#except the shirt. ignore that
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I tried
#khr#katekyo hitman reborn#spanner#khr spanner#posting him here too#because i havent finished a drawing in so long#so im kinda proud of this one#except the shirt. ignore that
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Random thought I had last night. Genuinely think they're both equally outlandish - which is just ridiculous in itself if you think about it.
#ngl i think him wearing a shirt might be the most shocking thing he could do#lifting weights? shoving his tongue on the homies' throats? absolutely normal 👍#a SHIRT?? a piece of garment covering his chest and tummy???? actual normal clothing???? no. absolutely not#but also. imagine he just says “hello” OMG i would flip#i'm not counting that small “thank you” on Wembley because those were exceptional circumstances#i mean a regular ritual were nothing bad happens. and he just decides to be verbal for once and go :::) hello 👋#dew yew loike that? fancy seein' you 'ere#i don't know why i'm giving him a cockney accent. i know he talks more southern and posh but that's just funny#IF he did talk with us. do you think he'd be all “i have throughly enjoyed this ritual. we shall gather once more in this land with haste”#or he'd go full “yo yeah that's chill dawg”#be all “would you look at iii that wanker. that's my mate right there”#lmao idk what i'm saying. if this has a million typos IGNORE IT cus i'm writing this before bed and queuing for the morning#sleep token
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Trina and mendel time :333
I was struggling with them tbh, especially their full body drawings. I still don’t really like them but it’ll work for now! Trying to get these out in groups, so I might have the lesbians coming up next! Then uh, Jason and his baseball bat, idk.
#falsettos#fanart#musicals#art#falsetoes#doodles#falsettos 2016#falsettos fanart#william finn#james lapine#falsettos trina#falsettos mendel#mendel weisenbachfeld#trina weisenbachfeld#digital art#I drew their face shots with completely different brush sizes#so js uh#ignore that#😄😁😁#also beginning to realize im drawing everyone in one of their act 2 outfits except for marvin#woopsies!#maybe I’ll redraw him in that ugly purple shirt or something#I might anyway cuz I don’t like how it likes#so!!!!!
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a few sollux doodles bc hes fun 2 draw
#ignore how gams shirt has his quirk but sols doesnt i kinda forgot that i was doing that#i draw him with gauges but his stupid ramona flowers ass haircut covers them up ☹️☹️#art#sollux#sollux captor#doodles#gamsol#i usually hate the 4chan incel shitty guy character but. that type of sollux characterization is an exception
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✨ Star Friends ✨
When I found out that @chessman-protocols boy Crit liked Astronomy, let’s just say I was beyond estatic and immediately planned this little comic. Here’s to my boy Vincent doing his best to make friends with folks who share similar interests 😅💙
Funny enough, I didn’t realize I put this in Vincent character’s until I looked at the whole thing, but Vincent very much shares the lack of stranger danger the way I did/ I do to this day. To quote one of my past managers I’m “abnormally friendly” or whatever
I can’t tell you how many times even as a small child (drove my parents nuts) that I saw a cool person with whatever connecting factor and I just straight up walked to them and was like “Ok cool. We’re friends now.” And nobody’s really stopped me? So apparently I have friends now. 😆
Vincent however is just a wholesome baby boy who doesn’t realize he’s actually an intimidating hunk of a turtle and randomly walking up to strangers and not saying anything can be taken the wrong way.
Like I said, he’s trying his best. He wasn’t exactly the most socialized if you can’t tell, but he does love dearly and is certainly a boone of a friend to have once you get past the inevitable social awkwardness. He’s loyal to put because he really doesn’t know better, and I adore him for that. Anyway, dunno if Crit knows any ASL or not, but either way Vincent is just excited to meet somebody else who likes space ✨🌌 💙
#just being jayus#doing this ugly and scared#my boy <3#Vincent my beloved#rottmnt original character#rottmnt oc#original comic#rottmnt#save rottmnt#unpause rise of the tmnt#time to go feral in the comments again; please ignore the ramblings of an insane person#Fun fact: Vincent is mute (late mutation and didn’t fully develop vocal chords) and so he only speaks turtle and partial ASL#Morrocoy Tortoise AKA Yellow or Red Footed Tortoise bop their head to assert dominance and show emotions#Head hopping and headbutting is Vincent’s tic and you can tell how he’s feeling by how fast or slow he goes because it’s a VIBE#Working on this comic was like the preverbal attempt of taking a horse to water#except this horse is a pony (anything under 14 hands is of the devil) and would not even spare it a glance unless it was perfection#Alas mockery and spite is unfortunately my demise and I could not handle the blank page any longer#Can you see how my style changed when the focus and subject changed?😅#Forgive me my son#for I have not learned to draw you from all angles yet.#Why did I make you so pretty and detailed in my head and yet have my hand betray you?!#The true tragedy is when your idea level is not at your skill level bECaUsE I KnOw wHaT hEs SuPpOsEd To LoOk LiKe BuT I CaNt DrAw HiM yEt#So here we are and I am accutely aware of how much work there is to be done. I’m looking at you flippin turtle anatomy#But hey we all have to start somewhere#so here I am#I tried and by golly I will keep trying. Vincent deserves that much 😅🧡🫡#I just looked back at this and realized I MISSED A STINKING PANEL. And Vincent’s shirt.#Flips a table in my mind#Also I’ve never made a mute character before so if anybody has notes especially about ASL PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E lemme know.#Wanna make sure I represent the peoples correctly 🫡🧡
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wish I could do the occasional ootd posts but I'm gonna be honest, I'm a neet who doesn't leave the house more than once every two weeks and I basically walk around in underwear and a shirt 99% of the time
#also I'm disabled so my running errands fit is throwing on comfy shirt and pants and getting shit done#and while I *like* putting together little outfits and doing my hair + makeup#I am so so tired just by that that I cannot to go out except super special occasions#like I know ''just wear cute outfits around the house'' but I'm mostly bedbound#ignore me I am just venting my frustrations at my body and situation bc the mind is willing but the flesh is in pain
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MOMMMMM they turned me into a south park character
#IGNORE THE FACT IM CANADIAN AND DIDNT DRAW ME CANADIAN. i forgot#south park#this is a mix of what i look like now; what i looked like 5 years ago and what i wanna look like in the future lul#ALSO all clothes i own except the autistic shirt. i want it though#first art in months and its southpark. are you proud of me#also just realized i drew my ring and bracelet on the wrong. hands. WHATEVER i dotncare
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ah. today has badwrong vibes. it’s a misery wednesday bois
#started bad with facade work being done on my apartment#forcing me to flee to a coffee shop to work for the day except it’s $7 for an iced mocha#and then I found out my other writer quit#and the main door causes massive wind drafts so there’s a sign sayin ‘use the other door’ but people keep IGNORING THE SIGN#and ALSO ALSO they didn’t put the lid onto coffee right so apparently I’ve been dripping mocha onto my white shirt for the past hour#loud whining#i want to take a nap
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ain’t afraid of a little thunder | tyler owens
“now, sweetheart… I know you didn’t come crawling in here in the middle of the night,” his gaze flickers between your shadowed, sullen face and the way your sleep shirt ends at the middle of your thighs. “just because of a little thunder?”
warnings: minors dni, 18+. smut. unprotected pinv. oral (m+f). no physical descriptions of reader except some hair pulling mentioned.
…
Blinding white light flashes, spilling through and under the gaps in the curtains. The furniture is, at once, illuminated a ghastly white. The room remains still, aside from where you lay in your bed, tangled in sheets and breathing softly.
What comes next isn’t the rolling kind of thunder that usually spills across these parts, there’s nothing slow or melodic about it. It comes as an almighty clap, shaking the old farmhouse down to its foundations.
Seemingly spurred on by the sound, the wind joins the symphony by crashing into the window, slamming at the shutters and making the two panels swing wide open.
The storm howls now, spilling through these old walls and waking you with a start. You shoot upright in bed, eyes wide and heart thundering in your ears. Rain splatters on the worn floorboards as you look frantically around your childhood bedroom.
“Shit.” You huff out, hurling yourself out of the creaky, old metal-framed bed you had spent your teenage years in. You stumble towards the whirling wind and wrestle the window shut, snapping the latch shut once again.
You had been jolted so violently from your dreams that you aren’t even sure your eyes are open until you’re staring at streaks of lightning painting the dark sky. With a trembling hand, you reach for the edge of the curtain and pull it back across the window.
Even with your view gone, as you slip back into bed it’s impossible to pretend that the storm isn’t happening. It whips at the house, making the foundations creak and groan. Every few seconds, the sky will streak bright white and will roar with another clap of thunder.
Eyes squeezed shut and the sheets pulled high isn’t cutting it. The weather rages just beyond these four walls, refusing to be ignored. Your heart thunders along with the bellowing horizon.
You toss onto your left side. Then your right. A frustrated sound slips your lips as you thrash onto your back. It’s like the storm is just getting worse. Closer.
Each flash of lightning feels brighter. Each clap of thunder feels louder. You tremble under the confines of your comforter, lips pursed. You shoot a quick look toward the little digital alarm clock on your night stand. 1:55.
