#like… I moved on too quickly from this hair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kashverse · 2 days ago

Note

okay okay okay, imagine like

Geto has allllll the hair products. but his darling has gargantuan amounts of delicious bodycare.

and his guilty pleasure is stealing those, treating himself like the pretty princess he is

thanks for requesting...!! been kinda lazy with answering requests sorry lolzz 😴 wrote this thinking about @norikuna as usual

your bathroom is a fortress of beauty. an empire built on hydration, nourishment, and glow.

it started out simple—your body wash, a few lotions, maybe a nice scrub. then, suguru moved in, and suddenly, every known hair product to mankind had taken residence. deep conditioners, curl creams, serums, scalp oils, mystical potions that looked like they were extracted from the fountain of youth. the balance? 50/50. suguru had haircare dominance, and you reigned supreme over bodycare. but that balance was now under threat. because one of your body washes was disappearing at an alarming rate.

"this is a violation," you muttered, staring at the nearly empty bottle of your $30 vanilla bourbon body wash that you were absolutely sure had been full last week. you turned, eyes narrowed at the shelves—your shelves—lined with lotions, creams, exfoliators, butters, and at least five different types of shower oils. then, across the room, were suguru’s shelves. shelves he personally built because his hair products started overflowing onto your side.

multiple hair masks from brands only spoken of in whispers

serums that claimed to revive the soul, not just the scalp

a lineup of conditioners so potent they should be classified as performance-enhancing drugs

curl creams in glass bottles, because suguru insisted “plastic is beneath my hair”

a wooden comb set that cost as much as rent

so, with everything at his disposal, why was your husband suddenly dipping into your inventory? you set the bottle down, deep in thought. there were only two suspects.

satoru the retriever, who had been guilty of thievery before (he once stole an entire bath sponge and chewed it like it owed him money).

suguru, your beloved fiancé, who you trusted—but clearly, not enough.

time to get some answers.

you found suguru in the living room, fresh out of the shower, hair loose, curls looking suspiciously soft. “suguru,” you started, holding up the bottle like a lawyer in a courtroom. he blinked. "yeah?"

"are you using my body wash?"

"your body wash?" he echoed, in a tone that could only be described as criminally evasive. you narrowed your eyes. “my vanilla bourbon body wash. kept on my side of the bathroom. looking a little empty. looking a little used.”

there was a pause. a fraction too long. then, from the couch, satoru the retriever let out a dramatic, accusatory yeowl. even he knew. suguru, betrayed by his own fluffy ally, sighed and rubbed his temple.

“okay, listen—”

“oh my god. it was you.”

he raised a hand. “before you react—”

“BEFORE I REACT?”

“—it’s really nice, okay?” he admitted, unashamed, bold, disrespectful. “it smells good. it lathers well. i was just curious.”

“curious?” you repeated, reeling. “you have an entire product line in there that could single-handedly restore a bald man’s hair, and you chose my body wash??”

“it’s really good, babe.”

“so is your five hundred dollar shampoo but I DON’T USE IT, DO I?”

suguru had the nerve to look smug. “you can if you want.” you let out a long, exhausted sigh, rubbing your temple. “do you even know how rare that body wash is?”

“yeah,” he said, shrugging. “i had to drive across town to buy another bottle before you noticed.”

pause. you stared. suguru was not a man who cracked easily, but right now? he looked like a man with a secret. “suguru.” you stepped closer. “how long has this been going on?”

his lips twitch.

“suguru,” you repeat, voice slow. dangerous.

he sighed. “….two months.”

you nearly dropped the bottle.

“TWO MONTHS?”

“listen, it started as an accident,” he said quickly, like this was a reasonable conversation and not a confession of absolute treason. “i ran out of body wash and grabbed the first one i saw—”

“THE FIRST ONE YOU SAW WAS MINE? NOT EVEN A BACKUP??”

“—and then i liked it,” he admitted, completely shameless. “so, you know. i just… kept going.”

you were devastated. your own fiancé. your own bathroom. betrayed.

“i can’t believe this.”

“to be fair,” he added, completely unhelpfully, “your lotion is really nice too.”

“YOU’RE USING MY LOTION TOO??”

“��just the cocoa butter one.”

satoru the retriever yeowled again like he was personally mourning your loss. “unbelievable,” you muttered, gripping the bottle. “i’m revoking your access.” suguru chuckled, leaning back on the couch. “good luck with that.”

you frowned. “what does that mean?”

he tilted his head, smug and gorgeous, with the softest, most radiant skin of his life, and said,

“i just restocked. try hiding it, i dare you.”

299 notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 2 days ago

Text

HEURES D’ABSENCE.

come to bed (study me instead).

sum. felix knows you have to study, but… he smells so nice too… ok, hear me out… what if, instead, he helps you... review your research material?

wc: 4.3k

cw: sun & moon metaphors, felix is so down bad, minsung is mentioned, they’re so silly, sir kink? (not explored), kisses, kisses, kisses, oral (m.rec), soft yet unprotected piv sex (don’t!), and that’s all, folks!

scent. (♡) the perfume saga.

[🔹★💤 ★🔹]

The Sun is the star at the center of the Solar System. It is a massive, nearly perfect sphere of hot plasma, heated to incandescence by nuclear fusion reactions in its core, radiating the energy from its surface mainly as visible light and infrared radiation with 10% at ultraviolet energies. It is by far the most important source of energy for life on Earth. The Sun has been an object of veneration in many cultures. It has been a central subject for astronomical research since antiquity.

It's kind of an obvious statement, I know, but Felix resembles it quite well, with a couple of exceptions. You know for a fact that he too is by far your most important source of energy for life on Earth. Still, even if Felix can’t help but giggle every time you compare him to the massive star —reason why now his friends call him Sunny, too— he doesn’t feel like he can compare.

He hopes he never gets heated to incandescence. He isn’t sure if any culture venerates him, but he’s quite sure to say that the chances are quite low. He also hopes no one calls him a ‘yellow dwarf.’ But ultimately, he knows he isn’t that massive star that the Earth orbits around because, if he were, he’d probably have a bright, nuclear solution to his silly recent troubles.

But Felix groans. He isn’t as observant as he’d like to be. Moreover, when he does eventually see it, somehow it is always a bit too late.

Hogging the blankets and hugging a pillow, he sinks his head into it again. He’s been turning in bed for what feels like hours because he can’t help but notice it now. He can’t help but wonder how it could escalate to such an extent right under his nose.

Felix blinks, sleepy, but not quite enough to fall asleep.

But hogging the blankets isn’t his thing. He feels hot, so he pushes the bedsheets off of him, just for his arms to feel cold, to which he mumbles a curse and grabs the blanket again. This is bugging him. A lot. Like, sure, it was happening under his nose, but his nose wasn’t even that big. It keeps going for a while: hot, cold, hot, cold.

It’s unfair, or so he feels. It’s gotta be, he grimaces, as he covers himself top to bottom with the stupid blanket, and sticks his foot out. Weirdly, that scares him, so he groans and finally surrenders.

Ladies and gents, it only took Felix a week to figure out and acknowledge: it’s getting harder to sleep without you by his side. The excuse his body gives him is another, however, so he rises from his bed and heads out.

If you hear the faint sounds the wood makes with each of his steps as he goes from his room to the kitchen, he does not know. Felix just stares at your room’s door in your shared apartment, and there’s not even a shy move. Nothing what-so-ever. Not even the slightest gust of wind that moves it.

Felix sighs, the hair in his arms spiky as he opens the fridge and a shiver rushes while he grabs a bottle of water, chugging it as if the answer to his troubles is at the end. Somehow, he never reaches it. He swallows, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the cold remnants of it quickly fade away down his throat.

That refreshes him, but the light from the fridge killed every ounce of sleepiness in his eyes. He leans his elbows on the kitchen counter, passing his hands through his hair.

It’s a struggle for him, and maybe he comes to terms with it just because it’s late at night for him. Because this is as pathetic as it sounds: you have been locked up in your room on a day-to-day basis because of your exams, and even if Felix understands, cooks you breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and checks on you when it’s late just to move your sleepy body from your desk to your bed, not seeing you aside from that is getting harder and harder.

Mhhm. Damn right. Pathetic, he knows. His roommate Minho—a poor guy stuck living in a flat with a lovey-dovey couple— had laughed one day so hard that they kicked them both out of the university’s library.

“I mean, sure I might miss Jisung like that whenever he has exams, but if I lived with him?” Minho scoffs as they both get out of the library. He feels bad for the blond boy though, so he sighs, patting his back. “Maybe you guys should talk this out, Sunny. C’mon, let’s get some hot coffee.”

Minho was in Jisung's apartment tonight, so Felix couldn’t go and bother him as he usually did. The only light in the flat was the one that escapes from the underside of your door. Like a moth, he gets closer, surrendering again. He sighs as he steps towards your room. Only then, he stops.

He doesn’t want to bother you. It may sound like a stupid excuse that he makes for himself, but ultimately it’s the only truth he knows. However, he grins, thinking that chances are you’ve probably fallen asleep on the desk again, your room smelling like paper, ink, and noodles. He can lie to himself and say that he was only going to tuck you into bed like usual. And so, taking the doorknob in his hand, and breathes out before opening it.

…until, well. You’re not asleep.

