, whimpers from the man beneath you and breathless pleas from the one behind, bed rattling with every thrust.

And yet you’re still so painfully empty. So, so, empty as your cunt flutters around Xavier’s tongue before he relents to kiss your clit once more, dragging a dissatisfied whine from you as you fight yourself off Rafayel’s cock.

"F-fuck me. Please," A sob, and you feel both Rafayel and Xavier shudder. "It’s not enough. Want your cocks inside me, wanna cum on it. Need it, please-"

Oh, and when you beg like that, they should have known they never would have stood a chance.

"Shit."

"Ah, please-"

It's a blur. A rush of hands, of pleasure and pain, all of it colliding and dragging you to the edge. The room spins, the ceiling above you falling until the familiar, comforting feeling of slick muscle embraces you, grounding you as you focus on the erratic heartbeat between each ragged exhale.

You're still sandwiched between them, lying on Rafayel as Xavier's weight drapes across your back, head propped up on the former's chest as you stare blearily at his silver pendant, unable to move. You're not even sure if you can, not with the way Xavier's still gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading you open as he forces one leg higher up.

Then, the blunt head of his cock grinds between your folds.

Xavier’s pressing his forehead against your back, wrapping his arms around you before biting into the crook of your neck. "You mean it? You’ll let us come inside again?"

Rafayel laughs, a raspy sound still raw from his orgasm. "Well, we both lost. Now what, bunny? We can't just leave her like this, poor thing is trembling."

"Mhm,” Xavier forces you up, “We both fuck her then."

His words only make you whimper, body jerking uselessly against Xavier's grip. His hands lift you as Rafayel flips you around so you're now facing the blond, flinching violently as his cock brushes your swollen clit, any semblance of protest quelled as Xavier pulls you into another messy kiss.

It’s demanding, Xavier mumbling achingly sweet praises into your open mouth as he begins to press you down, faster, harsher, forcing you onto Rafayel’s lap in a reverse cowgirl as you slide down slowly, taking inch by inch of Rafayel’s throbbing cock. There’s hardly any blue left in Xavier’s blow-out pupils, too mesmerized by the slick mess you’re gushing down their thighs. And just when you begin to squirm, impatient and desperate, Xavier slows their pace even more.

"Shhh, we need to make sure you'll be able to take both of us."

Rafayel's hand is wrapped around your waist, thumb rubbing small circles into your stomach, and if it weren't for Xavier's arms locked around you, holding you upright, you would have collapsed the second Rafayel pressed into the spot his fingers had found.

"Look at you," he purrs, a low sound that has you gasping. "So pretty when you’re needy. Can you feel me?"

It's hard not to. Everywhere feels warm, and every slow thrust, no matter how gentle, has a small burst of ecstasy building in your stomach, a wave crashing higher and higher as the two of them slowly fuck you full. Just as you’re nearly seated all the way onto Rafayel’s length, Xavier’s palms come up to the back of your knees, folding them up and forcing you backward until you’re practically lying prone atop of Rafayel.

Your head lolls uselessly against Rafayel's neck, gasping at the force of the new position, and you're not sure if it's the tears in your eyes or the overwhelming pressure against your walls as they stretch around his cock that's making the world so blurry. Xavier soon follows you down, pressing you closer into Rafayel’s chest as his lips trail your jaw, your neck, your sucking against every sensitive spot behind your ears until you're distracted from the pain.

"You're doing so good, princess. Just a little more."

The sudden onslaught of pressure of both of you atop him has Rafayel flinching, and he hisses out a pained moan, hips jerking up into the slick heat of your pussy, and it's only Xavier's grip that keeps the two of you from slipping off.

"Hah- hurry up-" Rafayel's eyes are glassy, his head tipped back and face twisted in pleasure.

Strings of incoherent pleas are whispered against your ear, Rafayel marking up the left side of your neck while Xavier’s still busy with the right, that is, until Xavier switches sides, biting right over Rafayel’s marks until he’s pulled up into a desperate kiss.

The wet sounds of their lips are filthy and obscene, each hot breath and moan brushing past your ear as you writhe, pressed between them. Rafayel's cock is already swelling, twitching against the fluttering walls of your pussy, unwilling to fully pull out, settling to just grinding up in slow, cruel thrusts before something in him snaps and he switches to pounding against your abused walls.

Every time you think you’ll finally come Rafayel switches pace, the obscene slap of skin on skin muffled only by your sobs and their kissing.

You’re close, so so fucking close you feel your muscles begin to shake. Xavier only pushes you down further, every angle a new cruelty, smothering you between them, rendering you unable to do anything but take it.

Again, Rafayel slows, and you slur curses down at him as your thighs tremble from overstimulation, shaking violently until you feel something grab your calf. Xavier massages the quivering muscle, gentle until he’s suddenly pressing your knee higher and higher, going until it’s pinned to the mattress up against your head.

And now Rafayel is hitting impossibly deeper, abusing your poor g-spot with each thrust.

Xavier kisses your ankle, then calf, making his way up your leg until he can nip at your inner thighs now folded over his shoulder. And then you feel the pressure of his cock at your already full entrance. Xavier’s hand dips down between your bodies, trying to bully himself in alongside Rafayel, but his cock slides past your navel, slick and covered in your combined cum.

"No, no no, not gonna fit- ah- Xavier!"

Your words break off into a wail as he tries again, grinding closer so you’re tightly cradled between the two, Xavier leaning fully atop you both. A snarl grits through his jaw when his cock slips past again, readjusting you so your legs fall apart wider, the burn in your thighs turning delicious and overwhelming, pussy weeping around Rafayel’s cock as Xavier’s swollen, leaking head bumps against your clit.

Xavier watches the mess, every thrust and messy squirt of cum, brows furrowed and flushed a deep red, as he whines into your shoulder, "Please- can't stop- please let me fuck you too, you'll look so pretty with both of us filling you up, taking us so good- don’t make me stop."

He’s reduced to babbling against your neck, biting down hard enough to bleed when your cunt finally yields to him too, cockhead bumping into Rafayel’s as he slowly pushes in inch and inch, trembling from the combined pleasure of your walls and the violent throbbing of every vein now grinding together.

It's too much, it’s not enough, the stretch and the friction and the pressure leaving you fucked stupid, hands scrambling for purchase. Rafayel grunts when your nails drag across his thighs, his own hands coming to latch onto your wrists, pinning them above his head, forcing you motionless between them.

You can do nothing but sob, tears streaming down your face as your entire body convulses. And when they finally, finally bottom out together, the world goes white.

"Shh, you're alright," Rafayel soothes, although his voice is trembling, the sound broken as he tries to catch his breath. "Doing so well for us, cutie, so perfect."

Xavier growls, his hands grabbing the headboard. He's barely holding on, not with the way Rafayel's cock twitches against his own, your hot walls clenched tightly around the two of them as you beg.

"Please, can't- too much, more, I need-"

There's a broken sob, and then Xavier’s slamming his hips forward, fucking into you with a brutality he usually saves for Rafayel, the force sending the three of you rocking against the mattress, headboard splintering under the strength of his grip. The other leaves to thumb at your nipples, lips following suit as he rambles, drunk off your pussy, "These would look s'pretty filled, even more sensitive. Bet you'd let us milk you, fill you up even more."

"And here, you'll feel us here too, won't you?" A hand moves lower- whose you no longer are coherent enough to care- brushing over the swell of your abdomen, the slight bulge appearing and disappearing where both of them are thrusting violently into you. "Be a waste not to. Imagine it, a painted mess filled with us.”

And you are. You can't think about anything else, not with the way they're stuffing you full— every time Rafayel's cock would settle near your g-spot Xavier’s would ram back in, forcing the former up against your cervix before pulling out entirely, repeating the vicious rhythm as the pain bled into pleasure.

Tears stream down the side of your face, room spinning into dizziness until all that remains are the burning trails of their touch, the only things keeping you grounded.

Rafayel's sucking into your shoulder, biting the sweat-slicked flesh, and you can feel his hips begin to stutter underneath you, already reaching his high despite Xavier still pounding into you with the same intensity, desperate to catch up.

The moment Xavier feels Rafayel's release, it's over. Your back arches up against him, convulsing against their hold, your abused walls clenching down so tightly that you’re practically begging for them to come inside, sucking them in deeper and deeper until it’s impossible for them not to follow.

It's a violent orgasm, hot squirt of your cum drenching Xavier’s abs, the intensity of it causing Rafayel’s vision to white out too, unable to hear the desperate sounds of your moans, not when his blood is rushing past his ears.

Then, the world comes crashing back.

Rafayel’s panting, still thrusting weakly into the slick, tight heat as he emptied himself inside you, the sheer overload of it gushing down your legs and onto the sheets.

"Ah- Xavier," you whine, the sound muffled into his chest as Xavier continues to chase after his high, too lost in his late orgasm to pull out.

The overstimulation is torture, your body twitching and trembling with every sloppy thrust. The moment he finally pulls out, the mess follows, thick, white rivets leaking down your thighs, the sheer volume near damn concerning had you the capacity to focus on it.

Rafayel laughs, fingers swirling through the cum as though painting your thighs, "That's not going to be easy to clean up."

"S'gonna look pretty. Messy. Full." Xavier murmurs, still pinning the both of you beneath him as he collapses in exhaustion, fingers dancing over the small swell in your stomach. Pressing lightly, he watches in fascination as their mixed cum gushes out faster, and you whimper, gripping his wrists to stop before they get any more ideas.

You're not sure what's worse, the fact that they're both still hard and the way they're looking at you, or the fact that their words have your exhausted body already trying to recover, a shiver running through your sore muscles as the room's cool air brushes over the slick, sticky mess between your thighs.

"You're both so disgusting," you groan, the words coming out slurred and barely audible.

"You love it."

"Yeah," Xavier's agreement is soft and almost hesitant. "You love us."

"Yes, I love both of you. Now get the fuck off of me." A shove, your shaking arm barely affecting Xavier as he finally relents, a small smile on his lips as he rolls the three of you down into the bed, resting on your sides.

The muscles in your thighs scream in relief as they’re finally placed down, every inch of your body sore and marked up in one way or another, every visible bruise and bite getting pampered in faux apologies by the two men snuggling up next to you.

It’s a tangle of limbs, Xavier already claiming your chest again as he nuzzles into your breasts while Rafayel simply curls himself around your back. A hand there, an arm there, and a little more muffled bickering. Yet you all fit together, and sleep comes easy now.

And the nightmares never return.

#love and deepspace #rafayel x you x xavier #love and deepspace x reader #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #lnds rafayel #l&ds rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel smut #xavier smut #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #poisonwrites

418 notes · View notes

wandaslittlebird · 1 day

Text

Professor!Wanda Headcanons

I typically don’t write professor/student, but you’ll have to forgive me, I’m experiencing a moment of weakness.

Professor Maximoff was, by no means a well liked professor. Her class was infamously difficult, and most of her students found her cold.

You, however, grasp the subject matter surprisingly well. That never stopped you from coming by her office to “further your studies.”

She liked it when you came by, she told you. “It feels like I’m in here all the time. And no one comes to my office hours anyway. It gets a little dull in here with just me.”

Her office was simply decorated with only a single chair in the corner for students to sit, but as it started to become a regular hang out for you, a nice loveseat mysteriously appeared.

It got to the point where you were talking to her almost every day. You came in in between all your classes, lounging on her loveseat and getting some work done.

Whenever you complained of being hungry, or simply wanting a nice treat for yourself, she handed you her phone, open with DoorDash and her credit card information already loaded in.

She’s started to get very possessive of you. She sees how the other students and professors look at you. She just wants to keep you safe, she tells herself.

But whenever you have a one on one with another professor, she can’t help the way her body tenses and her blood pressure spikes. She’s always sure to stop by to inform you that after your meeting is over, she’s bought you your favorite lunch in her office. Better not wait too long. It’ll get cold.

She starts making comments when your clothes when your shirt collars hit too low and your jeans had too many rips. “I should dress code you, you know. You’re lucky I like you.” Over time, you amass a decent collection of very expensive blazers from the days you come in in something she deems too revealing.

In her office, however, you’re allowed to wear as little as you wish. Which is convenient because it’s starting to get very hot in there for some reason. She can stand the heat if it means getting to watch you do your work in an undershirt.

When she asks what you’re doing for the Thanksgiving holiday and you shrug and tell her nothing, she’s all too quick to jump on the opportunity. “You can come over to my place. It’ll just be me. We can make a turkey. Come on it’ll be fun.”

Thanksgiving break bleeds into Christmas break as well. And her guest room bleeds into her bedroom. Her bed is just so much more comfortable. And it’s a California king. The two of you are practically sleeping in different time zones.

Late one night, you hear her whisper “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

“Will you still come to my office? Next semester? Even though you won’t be in my class anymore?” She asks, almost anxiously.

“Of course,” you respond. “I really enjoy being around you. Even outside of you… being my professor and everything.”

She smiles, but you couldn’t see it so well in the dark. “Good,” she said. “That’s good. I like being around you as well.”

She inches towards you nervously, but you reassure her when you start to move towards her as well. She wraps her arms around you while you curl into her chest. And you fall asleep in her arms, for the first time.

#professor!wanda #professor Wanda #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n

333 notes · View notes

syluslnd · 2 days

Note

Hello I'm sorry if you're not taking requests. But please please if you are can you make the part 2 of Sylus as an online sugar daddy meeting with his sugar baby.

But please ignore it if you don't take requests and your writing is SOOO GOODD. Have a nice day!!

Sylus meeting with his online sugar baby

(note-you sent this a while back when I first started posting so I hope you’re still around lol I’m sorry for taking so long🤍)

Tags • virgin reader,sugar daddy sylus,verbal teasing,fingering,climaxing

5k word count (I got carried away sorry)

────୨ৎ────

Sylus himself couldn't even believe he was doing this. It wasn’t just a waste of time for him; he never thought he’d be the type to seek out a woman, especially in a place like this but something about you intrigued him in a way he couldn't ignore.

As he leaned against his sleek black car outside the arcade the neon lights flickered, illuminating the faces of the young couples and friends inside. He felt out of place the leader of Onychinus waiting in a childish venue a stark contrast to his usual world of power and control.

He glanced at his watch, the minutes stretching painfully. He was serious about this arrangement, after all. He had his reasons, practical ones—companionship, a distraction from the relentless pressure of his life. But he couldn't deny the thrill of meeting you, the allure of stepping into a world so different from his own.

The sound of laughter drew his attention, and then he saw you approaching. Your smile was bright, a refreshing contrast to the shadows that usually loomed around him. You looked confident almost carefree as you made your way toward him.

“Hi! sorry if I kept you waiting,” you said your voice light and cheerful,opposite of how he’s used to people greeting him.

“It’s fine,” Sylus replied, maintaining his serious demeanor. “I’m just getting used to this.”

“This?” you asked, gesturing around the arcade. “I get it,It’s not exactly your usual scene.”

He finally met your gaze, feeling a flicker of something unexpected—curiosity, perhaps. “I’m not here for the games sweetie”.

You smiled at his straightforwardness, your cheerful demeanor undeterred by his serious tone. “I figured,but the games are kind of fun! You should try one!”

Sylus raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unwilling to show it. “I doubt I’d find much enjoyment in... this.” He gestured around, feeling a mix of irritation and fascination at how different your world was.

You chuckled softly, the sound warming the chilly air between you. “You might be surprised,It’s nice to escape sometimes.” There was a glimmer in your eyes that caught him off guard.

“Escape?” he echoed, feeling the weight of his own reality settle back over him. “I’m not sure that’s possible for me.”

Your expression shifted slightly, the playful light dimming as you regarded him more seriously. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, his voice sharper than intended. He didn’t want to scare you away, but vulnerability was foreign territory for him.