Panic flares in your chest. You remember being small in this room, terrified of these same storms. The nights where you would tear out of bed and race down the hall to the safety of your parents’ bed.
You’re a little old for that now, and they chose this week of all to be vacationing at Niagara Falls.
You pull the blankets tighter around yourself, momentarily blinded by the prospect of being alone in this big, rickety house all by yourself in the path of a storm — you’re miles away from help reaching you.
But you aren’t all alone.
After a tough few days of field work, you had opened your doors — well, your parents’ doors — to a… colleague, of sorts. If that’s what you could call Tyler. You had a common goal, and he needed a place to stay while the two of you got some work done, that was all. It was easier than sending him to the motel an hour away.
He’s down the hall, probably sleeping like a baby, in the guest room.
You couldn’t possibly wake him. He would hold it over your head for the rest of your life. You would never live it down. Being a meteorologist who can’t sleep through a little—
Storm.
It’s that last, tremendous crash of thunder that sends you flying, once again, out of your childhood bed as it rattles the house. You’re cursing yourself under your breath already as you pad, barefoot down the hallway.
Past pictures of yourself missing teeth and grinning, sporting pigtails and wearing overalls — all images of yourself that you would rather the famed ‘Tornado Wrangler’ himself hadn’t seen.
The only thing that stops you is a brief moment in front of the door to the guest room, where you stand debating whether it would be better to knock or to just slip in and hope that he doesn’t even notice you.
You should knock. He could be naked. Shit.
Swallowing both your pride and the lump of solid anxiety in your throat, you close your eyes and rap your knuckles softly against the door. Maybe he doesn’t hear you over the storm, or maybe he’s just a deep sleeper, but he doesn’t answer.
You should leave him alone.
But you can’t stand the thought of being by yourself through this. What if it’s something big? — You should have checked the radar.
You’re already twisting the doorknob, as slow as you can. It complies silently, the door slipping open without a peep. You would have gotten away with it, if you had thought about the light in the hall.
You get a glimpse of him while he’s still asleep. Sprawled out across the bed, laying on his back on the side closest to the door, his hair mussed and his face turned away from you. Curtains wide open, still. His clothes are thrown on the chair in the corner. The sheets are slung low on his waist. A flash of lightning illuminates the ridges through the golden skin of his abdomen.
Then, that darned light from the hallway casts across his face and wakes him. He stirs, groaning in soft complaint as he lifts his head from the pillow and blinks angrily in your direction.
He says your name, his voice deep and growly from sleep. His tone vaguely suggests that he’s checking if it’s really you, but you’re too distracted to answer him.
Tyler twists his neck and looks around for a clock, pushing himself up just a little and letting the sheets fall to reveal the waistband of his navy boxers. “What time is it?”
“Late. Sorry,” You mumble out, still standing in his wide-open doorway like an idiot. “You should go back to sleep.”
His brows knit together as he turns his head to look at you again. Grumpy looks good on him. Especially when he’s laying in bed, his hair disheveled and his clothes on the floor.
He presses the base of his palm into his eye socket, every bit as disgruntled as he looks as he rubs the sleep away with his big hands.
“You gonna stand there and watch me all night if I do?”
Your immediate reaction is to put your hackles up and get defensive at the accusation, like that’s not kind of exactly how the situation would appear to him.
“No, I just… I couldn’t sleep.” Your answer isn’t really an answer at all. Tyler reminds you of this by simply raising his eyebrows, as if to say ‘and what might that have to do with me?’. You shrug your shoulders. “I was just coming to see if— if you were up.”
“I am now.” Tyler offers. “What did you want?”
Desperately to go back to sleep. You’re exhausted. These past few days have been some of the hardest of your life — and here you are, unable to sleep, trying to find a bed to sleep in, like a child.
You stand there, debating for a moment if you’re going to come clean. It would be easy enough to just admit your irrational little fear and crawl into bed, and deal with the constant teasing from then on.
Unfortunately, your body makes the decision for you. Thunder and lightning crash together, shaking the house once again. The rain whipping at the shutters does nothing to conceal the gasp-bordering-shriek that slips your lips as you jump and rush into the room.
Tyler’s eyes widen through the dark. His gaze is quizzical as he studies the abject panic on your face, then looks to his window. Then, he looks slowly back to you.
His mouth twitches. Excitement flashes across his face with a burst of lightning as a grin twists at his mouth.
“Now, sweetheart… I know you didn’t come crawling in here in the middle of the night,” His gaze flickers between your shadowed, sullen face and the way your sleep shirt ends at the tops of your thighs. “Just because of a little thunder?”
“Don’t be a dick about it — I know it’s ridiculous, I just can’t sleep.” You rush out, folding your arms across your chest. As you do so, your shirt bunches and rides up just enough to prove that you are, in fact, not wearing any shorts. He’d been wondering about that.
As he studies your face for the next few moments, you can see that he considers being a dick — and decides against it.
He holds his palms up in surrender, and shrugs his shoulders as he peels back the other side of the covers. Amusement coats his words as he drawls a playful, “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
Closing the door to the hallway, the room is plunged into darkness once again. You trudge around to the other side of the bed, begrudging every moment of this ridiculous night. You should have had him sleep in the barn like you had threatened to. But then you really would be all alone in this big old house.
His eyes follow your silhouette around the foot of the bed, as the sky flashes white once more he takes note of the way your cute graphic tee sits a little higher in the back, giving him just the smallest glimpse of where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.
He waits for you to reach the bed and set one knee on before he goes back to trying to rest. He lays down on his back and closes his eyes as the bed shifts slightly with your weight and the covers wriggle around with your movement.
Then, things settle.
The bed goes still, and so do the both of you as you lay side by side in it. It’s not an especially large double, but the two of you both seem to be choosing to ignore the way his warm shoulder is pressed right up against yours.
It’s just his shoulder. His bare shoulder, sure, but it’s not like you could ask him to put some clothes on — you’re the one who came crawling into his bed in your underwear. You’re just grateful that there’s just about enough room for the rest of you to not graze him at all.
You close your eyes, and inhale deeply. This whole house usually smells like lavender and vanilla, but not now. This room smells like spiced oak and pine, and the familiar smell of his cologne lingers on his clothes, his belongings— his bare skin.
His voice cuts through the dark. “So, you’re not like a bedwetter or anything, right? — D’your parents usually like give you a stuffed animal to get through this kind of thing, or—“
You reach out and smack him hard in his stomach. His hard, taught stomach. “Shut it, Owens.”
The bed rattles with his soft laughter.
“I just— I’m blindsided,” He admits, still laughing. He tucks an arm behind his head, meaning your shoulder now sits in the curve of his underarm. “You’re afraid of thunder.”
You throw yourself onto your side, turning swiftly away from him and tugging away his share of covers just out of spite. “No one will ever believe you. I’ll tell them you’re crazy.”
He grins in the dark.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not gonna tattle on you — you have no idea how much I’m enjoying being the only person who knows that Little Miss ‘Do As I Say’ gets this rattled over a little rain.”
You roll your eyes, then close them. “Goodnight, Tyler.”
The bed shakes again with another bout of his quiet laughter. “Yeah, g’night, honey.”
The pet names are going to be put to an abrupt end first thing tomorrow morning. You’re going to give him hell before he even gets a chance to open his stupid, pretty mouth. Until then, you have to keep yourself from doing anything that might have you exiled back to your own room.
Once again, the room settles. The rain whips at the windows, soaking the soil outside. Thunder rumbles closer again, but the lightning flashes don’t seem quite so bright.
You focus on the sound of him breathing. Deep, slow inhales. He’s calm as could be, his weight pressing into the mattress and his body heat radiating under the shared covers. Uncomfortable on your right side but not wanting to be facing him, you roll onto your back.
Unconsciously a few moments later, you roll back onto your right side. Maybe then your left side. After that, your back again. Then your front.
As you sigh and twist, Tyler sucks in a sharp breath from beside you.
“God damn, will you sit still? — You’re gonna spin yourself out of this bed.” It’s not until he’s done complaining that you realize he’s now holding you. His arm is secured tight enough around your middle that you couldn’t roll over again, even if you wanted to. Facing away from him, your eyes stare at the painted wall.
He huffs, closing his eyes and flexing his arm around you as he drags you closer.
“Go to sleep.” He mumbles groggily, his breath tickling at the nape of your neck.
Well, if you were struggling before, then the sentiment is entirely hopeless now.
You lie awake, watching the sky crackle and glow with flashes of colour. Tyler lies with you, feeling you flinch at every boom that follows.
He shifts suddenly behind you, feeling you go rigid.
“This thing really has you spooked, doesn’t it?” His fingers sprawl across your covered stomach, his voice coated with a softness you weren’t expecting. You feel him lift his head and peer over your shoulder, trying to get a look at your face.
“No.” You bite back, trying to tug yourself free from his hold and shift closer to the edge of the bed. You’ll be hanging off of the side if you keep this up.
“Here, c’mere,” Tyler murmurs, catching your bicep and turning you back around. Your brows furrow and your face grows stormy, and he can just tell that you’re batting up to argue with him.