The Moon is Earth's only natural satellite. It orbits at an average distance of 384,400 km (238,900 mi), about 30 times the diameter of Earth. Tidal forces between Earth and the Moon have synchronized the Moon's orbital period (lunar month) with its rotation period (lunar day) at 29.5 Earth days, causing the same side of the Moon to always face Earth. The Moon's gravitational pull is the main driver of Earth's tides.

Maybe that is why as soon as the door is open, his heart dances in his chest. Maybe your gravitational pull is insignificant compared to that of the actual grey satellite, but Felix doesn’t have it in him to care when all he wants is to melt by your side. ‘You’re awake,’ he wants to say, but he shrugs it off. That’s a stupid sentence, even for him to say at three am. It is a fact that you barely sleep and that only worsens during exams week.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t let himself dwell on how not creative his mind turns out to be in the worst moments, not while your eyes hold his. It’s then when he sees through the midst of tired, sleepy confusion in the colour of your eyes that the hours of absence, of longing, of craving, crash against you almost as strongly as they crash against him. The sun and the moon on a collision course—fiery and untouchable, yet destined to shatter the sky when they finally meet.

There are no words —no other worlds: a star, and a satellite— as he stares at you, as you sit on the floor, against the edge of your bed, your room a mess and your desk a battleground that, by the looks of it, Felix can’t help but think you’re not having the upper hand in this war you’re fighting against piles of printed put PDFs. You want to stand up and hug him as if you haven’t seen him in months, but you don’t know your right foot from your left, your mind baffled and your heart swooning as soon as the dim light of your desk lets you see some of his darkest freckles, even as far away as he stands.

And somehow, he understands, meeting you halfway. Maybe he doesn’t, but you don’t have it in you to give a damn. Not when he’s back at your side.

It’d be foolish if he tried it right away, and maybe it’s because he knows you so well, but you appreciate that he doesn’t immediately urge you to go back to bed. Felix wouldn’t know if you had been in bed to begin with, but nevertheless, he sits with you against it, the only sound in the room being the ruffle the bedsheets make as he pulls at them to settle them back on the bed, and the sound of your computer’s fan, setting the mood just right.

You would’ve made that joke out loud, but you don’t have the energy. Not when all of your remaining energy goes to pay attention to the very much welcomed presence next to you, when he cradles your face with the palm of his hand, and every bit of hopelessness of your coloured eyes hits him, unrestrained.

“My misty moon.”

It’s a whisper, one that makes your heart sink. You missed that silly nickname so much, and it’s almost ridiculous –you have seen him during the week, but still, it doesn’t feel the same.

His arm slithers its way to your waist, scooching himself closer to you. You blink, noticing your eyes are teary.

Misty, ha. So funny.

Maybe you missed him that much, because it cracks a smile out of you. You don’t dare to doubt that you did. Maybe it’s because you’re stressed because of all the sheer amount of work you still have left to do —just the thought of it makes the room spin.

He hugs you tighter. Felix doesn’t know what to do. He pulls you closer. No, closer. His soft hands move to your thigh and pick you up, sitting you on his lap. He’s never seen you look so fragile.

It was silly. It was you who had asked him to let you be while exams lasted, because you concentrated better alone. The environment chaotic, sure, because you hadn’t had a dinner before two am that wasn’t noodles in like, a week, but still, even when you were roommates, he knew better than to approach you during exams. You had always made it clear: you just worked like that. He didn’t get it, but he also knows he’d do whatever you need. It hurt his soft little heart to see you push yourself so hard, but in the end, it always paid off.

But you had been missing him so much. So, so, so much you almost were convinced it couldn’t be normal. That you shouldn’t be. You had barely been together for a year, even if you had lived as roommates for longer. Was that even allowed? To miss someone so vividly when they are in the room next to you?

His chest feels warm against you. Oh, you missed him. Your chest gnaws at the feeling, your own heart hating you —despising you, even— from keeping it away from the warmth of this sun for so long —a little over a week— because, how could you be so cruel, your heart whines, teary and all smiley now.

You nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, and he chuckles softly.

“You’re tickling me, moonmuffin.”

His- his voice? His laugh? Surely he’s got to be trying to murder you in cold blood and cuddles. What else could he be attempting when he feels so soft and so warm and so kissable and so… Felix.

“You smell nice,” you mumble instead, excusing yourself as you attempt to break each and every law of physics you may or may not remember as you move and fail to get even closer to him.

“What?” he giggles again, his hands traveling to thread your hair.

His fingers through your scalp feel so nice you sigh and melt against him. You agree with your heart: how dare you take this away for a week? You should be imprisoned and sentenced to mandatory cuddles for the rest of your life. Yeah. Life-sentence cuddles. You brush your nose slightly over his collarbone. You’re lucky you even remember what you had been saying.

“Not my fault. You smell nice.”

You should peach the idea. Life sentence cuddles for not having cuddles before. For attempting to even succeed in not having cuddles for a week. That? That’s fucking crazy.

“Mooncakes. How about we get you to bed, mmh?”

Maybe two life sentences. ‘Damn. You’re really sleep deprived’, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it, loving the thought of cuddles and Felix for life. Wait, no, even better: Felix’s cuddles for life. That way you didn’t need to worry about not having two lives. You could just cuddle. With Felix.

Meanwhile, Felix doesn’t even struggle when his hand passes behind your knees and holds your back, carefully standing up and getting you in bed, and quickly reaching for the blanket to tuck you in.

“What are you mumbling about,” he smiles, stroking your cheek.

His touch feels softer than all the blankets in your apartment combined. Like cotton and clouds, soft, mushy, effervescent. A-blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of deal. Which is a very big deal, because there is no way in hell Felix even tries to leave. You have been sentenced to cuddles for life, and the law is the law.

“Oh no, mister,” you blink, smiling softly. “You don’t get to leave now.”

His eyes are like crescent moons while you look at him as if he was crazy. As if the mere thought of him trying to leave was mindboggling, along with downright impossible. Fat chance you were going to let him go past that door tonight. Or ever, your heart snickers, rubbing hands like birdman, almost menacingly.

“The bed is cold,” he teases.

“Warm it up, Sunny.”

Your reply comes faster than he anticipated despite how sleepy you look, and Felix can’t help but smile. He missed how that nickname sounded in your voice, even if it was layered below sleepiness. “Smartass,” he grins, but he tries to keep his promise. Just in case. He wouldn’t want you to be pissed off at him in the morning. “You should sleep.”

“Haha. As if.”

Your hands travel and link behind his head, keeping him an inch from your face. You’re making this too hard for poor, weak, little Felix, but he bites his lip. His voice turns even softer, a whisper against your lips.

“But I’ll just keep you awake.”

Your eyes trail down to his lips, and he’s so close to losing it. “Somehow I still don’t see the issue,” you mumble.

His nose strokes yours as he can’t help but giggle. “You’re so gonna get all moony about it tomorrow.”

“What does that even mean,” you scrunch your nose, much to his amusement.

Felix just laughs, shaking his head sheepishly.

“We should sleep.”

“Right.”

“You’ll be mad at me if you feel tired tomorrow.”

Now that makes you giggle, letting out a sound much like a lie detector would. A strange meeh that, had he not been as tired as he was, Felix would’ve rolled his eyes at.

“Wrong.”

He sighs, the smile on his face not faltering for a millisecond. “You’re making this too hard.”

You blink at him innocently, and Felix indulges again. Maybe because it’s late, but honestly, his mind is too tired to make up an excuse as to why he lowers his head and kisses your temple.

He hears how your breath hitches, and that makes him as giddy as the first time.

“You know, I read something off the pages on the floor last night,” Felix chuckles, stroking your nose with his as you blink and blush.

“Oh?” You smile, cheekily interested.

“Oh,” he teases you. “So, philosophy major, what’s all that with kisses and their meanings?”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, the thought of taking the spare pillow on your bed and hitting him with it getting tempting.

Felix’s hands play with the ends of your hair as it rests against the pillow below your head, a mindless action that he only stops to cradle your face and press against your cheeks teasingly.

“My cute fluffy moon. A philosophy romantic.”

“Enough,” you whine, laughing. His heart does a little dance every time he gets a chuckle out of you, and this time, a win is a win. “Fine, I’ll tell you about it.”

“You know, I’m actually a visual learner?”

Felix bites his tongue when your eyebrows raise. Even he knew that was fairly smooth, which is only acknowledged when you roll your eyes.

“So, technicalities aside, because I refuse to tell the intro again or even read it within the next ten hours,” you state, making him laugh as you continue talking, “the human species has many types of kissing. And all of them have different underlining meanings.”

The look in his brown eyes remains expecting, however, so it seems that short explanation won’t do to make the suddenly-turned Professor Felix happy. Or so he makes it seem, by how he fakes pushing non-existent glasses further the bridge of his nose.

“That seems like an interesting research,” he starts, pushing the non-existent glasses again. “I see,” he snorts, because it’s late, it’s a lame joke, and he’s trying to get you to give him the kisses he’s been missing all week —and he may be close to getting some, which he celebrates silently.

“Any examples, perchance?”

And just why the hell would you refuse?

“Of course, sir,” it’s just because of his formal tone, but something in the air shifts. Maybe just the dust that gets bored and changes direction in the air, but Felix’s eyes also do something you can’t quite place. But your mind goes up to the files, seeing if you understand the topic you are researching.

“How about we do it this way— you say a body part, and I tell you its meaning?”