You looked at him, studying his chiseled features and the tension that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” you said softly, as if sensing the walls he’d erected around himself.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” he replied, a hint of angst creeping into his tone. It was a reminder of the danger he lived in, the enemies lurking in shadows,never being able to be off guard . “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Your gaze remained steady, unwavering. “and yet here I am,Isn’t that the thrill of it? To step outside our comfort zones?”

“Thrill,” he muttered, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “More like recklessness.” But even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the instinct to protect you, to shield your brightness from his dark world.

You tilted your head, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “You’re so serious sylus,what are you afraid of?”

He hesitated, the weight of his duality pressing down. “That I’ll lose you, kitten.” The admission surprised even him. He didn’t know you well, yet there was something about you that ignited an urgency within him.

Your smile returned, softer now, disarming his cold demeanor. “I’m not going anywhere,not yet at least.”

For the first time, Sylus felt a crack in his armor. Perhaps this sugar daddy arrangement was about more than just companionship; it was a chance to explore a connection that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

As you took a step closer, he felt an instinctive need to draw you nearer, to keep you safe. “Let’s get out of here,” he said abruptly, surprising even himself with the sudden protective urge.

You blinked, a mix of confusion and excitement dancing across your face. “Where to?”

“Somewhere... away from all this.”

And with that, the tension shifted. Sylus realized he was no longer just a mafia boss seeking distraction; he was a man drawn to someone who could bring light into his otherwise shadowed existence.

As sylus drove you to the hotel, the tension in the car was palpable, a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The neon lights outside blurred by, but all he could focus on was the way you shifted in your seat, a nervous smile playing on your lips.

Once inside the hotel, he led you to a private suite, the door clicking shut behind you with a sense of finality. The room was elegantly furnished, dim lighting casting a warm glow. You looked around, your earlier cheerfulness tempered by a hint of shyness.

“What happened to the lively little kitten I met at the arcade?” Sylus teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “You seemed so confident, and now...”

You bit your lip, glancing at the floor. “I don’t know! It’s just… different, you know?”

“Different,how so kitten?” He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “You’re not worried about me, are you?”

“No, it’s not that” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. “It’s just... you’re a bit intimidating.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Intimidating? Sweetie, I promise I’m just a guy, a guy who’s curious about why you’re suddenly so shy.”

You took a breath, trying to regain some confidence. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be here, with you, like this.”

“Is that so?” He leaned against the edge of the bed, arms crossed, the teasing glint in his eyes intensifying. “I would’ve thought you’d be eager to explore every aspect of this arrangement.”

“Explore?” you echoed, feeling your cheeks heat.

“Yeah, you know,” he said, a playful smirk on his lips. “Try out all the fun things you can’t do over the phone .”

Your heart raced and you glanced away, flustered. “I—”

“Come on, kitten,” he coaxed, stepping closer again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you a little more innocent than you let on? Is that what this is about?”

You froze, your mind racing. “Um, well, I—”

“Are you a virgin, sweetie?” His words hung in the air, a teasing challenge that made you blush even deeper.

Your eyes widened, caught off guard. “I… maybe?” The admission slipped out before you could stop it, and you felt utterly exposed.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, that explains the shyness,but it’s cute,” he said, leaning in closer a playful glint in his eye. “I didn’t realize I was dealing with such an innocent little thing.”

You shifted your weight, heart pounding. “Stop it!” you protested, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “You’re making me feel like a kid!”

“Maybe you are,” he teased, his tone light but his gaze serious. “But don’t worry, kitten. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, a mix of excitement and nervousness washing over you. “You’re such a meanie!” you said, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably.

“I’m just having a little fun, sweetie,” he replied, his voice low and inviting. “You’re adorable when you blush like that. I could get used to this.”

The playful banter hung in the air, creating an electric atmosphere. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself slowly crumbling. “Maybe I’ll show you more of my personality if you promise to be nice,” you offered, your voice teasing back.

“Oh, I’ll be nice,” he promised, stepping back slightly to give you space. “But I can’t make any guarantees about being gentle.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the thrill that raced through you at his words. “I guess I’ll have to hold you to that.”

And in that moment, amidst the teasing and the laughter, something shifted between you, a connection deepening beneath the playful facade. Sylus felt a flicker of something he hadn’t anticipated—an urge to protect not just your innocence, but also to cherish the light you brought into his dark world.

Sylus moved towards you, the teasing smile on his lips fading just enough for his expression to darken, a serious intensity taking over. He crossed the room slowly, closing the space between the two of you, and before you could react, his hands were on your waist. With a firm but gentle grip, he lifted you effortlessly and plopped you onto the bed. The air left your lungs in a quiet gasp and for a moment, you were caught off guard by how swiftly he moved.

“Sweetie,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something lower, something that made the room feel smaller. His gaze locked on yours, the playfulness still there but laced with a seriousness that hadn’t been present before. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?”

You swallowed hard, the nervousness creeping back in as he loomed over you. “I… I think I do.”

He smirked, but there was something almost sad in it. “You think, huh?” His thumb brushed lightly against your waist as he knelt onto the bed, his hands still holding you in place. “Kitten, I’ve been playing this game for a long time. I know when someone’s out of their depth.”

The teasing edge in his tone made your heart race, but there was a weight behind his words that made you shift beneath him, uneasy but drawn in all the same.

“You’re a sweet little thing,” he said, his voice almost tender, though his words held a darker undertone. “Too sweet for someone like me. This isn’t like those playful messages online, sweetheart. I live in a world that’s... far from innocent.”

Your breath caught as his fingers trailed up your side, the motion almost soothing despite the tension in the air. “But you… you still want me here, don’t you?”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I want you, kitten. More than I should,but I worry about what happens if you stay in my world too long.”

You blinked, trying to steady yourself, your mind spinning. “What do you mean?”

Sylus pulled back slightly, his face hovering just inches from yours. The smirk returned, but his eyes were shadowed, conflicted. “You see, I’ve got my fun little games, but outside of this room? My life isn’t soft. It’s sharp edges and shadows..and you” he said, brushing a thumb over your cheek, “you’re too innocent,you don’t belong in that darkness.”

Your stomach tightened, the weight of his words sinking in. “I can handle it. I’m not a kid.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it this time. “You’re not a kid, but you’re pure, and I’m not.” His hand found its way to your chin, tilting your head so your eyes met his. “You think being my sugar baby is all fun and games. But in person? It’s different. You’re not just playing with me anymore, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire.”

Your pulse quickened as he shifted his weight, pinning you gently beneath him. “And what if I want to get burned?” you whispered, feeling bolder in the heat of the moment.

For a second, his expression softened, and his fingers threaded through your hair as he gazed down at you with a mix of affection and regret. “Careful what you wish for, sweetie,” he murmured. “I might just give it to you.”

Despite the teasing, there was an undeniable protectiveness in the way he spoke, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull you closer or keep you at arm’s length. It was as if he feared that pulling you too far into his world would extinguish the light you carried—something that had begun to matter to him in ways he wasn’t prepared to admit.

And in that moment, you realized Sylus wasn’t just worried about what he could do to you. He was worried about what his world could do to someone like you.

Sylus hovered above you, his eyes flickering between restraint and desire, that teasing smirk playing on his lips as if he was holding himself back. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric, his fingers still gently grazing your cheek. Despite all his playful words and sly smirks, you could see it—he was hesitating, his dark world swirling in his mind, wondering if pulling you closer would be a mistake.

For a moment, you bit your lip, considering what to do. But something inside you shifted. If Sylus wasn’t going to make the move, you would.

With a sudden burst of boldness, you reached up and cupped the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes widened in surprise, the smirk faltering just slightly as you pulled him closer, your lips hovering inches from his.

“I’m not as fragile as you think, Sylus,” you whispered, your voice steady even though your heart pounded in your chest. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if caught completely off guard by your sudden boldness. Then, a slow grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker, something hungry.

“Oh, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, “you think you’re being serious, don’t you?”

You kept your grip firm on the back of his neck, refusing to back down. “I am serious.”

The way his eyes softened at your determined expression made your stomach flip. He found you adorable—your attempt at taking control only seemed to amuse him more. “Look at you,” he said, voice dripping with affection and a hint of that ever-present teasing. “So tough, huh?”

Before you could say anything else, Sylus closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. His hands, which had been holding you so delicately, tightened their grip, pulling you flush against him.

Your boldness evaporated as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a wave of flustered heat. The intensity of his kiss left you dizzy and though you had initiated this, you quickly realized you were in over your head. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you felt your face burning with embarrassment.

He broke the kiss just long enough to chuckle against your lips, his breath warm as he whispered, “What’s the matter, sweetie? You’re the one who made the move.”

You could barely respond, too flustered to form words. He loved it—he could see it in your wide eyes, the way your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. You’d been so bold just moments before, but now? Now, you were back to being the adorable, innocent girl that had him wrapped around her finger.

Sylus leaned in again, this time brushing his lips over your cheek, down to your jaw, his voice a low, teasing rumble. “So cute when you’re all shy like this.”

Your hands trembled slightly, but you held onto him, trying not to completely melt under his touch. “I’m not… shy” you mumbled, but the words came out weak, betraying how flustered you really were.

“Oh, sure” he teased, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “Is that why you can’t even look me in the eyes right now?”

You wanted to protest, to regain some sense of composure but before you could, his hand slid down from your waist, trailing over your hip, slow and deliberate. His touch sent a shock of heat through you, and you instinctively arched toward him, though the movement only made you feel more embarrassed.

Sylus grinned against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you responded to him. “What happened to handling everything, kitten? Still think you’re in control?”

The way he spoke, his voice thick with amusement and a teasing edge, made it clear he was fully aware of the effect he had on you. He wanted to push you, see how far he could take it.

His hand slid lower, his fingers brushing over the curve of your thigh, teasing you just enough to leave you breathless. He pulled back just slightly, his face hovering above yours, his eyes scanning your flushed expression with a mixture of fondness and wicked delight.

“You look so cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured, his tone soft but with that same edge. “But you’re not ready for the things I want to do to you, are you?”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you met his gaze, determined not to back down completely. “Try me,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky.

Sylus chuckled again, leaning down to kiss you once more, slower this time, savoring the moment. “Oh, kitten,” he whispered between kisses, “you’re going to be so much fun.”

Sylus hovered over you, his lips barely leaving yours as he deepened the kiss, drawing out every flustered breath and soft sound you made. His hand, still trailing over your thigh, paused, fingers curling just enough to make you squirm beneath him. He pulled back, only an inch, enough to look at you with that knowing smirk—the one that told you he had complete control of the situation, no matter how much you’d tried to take charge.

“You really think you’re ready for this?” he asked, voice low, dark, but still teasing. His hand slid higher, resting on the bare skin just beneath the hem of your dress, his thumb brushing in soft circles that made it impossible to focus.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest, but you managed to meet his gaze with more boldness than you felt. “Yea,I can handle it.”

For a second, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, his smirk softened into something more, something almost affectionate. “You’re adorable,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Trying so hard to be brave.”

Before you could respond, his hand gripped your thigh a little tighter, drawing a soft gasp from you. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your neck. “But you don’t have to pretend with me, kitten. I know exactly how to get under your skin.”

The teasing lilt in his voice sent a thrill through you, and though you wanted to hold onto that boldness, the way his fingers danced across your skin made it impossible to keep up the act. Your breath quickened, and you could feel the heat rising in your face as his touch became more deliberate, more confident.

“See?” he murmured, his lips brushing over your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “You’re already trembling, sweetie. I told you… you’re not ready for this.”

His words were a challenge, but they weren’t mocking. It was as if he was genuinely testing you, seeing how far you’d go before backing down. And despite the way he was unraveling you, you weren’t ready to surrender just yet.

“I can handle you,” you whispered, though the quiver in your voice betrayed your confidence.

Sylus chuckled softly, his lips moving up to your ear, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through you. “Is that right?” His hand slid even higher, fingers brushing dangerously close to places that made you gasp. “Then why do you sound so nervous, kitten?”

Your face burned, and you instinctively bit your lip to stop the soft whimper threatening to escape. But Sylus wasn’t about to let you off the hook that easily. His lips were back at your neck, pressing a lingering kiss there before whispering, “I love how quiet you get when you’re flustered. It’s like you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

You could feel the warmth of his smile against your skin and it made your pulse race even faster. His hand moved deliberately now, tracing the edge of your inner thigh, teasing but not giving you what you secretly craved. It was maddening how in control he was, how effortlessly he played with your reactions.

“You’re so easy to read, sweetie,” he said, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression both amused and intense. “I could keep this up all night, just watching you squirm.”

You couldn’t help it—your face flushed a deep red and you looked away, embarrassed by how easily he was getting to you. But Sylus wouldn’t let you escape that easily. He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning your face back to his.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his voice softer now, though no less intense. “I want to see every expression, every little blush. It’s too cute to miss.”

The tenderness in his words made your chest tighten, but there was still a darkness to them, a possessiveness that left you breathless. You were caught between the soft affection he was showing you and the overwhelming heat of his touch and you were losing, fast.

“I can’t…” you started, but the words fell apart as he leaned down, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. His hand slid higher, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear, and you gasped into his mouth, your body arching involuntarily toward him.

He broke the kiss just to smirk against your lips, clearly loving the way you were reacting. “Can’t what, sweetie?” he teased, his breath mingling with yours. “You were so sure you could handle it.”

Your mind was spinning, and though you’d started this, it was clear that Sylus had taken control completely. But despite how flustered you were, you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more, even if you could barely keep up with him.

“I can handle it,” you whispered, more determined now, though your voice shook.

Sylus smiled, the kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned down again, this time his lips brushing just beneath your ear. “You’re so stubborn, kitten. I like that about you.”

Then, his hand slid down, tracing a slow, torturous path along your inner thigh. His touch was light, teasing, just enough to leave you aching for more but never giving in completely.

“But you still have so much to learn.”

Sylus’s smirk deepened as he watched your breath hitch, every little movement you made betraying just how much he was affecting you. His fingers, still tracing delicate patterns along your inner thigh, were slow, deliberate, and maddeningly teasing. Every time he got close enough to make your heart race, he’d pull back just a little, dragging out your anticipation until it felt unbearable.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dropped lower, sending a thrill down your spine. “You’re trembling already, kitten. You’re not used to this, are you? No one’s touched you like this before.”

You didn’t trust yourself to respond, but that only made his smile grow. He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your neck, letting the heat from his lips sink into your skin. His free hand slid up to your waist, gripping just firm enough to make you arch toward him instinctively. He knew exactly how to play with your body, how to drive you wild without even giving you what you wanted.

Sylus pulled back just slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and the intensity in them made your stomach flip. He tilted his head, watching every flustered expression cross your face, drinking in the way your lips parted, the soft, breathless sounds that escaped you.

“Still think you can handle me?” he whispered, his voice rich with amusement, but his touch told a different story—it was heavier now, more intent.

You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible with him this close. His fingers trailed back up your thigh, higher this time, slipping just beneath the edge of your underwear, the movement slow, teasing.

The sensation made you gasp, your body instinctively pushing closer to his. That small, desperate movement wasn’t lost on Sylus. He grinned, clearly loving how much you were craving his touch now.

“You’re not as innocent as you act, are you, kitten?” he teased, his breath warm against your skin. “Look at how you’re moving for me. You’re not shy now, are you?”

His words sent a wave of heat through you, and though you wanted to hold onto that boldness from earlier, you couldn’t deny how flustered you were under his control. Your body was betraying you, responding to every touch, every low whisper and Sylus was enjoying every second of it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, but he didn’t kiss you—not yet. He stayed there, close enough that you could feel his breath, the teasing proximity making your pulse quicken.

“You’re going to have to ask for it,” he whispered, his voice dark and tempting. “If you want more, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell me.”