He opens both of his arms and wraps them around you at once, giving you no choice but to squish against his chest. Your eyes squeeze open as he presses his lips to your hairline. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”
You stare at the freckle on his neck up close as his fingers stroke at the length of your trembling spine, frozen.
“Listen,” He mumbles against your hair as another clap of thunder tears across the sky. “Two, three, four, five — it’s already getting further away. Was just passing us by.”
“I know that.” You mumble begrudgingly against his chest, hating the way your fingers instinctively splay across his bare ribs.
Quiet falls between the two of you. You get it, he’s just trying to help — and frankly you are being a little ridiculous. He gets it, sometimes there’s no explaining fear. It’s just there.
His fingers stop at the base of your spine, disrupting the soft pattern he had going. Just for a moment, before he skims them all the way to the nape of your neck and curls them around the curve of your shoulder.
Once again, his mouth grazes your temple. Barely a kiss. Maybe even something platonic. He’s just trying to settle you. But then, there doesn’t feel like there’s much platonic about the way you’re wrapped together.
“It’s alright,” He murmurs. You can feel the rumble of his voice in your chest as he gives your nape a soft squeeze. “Breathe with me.”
Tyler takes long, deep breaths. Slow, and steady, but not patronizing. The kind that make you feel a dizzy kind of sleepy. You could fall asleep just like this, wrapped in his arms and copying his breaths, but you won’t let yourself.
You dip your head forwards just a fraction, and press your lips to his bare shoulder. It’s small, and again barely a kiss, maybe even something platonic. Just like his was. He doesn’t say anything about it, and the quiet continues for a little longer.
His thumb strokes at the column of your throat as he leans in, turning his nose towards your hair. “That’s it.”
You turn your head too, closing your lips softly around his collarbone. This one’s an inch less polite than the others, just a bit more daring, but still easy to misunderstand.
Opening up your palm, you trail your nails along his side, brushing softly from his ribs to his hips. Then, you stretch your neck and reach higher.
His fingers squeeze at your nape as your lips close against his throat. His free hand comes from its resting place against the sheets to curl around your thigh.
The tip of your nose bumps his chin in passing, he looks down while you look up until your eyes are locked together through the dark.
You would never live this down. Your work is too important to risk it all by— he’s kissing you before you’re done arguing with yourself, and your mind is made up.
His stubble scrubs at your cheek as he presses against you, capturing your mouth with his, kneading at his hold on your thigh.
Your palm presses into the muscle of his back, firm and pulling him against you. You’re the one who hikes your thigh around his hip. He’s the one who twists the two of you and plants you firmly on your back between the pillows.
And then, you’re looking at each other again.
Lightning flashes across the sky, making his green eyes glow emerald for a moment. They search across your face while his hands take hold of your hips.
He looks at you in a way he never has before, all those days working together, his eyes hungry with lust. The intensity in those pretty, green eyes sends shocks of electricity up your spine.
“Just for tonight, and we never speak of this again.” You breathe, eyes wide as you stare up at him. Tyler’s lips twitch.
“You’re gonna regret those terms.” He promises, letting that cocky grin of his twist across his mouth, raising his brows in challenge. You swallow, narrowing your eyes back at him. “But, sure. Whatever you say.”
Right as you’re starting to think that maybe this isn’t worth its risk, he leans forwards and turns your head to the side, closing his mouth around your pulse point.
His teeth graze against the spot, just sharp enough of a sting to make you gasp before he’s pressing against you harder, kissing harder, soothing his mark with his tongue.
The tip of his angled nose bumps the curve of your jaw, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin. You hike your leg higher around his waist, pressing your foot into his thigh. His tongue dips from between his lips, flicking across your jugular before he captures the spot with his mouth.
Your fingers curl around his neck, squeezing at his nape, holding his mouth against your throat. A moan slips your lips as his teeth graze over your skin. He sucks a firm kiss into the spot below your ear.
He hums as your fingers slide up into his hair, rewarding you with another open-mouthed kiss in a spot that makes you squirm. Your eyes close contentedly as his mouth works against the smooth skin there.
When the next crash of thunder shakes the foundations, you almost forget to flinch.
Tyler twists his head sharply and with a sudden, mutual urgency, you crash together. He pulls you flush against him, sliding his tongue into your mouth and caressing it expertly against yours.
Then, his attention turns to the large, old local team jersey you had worn to bed. It was the first thing you had found in your closet. He doesn’t seem to care, bunching it around your middle and tugging you forwards to lift it over your head.
Lightning strikes as the jersey hits the floor. As his knees sit between your thighs, Tyler studies your body. He has thought about this before, what you might look like under all that office-wear. His imagination doesn’t compare.
He sits back on his knees, cupping his palm over the tent straining against his boxer-briefs. Your gaze flickers downward, eye-lids drooping with want as you watch him palm a hand over his cock.
“Don’t move.” He mumbles, reaching out to settle his other hand against the soft curve of your bare waist. It’s clear that he has a plan in his head, you can practically hear the gears turning as his darkened eyes study your body.
Stroking himself carelessly, he drops his hand to the inside of your thigh and pushes it back just a bit. Then, Tyler groans as he lowers his mouth to your chest. One of his warm, weathered hands comes up to caress your breast while his mouth cares for the other.
He kisses softly over the swell of skin, more gentle than you would have expected someone like him to be. He glances up at you as he purses his lips and blows softly, fanning cool air against your already half-hardened nipple.
Then, that talented tongue dips from his lips again, and traces the colour of your nipple, flicking back and forth across the bud before he finally closes his mouth around it.
Your head sinks into the pillows as your chest arches eagerly toward his kisses. Moans spill from your lips, and you just know that you’ll be soaked by the time he finally touches you.
He doesn’t keep you waiting long. Amidst his parade of kisses, as he’s approaching your navel, his hand dips between your legs. You almost flinch at the contact, keening into his touch instead.
His fingertips are featherlight, trailing the seams of your underwear where they sit between your thighs. His thumb presses firmer, experimentally sliding between your folds.
Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance down as he looks up at you. His mouth twists as your excitement spills through the lace against the pad of his thumb.
This is most definitely territory that neither one of you have business venturing into. It’s certainly going to make your next venture a little bit more tense than usual. The irony of it being your common venture that had led you here isn’t lost on either of you either.
Tyler makes it known that he has every intention of bringing his usual cockiness to this encounter, smirking as he presses his mouth to your hipbone, circling his thumb softly over your clit.
Bright, white lightning streaks again outside the window. It bathes the farm you grew up on in sudden, harsh light. The rumble of thunder doesn’t come until Tyler’s sucking a mark into the inside of your thigh— he was right, it is getting further away.
And he’s getting closer.
You gasp sharply as he opens his lips and dives forwards, mouthing at your soaked core through the flimsy constraints of your lace underwear.
The next streak of lightning catches all of the shadows in the muscles of his back, working and flexing as he peels your underwear down your thighs. He kisses the length of your legs, nipping and biting as he goes, tossing the lace to some far corner of the room as soon as he’s done.
Your fingers shoot into his hair, squeezing firmly as he buries his face between your legs. Eager and animalistic, he sucks and licks, holding your thighs over his strong shoulders. You shudder. He groans as you tug at his sandy roots.
As you have found with everything else he does, Tyler’s ginormous ego seems to be well-founded. He has every bit the right to be so confident.
Though, you’ll never admit that outside of these four walls.
He doesn’t need you to. The way your body thrashes and arches against his mouth tells him all he needs to know.
You hum softly like you haven’t been moaning openly into the chilled room, tugging at his short locks once again. He groans into your excitement. At once, ring finger slides into you alongside his middle. He curls them both into you.
The sharp gasp it draws from you goes straight to his cock, eliciting another deep groan from his chest as he grinds himself against the patterned sheets.
All you can do is breathe, heels pressing into the mattress as you chase his mouth. Unhindered whimpers spilling from your lips as he works his fingers into you. It feels better than good. Incredible, even.
For the sake of your dignity, you’re grateful to lack the ability to tell him how good this feels.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Tyler takes a break to nip at your thighs and coax you towards the finish line you’re already desperate to cross. He looks up at you from between your legs. Your head is thrown back into the pillows, your muscles tensed and trembling. You’re fucking yourself on his fingers. “Take what you need. You gonna get yourself there?”
Then, he leans down and licks one stripe along your core, making you cry out. “Or you need me to do it for you?”
“God, you’re an asshole,” You rush out, brows furrowing in concentration as you desperately chase that high. He chuckles softly, leaving you hanging as he waits for your answer. “Yes! Alright? — I need you.”
Tyler takes that answer with delight, pinning your thigh back against your middle with sudden strength as his fingers twist into you. You shiver as his mouth takes charge once again.
It doesn’t take him long to blind you with your orgasm, your eyes balled shut so tight that you’re seeing stars. You’re trembling as he’s kissing across your stomach
He licks his lips, still grinning as you drag his glistening mouth back to yours. Meeting you with exactly the same fervor, rolling his hips into yours. You groan at the gentle scratch of his stubble, holding him close.
“Fuck me.” You mumble against his lips, trying to reach between your bodies to push down his boxer-briefs. Your fingertips graze his straining cock, stilling immediately. You glance down, eyes wide as you take note of his size.