Oh, fuck yeah. Felix can’t believe he’s getting it this easily. He could die right now, filled with the cheeky malice of getting a plan executed successfully, but he ain’t dying without those kisses.

He ponders carefully but decides to start easy. “A kiss on the cheek?”

As your hands softly move to cradle his face, the feeling of your soft lips against his skin, soft soft soft, so soft he can’t think of a better adjective to describe it nor another by any chance, the gentle and tender press of your kiss triggers the butterflies that linger around in his system ever since he’d started liking you.

“Depending on the culture, a kiss on the cheek indicates affection or tries to portray a sense of welcoming,” you state in a calming voice filled with sleepiness that’s slowly starting to wear off.

“Forehead.” Felix grins, feeling his cheeks heat up when your hands move his head so you can reach from where you are lying down underneath him and shortly peck him.

“A deep wish for protection, with underlying affection. A way to express one’s desire for the other’s well-being.”

“I uh… may be running out of ideas,” Felix chuckles sheepishly. But please don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop. Ever.

He shuts up his heart as you start speaking. “I’ll take the microphone from here, then,” you laugh.

And Felix smiles widely as he starts being pampered to death in the form of kisses. A kiss on his earlobe, “to provoke arousal.” A kiss on his hands, “to greet with respect.” A tiny peck on his nose, “to express care.” A slightly longer kiss on his lips, “love,” you continue as you smile at him.

Had he been standing, Felix would’ve swooned by now. He doesn’t know how his arms haven’t surrendered and finally refused to hold his weight over you, but there he remains, over you, legs tangled underneath the bedsheets, with the only light in the room —your desk light— lighting not only his face, but also his eyes as they shine brighter after every kiss.

“Now, as you so obviously know, as a thorough expert in the matter,” you joke, happy to make him laugh, “other, different kisses may share meaning with these.”

“I see. Go on, then.”

It only takes another “Of course, sir,” and there it goes again. The tension in the room spikes up, like the hair in your arms whenever you look at the mess your room is in during exams.

But you’re having fun. And you smile. “A kiss on the lips indicates love, as I stated prior,” you snicker, kissing him on the lips again, maybe to make a point, maybe because after all these kisses he’s starting to taste like the most delicious thing you could take to your mouth.

Blame the tension for that, your heart grins at you, pushing you from behind to keep going. And there you go.

“There’s also what is called French kissing.” You swear you can see the exact moment where your desk light rats him out, allowing you to see how his pupils darken when instead of lifting your head to reach him, you finally link your arms behind his head and pull him down towards you, kissing him on the lips again, deeply this time, nibbling on his lips and taking advantage of the moment he smiles to slide your tongue in.

Felix isn’t just on cloud nine. He’s on cloud nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine. He’s never been so high in the sky, and even if it is currently past midnight, had he been the actual, real Sun, not only would he be shining as much as he is now, but also make tomorrow the day with the clearest blue skies.

None of you can tell who is it that starts deepening the kiss. None of you can tell who’s the first that starts panting and gasping while both his and your hands start to map the other’s body, as if they’ve lost something and were sure the other one had it hidden somewhere.

You, however, are sure that there’s no such thing as a good night kiss anymore, because, with Felix’s knee between your thighs and his tongue in your mouth, you’re so not going to allow this alluring man who you’ve been dreaming about since the exams week started to leave you just like that.

To hell with tomorrow’s exam.

Felix, the poor boy, can’t read your mind. Maybe that’s why he gasps so heavily he lets out a moan when you roll him to his back and kiss him again before he can catch his breath. Maybe it's why he keeps letting out moans when he notices you smiling as you kiss him, your hands trailing up below his shirt.

“T-that tickles,” he smiles, panting, as your fingers trail faintly over his skin, making him feel goosebumps.

It doesn’t tickle anymore when it’s your lips that follow his happy trail, down, down, down. He takes off his shirt as if it’s burning, and if he’s honest with himself, he can’t think of a time when he has wanted this as desperately as he does now.

There’s no doubt in his mind that in your darkened eyes the same thought lingers on your head, while they stare deeply into his own, almost in a way capturing his soul, the sensation as effervescent yet not as pleasurable as the one that travels from his dick to his whole body as your hand closes around it. God, if Felix loves that sensation. He was so drunk once that he remembers thinking that if he could marry it, he probably would’ve. Somewhere in Las Vegas, too.

His head falls limp against the pillows with a thud, his hand threading into your hair as pretty little moans leave past his lips, following the sticky sweet sounds your mouth starts to make as you attempt to take him in, hollowing your cheeks and leaving your hand at the base to make up for what you can’t fit.

“F-fuck, baby, that’s so good…” he lets out over and over,” so good, baby, so good,” he almost mewls, “missed you s’much, fuck…”

He lets out a groan as he moves your head away, because he could bet money that he was a beat way from bursting, and he wouldn’t lose. Even then, losing the opportunity to fuck you for all the times he sighed pathetically this week, missing you when you were just next door, is much, much worse.

Felix’s soft hands travel, stroking every square inch of surface he can at a time, passing your thighs, your stretch marks and your hip dips —ones he has been a devout worshiper for God knows how long, dedicating entire nights (and days, if it had been only for him) to the both of them— bending to press soft kisses from your tummy up to your cleavage, his hands playing with your nipples just to hear your whines as he helps you lean your back down softly on the bed.

Felix whispers soft and tender nothings in your ear, mixed with silly sentences just because he’s missed having you below him so stupidly, stupidly because you’ve missed him just as much. He too kisses you everywhere after he slides in, only because he’s pretty sure that if he starts moving right away, he might not last as long as he wants.

Your cheek, your forehead, your temple, on the palm of your hand before linking his fingers with it, on your nose just so he can smile at you when you scrunch it.

“Sunny, don’t tease,” you pout cutely, moving your hips.

Finally, Felix giggles as he dives for your lips deeply. And when he kisses you, you smile, reeling in the feeling of his lips against your lips.

A solar eclipse.

[🔹★💤 ★🔹]

~kats, who’s genuinely tweaking bc why do i feel like this wouldn’t work if i hadn’t sneaked astronomical stuff in it?

catiuskaa, february 2025 ©

I AM??? SO SORRY?? I HAVEN'T POSTED IN?? SO LONG?? MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR??? LIKE ??'?'?'?' I MISSED SO MUCH??

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novascharms · 2 days ago

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soccer player! rafe is unable to focus on his algebra lesson cause he's so obsessed with his tutor aka his girl - mdni cause it gets nastyyy.

the tutoring session starts with good intentions. it always does.

but two minutes in, you glance over and catch him staring at you, his book forgotten in his lap, his gaze fixed on your face with a softness that makes your breath hitch. four minutes in, his fingers are tangled in your hair, the algebra completely abandoned as he leans closer, his touch distracting in the best and worst ways.

six minutes in, you’re repeating yourself, trying to get him to focus, but it’s hopeless. his attention isn’t on anything you’re saying—it’s on you. eight minutes in, he’s holding your hand, lifting it to his lips, his kisses slow and deliberate on each knuckle.

ten minutes in, algebra is a distant memory, and you’re straddling his lap, lips crashing into his in a kiss so intense, it steals the breath from your lungs.

you’re convinced there must be a scientific explanation for the way rafe can unravel you so easily. how his touch, his lips, his very presence can reduce you to a pliant, needy mess in seconds. your mind is foggy, your body weak, and melting into his without hesitation.

his hands are firm on your back, sliding down slowly as he pulls you closer, closer, until there’s no space left between your bodies. your fingers grip his shoulders as if to steady yourself, though the heat coursing through you is anything but steady.

you don’t even remember when your lips parted for him, but now you’re entirely lost in the way his tongue moves against yours, intentionally and consuming. you tug at his shirt, trying to ground yourself, but instead, the fabric only seems to fuel your need to feel more of him.

unable to resist, you nip at his bottom lip, tugging gently with your teeth. the low sound that escapes him sends a shiver down your spine, and his hands slide lower, settling firmly on your hips.

it feels practiced, the way his fingers tighten, gripping you just enough to keep you exactly where he wants you. and then he’s tugging you forward, a deliberate move that leaves no question about what’s happening between the two of you.

the thin material of your shorts does nothing to mask the sensation of the head of his cock pushing right along your clothed slit.

the move makes you gasp in pleasure, "g-god..!" you're immediately seeking more and need him to do it again. he catches on pretty quickly and without any complaint, he's got his hands on your hips and is helping you move back and forth on his lap, "mm.." you're weakly whining against his lips as you lazily rut against him, desperately chasing release.

you drive your hips against his tip, slowly grinding against it and you could cry at the fact that it couldn't go in because of your clothes. you had a half a mind to just fuck him right here but that seemed to be a line neither of you wanted to cross with your family in the house.

"i need it.." you're whining against his lips, hips bucking fiercely on his lap and he exhales sharply, hands on your hips. "you know we can't do that here.." he's struggling, squeezing your hips like he's scared to let them wander.

your stomach twists and you groan quietly without slowing your hips. the pleasure felt too good, too intense to stop. before you can actually burst into tears, rafe is shifting. "here, try this.." he moves from sitting on your bed to lying with his head on a pillow before tugging his sweats down and leaving his briefs on. his cock is straining in his briefs and without hesitation, you're reaching for it.

rafe grabs your wrist, "no." he grabs your hips and puts you right on his clothed cock and without warning, he ruts you forward on his lap.

your hips stutter at the intense pleasure and you're immediataly throwing your head back and fisting your bed sheets. "ohhh..that feels good..!" you whimper as you grind your hips onto his lap, hips moving back and forth over and over until every thing fades into the background, until all you know and all you can think of us to rut on rafe's lap and chase your release. "that's it, baby, take what you need." rafe rasps as his hands guide you and help you stay somewhat upright.