Your mind was spinning, but the heat of the moment made it impossible to think clearly. Sylus’s hand was still tormenting you, fingers barely brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs, teasing you in a way that made it hard to form words.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as his touch grew more deliberate, his fingers moving in slow, torturous circles that left you breathless.

“Come on, kitten,” he coaxed, his lips grazing your jaw, his voice dripping with amusement. “I know you want it. Just say it.”

You could barely breathe, let alone speak, but the way he was looking at you, the way his touch had you completely at his mercy, left you no choice. “Please,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

“Please what?” he asked, his tone smug, but his touch never faltered. “You have to tell me exactly what you want.”

Your heart raced as the words hovered on the tip of your tongue, but Sylus wasn’t going to give you any relief until you said it. He waited, his touch slow and deliberate, every movement sending shocks through your body.

“I want… more,” you finally breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk grew, clearly satisfied with your answer. “That’s a good girl” he murmured, and without warning, his fingers slid fully beneath the fabric, pressing against the heat of your body.

The sensation made you gasp, your back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure shot through you. Sylus’s hand moved with deliberate precision, his touch confident and unrelenting. He watched your reaction with a dark, predatory gleam in his eyes, clearly reveling in the way you responded to him.

“You’re so sensitive, kitten,” he whispered, his voice low and husky as his fingers moved in slow, torturous circles. “I could make you come just like this, couldn’t I? Just by playing with you a little.”

Your breath hitched, your body trembling beneath him, and you hated how much truth there was in his words. The heat was building inside you and the way Sylus’s fingers moved—slow but intentional, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—had you desperate for release.

But he wasn’t going to make it that easy for you.

Just when you were about to lose yourself completely, Sylus’s hand stilled, pulling back just enough to leave you breathless and aching. You let out a soft, frustrated whimper, but Sylus only smiled, leaning down to press a teasing kiss to your lips.

“Oh, sweetie,” he whispered against your mouth, his voice filled with dark amusement. “I told you, I’m not going to be gentle. I want to see just how far I can push you.”

Sylus watched you squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying the way you were unraveling under his touch. His lips ghosted over your neck, sending shivers through your body, while his hand lingered just out of reach, keeping you on edge. Your breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, your body aching for him to push you further.

“Look at you, kitten,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with wicked intent. “So desperate already… all from a little teasing.”

You whimpered in frustration, your hips moving involuntarily toward his hand, silently begging him for more. But Sylus wasn’t going to give in that easily. He smirked against your skin, his fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive spot between your legs, but not applying enough pressure to give you what you wanted.

“I could keep you like this all night,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Just on the edge, begging for more. But…” His hand slid back into place, pressing more firmly now, drawing a gasp from you as he began moving again, slow and deliberate, each touch pushing you closer to the edge. “…I want to hear you scream my name.”

His fingers worked with maddening precision, moving in slow, rhythmic circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body. Every touch, every stroke, was pushing you higher, closer to the point of no return. Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the heat coiled tight inside you, ready to snap.

“That's it, sweetie,” Sylus whispered, his voice dark and enticing. “I can feel it. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You could barely respond, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation building inside you. Your fingers gripped the sheets, your body trembling beneath him as his pace quickened, his touch becoming more relentless, more intense.

“Sylus…” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his tone both commanding and teasing. “I want to hear you say my name when you come.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and before you knew it, the wave hit you. Your body tensed, then shattered, pleasure crashing through you in overwhelming waves. You cried out his name, your voice shaky, breathless, as your body gave in to the intense release.

Sylus didn’t stop. His fingers kept moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were trembling and gasping for breath, completely undone beneath him. Only then did he slow, pulling back just enough to leave you sensitive and spent, but still aching for more.

As your body came down from the high, Sylus grinned down at you, clearly pleased with the way he had unraveled you so completely. His eyes were dark with satisfaction, and that familiar teasing smirk was back on his lips.

“You look so cute when you’re a mess like this,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Was that what you wanted, kitten? Or did I push you too far?”

You could barely speak, still trying to catch your breath, but Sylus didn’t need a response. He chuckled softly, his hand trailing lazily down your thigh as he watched your flushed, exhausted expression.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his tone both affectionate and mocking. “I’ll take it easy on you… next time.”

He pulled back slightly, his fingers still brushing over your skin in slow, teasing strokes that made you shudder even in your sensitive state. “But you’ve got a lot to learn if you think you can keep up with me.”

You looked up at him, still dazed from the intensity of your climax, and Sylus’s smirk only deepened. He leaned down, kissing the corner of your mouth before whispering against your lips, “You’re mine now, kitten. And I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he slid his hand away completely, leaving you breathless and aching, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent

“We’re just getting started,” he teased, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips as he watched the lingering need in your eyes. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

#lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus x reader #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x you

292 notes · View notes

libingan · 1 day

Text

—how the tf141 are like when they’re sick.

im sick. that’s literally my only motivation to write this.

i feel like absolute shit but holy fuck i wanted to write this so pls enjoy

no horny juice rn, so its all fluff

JOHN PRICE

when price gets sick, it’s almost like he’s in denial about it. he’s the type to downplay everything—says it’s just a little cough, just a bit of a sore throat. but then, as the fever starts creeping up, you see the cracks in his usual solid demeanor. he’s flushed, his breathing a bit labored, and when you gently place the back of your hand on his forehead, he swats you away at first, grumbling that he’s fine.

“you don’t have to worry about me,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice steady. but the cough that rattles through his chest betrays him, and eventually, even he can’t deny it anymore.

you coax him into bed, tucking the blankets around his broad frame, and he grumbles under his breath about how ridiculous this all is. he’s not used to being taken care of—he’s the captain, the one in charge, and letting someone fuss over him isn’t in his nature. but there’s a moment when you bring him some tea, and he accepts it quietly, his eyes softening just a little as he watches you.

“i’ve had worse,” he rasps, his voice thick with congestion, but when you sit beside him, he leans into the warmth of your presence, even if he won’t admit it. he tries to stay in control, tries to ask about your day or if there’s any work that needs to be done, but you can see how tired he is. when he finally gives in to sleep, his hand rests loosely on yours, a silent acknowledgment that he’s glad you’re there, even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

gaz is the worst when he’s sick, and he knows it. he tries to be strong about it, but the minute the fever sets in, he’s a mess of sniffles, groans, and dramatic sighs. you find him sprawled out on the couch, a blanket barely covering him as he flips through channels, looking utterly miserable.

“i feel like death,” he complains when you sit next to him, and despite the obvious exaggeration, he looks pitiful enough that you can’t help but smile. he’s not usually one to be overly needy, but when he’s sick? he’s all about the attention.

you bring him some soup, and he gives you a weak smile, propping himself up just enough to take a sip. “you’re an angel,” he mumbles, but even that little bit of gratitude is followed by a dramatic cough that makes you roll your eyes.

he’s restless, constantly shifting under the blankets and complaining about how bored he is, how much he hates feeling like this. you offer to stay with him, and his eyes light up, a mischievous glint behind the obvious exhaustion. “you gonna keep me company?” he teases, voice thick with congestion. “or are you just here to make sure i don’t die on the couch?

you settle in beside him, and even though he’s feeling awful, he still cracks jokes, trying to keep things light. but there’s a quiet moment where he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder as he drifts off to sleep, his breathing finally evening out. you stay there, feeling the weight of him against you, knowing that as much as he’s complaining, he appreciates you being there.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

soap is absolutely insufferable when he’s sick, and he knows it. at first, he tries to play it off—still bouncing around, still grinning, still acting like everything’s fine. but then the fever hits, and it’s like watching a hurricane get knocked flat. he’s sprawled out on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable no matter what he does.

you bring him a glass of water, and he gives you that familiar, cocky grin, even though he’s clearly not feeling well. “you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he rasps, taking the water and downing it in one go. his voice is rough, but there’s still that glint of mischief in his eyes. “ye know, if i weren’t sick, we could be havin’ a lot more fun right now.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the way his teasing makes your heart flutter. he’s always been like this—flirty, cheeky, always pushing your buttons. even now, as he’s lying there, feverish and miserable, he can’t resist making a comment.

“don’t suppose you’ll give me a wee cuddle, eh?” he grins, shifting on the bed and patting the spot beside him. “might help me feel better.”

you know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, but when you settle next to him, he actually quiets down for a moment, resting his head on your shoulder. his skin is warm, almost too warm, and you can feel the tension in his muscles as he tries to get comfortable

“don’t worry,” he mumbles, his voice soft now. “i’ll be back to my usual self soon enough. ye won’t be able to keep yer hands off me.” despite his words, he’s clearly exhausted, and when he finally drifts off, he’s peaceful for once, his usual energy gone, replaced by the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

when ghost gets sick, it’s like he’s trying to hide it from the world. he’s not the type to show weakness, not even to you, and it takes a lot for him to admit that he’s not feeling well. but eventually, even he can’t fight it off anymore, and you find him in bed, eyes closed, the tension in his body betraying how much he’s struggling.

he doesn’t say much when you sit beside him, offering him some medicine and a glass of water. he just nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the glass, the touch brief but enough to let you know he’s thankful for your presence.

he’s quiet—always quiet—but even more so when he’s sick. there’s no grumbling, no complaining, just the occasional shift of his body as he tries to get comfortable. you adjust the blankets around him, and his eyes flicker open for a moment, dark and heavy with exhaustion.

“you don’t have to stay,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. but there’s no force behind his words, no real intent for you to leave. in fact, the way his eyes follow you as you move around the room tells you that he doesn’t want to be alone, even if he won’t admit it.

you sit beside him, and for a while, there’s just the sound of his breathing, slow and labored. he doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t demand your attention, but the way his hand occasionally brushes against yours is enough. he’s not used to being taken care of, but he lets you stay, lets you be the quiet comfort he needs.

eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls into a restless sleep. you watch over him, knowing that even though he doesn’t say much, your presence is enough to ease some of the weight he’s carrying, even if only for a little while.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader

215 notes · View notes

likeumeanit9497 · 4 hours

Text

i know you know | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after a night at a party, matt hears his best friend sleeping with someone. the memory of it overtakes him all the next day, and he can't get it off his mind. but what happens when it turns out that she wanted him to hear all along?

warnings: SMUT (holy fuck this is smutty); established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); unprotected p in v (don't do this); absolutely filthy talk; voyeurism vibes; switch!matt; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: guys i fear i might have just written my new fave one shot. i warned y'all that i only have matt ideas rn, but this one is SO GOOD i had to post immediately. i normally don't go feral for my own writing but this one made me get up and do a few laps around the house tbh. i hope y'all like it as much as i liked writing it LOVE U LOVE U LOVE U MUAH

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Matt?” You called his name as you began climbing up his front steps. “Hey, I’m doing laundry.” His voice rang through the house, and as you entered the empty kitchen you saw his back in the hallway as he folded a pair of jeans and placed them on the neat pile of clean laundry stacked on top of the washing machine. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment half in greeting and half to help ease the pounding in your heavy head.

“Last night almost killed me. How are you feeling?” You asked him, lifting your head off of his shoulder so that he could face you. His eyes were tired, his hair was a mess, but there was a slight glint of curiosity in his eyes that caught you off guard. After staring at you for a moment too long, he replied. “I feel alright. Slept most of the day though.” You released a soft laugh.

Last night, you and Matt went to a big party for one of your mutual friends. What was supposed to be an early night — both of you agreeing to show face for an hour and then head home — turned into one filled with dancing, too much tequila, and a night spent on the couch of the host for you both. Once you were both sober in the morning, Matt drove you home and you both tended to your own hangovers for the rest of the day. Now it was Sunday evening, and you two decided to spend it watching a movie and eating shitty food.

“Same here,” You replied, “I literally rolled out of bed 30 minutes ago. You’re lucky I even had enough energy to drive over here.” You leaned against the running dryer, and watched as one of Matt’s eyebrows arched as he continued folding clothes. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He replied, a smile threatening to creep over his mouth. Noticing the knowing tone in his voice, you grew confused.

What you didn’t know, was that Matt knew that it wasn’t just the two of you who had spent the night on that sectional couch. He had noticed you spending a lot of time with Carrington, a good friend of the host. He watched the two of you throughout the night — he saw you touch him any chance you got; saw you dance on him once you got really drunk; and most definitely saw you press your lips to his at the end of the night. So, late last night as he tried his best to sleep, when he heard the creek of the stairs and felt the dip in the couch, he knew that Carrington had laid down with you. That was confirmed when he heard the soft whispers that you two shared before the sound of wet kisses filled the dark room. A moment later, he laid as still as he could as he felt the couch begin to move in a rhythm that could only mean one thing.

Although you and Matt had the type of strong friendship where you both felt comfortable telling the other about your sex lives, never before had either of you been so close in proximity to the act itself. Although he was facing the opposite direction, Matt knew that your feet were only centimetres from his head, and the thought of invading your privacy like this, albeit unintentional, made his cheeks flush red. Even in his belligerent state, Matt had been shocked, and he considered making the fact that he was still awake known. Until he heard it.

Your soft moans floated like music in his mind, and they were unlike anything he had heard before. They were angelic, breathless; as if the air was being pushed out of your lungs involuntarily to create the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The heat that he felt in his cheeks immediately began travelling down his body, right to his growing member. And then, the unmistakable wet sounds of your arousal — surely dripping from you not more than two feet away from his ear — caused his head to spin. The two sounds radiating from you created the perfect harmony, and they made his cock press excruciatingly against his stomach; desperate for some relief.

The movement of the couch — and with it, your moans and wetness — increased in speed. As it did, your soft voice, so familiar and divine, whispered into the quiet room, “I’m gonna cum!” Matt pressed his pelvis into the couch, doing his best to relieve some of the pressure he felt in the tip of his cock. As your moans got louder, his heart pounded faster. Suddenly, as you reached your orgasm and began riding the waves, he felt one of your feet lightly graze his bare back. Goosebumps immediately rose on his skin, and the slight contact in combination with everything he heard was so intense that he thought he was going to cum all over himself.

But just then, the room grew painfully silent once again. After some time, the indistinguishable whispering returned, then the sound of one quick kiss, and finally, the creaking sound of the stairs. You two were alone once again, and in the silence Matt began to question whether or not he had dreamt it all. That was, until he heard your soft voice whisper his name. Immediately, he felt his body react, but stayed as still as possible so that you would think he was asleep. He seemed to do a good enough job, as after not getting a response, you slowly got off the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Once he heard the door click shut, his eyes shot open. The air was filled with the addictive smell of sex, and his cock had grown so hard that it was throbbing. Tentatively, he ran his hand along his shaft still in his boxers and had to stifle a guttural moan from the brief contact. No, he couldn’t do this here. Not when you were in the next room able to walk back through the door at any moment. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep. He would just have to try to get to sleep, and deal with his spiralling brain tomorrow.

Well, now it was tomorrow, and he had spent the entire day thinking about it. When he had woken up to your smiling face asking for a ride home, he had felt riddled with guilt; as if he had taken advantage of you. The guilt was only exemplified when, once he was alone, he had spent every minute thinking about it; his dick growing hard every time he heard your moans in the back of his mind. Even as he slept the day away, he had dreams about it and had even woken himself up by grinding his hips against his mattress. It had been driving him crazy, and now you were standing in front of him, seemingly oblivious to everything that had been running through his mind, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Hello? Earth to Matt?” Your voice pulled him out of his train of thought, and immediately his cheeks flushed when he realized that he had been completely zoned out for god knows how long. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He mumbled, folding the shirt he had in his hands. “You’ve deadass folded and re-folded that shirt like five times. Are you okay?” You asked, concern etched across your face. Gulping, Matt nodded his head. “Shit really? Must be the brain fog.” He forced out a laugh that sounded painful to his own ears, but it seemed to be convincing enough for you, as you once again relaxed against the dryer.