“I don’t have a condom.” He mumbles back, kissing you hard before you have enough time to comment on what he’s been packing beneath that stupid, huge buckle this whole time.
“You— You don’t?” You pant, trailing your nails down his back as he sucks at your throat.
“Didn’t think I’d be needing one.” His hands skim up your middle and grab at your tits together, kneading them in his capable hands. He drops his head to suck at the tops of them, his stubbled cheeks scratching at the sensitive skin in the best way.
You almost growl in frustration, thighs trying to clamp together around his hips. You don’t want the night to end here.
“I’m on birth control. If you’re—“
“I’m responsible, we’re good.” Tyler swears, flicking his tongue across your pebbled nipple. “If that’s what you want, baby. You want me bare?”
Your core throbs at his deep voice, so close and so filthy.
“Yes.” You whisper, arching your chest into his mouth as he turns his head to pay equal attention to your other breast. “Fuck, yes.”
He finally pays himself some attention, sitting back on his knees and dipping his hand into his boxers. Your lips part, watching through lust-hooded eyes as he fists at his cock from between your legs.
“Take them off.” You demand, more urgently than you’ve been before. Tyler’s lips twitch, but you’re not letting him have this one without playing first. “You’re not shy, are you?”
He rolls his shoulders back, giving a slow and certain shake of his head. No, of course he isn’t shy. Why would he be?
Your mouth goes dry as he pushes the boxers down his thighs and kicks them off of the bed. His cock springs free, standing to attention against the trail of sandy brown hair that trails Tyler’s navel.
It’s impressive, and pink at the tip. Annoyingly as pretty as the rest of him is.
He looks carved from stone, kneeling between your legs with broad shoulders and a chiseled chest. Hair sprawling across his pecs neatly, and just down his sternum. The same kind of pretty light brown as his hair. Angled hipbones. He’s defined all over, with strong thighs to match.
“You have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been wanting to do this.” Tyler’s admission catches you by surprise, and the shock of it is just registering in your system as he leans down and covers your body with his.
His weight leaning against you feels better than you’d like to admit, caging you in. The storm feels far, far away.
The tip of his cock notches at your entrance and you forget all of the doubts you just had about what he had said.
“So, do it. Please,” You breathe out, turning your face towards his neck, kissing the vein that trails there. “I want it.”
Tyler revels in the desperate sound you make as he drags his cock between your folds, his lip between his teeth as he watches the tip sink into you. He really has been waiting a long time for this.
He had made the effort in the beginning, tested your boundaries and swung by your motel rooms every now and again. Every interaction you’ve had has been strictly professional, and he wasn’t going to keep chasing someone who didn’t want to be chased.
As your walls squeeze him tight and your mouth sucks at the column of his throat— fuck, he wishes he had chased a little harder.
You roll your hips into his eagerly, gasping as he pulls almost all the way out and drives back in. You trail your nails along his shoulders, squeezing your thighs around his hips. Thunder rumbles somewhere far away, deep and low like the sounds of Tyler’s groans.
“You feel like you’re fucking made for me.” He mutters, pressing his fingertips into the supple flesh of your ass as he hugs you as close as he possibly can. Buried in you as deeply as he possibly can be, he stills for a moment and pants hard.
You make an incoherent sound of vague agreement, nipping at the curve of his jaw as you rake your nails along his shoulder. He groans at the feeling, his hips stuttering.
Pulling out slowly one last time, Tyler glances down at where the two of you are joined. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he buries himself into you once again, hard this time. Then, he’s relentless, dragging against your walls as he bottoms out again and again.
The old bed creaks in complaint under the two of you, but it’s the furthest thing from your mind as your moans threaten to muffle the sound all together.
The sky rumbles again, another loud clap of thunder making your eyes snap open. Breathless, your head whips towards the window. You watch the streaks of lightning paint the sky shades of electric blue and white.
Again, that irrational feeling starts to gnaw at you.
Tyler’s fingers curl around your chin, turning you back to face him.
“Look at me,” He orders, giving a sharp snap of his hips and revelling in the way it makes your mouth fall open. “I’ve got you. Just keep looking at me.”
Dumbly, you nod your head. Your fingertips skim the ridges of muscle in his arms. Warm and strong under your touch, his body surrounds yours. His green eyes are focused and unwavering, his hands anchoring your hips to the bed.
There’s no room left for that stupid, irrational feeling. It’s all him. Fucking into you, and staring down at you, weighing you down into the creaky mattress.
You arch your back, pushing your chest up against his as he fills you up. Tyler’s hand abandons your hip to hook around the back of your shoulders, grabbing a firm fistful of your hair.
His other hand shoves hard at the back of your thigh, bending it up and out of his way. Your ankle rests against his shoulder, your mind going blank as this new position allows him to angle himself deeper.
“Fuck— Tyler.” You whimper, eyes wide as you look up at him.
His hand flexes around your roots, tugging hard and making you cry out. You muffle yourself in the crook of his neck, kissing at his salty skin.
“I’m gonna come.” You breathe out.
“Yeah?” He murmurs, lips grazing your ear as his thrusts grow deep and fast. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Make yourself come on me.”
You don’t need to be told twice, grabbing onto his shoulder for leverage with one hand as the other dips between your colliding bodies.
His mouth is hot against your throat as you circle your clit, his deep and desperate groans filling your ears, the smell of his sweat and faint cologne making you want to bury closer to him.
It isn’t long before you’re spilling over that edge. You bite at his throat, moaning at the way he keens desperately into the feeling. Your thighs squeeze around him, trembling through the feeling. Your fingers scramble for purchase against his bicep.
Tyler grunts hard as your body tenses all over, your walls squeezing him tight. His pace stutters just briefly, then picks up. Your brain feels like mush, your eyes rolling back as he fucks you hard.
His head falls forwards, resting against your collarbone as he cums hard. His fingers flex around both your thigh, and the nape of your next, his voice strained as he groans. His chest heaves with his next few breaths.
You sigh, contented as you turn your face towards his neck and close your eyes. He lingers there for a moment, covering you like a blanket, gently stroking the spots he had grabbed so tightly moments before.
Then, he pulls out of you with a sigh and turns to flop onto his back. You’re surprised as he drags you with him, eyes wide at the prospect of the famed ‘Tornado Wrangler’ being a cuddler of all things.
He turns your head toward him, wasting no time in capturing your mouth with his. “How are you feeling?”
You smile hazily, turning your face towards his bare shoulder for a moment. “Tired.”
He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you lie there for a few moments, catching your breath and enjoying the comfortable silence. His fingers trail the length of your spine, swirling soft patterns into your skin.
You almost let yourself fall asleep like that. He makes room for you to get up and watches you walk away as you excuse yourself to the bathroom.
He’s silent, but there’s a smile on his face when you slide back into his bed instead of your own.
When the sun-rises and pours through the window, it wakes you first. You would complain about the curtains being wide open and the lack of sleep you had managed to get through the night, but it’s hard to when you turn and admire your view.
Tyler is asleep on his back, one arm outstretched toward you. You had been sleeping on top of it. The sheets are strewn messily around his middle and there’s a distinct purple mark at the base of his throat, a reminder of where your mouth had been.
His chest rises and falls steadily, his face calm. His hair is still disheveled, another reminder from last night. He looks even more beautiful in the daylight.
Then, you remember what you said. Never again. How he had promised you would regret those terms— and you already do, thinking of how you’d like to wake him and repeat last night.
Unprompted, Tyler stirs in his sleep. In doing so, he shifts his hips and announces his morning wood as it stands against the sheets.
Given that you’re still in the same room, and it’s still technically the same day, this surely doesn’t count as a separate encounter. Your terms could still stand, you reason with yourself as you lean down and kiss his shoulder.
He doesn’t flinch. In fact, he doesn’t stir at all as you kiss your way down his muscled chest.
His brows knit together as he starts to come to. He blinks through the abrupt morning light, squinting at the brightness as he remembers where he is. He jolts at the feeling of you mouthing along the length of his cock, eyes going wide.
He takes note, then, of the shape under the covers that sits between his legs. He peels them back slowly, meeting your gaze as you kiss his tip.
“Good morning.” You greet him cheekily.
Tyler quirks a brow, but smiles. He shifts his hips and tucks a flexing bicep behind his head, settling back down against the pillows.
“It is now.”
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BLOODTHIRSTY
PAIRING: logan howlett x vampire mutant!female reader
RATING: mature | WORD COUNT: 990
SUMMARY
when your next shipment of blood won’t be delivered to the x mansion for another two days, logan offers to help keep you fed.
part two, animal instinct
WARNINGS/TAGS
typical vampire themes (blood, biting), no use of y/n, reader being picked up, grinding, kissing
LINKS
masterlists | support for palestine
You're pacing the length of the kitchen, filled with anxious energy. There's a pit in your stomach, a gnawing pain that's keeping you awake and lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling wasn't helping.
You hear footsteps in the hall and pause, watching as the thick wooden door opens and Logan steps into the kitchen, flicking the light switch and bathing the room in brightness that hurts your eyes. He raises an eyebrow when he sees you.