"uh uh uh uh.." your sweet, dumb moans are filling the room as you fuck yourself silly on rafe's lap and push against his cock just to feel his tip almost pushing past your slit but not quite due to your shorts blocking the passage.

rafe stuffs your mouth with his fingers as he mutters something about needing to be more quiet or whatever. you're not sure, you're too drunk on his cock, too busy rutting to listen. you only notice a couple of seconds later that rafe has unbuttoned your pyjama shirt and you're sitting there, tits bouncing with every small movement you make.

you know you're close when your eyes fill with tears and rafe starts helping you move again because you're getting all sloppy and unorganised. your vision always gets spotty during this part. it's always the vision first, then the fuzzy feeling and then you're gripping something—in this case, rafe's wrist that is right by your tit that he's fondling in his big hands.

"rafe.. rafe..!" you whine around his fingers, eyes rolling back as you sloppily rut in his lap and just a second later, your toes are curling, vision spotty and you're cumming on his lap.

you’re utterly drained, every ounce of energy spent, and your body seems to have a mind of its own as you collapse forward without a second thought. rafe, sharper and more grounded than you in the moment, shifts quickly to catch you before you crash into him. his strong arms wrap around you instinctively, steadying you as your head finds its way to his shoulder, settling there like it was always meant to.

his hand moves gently to your back, a steady presence that matches the low murmur of his voice. "you okay?" he asks, his breath brushing the shell of your ear, the warmth of it sending a delicate shiver down your spine.

you don’t bother lifting your head, instead offering a soft hum, your eyes fluttering closed as you sink into him. okay doesn’t even begin to describe it. every part of you feels light, weightless, like the world beyond this moment has dissolved entirely.

the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand anchors you, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if he knows just how safe you feel here—in his arms, pressed against him, utterly and completely at peace.

snippet from 'teach me' series

#teach me #novawrites #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe smut

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vivwritesfics · 2 days ago

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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter One

In her defence, she didn't know it was a Navy bar. In his defence, he didn't know that she was an F1 driver. It shouldn't matter when it's just a fling (but it's not just a fling, is it?)

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Verstappen!Reader

In her defense, she didn’t realise that The Hard Deck was a Navy bar. The sign by the beer taps should have given it away. Disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your cellphone on my bar, you buy a round. She had taken in the final part, keeping her phone in her pocket as she ordered.

Because that was all that she wanted. A drink, a moment of peace before she hit the road. The bar was empty as she sipped her very first drink, tucked away in one of the booths. The longer she sat there, just slowly sipping her drink, the longer she had to stay in San Diego, away from her family. Good. The longer she was away from them, the better.

By the time she had finished her first gin and tonic (something she had gotten a taste for because of her big brother), the bar began to fill up. Men and women in khaki uniforms walked through the doors. Some went up to the bar, some reserved tables for themselves and their friends, and some gathered around the pool table.

The woman behind the bar released a whistle and the group around the pool table turned towards her. She held out two pool cues. “You know the rules, Hangman!” She called and a handsome man approached the bar.

“Trust me, Pen,” he said, green eyes sparkling beneath the bar lights, and handed his phone to her. Another man, equally as handsome, followed him over and passed her his phone, too. She gave over the two cues. “We know the rules.”

She kept looking at the group. The more she looked, the more she realised how attractive they all were. The girl with her dark hair in a bun, the man with the wire rimmed glasses, the shorter man with the close cropped hair. A group this attractive wasn’t natural, she thought as she drained the last of her glass, sipping the gin and tonic mixed with ice in the very bottom of her glass.

Standing up, she grabbed her keys from her pocket and moved to leave the bar. But her eyes were still on the group, too intrigued to leave just yet.

Naval officers weren’t like the people she normally hung around with. They were thin and lithe, athletes trying to keep themselves as light as possible. These Naval officers were big, broad shoulders and all muscle. It made sense for their jobs, she thought. The muscles in their arms became more evident when they began playing pool, their biceps straining the cuffs of their short sleeves.

The one woman in the group leaned over the pool table. She hit the white ball, knocking one of the striped balls into the pocket. It was insanely attractive.

“Would you like another?” The bartender asked and she tore her eyes away from the woman in the khaki uniform.

She immediately went to stand. “I can get it,” She said, but the bartender shook her head, promising to bring her another. Another full glass of gin and tonic and she wouldn’t be able to drive.

The bartender brought over her second gin and tonic and placed it down in front of her. She thanked her quickly and lifted the drink to her lips. As she sipped her drink, another man walked into the bar.

The only similarity he had to the naval officers that filled the building was the aviators sitting low on his nose. It didn’t matter that it was dark outside, he still wore them. A Hawaiian shirt was on his body instead of a khaki uniform, the buttons open to reveal the white wifebeater beneath. She had seen her fair share of moustaches on her friends, fellow drivers, her heroes growing up, but none of them looked as good with one as he did.

Colour her intrigued. She sat back as she watched the way he moved as he walked over to the bar and ordered himself a beer. As soon as the beer was in his hands, he walked over to the group playing pool.

For a minute, she lost sight of him, more interested in the drink in front of her. Just this one and she would be finished. The keys in her jacket pocket were heavy as she drained the glass, drinking until only the ice and the fruit was left.

Suddenly, he walked past her. The man in the Hawaiian shirt walked past her booth. He sat at the piano beside the jukebox and pressed a few of the keys. His aviator friends, the ones that were playing pool, surrounded him at the piano, singing along with joy as he played.

She couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t look away from the naval officers that surrounded him. It was quite a sight, all of them singing along to Jerry Lee Lewis. Maybe it was something he did regularly, often enough for his friends to know the words. She had seen celebrations like this before, when her big brother had won his first world championship.

The man in the Hawaiian shirt stopped playing and everybody returned to what they had previously been doing. There was still that energy about them, that happy, electric energy that filled the entire bar. His aviator friends walked past the both that only held her and went back to the pool table. He went to join them.

She watched, watched the way he held his beer in his large hands, the way his Hawaiian shirt moved with every step as he moved towards the pool table.

But, suddenly, he slipped into the seat opposite her. She was unable to keep the surprise off of her face as he sipped his beer and said, “Hi.”

That was it. Just a quick, casual ‘hi.’ Being chatted up was nothing new for her and she was used to it. Even when she was a kid in school, boys flirted with her in an attempt to get close enough to meet her brother. She should have been immune to it by now.

But this one little word from the gorgeous man across from her and she was ready to slip from her seat, melting into a puddle on the floor.

She held her composure. The way his dark eyes stared into her own, the way a small, pretty smile played beneath his moustache, wasn’t making it easy. “Hey,” she responded, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as she picked up her drink. Her media team had trained her for stuff like this. But one look at him and she wanted to get it all.

“I haven’t seen you around here,” he continued.

She didn’t think he knew who she was when he first sat down, but this confirmed it. It sent sparks firing off inside of her. This was freedom.

“I’m just stopping by,” she replied, a coy smile playing on her lips.

He held his large hand out towards her. She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering at the size of his hand, much larger than her own. “I’m Rooster.”

She took a hold of his hand, still unable to get over the size of it, and shook it. “Well, Rooster. Do you always start chatting up random girls in bars?” She asked.

For a moment, a very brief moment, she watched as panic shot through him. But soon he saw the smile playing on her lips, he immediately let his body relax. “Only the pretty ones,” he replied.

Suddenly, she saw an opportunity. She sipped her gin and put it to one side, focusing entirely on him. “Well, if I’m so pretty, then you wouldn’t mind telling me your real name. Because I’m betting it’s not Rooster.” She crossed one leg over the other, letting her foot bounce, occasionally hitting his knee.

He shook his head. “You’re right, it’s not actually Rooster,” he answered. “I’m Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw.”

The name suited him. Bradley. She hadn’t yet said it outloud, but couldn’t wait to feel it on her tongue. Even if it was only for one night.

In return, she gave him her first name and her first name only.

“Have you got a last name?” Bradley found himself asking.

She didn’t tell him what her last name was. Instead, she pulled out her I.D. card and pushed it across the table towards him, getting him to read it. He took it, the I.D. card looking tiny between his fingers. “Ver… Vershtap…” He tried to say it again, trailing off in a confused mumble.

“Close,” she giggled and linked her fingers together, resting her chin on her hands. “Verstappen.”

Bradley continued to stare blankly at her. So, she decided to teach him. “Repeat after me. Ver.”

“Ver,” Bradley repeated. She couldn’t help but laugh; it wasn’t like it was a difficult name to pronounce.

“Stap.”

“Stap. Verstap,” he said, nodding as he put all of it together.

“Pen. Verstappen.”

“Verstappen,” he said slowly. But then he said it again, quicker this time, surprising himself with just how easy it was. “Verstappen. It’s pretty. Where is it from?” He asked and took a swig of his beer.

“It’s Dutch,” she answered, curling her fingers around her glass. “On my dad’s side.”