Matt’s focus went back to the pile of clothes in front of him, and as he began organizing the pile of socks, he heard what he had been reimagining over and over again in his mind. That now achingly familiar soft moan of yours. His whole body jolted in shock, the sound much more vivid than it had been in his memory. Slowly, his eyes were pulled from the laundry to your face, and he found your eyes shut in ecstasy as you leaned against the running dryer. His jaw almost dropped at the sight, and his cock, already having been on high alert all day, immediately responded.

“This feels so good.” You whispered, just as you had the night before, and Matt had to brace himself against the washing machine to stay upright. Your eyes were still closed, a small smile crept onto your full lips, and in that moment it all became too much for him. His cock was pulsing in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat, and as you released another small moan and bit your bottom lip, he began to wonder if maybe — just maybe — you had wanted him to hear you last night.

His hunch grew stronger and stronger as he continued to take in your expression with your back pressed against the dryer, and he felt the shame strip off of him as your hooded eyes finally opened slowly. They landed on his dilated eyes and slowly trailed down to the impressive bulge in his pants. Looking back up at his flushed face, you couldn’t help but smile shamelessly. Because he had been right.

It hadn’t been planned, of course, but once Carrington pushed himself into you, the thought of Matt being just on the other side of the couch filled you with a new and unfamiliar level of arousal. So as you moaned, you hoped that he would hear it. The thought of him listening caused you to grow more wet than you ever had before, and it didn’t take long for you to finish. As you came, you purposefully brushed your foot against him; trying to let him know that it was him you were thinking about as you unraveled.

You hadn’t been sure that he heard you, after all when you whispered his name he hadn’t answered, but the way he had been acting since you arrived at his house today — zoning out, avoiding eye contact, and seeming extremely flustered — you know that he knows. And knowing the effect it had on him, you want him to do something about it.

Matt watched as you put both hands on the dryer before hoisting yourself up to sit on it. With the dryer running, the vibration that came from it shot right to your core, and subconsciously your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Matt watched, completely stunned, as you pleasured yourself on top of the dryer. He was in such a state of shock that he wasn’t even sure if this was real life. You rolled your hips once, twice, against the machine, and then suddenly your eyes were on him again. The pleasure you were experiencing was etched into your face — your full lips a dark shade of red, dark eyebrows knit together, pink cheeks flushed — and it drove him crazy. But it wasn’t until your lips turned up in a small smile and you grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you, that he was finally able to move.

“You heard me last night, didn’t you.” You finally regarded the elephant in the room, and watched as his eyes bulged slightly in surprise at your knowing gaze. Very slightly, he nodded his head; his eyes were planted on your lips. “Should we talk about it?” You asked, dragging your fingertips up and down his torso slowly; feeling his stomach tense each time you reached below his belly button. Still hypnotized by your lips, Matt placed his hands on each side of your face before shaking his head no.

Without hesitation, he engulfed your mouth with his own. They moved with a quivering desperation that can’t be sufficiently described with words. His hands ran through your hair, pulling you as close to him as he could. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, gasping at the feeling of his rock hard member pressing against your aching core. It seemed to affect him too, because as soon as they made contact a small grunt fell from his lips and landed on yours.

Matt’s hands eventually moved from your hair and snaked down to your waist, where he quickly pulled your loose-fitting sundress up and exposed your bare tits. You watched as he took a moment to admire their fullness before bringing his mouth to one. He nibbled and sucked on your sensitive nipple, shooting rays of pleasure down your spine. As he moved his mouth to your second tit, he gripped harshly onto your hips. With his grasp, he expertly titled your pelvis in such a way where your cunt was pressed directly against the dryer; causing moans to spill from your mouth from the vibration.

As he helped you roll your hips against the warm metal, he struggled to keep his composure as he heard you moan for himfor the first time. Just like last night, they were soft and breathy, as if you didn’t even notice them falling from your lips. But his ears caught every single one, and they drove him crazier each time. Looking down to where your body connected with the machine, his vision grew blurry as he noticed the fluid that had accumulated on top of the dryer; the same fluid that he had heard last night. “Mmm, so wet already?” He managed to purr in your ear, causing you to shudder in pleasure.

You nodded, letting your head fall back as the pleasure intensified by his words. “F-for you Matt— fuck! — all f-for you.” At your words, Matt stopped all of his movements, afraid that he would fall apart in seconds if you kept speaking like that. Looking up at your disoriented face, he noticed that the loss of friction was making you antsy. You hooked a small finger in his chain and pulled his lips to yours; kissing him deeply as his tongue swiped against your teeth begging for entrance. You pulled away, needing more than a kiss, and watched in awe as Matt read your mind and dropped to his knees in front of you. He brought his hands up to your hips where he grabbed onto the sides of your thong, slowly sliding it down your legs.

You watched, chest heaving, as he tossed your discarded thong into his pile of laundry that still needed to be washed without letting his eyes leave your dripping core. His eyes on you like this was exactly what you imagined as you thought of him last night, and the neediness in his blue eyes threw you into an erotic frenzy. He grabbed both of your legs and, after stroking them thoughtlessly for a few seconds, placed them on both of his shoulders. Eyes flittering between your core and your face, he spoke, “Need a taste.” His voice was gruff with arousal, and you responded by lacing your hands through his hair and pushing his beautiful face in between your legs.

As soon as his tongue ran up your slit to collect your arousal, he lost any hint of sanity that he still had. You were so sweet against his tastebuds, and so soft against his lips, it took everything out of him to not cream his pants. Instead, he effortlessly found your aching clit and began sucking and kissing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Already stimulated by the dryer, you felt yourself melt under the pressure of his tongue. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning against you, causing the vibration to echo through your entire body. You mindlessly began grinding yourself against his face, chasing a high so intense that nothing else seemed to matter.

Matt relished in the feeling of suffocating by you, and used his hands to spread you apart. He pulled away for a brief moment to take a look at you stretched open for him, and the sight of your dripping hole — begging, without words, to be filled — made him want to pull his cock out and slam it into you immediately. But no, he was going to savour this. So instead, he spit onto your cunt and began tongue fucking your hole. As he eagerly drank up all your juices, his tongue moving in and out of you quickly, you lost the ability to stifle your moans.

Even though he knew you were getting too loud — after all, Nick and Chris were somewhere in the house — Matt couldn’t get himself to shut you up. The sounds that fell from your lips were like music to his ears, and he wanted to listen to them forever. Besides, how could he tell you that you were being too loud when he was making all sorts of erotic noises with his mouth against your cunt?

Your head fell back against the dryer, it wouldn’t be long until you came. The build up was so intense, so good, that you almost didn’t want it to end. Plus, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Matt’s poor cock, suffocating in his pants. As you imagined it, veiny and dark red at the tip, your mouth began to water. After coming back from the washroom and getting back on the couch last night, you glanced at Matt’s still frame and wondered if — even subconsciously, if he hadbeen sleeping — his body had reacted to what had happened. Your suspicion was furthered the next morning. When you went to wake him up to ask if he could drive you home, the blanket had slipped off of his lower body and exposed the imprint of his hardened cock; and your mouth watered. Since then, you had fantasized about taking all of him in your mouth as an apology for not helping him out that morning.

These thoughts raced through your bleary mind, and the pressure continued to increase in your lower stomach at Matt’s relentless tongue in between your legs. You wanted to cum, badly, but even more than that you wanted to get a taste of him. Just the thought of his warm cock in your throat caused your back to arch and a moan to slip from your lips, so in a frenzy you grabbed his jaw and pulled his mouth from your core. Cool air quickly replaced his warm tongue, and you cringed at the loss of contact. Matt looked up at you, his eyes hooded in contentment and his lips and chin coated with your arousal. “What’s wrong?” He asked, taking in your expression.

Without saying anything, you turned your body so that you were now facing the wall behind the dryer. Carefully, you lowered your torso so that you were now laying against the machine, legs bent and facing away from Matt; your view now being his frame upside down. Confused, Matt took a few steps back so that he could look at your face. You lock eyes with him, and he chuckles softly. “What are you doing?” His voice is still deeper than usual, and your view of his bulge makes it clear that he is in desperate need of you. “Want you to fuck my throat.” You replied simply, watching as his eyes darken in arousal while his eyebrows knit together in relief.

Without hesitation, Matt begins frantically removing his grey sweatpants. His cock has been achingly hard since last night with little to no relief, and your words shot straight to it. The filthy talk falling from your lips was still so foreign to him, but that unfamiliarity was addicting. He pulled his boxers down and finally freed his cock from its restraint, and even the feeling of it slapping his stomach on release was enough to make him shudder in pleasure.

As soon as your eyes fell to his exposed cock, your mouth watered. It was so perfect, so plump, you couldn’t wait to wrap your lips around it. As he took a step forward, you impatiently opened your mouth wide; not wanting to wait another second. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, and after tapping your mouth with his cock twice, he slides just the tip in. Already, the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him causes him to see stars, and he doesn’t even move for a few moments as you swirl your tongue around his tip. You find the bead of pre-cum dripping from his slit, and lap it up indulgently.

You want more of him, so in a desperate act you begin trying to bob your head while upside down in order to travel down his shaft. Your desperation gets to Matt, and, recognizing that you want more of him, he begins thrusting his hips slowly into your mouth. Even with only half of him in your mouth, you can feel his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and all it does is make you want more. You wrap your lips as tightly as you can around his girth, and the hushed groans that fall from his lips tell you that he’s enjoying himself.

You begin to grow frustrated, not content with the fact that you haven’t had all of him in your mouth yet. So you reach up and grab firmly on his hips, opening your throat to allow his entire length access as you pushed him forward. Matt hissed, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock sinking deeper into your throat, and that was when he lost all control.

Matt grabbed onto the sides of your neck to brace himself before finally driving his cock all the way down your throat. He started slow, sliding it all the way down, holding it in place for a moment, and then pulling it nearly all the way out before doing it all over again; but once he realized that not only could you take all of him, but that you also enjoyed it, he started picking up the pace. He watched your throat as he fucked it, and noticed that he could actually see his cock going all the way down it; causing his vision to go blurry. “Fuck, baby.” He moaned out, his voice shaky as he struggled to not lose himself.

You were in heaven, the feeling of his cock filling your throat caused your body to flood with heat, and you couldn’t stop your hand from finding your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with Matt’s thrusts. Noticing your hand, Matt quickly swatted it away before replacing it with his own; the softness of your wet cunt enough to cause his cock to twitch; threatening to shoot his seed down your throat. But he didn’t want to cum; not until he felt all of you.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled his dripping cock out of your throat; causing you to gasp for air. Before you had the chance to question anything, he grabbed you under your arms and pulled you off of the dryer before slamming you against the wall in the hallway. The wind was knocked out of you, but Matt didn’t give you a minute to recover before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist; keeping you pressed to the wall. His mouth found yours again, and the taste of you on his explorative tongue was enticing. With his mouth still on yours, the tip of Matt’s cock practically finds your opening itself, and it was so hard he didn’t even have to stabilize it with his hand before it slipped into you; stretching your walls and filling you up completely.

As soon as he bottomed out, he released a deep, guttural moan that echoed in your ears. Fighting a moan of your own, you grabbed the back of his neck. “Shh!” You whispered, looking into his eyes through droopy eyelashes. He snapped his cock into you. “You didn’t seem too concerned with staying quiet last night.” Matt’s words were strained as he tried to control his thrusts. Still looking at him in the eyes, a sinister smile crosses your face at him actually wanting to talk about last night for the first time.

He picked up on the reasoning behind your smile, and he snapped his hips again; causing you to yelp. “So you did want me to hear, hmm?” His head moved to the crook of your neck, and his lips against your ear caused goosebumps to raise on your skin. As he thrusted into you, all you could do was nod. “Do you know — ah fuck — do you know how bad my cock has been aching for you all day?” His words caused the pressure in your stomach to triple, and the thought of him being desperate to be inside of you caused your back to arch against the wall.

“M-made me feel like a creep all day, and for what? Hmm?” Matt grabbed your jaw and made you face him. He continued driving himself into you as he stared lustfully at your face. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth; letting his thumb fall in before wrapping your lips around it and sucking innocently. “Fuck baby,” He grumbled, watching your lips as your tongue swirled around his thumb. “Tell me.” His eyes were pleading with you, and you knew he was close, but he wasn’t gonna cum until you told him the truth. “W-wanted you to k-know what it’s l-like — fucking me. Wanted y-your cock h-hard for me.” You managed to tell him the truth. “Jesus Christ.” Matt moaned out in response, grabbing the base of your hair before slamming his cock in and out of you faster than he had before. Each time his cock hit your g-spot, your head slammed against the wall behind you; adding a new intensity to the fast-approaching orgasm you were feeling.

“Shit, gonna cum. Where do you want me?” His voice was ragged, as was his pace, and the desperation laced throughout the sloppiness drew you even closer to the edge. “As deep as you can get Matty.” You whispered in his ear just before you were overtaken by your own orgasm. As he continued to thrust into you, you felt your walls convulse around his girth. Your legs wrapped even tighter around his waist, toes curling as the waves of your orgasm crashed around you.

As you were still in the middle of cumming all over him, Matt suddenly snapped his cock hard and deep into you; spilling his seed deep in your guts, just like you asked, as a deep ragged moan fell from his mouth. Your hungry cunt milked his dick dry, and the intensity of filling you up with the nut that had been debilitating him all day was like no other orgasm he had ever experienced.

You could feel his cock twitch repeatedly as he filled your insides with his hot white cum, and his soft moans of pure relief in your ear were as continuous as your own as you both fell into a deep trance. As you both came down from your highs, Matt held you against the wall; brushing his fingertips softly against the skin on your upper thigh. You had never had sex so satisfying, so deliciously exhausting, and you were in such a haze that you could have easily fallen asleep right there, pressed against the wall.

But after a few moments, Matt carefully slid his shaft out of you and helped you to your feet. He took a moment to admire you, fixing your hair and pulling down your dress, before leading you to his washroom. “You’re a little psycho, you know that right?” He asked jokingly as he started the shower. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection; evidence of Matt’s touch all over you. You smiled at him as he helped you take off your dress. “I’m sorry.” You replied, to which he rolled his eyes. “No you’re not. But do me a favour, next time you want me to fuck you, just tell me, alright?”

Your stomach did an excited flip from his unexpected words, and you walked into the shower on shaky legs. Turning around to face him standing by the washroom door, you found him staring indulgently at your naked frame. You put your hands on your hips and huffed dramatically. “Okay, get in here. I want you to fuck me.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

158 notes · View notes

obsessedbtch · 2 days

Text

𝟐 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬, 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝟏 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

hopkins! p. bueckers x fem!reader

summary: she can’t let you read her, she is so difficult to understand, you are tired of crying because of her.

warnings: angst!! paige doesn’t know what she wants.

note: kinda short, trying to make my writing more smooth and understandable

“sometimes it’s better to close the window no matter how beautiful the view is.”

scanning once again the notes you toke from spanish class, the blue ink keeping company to the paper and the little sticky notes spread around this one. in a few days you had an exam, being the paranoid person you are, wanting anything more than a perfect score made you study everything you have been seeing since day one, finals were around the corner. you decided to study all the way to north carolina. wanting an excellent grade wasn’t the only thing disturbing your mind, a certain basketball player was also bothering you, maybe that’s why you couldn’t make the information stick in your brain.

it bothered you, it bothered that you couldn’t understand her, you tried, but she was so difficult to read, she refused to open up to you, even though you have been dating for quite a while, maybe it wasn’t even dating, it felt like you were just fuck buddies, a shoulder to cry on, a friend.

some times she couldn’t keep her hands to herself, her hands being glue and your skin being paper, it was difficult to take off once glued together. other times, she wouldn’t even take a glance at your direction, making a conversation with everyone except you, it made your eyes itch with tears and your throat tightened.

the only ones to observe they way you will agonize for her, was the brightens of the moon and the stars, highlighting beautifully the black sky when it came dark, looking down on you laying on your backyard while your parents where gone, you thought that your pillow was sick of having to absorb your salty tears.

some how, the itchiness of the green grass beneath you, the full round moon, with small white dots shining around her, brought you comfort, when the cold was to much to handle and it felt like a rough breeze surrounding the nude of your arms and legs, it filled the noticeable hole in you heart, filling it up with comfort, the one you desired so bad.

you have a bad habit, a terrible one. is it really that bad wanting, desiring something so bad? it truly is if its making you feel all kinds of ways, but not the ways that made you feel loved, or make your breath shaky and unstable when your heart started to speed up.

you could write about her to the point of suffocating, not thinking the right words to describe her, staring at her was like looking a blank paper, you don’t know what do with it until they gave you instructions, you don’t understand why is it blank, it doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t express anything, it’s so difficult to understand.