"Can't sleep either?" he asks, sauntering further into the room. He's fully dressed, a tight white t-shirt stretching across his defined chest and biceps and a pair of jeans hugging his legs, covering boots that click against the tile with each step. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his neck, to the thin skin that covers his fluttering pulse, but you look away quickly in shame.
"Too hungry," you reply. He looks around the room.
"Well, you're in the right place for eating. There's plenty of food."
"Not the kind I need."
He tilts his head, assessing you. "You some kind of vampire or something?"
"Or something," you reply, dancing around the truth. You're not sure what you are, not exactly, but Charles has helped you unlock enough information to get by. "Anyway, Charles said the next shipment should be here in a couple days. I just have to make it until then."
"I could help you out," Logan suggests. You raise your eyebrows at him.
"Absolutely not," you snap. You move to leave, walking past him, but he wraps a hand around your arm to stop you.
"Why not? You can't kill me. You won't even leave a mark."
"You don't know what you're offering, Logan."
"I got a pretty good idea," he says with a huff of laughter. "You're a predator. I know what it's like to suppress that side of yourself."
You don't know much about Logan. He hasn't been at the X Mansion for very long, but he's made quite the impression among the staff. You can see why -- he's charming, handsome, rough around the edges. You know of his abilities but you don't know him, not really, and the fact that he's offering himself for your hunger is planting nasty seeds of suspicion in your brain.
"I can't," you whisper. He steps closer.
"Why not? Afraid you'll get addicted, sweetheart?"
He's goading you, tempting you. Your gums ache with the need to bite, to feed, to fill yourself full and find sweet relief from the pain of hunger. He pulls you closer and your treacherous body obeys, ignoring the warnings from your logical brain.
"Come on," he says. "You'll feel better."
It's been a long time since you've fed from a living person, having grown so used to the donor blood Charles is able to obtain for you through various channels, but the muscle memory is there.
You're chest to chest with Logan now, pressed so tightly to him that you can feel his heart pounding against you, can hear the rush of blood in his veins. He smells like the woods and smoke, an earthy combination that makes you a little lightheaded. He wraps an arm around your waist.
"You want it?" he asks. You nod. "Do it, then. I've got you."
You're helpless to it now, nothing in your mind except survival instinct demanding to be fulfilled. The prick of pain as your mouth grows crowded with longer, sharper teeth meant to tear and ravage and maim. You lean into him, running your lips against warm skin and relishing in the sharp breath he takes at the contact.
Like any predator, you give no warning, sinking your teeth into his flesh. Blood rushes over your tongue, warm and lush, invading your senses. His heavy palm settles on the back of your neck, cradling you to him, and the intimacy of it pulls a moan from deep in your chest.
"Fuck," Logan growls, his other hand tight on your hip. You lift your head to ask if he's okay, but the words are lost when he bends his knees and grabs the back of your thighs with both hands, urging you up. He settles you on the counter, fitting himself between your spread legs.
"Again," he demands, eyes wild and teeth bared in a snarl. You switch to the other side of his neck, biting down hard. He moans, loud and deep, hips flexing into yours. You can feel the hard length of his cock through his jeans and the friction against your core makes you whine and writhe against him.
You drag yourself away from him, licking your lips. His pupils are blown wide, the black of them nearly engulfing the gorgeous hazel of his irises. His gaze drops to your lips and he leans in, kissing you like a hungry animal, trying to devour you in turn.
He pulls away from you, begins to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. You grow tense, the sudden realization that Logan's favor has devolved into something more hitting you like a ton of bricks.
You push him away by the shoulder and he stares at you with a furrowed brow, confusion coloring his features. His chest heaves with breath and his mouth is stained red, lips kiss bitten and slick. The wounds you would have left behind have already closed, leaving no trace of you on his skin. You swallow around the lump in your throat.
"Thank you, Logan," you whisper. You ease yourself down from the counter, the man stepping back slightly to give you space. "Goodnight."
He clears his throat. "Right. Hope you can sleep now."
"I hope you can, too."
You leave the kitchen, the weight of his stare on your back not lifting until you're in the hall and can take a deep breath. When you return to your room, you still can't sleep.
But it's no longer because of hunger.
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting, I’d love to hear from you 💕
Divider by @/saradika-graphics
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Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader
I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror
It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.
Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.
Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.
It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?
You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.
Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.
Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ
You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.
It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.
The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.
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#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere imagines#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster x reader#monster x human#terato#teratophillia#doodle#yandere horror#yancore#yandere aesthetic#tentacle monster#monster fucker#monster romance#yandere computer
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Almost Kisses
Summary : Bucky's kisses have become a daily part of your life together, but it wasn’t always that way.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her)
Warnings : very slight mention of food and mild cursing
Requested by : @buckys-wintersoldier
Word count : 1.8k
Note : This one was very fun! I was listening to Work Song By Hozier while writing this, so it's safe to say the song served as a bit of inspiration, too. I did say it would be >1k word blurb but I have once again got over the limit.
Requests are open!
Kissing you had become second nature to Bucky. Every morning when he woke up, every night before bed. It was part of his routine, it felt as natural as breathing. He kissed you when he passed you in the kitchen, when you laughed at something ridiculous, when you weren’t paying attention. He kissed you just because he could.
It was hard for him to remember a time before that, but once, kissing you had seemed impossible.
The first time the thought even crossed his mind, you were standing outside his apartment door, trying to get his attention. Sam had called you, worried about him after days of radio silence, days of ignoring texts and phone calls from both him and his therapist.
Sam could get through to Bucky on most days, but on the really hard ones, when the weight of his past pulled him under the covers and refused to let him go, there was only one person who could reach him. You.
Somehow, Bucky had imprinted on you in a way he never had with anyone else. Sam wasn’t stupid— he knew that Bucky was down hard for you. Hell, everyone who ever saw the two of you interact knew that Bucky was in love with you. Everyone except you.
Because love had to keep you blind like that, at least for a while.
"Bucky?" Your voice was soft that day, muffled by the door separating you from him. You knocked again, gentler this time. "I brought you pizza. Just cheese, no toppings—your favorite." You paused, like you were waiting for signs of life, anything, but the silence was deafening. You lowered your voice, a whisper now. "I cut off the burnt bits, the way you like it."
The door creaked open, just a sliver of light pouring in from the apartment. Bucky's figure stood in the shadow, his frame filling the doorway, but his voice was small and frail. "Extra cheese?"
"Of course, Buck." Your lips curved up knowing you’ve essentially made it in. You slipped inside the moment he stepped back.
That night, you didn’t leave his side. You pulled him out of the dark waters he had drowned himself in. He told you about his nightmares, the memories that wouldn’t let him breathe. You listened, laughed when he cracked the odd dark joke, and cried while exchanging stories. Minutes blurred into hours, and eventually, you fell asleep beside him on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder.
That was the night he realized what you did to him. You didn’t just pull him out of his pit of despair— you made him feel alive. Electric.
The next morning, you took a shower, borrowing one of his shirts since yours were dirty. Seeing you in his oversized clothes twisted something inside him, drove him insane with wild thoughts— he almost said something, but bit his tongue to stop the flow of words that would have been unstoppable. When you hugged him goodbye, he held on just a second too long, his arms tightened around you, hesitating to let go and wishing he could stay in the safety of your embrace forever. And for just a heartbeat, he stared at your lips. He almost gave in, almost kissed you right then and there, but he shoved the thought away at the last second. Why would you ever want to kiss someone like him?
The second time he almost kissed you was at the ice rink in Central Park. It was the holiday season, and this year Bucky realised that he didn’t need to spend it alone anymore. He invited you out, convincing himself it wasn’t a date— just two friends hanging out, doing friend things.
You were hesitant, admitting you couldn’t skate and that the ice never seemed to agree with you, but he insisted.
"You can hold onto me," he teased, though he left out telling you how much he wanted you to. Just to feel you close. Just for you to embrace him again.
"Buck!" you squealed when he picked up speed, your hands clutching his jacket tight around your fist in a death grip. "You’re going way too fast!"
He laughed, slowing to a stop in the middle of the rink. The moonlight between trees shrouded the two of you. You stumbled into his chest, your fingers curling into his coat. For a second, you didn’t move. You stayed there, taking in his scent. "What would I do without you?" you murmured into his chest, voice barely above a whisper.
In that moment, he realised that you weren’t just his friend out of pity— You made him feel wanted. Needed.
His hands found your cheeks, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. He could almost taste how your lips would feel— soft, warm, perfect. His breath hitched, his body taking control. But then, just as quickly, he put his logical mind back in the pilot seat. He pulled away. Why would you want to kiss someone who’d been broken as many times as him?
The third time he thought about kissing you, he could’ve sworn you wanted it, too. You were on one of your usual runs and morning coffee— your ritual together. It happened once or twice a week when he wasn’t whisked away to some strange land for a mission.
Bucky always slowed his pace to match yours. He didn’t mind since he could spend those extra moments near you.
After the runs, you’d get coffee together. He talked about everything—his life in the 40s, his family, Steve, his friends from school.