Bradley said her name in full. The way it rolled off of his tongue, she could have listened to it on repeat.

He looked at her I.D once again and the smile dropped from his face. “You’re only twenty four?” He asked in surprise.

She nodded her head and sipped the melted ice at the bottom of her glass.

“I’m thirty six,” he replied.

Bradley went to stand up, to take his beer with him and leave her to sit alone yet again. But she shook her head and grabbed his hand. “It’s not a problem with me,” she said and he stilled. “You’re younger than my brother’s girlfriend and that is my threshold.”

So, Bradley sat back down. As she drank, she spoke. Bradley ordered her another when her glass emptied.

“So, what’re you doing here in San Diego?” He asked as he put the gin and tonic down and joined her on her side of the booth.

She tapped her nose twice. “That’s for me to know,” she said and giggled. But she really wasn’t going to tell him. She’d learnt by that point that, once somebody knew who she was, they were going to start treating her differently.

She didn’t want that with Bradley.

She didn’t know when they started kissing. But her hands were in his hair, tugging at it as she felt his moustache against her lip. Bradley had his hands on her ass, squeezing lightly as he pulled her onto his lap. “You wanna head back to mine, find out why they call me Rooster?” He whispered against her lips.

She pulled away and nodded her head. At that, Bradley squeezed her hip. “I’m gonna need your words, pretty girl,” he said and she kissed him again.

“Yes Bradley,” she said through a shuddering breath, her forehead against his. “I want you to take me back to your place and show me exactly why they call you Rooster.”

Bradley grinned. He took her hand and led her out of The Hard Deck. He took her past the rest of the Dagger Squad, catching the grin the female Naval officer sent his way.

“Which one is yours?” She asked as they walked out of the doors and over to the car park. She wasn’t going to point her car out to him, the McLaren she was currently borrowing from the man that had stolen her job. But more on that later.

Still holding her hand in his, Bradley took her over to the blue Ford Bronco.

She let out a whistle as she looked at it. “This is sweet,” she muttered as she walked around it.

Bradley beamed, watching as she walked around the car and to it all in. The Bronco was his pride and joy, that fact clear by how well taken care of it was. “You know about cars?” He asked and she nodded her head.

“You could say I’m a car mechanic,” she said and giggled.

Bradley opened the passenger side door. Taking her hand, he helped her to climb into the Bronco.

She fiddled with the radio for most of the ride back to his place. If it was anybody else sitting in his passenger seat, Bradley would have slapped their hand away, stopped them from fiddling with the settings on his precious radio. He had it set to the station he liked, and nobody was allowed to change it. But he didn’t mind when she did it. When she found a station she liked, she settled into the comfortable passenger seat of the Bronco and hummed along.

Bradley was a gentleman. As soon as he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his beachfront house, he pulled open the door for her and held onto her hand as she jumped out. He pushed the door shut and immediately pressed his lips to her own, hands cradling her head as he held her against the Bronco. She couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips. “Fuck,” she whispered, his lips so damn soft against her own. She’d never kissed someone with a moustache before; it was a different sensation, brushing against her lip as she fought him for control.

Control Bradley didn’t easily give up.

She pulled back, chest heaving as she stared into his dark eyes, his pupils blown wide. She was sure she looked the same. “So, are you gonna take inside or what?”

a/n: i've been promising to rerelease this for ages and it's finally here! i'm really proud of this chapter, especially compared to the original version. overall, this series will have more smut than the first time around. more smut, more detail, more emotion (i love rewrites) - let me know if you wanna be tagged!

a/a/n: this series has a sister series! written by @nurse-floyd it'll be a driver!reader x rhett abbott! (aka if you are like me and obsessed with cowboys and f1, you'll love it, even if you don't know rhett abbott)

tags: @biancathecool

@nurse-floyd

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revelboo · 1 day ago

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couldge we get some nsfw tfa bulkhead crumbs, maybe? 👉👈

Rolling these into one scenarios post cause I’m over 100 asks again already 🤣

More Assorted Scenarios 🌶️

18+ Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

The mechs do have both, but can shift the plating protecting their ‘bits’ independently. If one of their humans is actively exploring down there, they’ll figure it out. Though Knockout and Breakdown, Tailgate and Cyclonus, and Chromedome and Rewind’s humans are going to figure it out very quickly. Some mechs would be down for letting their human play with whatever they want (Swerve, Skywarp, or Bluestreak, though he’d be absolutely mortified about it and an awkward mess the first several times), while others would require some coaxing (TFP Megatron)

TFA Bulkhead

• “This okay?” He asks, servos grazing your hips in a barely there touch. ‘Bulkhead, please,’ you whisper, hips up. Can feel the head of his spike slide against your inner thigh, branding you with heat before he’s gripping himself and pressing inside you. “You’re sure about this?” His insecurity normally adorable, but right now it’s just frustrating. And you push back against him, sucking in a breath at the faint burn of his spike stretching you, sliding deep. “Slow down.” One of his massive hands slams down beside you, servos clawing the concrete floor.

• Groaning, his hips jerk against you and you brace yourself when he begins to move. Wanted to take it slow this time, but as you make those sounds and push back to meet his thrusts, and he loses control. Servos gauging into the concrete on either side of you as he thrusts inside your wet heat. Afraid to touch you in case he accidentally gets too rough, because even mass displaced, you’re so small. Gripping his spike so tight. With everyone sharing the same space, he’s trying to keep quiet as he claims you, but you’re not making any effort at all, crying out for him. Encouraging him. Sari and Bee are at least out at a drive in movie you’d brought Sari a ticket for.

Skywarp

• “Primus, wait,” he groans, hips lifting as you run your fingertips along his inner thigh, tracing seams and dipping to stroke sensitive mesh. “Wait.” Ignoring him, you run the pad of your thumb over his plating. Know this one shifts to free his spike, and teasing the bottom edge of it with a fingernail has him making that sound suspiciously like a whimper that you love. He’d promised to behave. Keep his hands to himself and let you explore him. On your knees between his spread thighs, you press your mouth against his plating and he starts swearing, voice cracking as he swaps to his own language.

• You’re trying to offline him. Tip of your tongue sliding against the seams of his plating. Fingers touching and dipping to find mesh. And groaning, head back, he lifts his hips and shifts his plating to free his aching spike. Not even aware that he’s shifted all of his plating until you make a noise and touch him. And he’s arching again as those warm fingers cautiously stroke along the inner edge of his valve. “I won’t lose a finger if I touch you here, right?” You ask and he’s begging you to please touch him, aware that it’s a broken mix of your language and his, but you get what he wants. And one of your hands is gripping his spike, mouth sliding along the length of him as you press your thumb inside him, exploring. And you are trying to offline him, warm mouth moving against the head of his spike as you stroke inside him.

Hound

• Fingers fisting in the grass over your head, you’re momentarily dazzled as a cloud slides away from the sun. Tossing your head back, you can’t even care that you’re going to have leaves in your hair as his mouth slides against you, glossa tunneling inside you again and again. And you grab onto his helm, hips bucking on a breathless cry as you come apart, his head lifting, mouth pressing against your hip. Before encouraging you onto your hands and knees and shifting to cover you. Rutting against you with a growl as birds sing in the trees.

Trailbreaker

• Mouth brushing yours, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach, Trailbreaker groans as you roll your hips. Tightening on his spike with a breathless cry, shuddering and going still before you’re moving again. Straddling his lap, riding his spike. Cupping your cheek as he tips your face up, you tighten on his spike, movements becoming more urgent. Mouth exploring yours, his other hand slides over your hip. Making up to you with gentle touches after your last argument. Wants to do better for you, cut back on the engex. He’s not had a real reason to try in so long, but he wants to for you. And you’re trembling around his spike, mouth opening against the corner of his mouth as you come apart. Servos threading through your hair, he groans and rides it out before rolling you under him, hips rocking urgently. Too close to make it last as long as he’d like and your thighs are trembling against him, mouth open. “I can’t, please, I can’t,” you’re moaning, head back as he drives you to that peak again. Fills you again.

Sunstreaker

• Mouth brushing your jaw as he shifts against your back, spike hard again like he hadn’t just fragged you until you were an incoherent, whimpering mess, he runs the tip of a servo over your bottom lip. And you make a little noise of protest when he lifts your thigh enough to bury himself inside you again, your head pressing back against him when you arch. “Sunny,” you whimper, using Sideswipe’s nickname for him and startling a laugh out of him at the way you tremble. Content to just let you warm his spike for now as his servos run lightly over you. Enjoying the quiet with his brother out on patrol, not having to take turns with you. Not having to share your attention. Able to really relax with you in his arms. Hips lazily rocking against you even though he’d intended to let you get some rest. Wondering what it would feel like if you touched his spark while he was thrusting inside you.

Sideswipe

• Laughing as he catches you around the waist and pulls you into his frame, mouth closing on your neck and denta biting down hard enough to sting, you gasp. Growling playfully when you smack him and he bends you over the little human sized berth he’d convinced Wheeljack you needed. You’ve never actually slept on it, but mass displaced, it puts you at the right height. Pleased you’re naked already even though he can scent Sunny on you. “You been fragging Sunny? Taking good care of him?” He growls, servos finding you and stroking until you’re bucking your hips as he splays his other hand against the middle of your back to keep you pinned. Driving two servos inside you and thrusting them lazily as he rocks himself against your hip. Until you whimper. Slipping his servos free to make you moan a protest before his spike is stretching you and he groans at how you feel wrapped around him. “Gonna be so good for him, aren’t you? Let Sunny spark you.” Hips pumping, his optics shutter. Losing himself in the feel of you, needing to remind himself that there’s a line he can’t cross. That you’re for Sunny. To help heal him and this is all he can have of you.