“i cried while writing about you in my diary.”

you couldn’t stop writing about her.

it was so late, you couldn’t bother taking a look at the clock.

the sound of little rock’s hitting constantly on your window was something to familiar, you knew that perfect aim to well, it made you write even more faster, not taking note about how awful your writing became the more you write about her, it was so noticeable, the words coming from the bottom of your heart and the cold tears threatening to came out like water falls from your eyes once you blink, it made your eyes even more watery and burn from not blinking, not wanting to ruin your perfectly done homework.

finally giving up, fixing your posture, you allowed your back to take a break while still hearing the rocks hitting on your window, taking it like a background sound, but it made you feel frustrated.

as consequence of relaxing, the tears that pilled up in your eyes came out like just like you expected, without writing anything and not being concentrated in anything, it made the sound of the rocks grow louder.

standing up from the chair, making aside the thoughts of the person hitting your window was paige.

opening the curtains not being welcomed with the shining sun of the early morning, instead, it was the sight that gave you comfort, that dried your coldly salt tears with the breeze making your once warm pinkish cheeks sticky.

but this time it didn’t bring comfort.

it made your heart explode.

the view was so beautiful, the stars filling the darkness not leaving any blank space behind, the moon, today it was a third quarter.

you stared at her, trying not to show any emotion, just like she did when you tried to talk to her, it was like you switched roles, she had a agonizing stare it almost made you cry.

she looked up to you, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out, she didn’t know what to say, the words kept getting stuck on the bottom of her throat.

your hands made their way to your wide open glass window, you needed to close the window, right now or you wouldn’t be responsible for your actions, but it was such an amazing view.

the sound of your windows crashing because of the sudden collision made your walls shake, the sound making you shut your eyes tightly, afraid that if you opened them again you would run into her arms, only opening them again once you closed your curtains.

written by coeur!! byeeee

159 notes · View notes

gracestuurn · 1 day

Note

heyyy, I'm just thinking about subby matt after a long day. basically cockwarming him leads to lazy soft sex if your comfortable writing that x

➥ Warming up

Sub! Matt x Reader

Warnings: cockwarming, slow lazy sex, fluff, nickname use of ‘baby, mama.’

A/N: if planning on taking any inspiration from my work, credit would be super appreciated xo

A/N 2: this is the first request I’ve written like ever so I hope this is okay and this was just my take on the request. Another thing this isn’t proofread so if there’s any grammar mistakes I’m sorry I lost my glasses.

Mine and Matt’s day had been long and tiring, we had left so many things last minute until we were rushing around trying to do twenty things at once.

We finally returned home, our shared apartment, cold, because of the crisp autumn weather.

Matt flopped down, tiredly, onto the couch as I followed after.

I felt him shiver beside me.

“You cold baby?”

He nodded his head as he nuzzled closer to me, looking up at me with his soft, sleepy blue eyes.

We had both had a long day, our heating was once again, broken.

I had one last resort.

That’s where I found myself on Matt’s lap, my plush thighs pressing against his as I impaled myself onto his cock slowly.

A soft hiss left his lips as my warmth surrounded him.

I gave his lips a soft peck.

He leant into the kiss, deepening it ever so slightly before pulling back with a content sigh.

He rested his head on my shoulder, his breathing slowing and evening out as he relaxes completely into my embrace.

“I love you, mama.” His voice muffled against my skin as he spoke.

I ran my hand through his soft brunette locks.

“You warming up now baby?”

He nods his head slightly, moving slightly as he tries to nuzzle even more into my neck.

A string of small barely noticeable whimpers leave his lips ass he moves.

“N..need you mama.” He moaned desperately, his hands gripping my hips.

I giggle softly as I begin slowly moving my hips, his breath hitches as I slowly ride him, letting me take full control. He buries his face into a couch pillow, muffling his soft moans and whimpers.

“Mph..you feel so good..don’t stop.” He moaned.

I continue slowly, lazily rolling my hips against his.

More strings of moans and whimpers fell from his lips.

His hands slid up to my tits, gently cupping them.

“C..can I?” He pleads, looking up at me.

I nod my head as I continue slowly lazily rocking my hips.

He leans up, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking gently as his hands continue to explore my body.

“I love your tits..” He whispers against my skin, his cock throbbing inside of me as he speaks.

He leans back, watching me with hooded eyes as I ride him.

“Please keep going..just like that..” He whispers, his hands sliding down to my thighs to guide my movements.

His breath begins to hitch as I pick up the pace slightly.

“Mmm..just like that..”

I moan softly as his dick hits just the right spot, his grip on my thighs tightens as his breathing grows faster.

“You’re.. so.. good..” He hisses, his words punctuated by his quickening breaths.

His hips slightly rise to meet mine as I continue to ride him.

“M’so..close..” He whimpers.

“Hold it for me baby, I want you to cum with me.” I whisper as I slightly nip at his ear.

He bites his lip and nods, his hands clutching my thighs as he tries to hold back.

“With.. you..” He pants, his face contorted with effort, his fingers digging into my thighs.

“Just a little longer.” I say between soft moans as I move my hips up and down his length.

“You’re doing amazing.” I whisper in his ear as I peck his lips.

He whimpers softly, his face still contorted as he tries to hold back.

“P-please..now..” He begs, his voice barely a whisper.

His body is taut, his muscles coiled and ready to snap.

“C-can’t..hold back much longer.” He whines, pressing his face into the crook of my neck.

“Now baby..you can cum now.” I moan softly, his cock hitting just the right angle to send me into release.

I moan his name softly as I clench around his length.

His face relaxes, his expression overcome with pleasure as he finally lets go.

“C-coming now..love you..” he stammers, his words slurring together.

His hips thrust upwards as he spills into you, his whole body shaking and convulsing with the force of his release.

“God..I love you so much.” He mummers again.

I help ride out his orgasm, the room filling with the sound of our soft pants as we regain composure.

“You did amazing.” I whisper affectionately, nuzzling my nose against his.

He nuzzles back, his arms wrapping around me tightly as he catches his breath.

“M-Mm..thank..you.” He whispers, his voice hoarse.

He presses his face against my neck, kissing and biting gently.

“S-stay like this.”

After cleaning up and putting on some clean, comfy clothes me and Matt decided to spend the rest of the day watching movies and cuddling.

A/N 3: have a great rest of your day xo

Tag list: (none yet)

#matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #mathew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine

154 notes · View notes

pipiririo · 3 days

Note

hi! i have a request idea

the characters with a lot of charisma and seem more confident e.g oikawa, kuroo, Gojo. there confident facade breaks and yn comforts them perhaps after a long day or something 🫠

feel no pressure for this and take care :))

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。•

Beneath The Mask

characters: tooru oikawa, tetsurou kuroo, satoru gojo

warning: small nsfw joke

[word count: 1489]

Request by our first anon! Ty anon, I hope you like it🙂‍↕️

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。•

Summary: Seemingly unattainable goals, long days, and high expectations may cause certain people to rip at the seams. Luckily for them, they will always have someone at their side to sow them back together.

Oikawa—

✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Tooru was not normally one to let his emotions get the best of him, especially not during a game. When you had watched him begin to drink bottles upon bottle of water whilst his eyes kept darting to the scoreboard, you knew something was wrong. He was someone who focused all of his attention on the success of his team, not of him as an individual. But because today he was hyper-fixated on an individual, he responded with the same actions.

You were worried, to say the least.

These past two months all you have seen from him is constant smiles as he gave the best advice to his teammates and even his classmates. He would smile to all of his fan girls and when he was finally able to walk home with you, he would stay quiet. Being quiet for him indicated that he was exhausted. Who could blame him? He was putting in all this effort for the people around him, yet it was simply not enough.

Nothing was ever enough to Tooru Oikawa.

Luckily for him though, everything he did was more than enough for you.

And now here you were with an exhausted Tooru laying his head on your lap as he ranted about the past few months. You gently raked one of your hands through his brown hair. From the way he was lying, his hair flopped backwards, revealing his forehead. He heavily sighed before continuing with his next tale.

“Oh, and get this—he told me I should’ve gone to shiratorizawa. Can you believe the nerve?!” He complained.

You slightly chuckled as you closed your eyes. Your free hand rested gently against his cheek. “Unfortunately, I believe it. You know he’s been like this since middle school, Tooru.” You replied. This was something you did every once in a while in order to let him know that you were still listening.

He let out a deep breath as he slowly relaxed his body in order to lean into your touch.

It became silent until he spoke up.

“Sorry you have to listen to—“ Before he could finish, the hand that was resting against his cheek quickly covered his mouth in order to block his next few words. He opened his eyes in surprise to meet your own. He was in awe as he was met with your caring gaze.

“How many times have I told you to stop apologizing to me?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.

He decided to test you, removing your hand from his face in order to speak.

“Don’t you have essays to write? How about you—“

Your lips interrupted him as you gently placed them atop of his own. A slow and very small peck, but one that undoubtedly worked.

Instead of being surprised, he smiled a smug smile.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so stubborn. You had best be glad I love you.”

Kuroo—

✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Tetsu?” You looked up from your phone as you heard some steps rushing towards you. Your eyes narrowed in worry as you noticed that the black haired bed head seemed to have been looking for you everywhere. You assumed that it only occurred to him they you would be waiting for him in the same spot where you meet up after practice.

“What’s wro—“ Your voice was cut off by his arms pulling you towards him in a strong yet loving embrace. By his lack of words, you had already figured something overwhelming must have happened either at practice or with one of the advanced classes he was taking.

There weren’t many people around anymore since it was about two hours past school hours and most people’s club’s had already ended, so you didn’t have to worry about someone passing by the two of you. You knew this moment in time was something that Tetsurou wanted to keep between the two of you.

It took you a moment to get your thoughts together, silently melting into him as your hand rubbed small circles against his back. Your lips slowly parted and you spoke twirly and softly.

“Do you want to come over to my place? I’ll order us food.” You tried to negotiate with him to make him feel better, and it seemed to have worked as he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

“Maybe I should get upset more often. I don’t really see you like this often.” He joked, causing you to snort.

“Next time I’ll just kick you into a better mood.” You replied to his little joke, pulling away to grab him by the hand instead. You lightly pulled to motion for him to walk. “Now—walk and talk. What happened?” You finally ask.

He accedes to your gesture and begins to walk hand in hand with you. He shrugged and looked up as he explained. “Being a captain and president isn’t easy work, you know.” He said nonchalantly.

‘Ah, so he is overwhelmed. And it’s college application season…’

“Trust me, I know. The student council doesn’t take excuses for late paperwork easily. Besides, it’s college season. You can take a day off, you know.” You reassured him.

He only responded with a small laugh. “I guess so.”

The walk back to your house was rather quiet, but it was a calming quiet. The Sakura trees were in full bloom even as the sky turned from a shade of orange to a soft shade of pink and purple.

“Thanks.” Tetsurou’s voice filled your ears suddenly as you neared your house. When you had looked up to him with a raised eyebrow, you noticed that he wasn’t looking your way. Rather, he was looking straight ahead. Seemed like he was a bit embarrassed when it came to things like that.

You smiled and leaned into him, your head against his arm.

“Any time.”

Gojo—

✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Sooo…are you gonna explain that last message or…?” You tapped your foot against the wooden floors, your back resting against the wall behind you whilst the man in front of you took off his jacket, leaving him in a button up. His glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. He threw the jacket over to the couch beside you, which distracted you. You turned your head to see the jacket land, but ended up feeling Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and pulling you up.

You gasped in surprise, looking at him in bewilderment as he carried you over to your shared bedroom. He plopped you down on the bed and joined you shortly afterwords by laying damn near on top of you, knocking your breath out of you.

He then sighed dramatically. “Just tired.” He mumbled as he buried his head at the crook of your neck. In turn, you sighed at his antics, but you knew he would usually laugh it off it wasn’t something important.

“The strongest can express his emotions too, you know~?” You spoke in a sing-song voice, trying to motivate him to speak.

Unfortunately, Satoru was not a man that would budge so easily.

“The strongest has to stay that way for his fiancée to actually want him.” He retaliated.

You rolled your eyes and smacked the back of his head. His glasses fell off his face and landed on your chest. You picked them up and closed them gently to place them on the bedside counter. When you turned back to look at him, he was looking at you with his crystalline eyes.

“I like Satoru, the man who goes crazy over kikufuku. Having ‘Gojo’, the strongest man, is simply a bonus. Now if you were a bum like a certain beggar, then that would be different.” You reassured him as you raked your hand through his hair.

Satoru laughed at your explanation before placing soft pecks to your collarbone.

I few minutes of the same routinely affections, you pat the back of his head to signal for him to get up.

“Are you gonna eat the kikufuku or are you just gonna let it get hard?” You asked him with a feigned annoyed voice. However, his next words caused you to push him off of you.

“Something else is already hard unfortunately. Do you wanna deal with that first~?”

“Yeah, you’re done. I’m eating them by myself.”

He quickly got up to run after you, chasing you around your house as you tempted him with the kikufuku in your hands, a grin on your face. He eventually caught you after letting you have your fun and made the two of you fall on the couch with him on top of you. He grabbed one of the kikufuku and took a bite, whilst you bit the other end.

The Strongest was a title given at birth, but Satoru is who he chose to be. It just so happened to be the person you chose to be with for the rest of your life, too.

I am posting this half asleep bcs I have work tmrw morning 😾 (im going to blow my head off)

Anywho, I hope everyone liked it!

I’ll knock out the next requests tmrw!

—

Animated dividers created by @/cafekitsune!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smau #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smau #oikawa tooru #kuroo tetsurou #gojo satoru #oikawa x reader #gojo x reader #kuroo x reader

168 notes · View notes

bunny-1111 · 2 days

Note

hii i kind of recently stumbled into your account and i absolutely fell in love!! i love your writing and your theme 🤍 i was wondering if you could make one with theo where he's academic rivals with y/n but one day he pushes y/n a bit too far and it ends in him comforting/"babying" her? u can make them end up together or not its up to you! thank you in advanced ml

Thank you babyyyyyy <3 I appreciate you sm, I hope you enjoy

Word Count: 3.8k

Unedited and not reread

Reblogs comment and like appropriated my darlings

...

The flicker of candlelight and the soft shuffling of enchanted books were the only sounds in the nearly deserted library. You blinked, the strain in your eyes a reminder of the four long hours you had spent hunched over your notes. Stretching your arms above your head, you allowed your gaze to wander, taking in the rows of shelves and the dim ambience. The stillness of the evening should have been calming, but it wasn’t. Not when your eyes finally landed on him.

Theodore Nott was already staring at you, his dark eyes gleaming with that infuriating smirk, a silent taunt written all over his face. He didn’t even have to say a word to get under your skin; just being there, watching you, was enough.