You gave him pieces of his humanity back with every conversation. With you, he felt more than a soldier— you made him feel more organic. Human.
He felt that, for once, he was more interesting than the winter soldier.
He then talked about wanting a small pet, maybe a dog, or a white cat.
"What, am I not companion enough?" you had teased.
His ears burned, and the super soldier found himself stammering. "That’s not what I meant."
You laughed as you brushed coffee foam off his facial hair. The briefest touch and his heart started racing out of control.
He could've sworn you leaned in just slightly, almost instinctively. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to. But again, he pushed it down, convincing himself that the two of you were just friends.
The day after, he found himself lying on the couch, thoughts spiraling. He couldn’t stop thinking about you— your lips, your laugh, your touch. He didn’t know what to make of it. The feelings ate away at his sanity, and they wouldn’t go away. For the first time, he asked himself the question he was too afraid to ask: was this how it felt to be truly, deeply, and desperately in love?
Then came the knock.
He opened the door, and there you were, looking as tired as he felt. Your hair was a mess, your clothes crumpled, and you looked like you haven’t slept since he saw you yesterday, but you were still so goddamn beautiful. You had this infectious wild energy, like you were on the edge of discovering the secret to world peace.
"I’ve been thinking all night," you said, stepping inside the gap he had open. That was how welcome you felt in his space, how comfortable he was with you. "If I’m wrong, this is going to be so embarrassing, but— three times. You almost kissed me three times."
Bucky blinked, caught off-guard.
"That night with the pizza, when I said goodbye," you continued, pacing around the room in deep thought. "The ice rink. And yesterday at the coffee shop." You held up three fingers at his face, your hands trembling slightly. "Three times is too much to be a coincidence. Three times is too much to just accidentally lean in. Please, tell me you’ve thought about it. Tell me you’ve wanted to kiss me because—" You stopped, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Because I’ve thought about it too."
Your voice was shaky. Bucky had never seen you so vulnerable, so uncertain. So hopeful.
"This is so embarrassing," you muttered, your voice now barely a whisper. But before you could say anything else, Bucky closed the distance between you. He grabbed you by the waist and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate rush. All the hesitations melted away from the tension in his muscles, and it was better than he’d imagined a thousand times. He didn’t know how it was possible, but you tasted even sweeter than he had dreamed. His hands tangled in your hair as you stood on tiptoes, clutching him as if he might slip away.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, you whispered in disbelief, "So I was right."
Bucky smiled, finger running along your skin, in a sensory attempt to remind him the was all real and not just one of his fantasies. "Only took you half a year to notice."
You laughed softly, melting into his touch. "I could say the same for you."
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. "Shush," he whispered between kisses. He was addicted now. He needed his fix. He needed your touch, your warmth, your lips on his. Again, and again, and again.
And that was more than a year ago. Now, Bucky still couldn’t stop kissing you. If anything, it had only gotten worse, not that you were complaining.
He kissed you every chance he got. When you rolled over in bed, still half asleep, he kissed your forehead. When you stretched in the kitchen, reaching for a mug for your afternoon tea, he kissed the back of your neck. When you came home late from work, tired but smiling, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you breathless, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.
"Buck," you laughed, stopping his train of thought, playfully trying to squirm away as he pulled you onto his lap. "We’re supposed to be watching a movie."
His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear. "But I’d rather kiss you."
You were powerless against him, as you always are. Laughing softly, you said, "You know, you kiss me every day. Aren’t you tired of me yet?"
He pulled back just enough to look at you, reminding himself of how lucky he was that he had you here. That if it wasn’t for you storming into his apartment in a frenzy with a theory, you wouldn’t be here in his arms. "Never." His voice was so soft, making your breath hitch.
You were about to say something smart, but Bucky stopped you with another kiss, his lips gentle and loving, yet there was such a fiery passion beneath. You curled into him, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, the movie long forgotten.
He stared at you, thumb brushing the side of your face, as if memorizing every detail. "I’m never gonna stop kissing you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was a little rough, his throat dry from the taste of you. "I don’t think I could, even if I tried."
And you believed him.
-end
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x female reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#Sebastian stan#Sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes one shot
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⊹₊⟡⋆♡ oh, nothing! just bitchy!kook!reader walking around the house in nothing but rafe’s favorite heels after he decides talking on the phone with his friends is more important than paying attention to his girl..
warnings: bratty behavior, rafe being sexually frustrated lol, groping, heavy teasing, suggestive ending
a/n: just a little something on the shorter side because these 2k+ wc fics have done their number on me lol
you rolled your eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips as rafe’s laughter echoed from upstairs. he has been on a three way call with kelce and topper for going on an hour now, and while you usually didn’t care, he had you waiting for him downstairs in full glam and an empty tummy. this is what you get when you try to play nice and put your catty attitude to the side for one night; a negligent boyfriend who had no care for anything else in the world except for what him and his idiot friends were rambling on about. your impatience is what lead you to be in the position you were in right now; naked and ignoring rafe as he followed you around the house, begging you to give him the slightest amount of attention.
“we can go get dinner now, okay?! i was just listening to topper vent about ruthie, i swear i wasn’t ignoring you!” he refrained from stopping you in your tracks, his cock stirring in his pants when he watched the way your hips swayed with every step. “oh, really?” you spun around, your boyfriend’s eyes falling down to your bare chest, “not responding to me when i called you downstairs like a thousand times wasn’t you ignoring me?” rafe opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when you walked away from him again. this time he watched you round the corner of the hallway, making your way into the kitchen before cursing under his breath.
you could tell you were driving rafe insane by the way he was gripping the kitchen island, his knuckles white with tension. “so, what? you’re just going to walk around like that?” he asked, his eyes burning into your skin. you shrugged, bending over the counter with a look in your eyes that made him want to wrap a fist in your hair and take you right there. “too bad you were busy with your friends earlier.. i actually wanted to be the sweet girlfriend tonight and give you dessert after dinner. oh well..” you pouted, walking past him as you flipped your hair over your shoulder. why were you like this? toxic, bitchy, mean, but still irresistible, sexy, and perfect?
“it won’t happen again, i promise.” rafe was hypnotized as he watched you walk into the living room, your heels clicking against the floor as your boyfriend pleaded with you to let him take you upstairs. “maybe the neighbors would appreciate the view a lot more than you do—” you barely touched the curtains before your boyfriend snatched you away from the large window. “that’s enough.” he said through gritted teeth, his gruff voice just right below your ear. suppressing the butterflies from fluttering in your tummy, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “that poor excuse of an apology isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” rafe chuckled, his hands feeling like fire on your hips.
“let me show you how sorry i am..” he turned you around, his cock aching as he could now feel your tits pressing against him through his shirt. he was making it really hard for you to keep up your act. “acting like a little brat, i know exactly what you need right now.” you gasped when you felt him take a handful of your ass, his bruising grip only exciting you further. “and what is that?” you leaned in, feeling the last of your resolve crumble when he took your hand to feel him through the denim of his jeans. “it’s so hard for you, baby,” he nearly moaned, lowering his tone, “and i’m still so hungry..”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!kook!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#drew starkey
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SIT STILL, matt sturniolo
synopsis… you physically cannot stay still no matter how hard you try. your other friends are used to your high energy and usually don’t mind it, all except one. matt’s probably the only person who can get you to calm down. kinda.
warnings… puppy!reader, mean!matt, unprotected p in v (be smart🌚), cockwarming, little bit of a praise kink, little bit of nipple play, big dick!matt, orgasm denial
@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3
“i feel like my stomach hates me right now” nick groans. he laid back on to the couch with an uncomfortable look on his face as he rubbed his stomach over his shirt. “not gonna lie my tummy s’grumbling too,” chris says.
you were probably hungry as-well but your brain blocked out the dull ache as you were hyper focused on the movie playing in front of you. your leg bounced rapidly as your fingers curled tighter onto the couch cushion. matt rolls his eyes, “she’s not even paying attention, just go and i’ll ask her later,” he says.
it’s true. you weren’t paying attention. you heard shuffling from both sides of you before seeing nick and chris get up in your peripheral vision. a hand waved in your face causing you to snap out of the trance and look up at chris. “don’t piss him off too much, ‘kay?” he smiles. you return the toothy grin then turned back to the screen.
as the door shut, you felt eyes burning into the side of your head. matt scoffs before getting up and walking to his room. not even ten minutes pass before a commercial interrupts your movie causing you to slightly whine. you tried to entertain yourself with your phone but it didn’t last thirty seconds before you tossed it and groaned in boredom. you looked around the empty room then got up in search of matt.
as you creeped closer to his cracked door, you heard a string of profanity’s leave his lips. you slightly pushed the door open, widening the view of matt’s face being illuminated by his pc. “yeah we need a minute to like— chill for a sec,” he says.
you pushed the door open further with a smile on your face as you waltzed into his room. matt completely ignored your presence as he scrolled through the item shop, mumbling whatever lyrics were playing through his headphones. “whatcha doing?” you ask as you flatten your palms on his desk.
as you pushed your self closer to view his screen, you were unknowingly giving him a perfect view of your tits being smushed together. he lets out a small breathy chuckle as he takes a quick glance then returns his focus. a pout formed onto your face at the lack of attention. you move closer to matt then start pawing at his shirt before letting your fingers trail up to the nape of his neck.
your fingers danced between his curls gently then you found the sudden urge to yank a little too harsh. a groan falls from matt’s lips as his eyes squeeze shut as he let his head fall back. you let out a small giggle before you yelped as matt roughly pulls you into his lap. you felt his body heat on your back and the growing bulge that nestled right between your legs.