#transformers x reader #sunstreaker x reader #sideswipe x reader #skywarp x reader #bulkhead x reader #g1 hound x reader #trailbreaker x reader #trailbreaker #g1 hound #tfa bulkhead #sideswipe #sunstreaker #skywarp

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jarofstyles · 23 hours ago

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Lights Out, Keep Warm

Hi lovelies! I’ve been waiting to give this one shot to you. Snowed in at the cabin is something I’ve always loved the idea of, and I hope this can make it something you dream of too.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 230+ exclusive writings and series.

WC- 4.6k

Warnings- loss of power, unprotected sex, creampie, slight size kink

It had seemed like a good idea, heading to the cabin for the weekend. It was supposed to snow a little, Harry had a stressful week at work and Y/N had no plans. The cabin in the mountains was one of their favorite weekend getaways, but it wasn’t lost on Harry that he needed to make some adjustments. They’d only gotten it 2 years prior and he knew he’d needed to do some work on it, but every time they went it was inevitable that they got distracted enough that he’d push it off to the ‘next time’. This time, however; he knew that he was not going to be able to do that.

They’d noticed the first flicker when the winds started to pick up. He’d resolved himself to know they’d be snowed in this weekend, but he was starting to regret not getting the generator from their house the more gusts of wind started to make the lights flicker. It was only a matter of time.

As they sat on the sofa waiting for the cookies to bake, he heard a snap from outside and it was over. The power at the cabin flickered one last time and died, plunging them into darkness.

It was pointless to go out there and check. He could see from the windows how hard the snow was coming down. It was a tomorrow sort of problem… but he couldn’t deny that it was going to mean a far less comfortable night. Harry cursed under his breath, not liking the cold that was quickly settling in. He wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close as he sat down on the couch from his observation outside the window. "Fuck, it's cold." he grumbled, his teeth chattering slightly.

"Come ‘ere," he mumbled, burrowing his face into her neck and wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "You're like a human heater." he complained, his breath warm against her skin. He nuzzled closer, trying to absorb her warmth like a cat. "Think we should jus’ stay like this until the power comes back on."

Y/N giggled softly, curling into his embrace as she felt his body pressing against hers in the darkness. "Well, aren't you resourceful?" she teased, running her fingers through his hair to soothe him. "Using me as your personal space heater now." His playful groan against her neck made her smile widen. "You were the genius who thought baking cookies in a cabin with questionable wiring was a good idea," she quipped, pulling the blanket over them.

"Sure, of course. Blame my brilliant mind for underestimating the cabin's electrical system and the winds it can withstand." he mumbled into her neck. "At least we can at least attempt to keep warm now," he purred, letting his lips brush over her collarbone. "And you smell like vanilla and whatever else you put in the cookies, which is making the this whole thing much more bearable." He shifted slightly, his leg throwing over hers to entwine them together. That wasn’t enough, though.

As they huddled together on the couch, the room grew noticeably colder by the minute. His large hands splayed out on her stomach, his fingers splaying out to cover as much of her warmth as possible. "Damn it, why is it getting colder?" he complained, his breath washing over her throat. "I need more of your heat." he grumbled, his body shifting until she was practically sitting on top of his lap.

"Come on, closer," he insisted playfully, adjusting his position to make her more comfortable atop his lap, splaying the blanket over her shoulders to make a little cocoon for them, leaving their head and neck out. "This is like... the best worst situation ever.” He muttered against her skin, pressing small kisses along her neck to distract himself. "Being forced to hold you this close in the dark." His hands moved slowly up and down her back in comforting strokes. "Though I'm definitely not complaining about the cuddles." He nipped softly at her earlobe, making her shiver.

Y/N let out a soft sigh, squirming slightly in his lap as she felt his teeth on her. "You're such a flirt, even when you're cold and grumpy." she accused, tilting her head to give him better access. "And for the record, I'm not complaining either." Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape. "This is kind of cozy, isn't it? Being stuck in here with you."

"Cozy is an understatement." he agreed, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her up against him. "I'm starting t’think the power going out was a blessing in disguise," he joked, his fingers splaying out on her lower back. "Who needs lights when I have you glowing like a little human heater in my arms?" He chuckled, the sound rumbling against her.

"You're...warm. Warmer than the fireplace I was counting on." Her laughter was soft, breathy as she sunk into the body head they shared. "You think our cookies are okay?" she asked, pressing a gentle kiss just below his jawline, making him shiver. "Or have they gone completely hard in the cold?"

Her voice held a playful innuendo that made him smirk in the darkness. "Not as hard as I am right now..."

“Oh trust me, I can feel how hard you are.” It had taken her by surprise to feel him against her but she couldn’t say she didn’t like it. “Though I will say I much prefer your type of hard.”

Harry's breath hitched at her playful words, his body reacting instantly to the innuendo. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me." he grumbled. "Let's just say the cookies aren't the only thing getting hard in this cold, but at least mine can be useful.." He leaned in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up desire and affection into it.

"I swear, if the power doesn't come back on soon, I might just have to warm you up in other ways," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky. His hands slid down to grip her thighs, squeezing gently as he pulled her core flush against him. "Though I have to admit, I'm kind of enjoying this forced intimacy too much." He nipped at her bottom lip, grinning in the darkness as she pouted against his mouth.

"Oh?" She questioned softly against his lips, her heart picking up. "And what exactly are these... other ways?" Her voice was breathy with anticipation, one hand sliding up his chest while the other remained wrapped around his neck. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her touch, matching her own rapid rhythm. The darkness seemed to fuel her courage, and she shifted slightly in his lap, making his breath hitch audibly. "Maybe I'd like to find out.”

"Jesus Christ, you little minx." Harry whispered, his grip on her thighs tightening as he pulled her even closer. His lips moved to her neck, trailing hot kisses as he breathed against her skin, "You're playing with fire, love." The irony of that sentence was not lost on him. One hand moved up to cup her face while the other stayed firmly on her thigh, his thumb tracing small circles. "Are you sure you want me to show you?" His voice was hoarse with desire, his control hanging by a thread in the dark intensity of the moment. "Because once I start… m’not sure I'll be able to stop." he finished, his words a low rumble against her throat. He dragged his lips along her collarbone, the scrape of his stubble leaving tingling trails on her skin. His hand on her thigh inched upward, fingers slipping teasingly beneath the hem of her shirt. "S’that what you want, sweet girl?" he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "For me to touch you in the dark?"

Y/N arched into his touch, a breathless moan escaping her lips at the feel of his fingers slipping beneath her shirt. "Yes," She breathed out, the word barely audible in the charged air between them. "I want all of you, Harry. Every inch." Her nails raked lightly down his back as she clung to him, her body trembling not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming need coursing through her veins. "Show me, baby.” She challenged, her voice trembling ever so slightly with need. "Touch me."

He groaned, the sound vibrating against her as his hands finally pushed her shirt up to bunch around her waist. His fingers splayed out on her bare stomach, inching upward slowly. "You're asking for trouble." The man warned, her breath hitching as his hands reached the underside of her breasts before going down, fingers hooked into the waistband of her leggings, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her belly.

Y/N's back arched as his fingers slipped inside to brush against her lace underwear, her breath catching in her throat. She could feel herself growing wet, her cunt aching as she realized just how much she actually needed this. "I want it. Don’t care if it’s trouble." she whispered back, hands fisting in his hair as she pulled his mouth back to hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

He swallowed her whimpers as his fingers finally hooked into the waistband of her leggings and slowly, slowly pulled them down. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses along her jaw as his hands worked to remove it. "Lift f’me." he whispered, his anticipation growing. "Please, baby." She took the direction well- just like she always did. His fingers curled around her thighs, helping to lift her legs as he slowly peeled her leggings and underwear off, leaving her bottom half bare in his arms. Pulling the blanket back over them, he placed another delicate kiss to her lips, letting them stick for a moment. “Need t’keep the shirt on. it’s too cold for you to be fully naked… what a shame.”

One hand cupped her over her pussy, his middle finger slowly sliding through her wet folds making her gasp loudly. "Fuck you're wet." he whispered in awe, his voice thick with desire as he began to stroke her gently. "Soaked through just from my touch... my girl wants it bad, doesn't she?" The cool air of the cabin contrasted sharply with the heat between her legs as his fingers explored her. “God, you're gorgeous like this, all hot n’ready for me, even in the freezing cold." He licked a his lips before capturing hers in another searing kiss, swallowing her moan as his fingers circled her clit deliberately. "I could keep you warm all night long, couldn't I?"

Y/N nodded, clutching onto his shoulders as her hips moved slightly. He could touch her the whole night and she’d happily preen and melt into him. Harry had the handbook to how to make her feel good, and she wasn’t going to deny him. She didn’t want to.

"Mmm, that's what you needed. Go ahead n’make yourself feel good.” he praised, his fingers moving in teasing circles over her clit as she rocked against him. "Use me, take what you need." His other hand slid under her shirt, cupping her breast as he took her mouth in deep kisses. He could feel her body trembling with need, her hips moving more urgently against his fingers.