You sighed, refusing to break the stare as he approached, his steps deliberate, elbows resting on the edge of your cluttered table without so much as a word. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of speaking first. If he wanted to start this, he could be the one to open his mouth.

“Struggling again, I see,” his voice finally cut through the quiet, dripping with arrogance as he nodded towards your scattered textbooks.

“I’m succeeding, not struggling, Nott,” you snapped, your gaze flicking back to your notes. The exhaustion gnawing at you was starting to wear thin, but you wouldn’t let him see it. “Maybe if you spent less time bothering me, you’d be worried about keeping up.”

Theo chuckled, stepping around the table, his presence closing in behind you. You could feel him hovering, leaning just close enough that the heat of his gaze bore into your back. “I’ll be waiting at the top while you catch up,” he murmured.

Your jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as you buried yourself further into your notes. You knew his game well by now—pushing, teasing, always trying to be one step ahead. He lived for it, as did you but lately, you were starting to feel like it was wearing you down.

“Wrong year,” his finger dropped onto your page, tapping on one of your scribbled notes. “It was 1783, not 1781. Get that wrong, and you can kiss ten marks goodbye. There’s so much for you to learn, I'll tutor you. You clearly need the extra help. How about we start with the Declaration of mer-kind Independence” he teases slowly

“I’m fine,” you say hiss, pulse-quickening in irritation. He picks up a stray book you had abandoned over an hour ago

He chuckles, a low sound that sets your nerves on edge. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just offering to help.” he studies the back of the book cover in his hands, whipping your head around, snatching the book back off him.

“Don’t touch what’s not yours, Theodore, and you're wrong, it's not mer-kind, it’s merpeople. Misuse the term, and you can say goodbye to 10 marks” You smile, using his own words against him.

He only grinned wider; he loved it when you played this game. “You’ll be back here tomorrow?” he asked like it was already decided.

“Mhm,” you hummed, gathering your things. “Nowhere better.” You didn’t bother with a goodbye, letting your words linger in the air as you made your exit.

The next day, as promised, you returned. Same seat. Same workload. But this time, the weight of it all pressed harder against your temples, exhaustion gnawing at you, threatening to topple the carefully built walls of concentration you had managed to put up. Don’t let him get to you, you reminded yourself; three weeks of non-stop studying couldn't be for nothing. But even as you focused on the page in front of you, you didn’t have to look up to know Theo had arrived.

“You’re going to burn a hole through that parchment if you keep glaring at it like that,” his voice cuts through your thoughts.

Your grip tightens around your quill, ignoring him completely, even as your cheeks flush with irritation.

“Come on, don’t ignore me,” he adds, that familiar teasing lilt in his voice. “You’re gonna give me a complex.”

You finally glance up, the smirk on his face testing your patience. Theo, as usual, drops into the seat across from you, uninvited. His dark eyes glint with amusement—he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. He always knows how to push your buttons.

"Don’t you have your own table?" you mutter, eyes flicking back to your notes.

"This one’s got a better view." His gaze is fixed pointedly on you.

You roll your eyes, irritation bubbling up. "If you’re here to distract me, save it. I’m focusing."

"Oh, I’m sure you are." His tone is light and teasing, but there’s always that edge to it. "But no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to beat me on this test tomorrow."

His words hit harder than they should. You grit your teeth, trying to keep your expression neutral. The weight of the upcoming test, the sleepless nights, the constant competition with Theo—it’s all piling on, suffocating you.

"I don’t have time for your games, Theo," you snap, your voice sharper than you intended.

He raises an eyebrow, not even flinching. "Games? I thought you enjoyed our little rivalry. Keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?" He leans over, slamming your book shut without warning.

You slam your hand over the book, eyes wide with frustration. "Don’t touch my stuff! Just… go find your own table!"

Theo doesn’t respond immediately, but the smirk falters. He gathers his things with more force than necessary, walking to the next table. But he doesn’t stop there, not entirely. "Yeah, well, don’t stop studying now," he throws over his shoulder. "Wouldn’t want a repeat of last year’s essay, would we?"

That comment—it hits differently this time. You’ve barely slept, barely eaten, and the pressure is crushing you. The final thread of patience snaps inside of you.

"Why do you always do this?!" Your voice echoes in the library as you stand abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. Several students glance your way, but you don’t care. "Every time, Theo. You can’t leave me alone for five minutes!"

Theo looks taken aback, clearly not expecting the outburst. He recovers quickly though, that smug mask returning. "Because I know you can handle it. It’s called motivation."

"Motivation?" you scoff, barely believing your ears.

You let out a bitter laugh, shoving your books into your bag with a force that surprises even you. “You know what? I’m done. Done with you and your constant need to prove you’re better than me. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Fucking pathetic ”

The scrape of your chair against the floor is loud, cutting through the silence of the library as nearby students glance up. Theo’s smile dropped, his expression shifting as he watched you storm off, you didn’t wait for him to respond. When you finally reach the astronomy tower, the cold night air hits your face the moment you step outside, but it does nothing to cool the simmering anger burning inside you. Leaning against the stone wall of the courtyard, you try to steady your breath, but your chest heaves with frustration. Why does he always have to push so hard? Why can’t he just—

“Hey.”

The sound of his voice makes you tense. You don’t look up.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

“looking for you,” he says, stopping a few feet away, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “You left in a bit of a hurry.”

“Yeah. Intentionally,” you mutter, eyes fixed on the ground.

Theo moves closer, a sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t like seeing you react like that.”

You scoff, pushing off the wall to face him. “Maybe if you didn’t constantly push me to my breaking point, I wouldn’t. I can’t keep up with your games anymore. I’m not eating, I’m not sleeping—it’s messing with my head. Why do you insist on this bullshit?”

He finally speaks. “I push you because you’re the only one who can keep up and what the fuck do you mean not eating, not sleeping”

The words catch you off guard, and you blink, trying to process what he just said. For years, you thought the rivalry was all about him proving he was better, about him enjoying getting under your skin. But this—this feels different. More personal.

“I don’t understand,” you manage to say, your voice quiet.

Theo takes a step closer, his dark eyes searching yours. “I push you because I like spending time with you. You get so focused, so intense, and it drives me crazy in the best way. When you make that face when you're really focused; you have a certain smile when you get a higher grade than me, too” His voice is low, careful, and it makes your heart pound you turn to leave, to catch up with your beating heart in private, when he grabs your wrist, pulling your right back

Before either of you can say another word, footsteps echo from the stone steps behind you. The unmistakable voices of Pansy and Enzo interrupt the fragile moment.

“Honestly, if Theo’s up here sulking again, I’m hexing him,” Pansy’s voice echoes up the stairs, cutting through the silence, laced with her typical blend of annoyance and affection. “I don’t have the energy for his brooding tonight.”

Before you can even think to pull away, Theos arm relaxes on yours, still tight enough to keep you in place, gentle enough for you to not want to let go, The moment between you and Theo hangs in the air, fragile and unfinished.

“Wow,” is what automatically splits out of your best friend's witty tongue, looking between the two of you. “Well, well, well, what have we here?” Pansy smirks, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you standing so close. “Did I interrupt some kind of lovers' spat turned romantic reconciliation?”

Enzo leans against the doorway, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Looks like Theo’s finally stopped acting like a total git,” he says with a chuckle. “About time.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you try to pull away, but Theo doesn’t let you go, his arm still firmly wrapped around your waist. “It’s not—” you start, but Pansy’s smirk only deepens.

“Please, spare me,” she says, waving a hand dramatically. “I’ve been watching this slow burn for years. You can drop the act now.”

Enzo smirks, clearly enjoying Theo’s discomfort. “Who knew Theo had a soft side?”

Theo groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Can you two not?”

Pansy crosses her arms, the grin never leaving her face. “Oh, please. Don’t stop on our account. I’m dying to see how this academic rivalry plays out when you two finally, you know, release your tension.” She winks.

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes, “It’s not what it looks like,” you mumble, saving your almost-exposed smile

“You two have been going at it for so long, it was bound to end in a hug or a duel. Looks like you chose the softer option.” Smiles Enzo

You bite back a laugh, “Well, it hasn’t ended in bloodshed… yet” you joke, glancing up at him.

Pansy leans against the wall, still smirking. “So, what’s the plan now? Are you two going to keep pretending you hate each other or finally admit there’s something more going on?”

Theo shakes his head, looking amused despite himself. “You’re unbelievable, Pansy.”

Pansy just grins wider. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

You glare at her, but there’s no real bite behind it. It’s Pansy, after all, and if anyone was going to notice the tension between you and Theo, it was going to be her. Still, your cheeks burn as she watches you both with that insufferable smirk of hers.

Theo sighs beside you, “Merlin, Pansy, can you not?”

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive,” Pansy teases, crossing her arms. “I’m just saying, if you’ve finally decided to stop terrorising each other, the least you can do is admit it.

Enzo, clearly enjoying Theo’s misery, pats him on the back. “Don’t worry, mate. We’re rooting for you me and Draco have a bet of 5 galleons again Blaise that you two get together before end of school year.”

“Get the fuck out of here, both of you,” Theo growls, but his eyes flick to you as he says it. His tone, the one that’s usually directed at you, is now used for your defense. And you don’t miss the way his gaze softens as Pansy and Enzo finally turn to leave, You roll your eyes, though the tension in your chest loosens slightly. “This isn’t some grand confession,” you mutter, glancing up at Theo. “Right?”

Theo smirks down at you, the usual arrogance gone, replaced with something softer. “Right,” he agrees, though the hand still resting on your waist suggests otherwise.

Pansy snorts. “not in love with each other, my ass. You two have been circling each other like animals for years, and now look at you, all cosy.”

With that, you finally step back from Theo, he didn’t fight you dropping your hand, crossing your arms over your chest. “We’re fine, Pansy. It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly not believing a word. “Whatever you say, you’re my best friend if you think I’m going to let this slide without some serious teasing later, you’re delusional.”

you roll your eyes. “Why don’t you go find something else to meddle in, Pans?” Theo lets out before you have the chance to reply. Unbeknownst to you he is desperately wanting for you two to be alone again

Pansy grins wickedly. “Oh, I fully intend to. But don’t think for a second I’m letting this go. I’ll need a full report on how we got here.”

Enzo nudges her, clearly ready to leave you two alone. “Come on, Pans. Let them breathe.”

Pansy gives you both one last pointed look before finally turning to follow Enzo out. “I’ll be waiting for details,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice sing-song and full of mischief.

The door swings shut behind them, and the quiet returns. You glance up at Theo, unsure whether to laugh or cringe at Pansy’s dramatics.

Once they’re gone, the space feels quieter. Lighter. Theo shifts beside you, and for the first time, the tension between you two doesn’t feel like it’s pulling you apart.

“So” Theo starts hesitantly. “Do you still think I’m just trying to one-up you?”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” you admit softly.

He steps closer, his usual bravado slipping away, replaced by something more vulnerable. “Then let me tell you.” His hand moves, and before you can react, his fingers gently cup your cheek. The warmth of his palm against your skin makes your breath catch. “You’re a bright witch. Brighter than anyone I know. I can see you’re tired of this game… but you’re not tired of me.”

The weight of his words settles over you, and for the first time, it feels like the competition has faded into the background, leaving something real in its place. Something different.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice steadier than you expected.

Theo’s about to smile when you pull away, breaking the moment. “I have to go. There’s that test tomorrow, and I want a good night’s sleep.”

“Mhm,” he nods, though his eyes linger on you, like he’s not ready to let the moment end.

You manage a small smile. “Still have to try and beat you, Nott.”

But he doesn’t laugh this time. There’s something more behind his eyes, something deeper, and for the first time, you wonder if maybe you’ve been playing the wrong game all along, he’s wondering the same thing.

You have an overwhelming feeling that if you stay alone with him any longer you’re going to do something without thought, or that he might bet you to it, your mind was a mess, you turn saying nothing more, not even a goodnight, racing with your own legs to catch up to Pansy.

The test comes and goes, and you walk out of the classroom with your head hanging low. You feel miserable, you aren't confident in your work, and you are terrified it will reflect on your grade.

On top of that you’ve made it your mission to avoid Theodore like the plague. How could you two even communicate without the teasing, without the constant back-and-forth, without unnerving everyone else around you? You have no idea, and you’re not about to figure it out anytime soon, it brought on a new set of frustration, a new set of nerves, it was almost worse than before.

As you sit, wanting to sink into your seat, waiting for your result, you feel a tremble threaten to spill out of your lips. You’re haze broken by a soft nudge that sways your body, looking over to see Theodore; with a sigh, you set your eyes straight ahead; you can't afford to become distracted now. You can’t take much more uncertainty.

You take a shaky breath as the parchment lands before you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at it. You already know. The sinking feeling in your gut says it all.

You failed.

Your hands shake as you stare down at it, that big, ugly number glaring back at you. Not just a bad grade—an actual, undeniable failure. The first one you’ve ever had. And it crushes you. The pressure to keep up, to stay on top of everything, to keep pace with him.

You brace yourself, waiting for the inevitable jab, you felt things changing between you both, but you still expected a small dose of sarcasm.

But it doesn’t come.

Theo is quiet. Too quiet. You chance a glance over, expecting his usual cocky grin, but what you find is... different. His expression is unreadable, brows furrowed as he watches you. There’s no teasing. No smugness. Just... concern.

“You okay?” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, careful, like he’s testing unfamiliar waters.

You blink, startled by the gentleness. “Fine,” you mutter, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.

He doesn’t believe you. He leans in a little closer, eyes narrowing as if he’s studying you, really looking at you, “dismissed” you hear your professor say above the noise of the classroom chatter.

You waste no time leaving class. You rub your eyes as you make your way down the hall, straight down to your common room.

You felt sad, disheartened, unaccomplished; you hadn't even noticed Theodore light jog to join you by your side, so unfocused that you kept walking when he called you to stop, he had to place his hands on your shoulders, his knuckles lifting your chin to force you to face him.

So there you stood, eyes meeting his and here is comes, the waterworks, unintentionally falling down your face.

You had no idea how Theo would react, Merlin, you didn’t want this to be happening but, it was, you couldn’t stop if you tried.

He wastes no time in pulling you into his chest. “Come on,” he mutters, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb, leading you both to the nearby couch in the empty common room.

When you finally have enough courage to look back up, you almost cry again when you lock eyes with the softness of Theo’s, never experiencing the affectionateness of each other.

“I failed” you choke out, muffled into his chest, he pulls you out to face him immediately “No. You didn’t,” he says as surprised as you are

“I did” you cry harder, forcing yourself back into his chest, his hands now find their way into your hair

“This is my fault, I pushed you too hard, for too long, I’m sorry, alright, I’m sorry” he rambles

"You don’t have to apologise," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I should’ve taken better care of myself."

Theo’s gaze snapped back to you, intense and unwavering. Both of his hands on each side of your face. "No," he said firmly, his jaw tightening. “I am sorry” he repeated

You looked down, your heart pounding in your chest. It felt surreal—this conversation, this moment. The Theo you knew, the Theo who pushed you to your limits and didn't feel sorry, you who would push him unapologetically, that Theo wouldn’t be saying these things, that you wouldn’t be feeling these things. But here he was, raw and real in front of you, admitting that he’d been wrong, and here you were, scared if you looked into his eyes for a second longer, you’d reveal how you felt before you could even come to terms with it.

"I don’t know what to say," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Theo leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing a soft kiss onto your forehead ever so lightly, the touch sent a shiver down your spine, you didn’t pull away. "You don’t have to say anything right now," he said softly, his voice warm. "Just… think about it. We can do this together. No more pushing, no more competition—just you and me, figuring it out."