“so fucking annoying,” he mutters before going back to scrolling. you whined and squirmed as you tried to twist yourself to face him but all you did was cause his dick to harden and grow even more. a slap landed on your bare thigh. matt grips your jaw and forces your head to face him. “can you sit still for one god damn second?” he says.
“m’bored—“ you whined. matt tugs at your pouted lip with his thumb before releasing your face with a scoff. “so go finish the movie,” he replies. you let out a huff as you went back to squirming and eventually found yourself slightly bouncing. a deep groan rumbled through matt’s chest as his grip on the mouse grew tighter.
matt pushes you off him, “don’t wanna behave?”, he says, “strip”. you look at him through your wide eyes with excitement, if you had a tail it would’ve knocked over the things on his desk. matt watched you pull your clothes off as his eyes grew more dark. he slightly pulled his sweatpants down just enough to reveal his aching cock.
the second your panties were off, matt pulls you back on top of him. you hissed at the stretch but made no move to remove yourself. “that’s it, good— girl” he says in a low voice. you felt matt rub small circles on your skin in a comforting way as your tried adjusting to his size. “alright i’m back” you heard a voice say from his headset.
you tried to roll your hips but a firm grip on your waist prevented you from moving. “behave,” he says before unmuting his mic. matt acted as if you weren’t even there while he played his game. his character ended up getting shot causing him to thrust his hips deeply into you as he yelled at the screen. a mewl left your lips but you covered your mouth quickly, in fear of being heard.
“yo kid, you good?” you heard a voice say. matt glared down at you then gave you a tight squeeze before responding. you were trying so hard not to moan but every time matt jolted or shifted the slightest, he brushed against that spongy spot inside you. his hand traveled up to your tits, allowing his fingers to roll your sensitive nipples.
“matt–“ you whimpered. your chest rose and fell rapidly as the urge to move grew more prominent. a devilish smirk painted his face as he tugged and pinched. your warm walls pulsated, hugging his cock even more causing him to hiss in pleasure. your skin was sticky from your own arousal, a wet patch grew on matt’s sweatpants. you jutted your hips as your brain grew more fuzzy then stuffed your mouth with your fingers.
drool escaped down your hand as muffled moans and whines attempt to fall. you felt the vibration of matt’s laugh shoot straight to your core. “awe— poor puppy just wanted to be played with, yeah?” he coos. you nod your head as you let your hips rock faster with a tight pressure building by the second.
you dropped both your hands to the desk and curled your fingers in attempt to steady yourself. right as you were on the brink of your release, matt pulls you off him. you whined at the lost orgasm and tried to get back on him but his tight grip on your waist prevented you. “i said t’sit still, didn’t i?” matt says with a smirk.
#matt sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#𝓜𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝓢.#𝓜𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝓢. ♡ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡#𝓜𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝓢. ♡ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠
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𝐝 𝐚 𝐲 𝐥 𝐢 𝐠 𝐡 𝐭 ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆ nicholas a. chavez
playing: 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 by taylor swift 𝜗𝜚˚。˚ ⋆
synopsis! reader woke up late for work but nicholas, your boyfriend, wishes to stay in bed longer..
paring: nicholas chavez x fem!reader
warnings: lots of fluff , sexual content + unprotected sex! oral (f! receiving) , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)
word count: 2,500
⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆
Soft sunlight filters through the thin slats of your bedroom window shades, casting patterns of light and shadow across the room. It’s not abrupt, but rather a slow increase in brightness that touches your closed eyelids, warming your skin and pulling you out of your dream. The room becomes bathed in a soft, golden glow, and as you blink awake, the light feels like a quiet reminder of the world waiting outside.
However, behind you with an arm draped around your waist and soft snores coming from his slightly parted lips laid your boyfriend, Nicholas, making you want to tell the world to fuck off, turn off the lights, and try again another day.
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed your eyes and stretched your arms making a half-asleep Nicholas stir. You smile softly and turn to face him with his eyes still shut. You ran your fingers through his tousled hair, briefly wondering how bad your own must look, before softly whispering, “Good morning.”
He hums softly, wrapping his hand around your wrist as it rests in his hair and brings it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss to your pulse. In a raspy voice, he murmurs, “Good morning, baby.”
“How’d you sleep?” You ask, your voice still low, not wanting to disrupt the stillness of this peaceful moment. It’s only Nick’s second time spending the night in your New York City apartment, the first just two nights ago.
He exhales peacefully, drawing you closer until your legs are tangled with his. “Your bed feels like sleeping on a cloud,” he murmurs.
You giggle at the sudden movement, watching as Nick plays with your fingers. Then he looks up and asks, “What are your plans for today?”
You groan at the thought of returning to reality. “I have to be at work by 8:30. I’m presenting a pitch for a headline, so I should probably start getting ready since it’s—” You stop to glance at his watch as he gently strokes the back of your hand.
“8:29?! No, no, no—fuck!” You quickly untangle yourself from his arms and get up, Nick’s shirt skimming the tops of your bare thighs as you fumble to put on your slippers. Just as you’re about to rush out of the room, Nick grabs your wrist and pulls you back into bed.
Before you knew it, your back was against the mattress again, pinned beneath Nick’s steady gaze.
“I love that shirt on you,” he uttered softly.
“Nicholas c’mon.” You ignore his remark, wiggling beneath him trying to free yourself. He however, seemed to have taken that as a damn challenge.
A smirk tugs on his pink lips before he leans down to ghost his lips against yours, teasing. It was almost like a test to see if you were gonna resist. But when you didn’t, he leaned down once again, capturing your lips between his in a slow, deliberate kiss.
In that moment, it felt as if the world slowed and everything narrowed down to just the two of you. The softness of his lips brushing against yours, a gentle pull, sparked a sensation that coursed through your entire body. There was an unspoken connection, an effortless sync as you responded to each other’s movements, and the kiss deepened naturally. His breath mingled with yours, and his touch was both tender and intense, filled with desire. Time became irrelevant; you could have stayed in that moment forever. Nothing else mattered except the feeling and Nicholas.
Nicholas. Nicholas. Nicholas...
He was all your mind could focus on.
His lips parted from yours with a soft, wet sound before trailing down your cheek, behind your ear, and slowly along your neck. The slow descent of his kisses gave your mind a fleeting chance to gather a coherent thought.
"Nick— I really need to get going," you breathe, trying to summon a resolve that feels distant in the moment.
"Do you, now?" he murmurs against your skin, gently nipping at your neck before soothing the spot with his tongue, drawing a gasp from your lips.
He knew all of your vulnerabilities, every spot that made you gasp for air, craving more, and he was definitely using it to his advantage. But you weren’t exactly upset about that.
Nicholas was feeling it just as intensely. Your sweet sighs and tugging of his hair as he suckled on your neck made all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock, leaving him a needy mess. And it didn’t help when he sucked on that sweet spot behind your ear, making your back arch into him and accidentally grazing his hard, throbbing bulge.
He let out a low groan at the small amount of contact and was desperate for more. Once again, his lips were on yours, more hungry and ravenous than ever. You felt the air leave your lungs when he rolled his hips into yours feeling every inch of him. The repeated action of his hips grinding into yours made you let out the softest moans against his lips, and that sound alone was enough to make Nicholas go wild.
He pulls away for a second to catch his breath as you do the same, though his hips never stop their mindless rutting against yours. He was so drunk on the taste of you, he couldn’t help but start rambling.
“Feel that? Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? Hm?” He’s breathless against your lips as he ground his hips against yours more intently, making you feel him through the barrier of your blue lace panties and his black boxer briefs.
At this point, you were ready to get fired.
Nothing would be able to drag you away from this moment with Nick, not even your fucking job.
All you could do to respond is moan into the air, hoping he wouldn’t stop. His fingers trail down to the hem of his t-shirt on your body. He lifted it just enough to reveal your navel and abdomen, kissing along the fabric as his head traveled lower and lower.
You wasted no time in discarding the nuisance item of clothing leaving you in just your underwear.
Nicholas left gentle kisses along your abdomen, trailing down in between your thighs, all the way to your ankles, then back up again.
“You’re perfect,” He whispers against your skin, his words sending shivers down your spine.
His eyes darkened as they lingered on what he craved the most, groaning in approval at the wet spot left on your underwear. You were soaking and Nicholas was ready to have a taste of your sweet nectar.
He planted a gentle kiss on your pelvis just above the little blue bow of your underwear, dragging his lips against you until he stopped right at the center.
Looking up at you through his long lashes, with a raspy voice he asks, “is this okay?”
You nod, breathlessly answering “yes.” And with that he wasted no time.