Just being touched like this was making her hot. No power and snowstorm be damned, she knew at the end of this she was going to be a sweaty mess. She always was.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy, baby. Jus’ like you always do." He sighed against her lips, his fingers picking up speed over her clit. Her wetness coated his digits, making the motion slick and addictive. "I can feel how badly you need me." He pinched her nipple through the fabric of her shirt, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her cunt. His cock throbbed insistently against her thigh, reminding her of his own desperate arousal. "Tell me what you want, Y/N."

"Want you inside me, Harry," the girl breathed out, her voice shaking slightly as he slipped a finger inside of her. "I need your cock, please. I need you to fuck me, fill me up, make me forget about the cold and the darkness." Her hips rocked against his hand again, seeking friction. She gasped as he pulled his finger out, her pussy clenching desperately around nothing.

"This what you want, Y/N?" He teased, his tip brushing against her through the thin sweatpants. "My thick, hard cock stretching you out, filling you up completely?" He paused, his voice a dark hum that warmed her bones. "Ask me again.”

"Please, baby…" she whimpered as she felt him pressing against her. "Fuck me. I need your cock to warm me up. Please just put it in me." Her hips rolled, trying to push herself onto his length. "M’so cold.”

He crooned, a low rumble in his chest. "Cold, huh? Let me see if I can heat you up." With a swift motion, he pulled his throbbing cock out of his sweats, letting it spring free. The head was already slick with precum, pulsing with need for her as he positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the tip teasingly through her wet folds. "This better, sweetheart?" His voice was playful, but there was a desperate edge to it, mirroring his arousal.

"Mhm…" She sighed in relief, arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she needed him. She was needy, cold and horny now, her pussy clenching around nothing. He always managed to work her up from 0 to 100. "Just fuck me, Harry. I can take it." Her teeth grazed against his ear as she spoke, her body seeming him out. "Please?" She rocked her hips against him, trying to push his cock inside her aching cunt on her own.

He let out a hiss in pleasure as the tip of his cock caught on her entrance, the warmth and wetness enveloping just the head. "Fuck, tiny little cunt. Shouldn’t be able t’fit, but we’ll make it. Won’t we?" He cooed, his hips jerking forward slightly, pushing the tip inside her. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he began to slowly slide deeper. "So fucking tight and wet for me." He bottomed out with a satisfied grunt, his balls pressing against her ass.

"God, you’re always so incredible," he breathed out, his hands sliding around to grip her ass as they both adjusted to her pussy being fully sheathed inside her. "Taking me so deep like this... fuck, you're perfect." His voice was ragged with desire as he slowly pulled back before thrusting in again, establishing a steady rhythm. The darkness enhanced every sensation - the tightness of her pussy around his cock, the scent of her arousal, the way she clung to him for warmth.

He began to move inside her with slow, deep thrusts, his large hands holding her in place as he kept his cock buried inside her warm, wet cunt. Dripping just for him. It amazed him each and every time, how she was tailor made just for him. "Gonna keep you warm, baby," he muttered against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Gonna keep you wrapped up in my arms and my cock all night long." He picked up the pace slightly, his hips hitching forward to bury himself inside her with a soft grunt each time. "Fuck, you're so warm... so fucking warm. This is how you’re gonna keep me warm. With this perfect pussy.”

She whimpered and clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she felt every twitch of his cock as he kept himself deep inside her for a moment after every thrust. "Fuck I... Harry.” She bleated, her breath hitching as he filled her up completely. "You fuck me so good. More... more." she begged, her body starting to shake less from cold and more from the building heat between them. "S’working... you're warming me up." She nuzzled into his neck, the labored breaths washing over his skin.

"Mmm, that's right m’love." he groaned, feeling her tighten around him. "I'll keep you warm up all night long." His thrusts grew stronger, more urgent, his hips slapping against hers in the darkness. "God, I love how you squeeze me, baby..." He nipped at her earlobe, tongue tracing the shell. "Think I need t’keep my cock in you all night. What do you think?”

"Yes." she gasped, as he fucked up into her. "Keep it in me all night, please. Don't ever take it out." Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, holding him close as she rocked her hips to meet his thrusts. "I need it, Harry. I need your cock inside me all the time." She moaned loudly, her voice echoing in the silent cabin as he continued to fuck her hard and fast, his thick length stretching her open with every push.

As they moved together, the blanket gradually slipped lower, revealing her little sleep tee and the swells of her breasts beneath it. He could feel the cool air kissing their skin, making him groan. There was something about the contrasts of hot skin and cool air that drove him mad. "Blanket's falling," he murmured, his fingers curling around her shoulder to keep it in place. "Should I let it drop?" He punctuated his question with a deep, rolling thrust that made her whimper and cling to him tighter.

"Okay, my sweet girl. Let me see you then." he purred as she nodded eagerly beneath him. The blanket fell away completely, pooled around their waists as he continued to thrust into her. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her hardened nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Keep grinding on me. Make sure t’keep my cock nice and warm for me, sweetheart." His breath was hot against the damp material, lips curling into a smirk as he felt a shudder run through her at the tease.

He latched onto one stiff peak through the cotton of her shirt, sucking hard as he continued to feel his cock sink her. She let out a high-pitched whine, her body bouncing shallowly on his lap as he ravished her sensitive nipples. The wet fabric clung to her skin, going almost transparent to show the circles of her areolas. "So fucking hot," he mumbled against her breast, popping off to pay equal attention to its twin. His large hands gripped her hips, lifting her slightly to meet his thrusts.

She could feel his thick shaft throbbing inside her as she bounced on his lap, the sensation making her slightly dizzy. Her pussy clenched around him rhythmically, dripping onto his cock and balls with each movement. The wet, obscene sounds of their fucking filled the cabin, driving them both insane. It was filthy, it always was, but that’s what she liked about it. "Fuck, can you feel that?" He groaned, feeling her slick walls engulfing him. "Your pussy's leaking all over me, Y/N. So goddamn wet and messy."

His cock pulsed inside her dripping cunt, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. He loved how her cream coated him, making his thrusts slick and effortless. "That's it, baby, squeeze my cock." He encouraged through gritted teeth, his hips snapping up to meet her bounces. "Gonna fuck this perfect pussy all night long until you're soaked in cum and sweat." He leaned in, capturing her lips in a sloppy kiss, swallowing her moans as he pounded into her relentlessly.

She was a mess on his lap, her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked face, her shirt riding up to bunch up with its wet patches on her nipples, and her bare thighs trembling as she bounced on his fat cock. "Harry... Harry," she panted, her voice hoarse and broken as he continued to slam into her. "I can’t.”

He knew her well enough to hear the tone of her voice, notice her legs quaking and her bounces growing less enthusiastic. With a soft coo, he wrapped his arms around her and stood up, his cock still buried deep inside her. "Oh, my sweet baby. Legs giving out on me?" That was something he could easily take care of, laying her down on her back and settling between her spread thighs. "Don't worry, I'll do the work now. You just lay there n’let me keep you warm."

Laying half on top of her, his arm wrapped around her to keep her tucked beneath him as he continued to fuck her. His chest pressed against her tits, his lips against her temple as he buried his face in her hair. The warmth of his body enveloped her, making her shiver with relief as he kept her covered and protected from the cold. His hips never slowed, his thick cock pounding into her relentlessly as he fucked her into the couch.

"There we are. That’s what m’girl needed, hm? Just needed me close, all the way inside you." he murmured against her temple as her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper. The new angle let him hit her perfectly, making her gasp and claw at his back. "Let me get that spot. Know just what you need." His weight pressed down on her, trapping her beneath him as he fucked her. One hand slid under her ass, tilting her hips to change the angle and make each thrust maximize her pleasure.

She was lost in a haze of warmth and pleasure, her legs locked around Harry's hips as he fucked her into the couch. Her arms wrapped around his back, clinging to him as he pressed her into the cushions with each thrust. "Oh my god." she whimpered, her voice muffled against his shoulder as she buried her face in his neck. "You’re keeping me so warm... don't stop, please don't stop..." Her body was jostled with each impact, her pussy clenching rhythmically around his thick length.

She was close to the edge. He knew it so well. It was in everything he could feel her walls fluttering around his cock, her breath hitching in her throat, and her fingers digging into his back. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged. "You're so close, I can feel it. Cum f’me, let me feel you fall apart on my cock." His hips moved faster, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased her orgasm. "Squeeze me, Y/N. Milk my cock with that tight little cunt."

Her entire body tensed, her back arching off the couch as she teetered on the edge. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears as she fought to hold back the impending orgasm. Her pussy was a vice around his cock, clenching and unclenching rhythmically as she struggled to contain the building pressure. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and her legs tightened around his hips, trying to keep him buried inside her as the climax threatened to consume her. It was too good- Y/N didn’t want it to end.

Harry knew all about it. "Let go for me, love... let go and feel me fill you up," he whispered urgent against her lips. "I wanna feel your sweet cunt milk every drop from my cock," he growled, his thrusts becoming more forceful. One hand slid between them to firmly press on her clit, pushing her over the edge. "Come on, baby... cum all over my cock," he encouraged hoarsely, his own release building in his balls. "Want to feel you dripping with my cum.”