Your heart stuttered at the way he said you and me like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it had always been there, hidden beneath the layers of rivalry and tension that had built up over the years.

You took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. You weren’t sure what this meant—what it would mean for the two of you going forward—but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you weren’t drowning under the pressure. Theo was offering something you never thought you’d get from him.

You let out a confused huff, laced with exhaustion, comfort, happiness, sadness, all of it in one sigh. Theo pulls you into a deep hug again, kissing your head over and over, when you finally pull away, you almost whispered "can I-" your lips hovering so close in front of his, "yes" he practically spoke into your mouth as your lips collide, sinking into each other until a sudden gasp makes you both break away and look over

“I fucking TOLD you, Enzo!” Pansy yells out, mouth agape, pointing at the two of you. At the same time, Blaises hands Draco his galleons. Apparently, everyone knew this was coming but the two of you.

i dont know how to feel about this fic tbh. Not my favourite piece of writing, I'm honestly kinda disappointed in this one, I've been working so much I think I'm burnt out... ughhhh anyway love y'all. ANON I hope this is sort of what you had in mind... its almost 3:30 am so IM INSECURE about posting this alright IDKKKK HELP hxweomhfsou,nzw

145 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 2 days

Note

Perhaps Hal Jordan or Clark kent with cuddling. Like just them coming home after a stressed day and you just take care of them the best you can. U offer sex but they don’t want it. Just wanting to be in ur presence for a bit yk yk

Clark Kent x Male reader

Headcanons

Hey nerds, guess who’s not dead. I feel like I am, but apparently, I’m not. Classes are kicking my ass because of very cramped timelines and long days. Who’d have thought becoming a caretaker (idk the English word) would be so difficult. A shorty, but still something I enjoyed writing.

It wasn’t a common occurrence. For Clark to come home so worn out and tired. As a man powered by the sun, a man of steel as he so regularly gets called, its very difficult to him feeling so worn down.

For the most part, the days he comes home in this mood, is not because he’s exhausted physically, but rather mentally. Be it from difficult missions, or just long days at work where he’s talked down too or pushed aside.

There is something soft and cute about him like this, though you would never tell him that. he’s always a little whinier and poutier, but also cuddlier, if that’s even possible for a guy who seems to live off affectionate contact with you.

The first thing Clark does when he comes home from days like this, is kick off whatever he’s wearing and change into something else. Most days its some ancient washed-out sweatshirts from his university days. The kind that’s been washed so many times the logo is mostly gone, and the fabric is worn thin and soft.

Its either that, or if you’re bigger than him, then it’s one of your shirts. That or just a pair of boxers and socks, so he can crawl into your space and flop down there like a big lazy cat.

If possible, Clark tries to crawl up into your shirt, laying his head on your stomach or your chest, ear pressed against your skin to listen to your heart, even if he can easily do that anywhere on the planet. Being so close just puts him at ease.

You cant hear it, but you know he’s purring, even if it’s a frequency you can’t pick up. At this point you can only really rub his back and let him soak up the affection and touch he needs like a wilted flower in the sun.

When he starts pressing featherlight kisses against your torso, you start to think maybe Clark wants something more, since he starts kneading at your sides, like you’re made from playdough, and he wants to mold you into something else.

His hands are so big and strong that you almost feel like playdough, with how insistent his rubbing and kneading can get. His kisses never go beyond soft pecks and barely there brushes of his lips, Clarks head just moving from side under your shirt as he lays on top of your legs.

You don’t need words in a situation like this, your hands becoming more exploratory, rubbing between his shoulders and tapping your fingers at his spine, like he’s a harp you’re plucking the strings off.

The change in your scent must catch his attention too, as Clark lifts his head just enough for you to see him through the collar of it, his eyes soft and glistening. They remind you of marbles, in a way. So shiny and with that clash of shades of blue.

The small downwards pout of his lips and minimal shake of his head is all you need to know, that going farther isn’t what he wants. So, you just give a nod in reply and place a hand on the back of his head, bringing him back down again.

You don’t really understand why he feels so much comfort under your shirt like this. Maybe it’s the enclosed feeling of it all, the shirt, and sometimes blanket you put on top, closing him off from the rest of the world.

Maybe its just the closure, and being surrounded by your scent, which always seems to put him at ease, or rile him up, depending on your own mood.

You don’t hate it though, you never could, not when its Clark. So, instead you just lay back, rubbing your hands slowly up and down his back and Clark nuzzles deeper against you, letting him rest there for as long as he needs.

102 notes · View notes

sleepybbie · 2 days

Text

FILL ME UP R♡CKSTAR! | KINKTOBER SPECIAL 2024

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ MINORS DNI (18+) ࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

—welcome to lily’s special kinktober request event! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

hello, hello! it’s been a while, my beloveds ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ since october is arriving, i thought to myself that why not join along for the upcoming kinktober? ;3 and also, why not make it a little special for both my followers and readers?

today’s theme for my kinktober special, is…rockstar/band au for honkai: star rail male characters!

here are the main courses to fill up!:

mirror sex with…

dumbification with…

degradation with..

cheating with…

jealousy fucking with…

exhibitionism with…

pet play/collaring with…

breeding with…

here’s how to participate! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

• ask in my inbox which kink you’ll pick to fill the blanks! the specific character you want, and the scenario!

• the scenario in my ask must be well-explained and not in a short sentence, unless you want the details to be up to me ! (ex. face sitting with guitarist!blade x reader and then explain your scenario).

• once you send your ask, i will be picking which only one i will choose for the certain scenario ^_^ so good luck!

• the masterlist will be out by sept 30 with the results! so hurry and pick your favorite!

here’s the catch! (rules): ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ

• as always, must be 18+ before requesting. ageless blogs and 17 below are BLOCKED <3

• if you chose the prompt ‘cheating,’ only reader will be the one that does so and not the character. reader will also not be cheating on the character (iykwim)

• i only write for female!readers since i don’t know how to write for gn or male (i’m rlly sorry!) T^T

• request in my ask only ! i will not accept from messages or in the comment section T^T

• no first come first serve! i pick depending how i like the scenario you provided <33

• i do not write for arlan, yanqing or misha ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ (i don’t feel comfortable writing for them, it’s illegal lol), nor do i write for npcs like skott ToT (however yingxing and dan feng are exceptions <33)

• male characters only T-T (i still haven’t figured out how to write spice for fem T-T)

rules understood? then good luck and have fun! excited to know your scenarios for this kinktober!

94 notes · View notes

httpsdana · 1 day

Note

you could do one where the reader is someone who doesn't like physical contact and héctor is very clingy so he's insecure about it.

Too Much~Hector Fort

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

It was hard for Hector not to reach out for y/n every time they were together. His fingers seemed to naturally gravitate toward hers, desperate for even the smallest touch. But she never seemed to welcome it. The way she'd subtly pull away or shift to create more space between them started to weigh on him.

At first, he thought it was just how she was, more reserved when it came to physical affection, but over time, that understanding turned into a gnawing insecurity.

Today was no different. They were both sitting on the couch, a movie playing in the background. Hector had his arm resting behind y/n, his body close enough to feel her warmth, but not close enough to touch. His fingers itched to rest against her shoulder, to stroke her hair, anything to bridge the gap between them. But he stayed still, the fear of making y/n uncomfortable freezing him in place.

“Are you enjoying the movie?” y/n asked, turning to look at him.

Hector forced a smile. “Yeah, it's good.” he murmured

But it wasn’t. His mind wasn’t on the movie. It was on her, on the space between them, on the tension that had been slowly building in his chest. He wondered if it was his fault, if he was too much. Was he suffocating her with his need for closeness? Was he doing something wrong?

Later, as the movie ended and y/n got up to stretch, Hector bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating. He wanted to tell her what was on his mind, but the words felt stuck, trapped behind the weight of his insecurity.

y/n noticed his quietness, but she was used to that. Hector wasn’t always vocal about his thoughts, but something about the way his shoulders slumped today felt off.

“You okay?” she asked softly, moving a bit closer to him.

His eyes flickered up to hers before he looked away, as if afraid she'd see the vulnerability in them.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” he said, his voice barely audible

That answer didn't sit right with y/n.

“You don’t seem fine.” she said

He hesitated, the conflict visible in his expression. After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” he said

Her brow furrowed confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked

“When I try to be close to you… like, physically,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like you pull away. Like maybe I’m too clingy or something.”

The hurt in his voice made hrr heart sink. She never meant to make him feel like that. “Hector, no—” she started but got interrupted by him

“I just… I don’t know. I’ve always liked being close to you, but I feel like you don’t like it. And maybe that’s just how you are, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.” he said, his voice weak and unstable

His words hung heavy in the air, and y/n realized just how deeply this had been bothering him. He was always so affectionate, always looking for little moments to be near her, and in her attempt to give him space, she hadn’t noticed the way he was shrinking into himself.

“Hector…” su said softly, sitting beside him again, closer this time. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

He didn’t look convinced, his eyes downcast as he fiddled with his fingers, a nervous habit y/n hadn’t seen in a while. “Then why do you pull away? Why don’t you… I don’t know, why don’t you want to be close to me like that?”

y/n took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “It’s not that I don’t want to be close to you. I do. I just… I’m not used to being that way. I’ve never been the kind of person who’s comfortable with a lot of physical affection, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” she said, reassuring him

His eyes lifted slightly, as if hoping for reassurance.

“I care about you so much,” she continued. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to be close to you. It’s not you—it’s me, and I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. I’m still learning how to be more open with that kind of affection.”

Hector remained quiet for a moment, processing her words. “So… you don’t hate it when I try to hold your hand or hug you?”

y/n shook her head. “No. I don’t hate it. I think I’ve just been too in my own head about it, worrying that I wouldn’t be good at it, or that you’d think I was awkward.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “You? Awkward? Never.”

She laughed slighty, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere between them.

“I’m serious! But I promise, I’ll try harder. I’ll try to meet you halfway, because I want to make you feel loved.” she said, her voice serious but soft

Hector’s eyes softened at her words, and for the first time that evening, he allowed himself to reach out, gently taking her hand in his. “That’s all I needed to hear.” he mumbled

y/n smiled, her fingers intertwining with his. It felt a little strange at first—being the one to hold on—but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt nice. His hand was warm, steady, and she realized how much she had been missing out on by keeping her distance.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want this,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you.”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You don’t have to apologize. I just… I just didn’t want to push you away by being too much.”

“You’re not too much,” she said firmly, her gaze meeting his. “You’re exactly what I need. I just didn’t realize it until now.”

The vulnerability in his expression faded, replaced by something softer, warmer. He leaned in slightly, his forehead resting against hers, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t pull away. She let him close the distance, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath as he held her gently, as if afraid she might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, the words so soft, they were almost lost in the quiet of the room.

Her heart swelled with affection, and this time, she didn’t hesitate to say it back.

“I love you too, Hector.” she murmured back

94 notes · View notes

sugar-coat-it · 2 days

Text

The one where Matty reads smut to you

I don't know what to call this but it was fun to write! Shout out Matty reading part of 50 Shades of Grey in like 2015

Fem! Reader

Contains: dom! Matty, him making fun of her shitty romance novel, Matty reading smut to her, recreation of book scene, fingering in front of a mirror, blink and you miss it pussy spanking, praise (good girl)

WC: ~2.8k

—-------------------------------

Matty discovers his girlfriend’s secret reading habits and can’t resist recreating one of the scenes.

—-------------------------------

You can feel Matty’s eyes on you without even having to look up from the pages in your hands. A smile twitches at your lips. It’s like a little game, pretending you can’t feel his gaze drinking you in, admiring the way the sunlight streams through the window. The way the light graces you, bathing your skin in glowing warmth. For a man who prides himself on his talent with words, he finds himself speechless. He doesn’t mind it one bit.

You’d been immersed in your book for hours. Admittedly, it’s not high-brow reading in the slightest. But when life is so serious, sometimes a shitty, steamy romance novel is exactly the remedy you need. Sometimes, you like to disappear into the dynamics of someone else’s life where things are simple and clean-cut. Predictable.

Unhurried, Matty pushes his weight off of the doorframe, padding across the floor to you as you lay on the couch, your book comfortably resting in your lap. He leans down, his necklace dangling in front of your face as he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flicker away from the pages when you feel his lips press to your forehead with such tenderness that your heart swoons. You listen to his soft hum as you reach up to cup his face, your fingers naturally finding their place against his jaw.

“Hi, baby. What have you got there?” he says softly, trailing a hand down your arm absentmindedly.

“Just a silly romance book,” you answer, marking your page before handing him the book.

He takes it from you, motioning for you to scoot over on the sofa to make room for him. Curled up at your side, Matty runs his finger down the spine of the book, observing the cover with a squinted, analytical stare. You already know he’s going to have plenty of opinions just from the art on the front alone.

“You’re not gonna like it. I’m sorry, it’s not philosophical, foreign literature,” you joke, causing him to scoff.

“Oh god. Don’t start with me, miss,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering over the title, “Well, I certainly don’t read about kissing and stuff but I’m not above trashy reading sometimes. I suppose I always thought these books were for grandmothers and like, desperate housewives.”

“They’re not just for grandmas and housewives!”

“Alright, alright. Forgive me,” Matty chuckles, kissing your shoulder apologetically, “What’s this one about then?”

You give him a look. An untrusting one. Matty looks at you right back, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“No, I won’t. I swear. Tell me.”

Sighing, you watch as he cracks open the book, beginning to leaf through the pages, smirking to himself as he scans over words with eager eyes. He nudges you with his elbow expectantly, waiting for a synopsis of the story that feels increasingly dumber and more cliche the more you think about how to explain it. But, damn it, you’re allowed to read something silly and romantic in your free time if you want!

"She's a princess and he's the knight bound to protect her. He's kind of roguish, and she's never really experienced anything, she's bound to the castle most of the time but she’s still a badass. They fall in love even though they know they can't,” you mutter, watching his smirk grow wider, clearly amused. “Ah, I see. Classic, cheesy, forbidden romance shit,” he nods, glancing over at you with a glint in his eyes (one that means he’s about to say something stupid). “Is the knight hot? Does he have a big sword?”

“Yeah. Huge,” you snort, making Matty cackle in response, flipping through random pages, only making you feel more on edge. You should survive this as long as he doesn’t come across a few particular parts…

He scans over a passage, his brows furrowing slightly as he goes, seeming thoroughly unimpressed by the author. You listen as he mutters the words to himself under his breath, practically being able to see how he’s mentally tearing it to shreds as his eyes catch over the sappy dialogue and paragraphs of woeful yearning.

“Christ. How many times is she going to use the word ‘longing’? This is… terrible.”

“Would you stop being a critic for once? It’s sweet,” you protest, finding the pining endearing. You’ve always been a slow-burn lover at heart.

Matty groans, yet he continues to read on, underwhelmed but curiously hooked at the same time. Just as you’d begun to lay your head on his chest to relax, he lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.

“Oh, he’s not just protecting her, he’s ‘trailing his calloused hands down her curves, his hands rough from years of wielding his sword’,” he reads before making an exaggerated moan, fanning himself with his hand dramatically.

You feel your stomach drop. You know exactly what chapter he’s reading from and it only gets more indecent from there. You pick your head up, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as, to your horror, he begins to read directly from the pages.

“‘Her breasts heaved as he unhooked her corset, his rough hands against her pale skin as he lays her on the silken sheets’. Wow, I take it all back, this is better than I thought, you didn’t say they fuck.”

You sputter, realizing you should have known better than to let him get his hands on your novel. You’re never going to hear the end of this now. God help you, the look on his face is absolutely wicked.

"But it's not just physical between them! He loves her more than anything and wants to show her what she’s been deprived of,” you shake your head, trying to snatch the book back to no avail, “You don’t get it, it’s for the girls, Matty.”