His lips pressed against your clit through the fabric, stealing your breath away. When his tongue slid slowly over the damp fabric, you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped, and he smirked against you.
“Look at you. So wet for me," he rambled, pulling the lace to the side to finally see you.
His finger glided through your folds, and he brought it to his lips, sucking it clean with his eyes closed in satisfaction.
The sight before you is so pornographic it makes you rut your hips up instinctively in hopes for some kind of friction which has him chuckling. He stops teasing you and discards your last item of clothing, leaving you completely exposed and bare to him.
Without warning, his flattened tongue swept a long, slow lick between your folds, making you cry out, your body reacting on its own as you ground against his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair.
You become dizzy as he begins to lap at your heat like a dehydrated kitten and your hips suddenly have a mind of their own, grinding against his face, hand shooting out to tangle between his brown locks.
His lips suction on your bundle of nerves and as your back arches, he plunges a finger in you starting a pace that has your eyes rolling.
“F-fuck!” You cry out, clenching around his digit as his tongue flicks your clit in different patterns that sends shocks throughout your body, that is until he inserts a second finger.
It’s amazing and almost pathetic how quickly he has you crumbling to pieces with just a flick of his tongue and fingers. Soon enough, you felt the knot in your lower stomach tightening, and Nick sensed it as well with a knowing smile, watching how tense your body was becoming.
“Gonna cum for me, princess? Huh?” He mumbles against you, never slowing the relentless pace of his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly, it makes him chuckle.
“C’mon baby, soak me. I wanna taste you,” His words push you over the edge off the cliff you were hanging on for dear life.
A string of moans leave your lips as your body begins to shake and convulse uncontrollably. His tongue rides you through the utter bliss, suckling and suctioning causing aftershock waves to jolt through you.
Nick runs his hands up and down your thighs, whispering praises, peppering you with kisses all the way up to your lips as you catch your breath.
“Feeling good?” He whispers, brushing your messy strands of hair out of your face with a soft smile. You nod, returning his smile, glancing at his sheen chest, running your fingers up and down it.
Your gaze then drifts down to the bulge in his briefs, begging for attention to which you trail further down, palming him with light pressure.
Nick’s head falls into the pillow beside you, a low moan escaping his lips at the friction his cock was aching for.
“Fuck— baby, don’t,” He babbles, gasping as you reach into his briefs and release his shaft from the tight confines, pumping him slowly.
You feel the heat in your belly flare up again at his desperate sounds of relief, and begin to tap the tip of his cock against your clit, teasing the both of you.
Nick crashes his lips to yours in a needy haze, both gasping as you line him up with your entrance and start inching forward so slowly it’s practically torture.
You’re so slick with arousal, there’s minimal resistance to his intrusion as you feel your muscles stretching to accommodate around him. You both let out a euphoric moan when he fills you completely, stilling himself and relishing in the feeling of your warm, wet walls.
“God—” He strains against your mouth, “I don’t think I'll ever get over how amazing you feel, angel.”
You moan softly at his words, rutting your hips against his, “please...” you beg, voice trembling.
He smiles against your lips giving you a quick peck, “please what, baby—hm? Tell me what you need.”
You whine in frustration, rocking your hips up once again, to which he takes as an opportunity to sneak his arm under the small of your back and pin you up against his chest. “What do you need, love?”
Before you could form a coherent sentence, he thrusts his hips forward once, the slap of your skin on his echoing in your bedroom which pulls a sharp gasp from your lips.
Then again, and again, and again.
“That what you need, sweetheart?” He pants, starting a pace that has you a mess of strained moans, matching the rhythm of his hips. “Need me to fuck into you like this huh?”
You can't help when your hands tangle in his hair, pulling on it as you cry out when his hips pull back and slams into you with such force, it makes your entire body jolt.
His pace quickens as he rests his forehead against your own, the small actions of you tugging at his hair seeming to enrage him more.
The sounds that echoed in the softly sunlit bedroom were the wet slaps of your skin colliding and a string of profanities and pants coming from the both of you, your walls clenching tightly around him as the tip of his cock hit your sweet spot over and over again with each thrust, sending you into a spiral.
You could feel the knot in your lower tummy starting to get tighter and tighter, your muscles flexing around him as you feel yourself quivering and he can certainly feel it too. His head drops down next to yours letting out low groans, never stopping his ruthless thrusts and determination setting.
“That’s it baby, one more, please.” He whines in your ear, kissing your neck and fingers landing on your bundle of nerves to spur you on alongside his sharp thrusts.
“Fuck— Nick, I’m gonna come,” You warn, feeling yourself start to clench around his cock, to which he keeps his relentless pace to finally push you over the edge.
You let out one last strangled moan as the knot inside of you snaps, digging your nails into his back, your head thrown back as your entire body convulses.
He buried his head into your neck, slamming into you so feverishly to drive you deeper into ecstasy and once you come down is when his thrusts start to become sloppy and moans louder.
He suddenly jolts forward, sobbing out moans through his teeth, feeling his warmth paint your walls white. He collapses on top of you, both breathing so heavily as the aftershocks of your orgasms rolling out of you.
Neither of you could move, relinquishing in each other’s company and trying to recover from the sensations you both just experienced.
After a while of sweet silence and whispering sweet nothings and praises to you, he rolls onto his side, bringing you closer to him.
He plants a soft kiss to the side of your head, drawing patterns on your arm with his fingers.
“I should probably call off now,” You suddenly say to which he responds with a snort.
He reaches down to level himself with your plump and swollen lips, stealing a kiss. “Yeah, you’re gonna be pretty busy the rest of this afternoon, angel.”
#⋆ ˚𝐚𝐫𝐢𝜗𝜚writes#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x y/n#nicholas chavez fanfiction#nicholas chavez fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#nicholas chavez imagine#nicholas chavez smut
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waking up after a night out drinking in a foreign country only to realise that the bed you're in is not your own. no one is beside you. you try to leave but the doors are all locked. the windows won't open. you're trapped. a pretty bird in a cage.
nothing is in the dressers except large, old shirts. the clothes you were wearing when you woke up disappear after you take a shower. no panties. no bra. food shows up on schedule. you never see who leaves it.
they don't answer when you scream. when you bang your fists against the door until they're bloodied. passing out on the floor when the drugs finally kick in. but the mess you make in the daytime is cleaned up. your hands bandaged. disapproval heavy in the air along with the stale scent of tobacco. smoke.
when you're good, you get things. books. magazines. treats. your favourite food. a laptop arrives when you sob yourself to sleep after screaming yourself hoarse about loneliness, and how this isn't right. this isn't okay. it's restricted, of course. you log into Facebook but the moment you try and ask for help, the internet is turned off. you're being watched. monitored closely.
you learn your lesson slowly, giving nothing away to your family and pretending you're enjoying your holiday. being good. quiet.
instead of treats, gifts, recipe books arrive—some pages dogeared. you start making the food. leaving a plate in the fridge. it's gone the next morning. more recipes appear. you make them, too. an expensive chain comes next. a pretty gold necklace for a pretty bird in a golden cage.
(each meal gets you a strange rash on your cheek, jaw the next morning. beard burn, you think, and try not to shudder.)
lingerie comes after. silk, lace. all of it fits perfectly. you try to avoid it. the idea, the implication, is a knife between your ribs, but the next morning, your laptop is missing. the books are gone. food, too. your clothes disappear until all that remains is the lingerie set and a little black box. one you pointedly ignore. throw out with the trash. chew on gum to make the ache in your belly go away until that vanishes too.
your world is narrowed down to hunger. loneliness. isolation—
(in the corner of the rooms, a red light glints in the dark. lonely, but not alone.)
it persists until you relent. give in. another lesson you learn. you wear the set to bed, and try to think nothing of it—
you wake up to something heavy around you. a warm, thick body pressed against your bare spine. coarse chair tickling the skin between your shoulder blades. a burly arm under your neck, elbow bent to wrap a rough hand around your neck. the other slung over your hip, shoved between your thighs. something hard presses into your ass. a bruising pressure. it aches. you stifle a gasp, but with his long, thick fingers wrapped tight around your throat, he feels it.
everything goes still. quiet. just the faint rustle of sheets. the scratch of coarse hair on silk. a breath. you tremble. fight back another gasp when lips press into your crown with a sharp inhale. scenting you. nuzzling into your scalp. warm breath that smalls of malt and honey. woodsy. tobacco.
your eyes adjust slowly to the dark, and fall on a black box left on top of your end table. velvet, you know. you've felt the softness between your fingers when you threw it in the trash with a sob. no escaping it, after all.
the hand between your thighs twitches. when he speaks, it shudders through your spine, makes your hair stand on end. it's a growling purr. the low roar of an old engine. more grit than comfort in the midnight dark.
"jus' close your eyes, love," he rasps, pushing his thick body tighter against you. coiling around you like a big, hungry bear. "an' go back to sleep for me."
and you do.
#heavily implied somno but im on the fence if Price would follow it through so its vague until i make up my mind about it#kisses his little wife goodbye each morning but sometimes gets carried away :T#captain john price x reader#price x reader#john price x reader#im gonna flesh this out because i love this idea tbh but i needed to get this out or id combust
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