Matty rolls his eyes, chuckling at the heated scene that is unfolding on the pages before him, holding the book out of your reach. “Sweetheart, you can defend it however you want, this is absolutely filthy. You’re sitting here, casually reading pornography. Doesn’t matter if it’s ‘girly’.”

He leafs through the pages with the intent to get you thoroughly worked up, jabbing his finger at the page when he finds a particularly lewd section. He’s having far too much fun with this and he knows it.

“I mean, seriously, listen to this part. ‘His stare was piercing through her as he let her feel the stiffness of his pulsing member.’ Babe,” he chuckles in disbelief, “Horrid word choice there, so unsexy. I mean, just say dick.”

“Matty! Are you seriously doing this right now? Give it back,” you protest with heated cheeks, trying to reach for the novel just for Matty to hold it further away from you.

“No, no. We’re just getting to the good parts now, lemme see,” he grins wolfishly, curling up closer to you so his lips are brushing against your ear, “‘Maneuvering her to sit in front of the tall, gilded mirror, the knight slips her silk nightgown over her waist. With his fingers on her delicate jaw, guiding her gaze forward, he lets his opposite hand smooth down her body…’”

You can feel the air between you change as the detailed, obscene words begin to slip from his lips with ease. He has one hand holding the book while the other slides over your waist, stirring warmth inside of you as he gently moves his fingers back and forth. His tone has dropped down to a low, sultry murmur, a shiver racing down your spine at the slight rasp in your ear, the hairs standing up at the back of your neck. The tips of your ears burn every time he emphasizes dirtier words, rubbing little circles against your hip as he drawls to you about how the knight is tearing off her panties. The chapter is salacious enough as is, but the way he reads it to you makes it feel downright foul.

“... ‘She could feel an unfamiliar pressure building inside of her as he slowly curled his calloused finger upward, his thumb rubbing in tight circles against her heat, staring at her through the mirror’s reflection’,” Matty whispers, his breath hot, fanning against your skin.

He’s having a harder time focusing on the words when he can feel you getting increasingly warmer as you cling to his side, the heat radiating off of your skin from beneath your clothes. He doesn’t miss the way your hips squirm slightly, the crackling tension thickening the air between you as he reads. Matty can’t help but glance at you periodically, the unmistakable lust in your lidded eyes making him ache.

You can’t take it any longer, it feels like your entire body is buzzing with need, warmth coursing through you endlessly, pooling deep inside of you. You cut him off mid-word by turning your head and pressing your lips to his heatedly. Matty moans into your mouth, letting the book tumble to the floor as he moves to roughly grasp your hips with both hands, pulling you flush against his frame.

“Dirty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you with enough fervor to make your head spin.

Your hands cling to his shirt, letting his tongue slip past your lips as his eager fingers roam, groping and feeling you as he pleases. Your breath shudders as Matty pulls away to mouth under your jawline, alternating between heated kisses and nips of his teeth.

“Does it get you hot when you’re reading it, babe? Thinking about the knight fucking his princess?” he rasps, grabbing a handful of your ass.

You can only whimper in response, your head tilting back to give Matty more room to continue his loving assault on your neck, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin.

“Yeah, I bet it does,” he mumbles, laving his tongue over a faded love bite just above your collarbones.

Matty slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, scooping you up with your legs around his waist. As he carries you from the couch to your bedroom, you can’t resist grinding a little against the front of his gray sweatpants, feeling him twitch beneath the fabric. He digs his fingers into your hips, you’re not quite sure if it’s as a warning or to encourage you. You love it either way.

Just as you think he’s about to lay you down on the crisp sheets of your bed, Matty lowers you to the ground in front of your floor-length mirror, pulling you to sit in his lap with your legs spread, just like in the book. He taps your thigh, signaling for you to lift your hips, allowing him to slide off your pajama shorts.

With an approving sigh, Matty smooths his hands out over your inner thighs, making a shiver skitter down your spine with tingling warmth. He coos, settling his chin on top of your shoulder as he stares at your body through the mirror.

“Aw, you really liked me reading to you, baby. Look at yourself. You’re soaked through,” he admires, parting your legs wider to allow you a look at your dampened panties.

Matty skims his hand up your thigh with a murmur of “don’t look away” as he starts to feel over the darkened fabric of your underwear. You shudder, your lashes fluttering at the sensations that begin to stir at just the light brush of his calloused fingertips. You can feel your cheeks flush brighter at this new perspective, watching the two of you in the reflection of the mirror, seeing not only Matty’s reactions but also your own. You get to see the expressions that Matty loves so dearly when he’s making you fall apart, telling you how pretty you are. You do look pretty like this, with your skin flushed and your chest heaving with desire.

Agonizingly slowly, he presses two fingers against your panties, rubbing in little circles over your clit just to make you squirm in his lap. Matty kisses from the top of your shoulder to right under your ear, his breath hot as he watches you from the corner of his eye. His eyes are intense, darkened with urges.

Steadily, he hooks his fingers under the fabric, sliding the soaked material to the side with a groan that rumbles against your back. A gasp is ripped from your lips as he parts you with his fingers, exposing you to him with frustratingly gentle pressure. You can tell he’s restraining himself tonight. Even though he’s itching to have you writhing, he slowly dips his thumb into your pooling arousal, his digit slick as he finds your clit with practiced ease.

Your eyes roll at that feeling of first contact, sensations coursing through you as you get your first lick of relief. Matty traces firm circles, his other hand moving to grasp your breast, thumbing at your nipple over your shirt.

“Matty, faster, please,” you pant, your voice wavering with need.

“Shh, this is how it went in the book, hm? He was so gentle with her, isn’t that right?” he mutters, dismissing the way your hips jump, aching for friction. You can’t stand it. He’d whined about how awful your book was, but now he’s treating it like gospel, refusing to stray from how the scene was written.

Once he’s satisfied with how long he’s been lazily circling your clit, Matty picks up the pace just enough to make you whimper, still in control of your pleasure. His brows pinch together as your hips rock heedlessly on top of him, both of your eyes glued to his hand between your thighs. You can feel him, stiff and twitching beneath his sweats as the heat continues to bloom between you. Slowly, he starts to sink one finger inside of you, curling it just so. It’s obscene to watch.

“That’s it. Show me how much you like it,” Matty whispers, dragging his lower lip along your earlobe, “What does he do next?”

“What?” you mumble, too caught up in the feeling of your brain melting down your spine to understand the question. Matty smirks with the satisfaction of rendering you wonderfully dumb.

“In the book, darling. What does he do to her next?” he finishes, landing a firm spank on your cunt, relishing in your cry, “You didn’t let me finish readin’ ‘cause you got impatient, didn’t you, sweet girl? Always just gagging for me.”

You try and gather yourself enough to speak as Matty presses on your clit, your head lolling back against his shoulder. He moves his hand from your tits to your inner thigh, holding open your trembling legs in his secure hold.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he says with a kiss to your neck, encouragingly rubbing his thumb against your soft thigh, “I know you remember.”

“He… he has her look into her own eyes as he makes her cum.”

Matty whistles lowly, impressed, sounding like he’s sorry he didn’t think of doing that to you first. He reaches for your chin, grasping it to tilt your head down, watching you meet your own stare in the mirror.

“Good girl, stay like that for me,” he murmurs, keeping his fingers splayed across your jaw.

You watch as your eyes widen the moment Matty begins to swiftly move his thumb, pumping his finger in and out of you. Your brows furrow with a shuddering moan, your mouth dropping open. You grasp his wrist with urgency, feeling yourself approach the edge almost mortifyingly quickly as you pant and writhe on top of him.

“See how pretty you look when you’re about to cum? I fucking love that look. I live for it,” he grins, “That’s it, just let it happen, my love.”

He tightens his hold on your jaw, reminding you to watch your face as you feel it wash over you in waves of relief through your whole body, your expression contorting with pleasure.

“Ah, fuck!” you cry, listening to him mutter breathy sighs of “Good fucking girl” and “Yeah, that’s right” in your ear.

Once you go slack against his body, Matty withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean, obscenely sliding his tongue between them while you catch your breath.

“I reckon I did it better than him, what do you think?” he smirks, his voice muffled around his digits. You shake your head hazily as he lets go of them with a wet popping sound.

“You’re insufferable…”

“You love me. You looove me so badly,” he sings, grasping your sides lovingly as he presses his lips to your cheek.

You do love him. Badly. Even if you’re never going to hear the end of how terrible your book choices are.

#i need him to read tumblr smut to me pls #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fic #the 1975 x reader #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic

134 notes · View notes

twistyfish · 5 hours

Note

Your writing is so good whaaatt!! Could you do another comfort fic with the lad boys? Maybe like they come home and the reader is crying for whatever reason and so onnn. I love comfort fics 🤧🤧

thank you very much! here you are. i’m in a bit of a writing slump honestly 🥲, but i tried. also, some of you are requesting, which i’m very grateful for! if I don’t respond immediately it’s because i’m working on something else at the moment.

prompt~ they come home to you crying.

𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴

Zayne

You were so exhausted. You woke up with a horrible headache and did badly in training today because of that. Captain Jenna snapped at you over your simple errors, which made you feel worse.

You wordlessly picked a mug out of the cupboard and filled it with water. You brought it to your lips and drank, each gulp sounding against the metronomic headache that wouldn’t let you rest. A trickle of blood dripped down your philtrum, making a small splash in your cup. Sniffing, you wiped your nose.

Each drop of blood that ran from your nose overwhelmed you more and more until you were scrubbing your nose with your sweater sleeve, the wool fibers catching the liquid. You pulled your arm away and it looked like a surgeon’s rags.

Speaking of surgeons, your boyfriend chose that unaesthetic moment of you messily wiping your nose to walk into the kitchen. You put your arm by your side and tried to act normal as he fixed himself a cup of juice.

You kept your back turned to him as he asked, “How was training today?”

“Training was pretty standard. Tara told me she’s thinking of getting a tattoo.”

“Really? Did she tell you what kind of tattoo?”

“A pair of cherries.” You were just making stuff up, trying to find an exit from the conversation so you could clean up. “I’m going to go change into pajamas.” You quickly walked up the stairs before he could say anything.

Lip quivering, you picked out a set of pajamas and put it on the bed. You stripped out of your sweater, and the red patch on the sleeve caught your eye. Shit. Why did you wipe your nose on it? It would definitely stain. You really liked this sweater, too.

You felt your eyes burn, a fun contrast to the other sensations of your throbbing head and leaky nose. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you held back the sobs for a few beats before giving up and muffling your face in the already stained sweater.

You must have been like that for a while, because Zayne meandered upstairs without you hearing and peeked inside the bedroom door. “You’ve been up here for a while. What are you-,” he stopped, eyes widening. “Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”

He quickly walked over and put a hand on your back, peering down at you. “Is that blood?”

You wiped your face on the sweater before letting it plop to the floor. “Yeah,” you said tearily.

“Why are you bleeding? And why are you crying?” Came his calm response.

“I had a bloody nose, and… I don’t know.” You dissolved into sobs again. He looked at you sadly, his hazel eyes big and worried. He pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly for a few minutes until you calmed down. He rubbed your bare back, feeling the goosebumps and pulling your pajama shirt over your head.

“You don’t have to run away. From me, or your feelings,” he whispered.

𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖

Sylus

The air was too heavy. There was too much to dwell on, too many morbid and sickening atrocities that made you feel sour. You couldn’t comprehend how the world was still spinning with so many terrible people weighing it down. You certainly felt like you had been kicked off your axis.

It was more than anyone could take. One too many cases of something horrible on the news, and your stomach was churning. The reporter had described the event so plainly, with a grim resignation. The world was so advanced, and yet….

You didn’t feel the remote slip from your hand. You didn’t hear it clatter on the floor. You didn’t feel the tears swim down your face. You only registered that you were crying when your throat produced a strangled sound, and you finally clapped your hands to your eyes and just bawled.

You cried until you were dehydrated and numb and the garage door opened with a muted whirring. Your large boyfriend entered a few moments later, and you heard a quiet gasp as he took in the sight of you sobbing on the couch.

Sylus seemed less like a fiend and more like a fairy with the way he flitted around you, uncharacteristically lacking composure while trying to figure out what was wrong. By that point, the news had changed to some other story, and he looked confusedly at the TV.

“Darling, are you crying about inflation?”

That didn’t even get a smile from you, so he just picked you up from under the armpits and rocked you slowly, like a baby. You continued to cry softly as he shushed you and whispered comforting words in your ear.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked gently.

“There are so many bad people in the world,” you managed to say through weak hiccups.

“I know. You’re dating one of them.”

“You’re different,” you mumbled. “

“Oh? How am I different?”

“You’re an evil bastard, but I love you.”

He laughed throatily at that, and you felt a little better.

𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝

Rafayel

You were in a nice hotel, lying amidst silky duvets and plush, fat pillows. The moonlight snuck through the gaps between the ivory curtains and created beautiful spectral patterns on the walls.

Your darling fiancé was sleeping with his arm wrapped around you, so why were your shoulders shaking? Why were soft, choked sobs escaping your lips? Why the hell were you crying on vacation?

You didn’t know. All you did know was that Rafayel was stirring, surely awoken by your movement.

“Are you crying?” He murmured sleepily, propping himself up.

You willed yourself to stop shaking, stop being weak and just shut up. But it wasn’t working. The misery and self pity was eating you alive.

“Oh, sweetie,” he said, gently turning you around and cupping your head, kissing your wet cheek. “Don’t cry. You’ll get dehydrated.”

More tears ran down your face, and he continued to brush them away with soft fingers. “What’s wrong, my gorgeous girl?”

“I don’t know,” you choked out. “I just feel bad.”

“Oh, my love….” Rafayel kissed you again with sweetness and compassion. He combed through your hair with his fingers and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. He didn’t know how to soothe you, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He distracted you.

He brought his lips to yours and gently showed you his love for you. Whatever you were feeling, he would overpower it with all his heart.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Xavier

The clash of metal exploded in the air as your swords collided yet again, and you dodged another attack. Your eyes were burning. There was absolutely no way you were about to cry while sparring with Xavier.

But the next time your swords collided and you met Xavier’s soft, focused gaze, you failed to hold it back. You stared intently into his eyes as both of you struggled, and while straining against his sword, tears began falling from your eyes. His own eyes widened, and he stepped back, pulling his mask down.

“Are you injured?” He asked worriedly. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, lip trembling. You let out a shaky sob, and that was enough to concern him further.

“__….” He was at a loss for words. He had never seen you cry, and now….

“What happened?” He bent down, trying to assess your expression. You were trying not to let the tears win, but they definitely were. You finally gave up trying to hold it in and let your sword drop to the floor with a soft clink, now crying openly.

Xavier reached out hesitantly and pulled you into his embrace. Both of you were hot and stinky from sparring, but that didn’t matter. Not while you were crying.

You let out muffled sobs into his neck, letting him hold you as the two of you sank to the floor. Your tears mingled with the sweat on his shoulder, and he rubbed your back soothingly as you cried. He held you like that for a while.

“I’m sorry,” you said once the sobs had died down.

“It’s okay. I just want to know where this came from,” he replied in that sweet, soft voice.

“I’m tired,” came your plain response. He didn’t question you further, and gently patted your head.

He helped you pick up your things and walked you to the locker room, and you stopped to take a drink at the water fountain. His gaze was fixed on you as you drank, eyes tracing the curvature of your lips. He was so engrossed in watching you drink that you couldn’t help but feel shy.

You finished drinking and said bye to Xavier, still thinking about the interaction. He was always soft spoken, but you didn’t know he could be this gentle. Maybe you should talk to him more outside of sparring.

#love and deepspace x reader #lads #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x you #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #sylus x reader #reqs open #xavier x reader #lads x mc #lads scenarios

80 notes · View notes