Her body never disobeyed him. He owned her in ways no one else ever had, and it was exactly why his permission had her falling over the edge, her vision blurring as the orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy spasmed around his cock, clamping down as she came hard. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through her, each contraction milking his dick and forcing him deeper. Harry grunted, his hips jerking as he struggled to hold back his own climax. He rubbed her clit firmly, prolonging her orgasm as he fucked her through it, getting every drop of her pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Harry... please fill me up." she begged, her voice cracking with desperation. High off her orgasm and the need to make sure he was pleasured to, she needed it to feel complete. The feel of him throbbing inside of her was all the confirmation he needed. "I need your cum inside me... I need to feel you leaking out of me all night." She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, using her heels to push him deeper. "Cum. Cum in me. I need to feel it."

"Fuck!" He hissed, finally losing control. She was pleasured, she was comfortable, and he knew he could give in to his need. His cock swelled and he began to cum, pumping his hot seed deep into her. Right where it belonged. "Take it all, baby... take every fucking drop- fuck, I love you." He grunted, his hips jerking as he filled her completely. Harry could feel his cum leaking out around his still-pulsating shaft, creating an sticky, wet mess between them- his favorite. "God, you look so gorgeous like this... full of me."

She lay there, her eyes closed in bliss, a soft smile on her lips as she basked in the satisfaction of being filled with him. Her body felt heavy and relaxed, her mind drifting in a haze of contentment. She felt a little dribble of his cum escaping her full pussy, trailing down her thigh as she lay there, surrounded by him but it didn’t bother her. Harry was everywhere. Inside her, around her, on top of her… everywhere she always wanted him to be.

He gently kissed over her face, his lips brushing against her forehead, cheeks, and mouth in a tender, loving caress. This was what she deserved. Everything he could offer.. Once he was satisfied she was calm and comfortable, he tugged the blanket back over them, wrapping her up in his arms and his warmth.

He gazed down at her with a playful smirk, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. Perhaps he’d gone overboard considering how she was now covered in a light sheen of sweat, but he loved the view. The feeling. Everything about her. "So, think I managed t’keep you warm enough?" His voice was soft, tinged with amusement. The blanket cocooned them, trapping their combined heat, wanting to ensure she wouldn't feel even the slightest chill. "Warmer than the cabin fire, surely?" He quirked an eyebrow, awaiting her response with an expectant grin.

He really could be a little shit sometimes.

She rolled her eyes playfully, snuggling deeper into his arms with a contented sigh. "Much warmer, you idiot. Almost too warm now.” She teased, fanning herself dramatically. "Guess we'll just have to endure being wrapped up in our sexy little blanket for the rest of the night." Her eyes tinged with trouble as she gazed up at him, her swollen lips curving into a sultry smirk. "Think you can handle keeping me this warm all night?" "Oh, I think I'm more than up for the challenge, gorgeous girl." he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth. “Think the storm isn’t going to end until the morning. We’ve got plenty of time to spend.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry smut #Harry fluff #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshots #harry styles one shots

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bugisastranger · 2 days ago

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hey babe 🩷 if you have the time or inspiration to write please consider fake dating to lovers with Clark Kent, like a to all the boys I’ve loved before typa situation

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! sorry it took me a bit to get around to it - i can be a busy busy gal.

"you want me to what?"

clark's voice is unlike anything you'd ever heard from him, his shock nothing less than apparent. you shush him, looking around the hallway to see if anyone's noticed. it's lucky for you that nobody did.

"come on, clark. it's one night! not even! it's like, a few hours at most."

"can't you ask someone else? pete?"

"i don't want to ask pete. he won't be able to sell it."

"and you think i can?" he's exasperated, leaning closer to you as if he's suddenly aware how many people could overhear this conversation. "i'm a horrible liar."

"please? you know how my family can be," you whisper, looking up at clark. he sighs, hanging his head. he does know how your family can be—overbearing—which is exactly why he's hesitant. but you're you, so how can he actually say no?

"okay. okay, fine."

"really?" you ask, nearly jumping out of your skin. your arms slide around clark's neck as you excitedly let out a few small 'thank you's. clark's still frozen in place from his decision, but forces one of his arms to slide awkwardly around your hip. he's in for it, isn't he?

the ringing of the school bell pulls the two of you apart, and you quickly shut your locker, making your way towards your first class. clark keeps his place beside you. "so, what does this mean, exactly? what do you want from me?"

"jeez, clark, that sounds like i'm holding you hostage. it's just a favor."

"yeah, yeah. whatever. what do you need me to do?" he asks, taking his seat next to you at the lab table.

"i don't know. whatever feels natural," you say, bending to the side to pull your textbook out of your bag, a gesture which clark never would've took a second glance at. but today, with your hair falling in front of your face (and then you pushing it away), something's different. he doesn't even notice he forgot to say something in response to you until you glance back at him, confused at his silence.

"uh—" he clears his throat. "how am i supposed to know what's natural? we've never dated before." oops. overly sarcastic.

"have you never even considered it?"

"what?" clark's baffled by your question, but you ask it so casually, like it's not taking the ground out from beneath his feet. it's not that he hasn't considered it. it's that he has. he knows all too well how he wants to walk with his arm around your shoulders, how he wants to have you cuddle into his side as you watch a movie, how he wants to absolutely spoil you—as if he has the money for that anyway. "i—"

"you know what? forget i said that. i don't wanna know," you mutter. "just, like, pretend like you're obsessed with me, i don't know."

"hey, lovebirds! you done?" the teacher calls from the front of the classroom.

as clark starts, "oh, we're n—"

you say, "sorry! we're sorry." and then the both of you, red in your faces, stay silent. you barely even move, feeling reprimanded, even though your teacher was barely offended.

when the teacher lets the class work in pairs, clark decides to use the time to talk to you instead. he could do the work later. "can you just give me an idea of what the night's going to look like, at least?"

you take a quick glance at the teacher, making sure her eyes aren't on you and clark. "you'll come over and i'll introduce you as my boyfriend. my parents won't be suspicious, because i'll start bringing it up today. and they won't be too intimidating. my uncle might, but they'll love you. there's something about you that screams 'good guy' and they'll pick up on it." you twirl the pen in your hands. "it'll be fine. you have nothing to worry about, really." clark feels his heart skip a beat when you place your hand on his bicep—which is supposed to be a comforting gesture. what's happening to him? you've touched him before. plenty of times, actually. this shouldn't mean a thing.

a few days later, and clark is taking deep breaths as he walks down the path to your front door. before he can even meet the porch, you're outside, greeting him. he nearly stops in his tracks when he sees you, your hair half up, half down. the dress you're wearing is baby pink, and something about this sight—seeing you so... girly does something to him, even if he won't admit it.

"hi," you say, breaking the awkward silence. "ignore the dress, i'm trying something a little different."

"no, it's good. you look great," he forces. and then, he remembers he's supposed to be your boyfriend, he's allowed to flirt with you. "you look really pretty." he swears he sees your expression change, like you're nervous. it makes his hand tense, and he nearly crushes the stems of the flowers he forgot he's holding. "oh, these are for you."

"thank you. this is..."

"good enough, i hope?"

"better. i knew you wouldn't let me down."

"can't leave my girlfriend hanging, can i?" oh. oh. that gets you. and clark knows it, too.

"uh—" you start, looking at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and infatuation. "we should go inside."

and as you're walking towards your front door—"i should call you something, shouldn't i?"

"what?" you turn back around, facing him.

"honey," he tries. "no, too mature. babe?" clark watches your reactions carefully, and even though you seem affected, 'babe' doesn't have the punch he was hoping for. "sweetheart?" bingo.

"sweetheart is fine," you mutter, trying to ignore the way your face heats up.

"okay, sweetheart. you ready for this?" you nod, walking towards the door with clark at your side. "what about princess?"

"too much. you can't call me that in front of my family."

"but i can call you that when we're alone?"

"clark!"

"it's just a question, sweetheart," clark teases, fighting back a chuckle. he could do this the rest of his life.

part two coming soon?!

#clark kent smallville #clark kent x reader #smallville x reader #pete mention #clark kent #need him to call me sweetheart rn

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chxnsgirl · 10 hours ago

Text

방찬 ─── red

[ ⟡ ] ── NSFW, MDNI! ✁ idol bf!chanx afab!reader , rough sex , no prep , unprotected p in v , safe word used , channie is angy in this this was a request ♡ i hope you like it ! [ 1.1 k words ] ♡ masterlist

after a long, exhausting day, you lay curled up on the bed you shared with your boyfriend, chan, waiting for him to return home. you knew today had been stressful for him—his boss was reviewing the album he had spent countless hours perfecting. if anything needed to be changed, it would mean more late nights, more frustration, and more pressure weighing on his shoulders. chan was a perfectionist, and having to redo something, no matter how small, always put him on edge.

you and chan had established a free-use dynamic, mostly because it worked for you both. chan was always busy, and nine times out of ten whenever he came home from work you were too tired to fulfill his needs anyway.

when the bedroom door finally opened, you immediately sensed his agitation. he walked in with heavy steps, his jaw clenched, brows furrowed, and his dark eyes shadowed with frustration. his muscular arms flexed as he set his bag down, veins visible from what you could only assume was an intense gym session—one that clearly hadn’t helped him cool off.

“hi, baby,” you greeted softly, your voice gentle, almost cautious, as you sat up on the edge of the bed.

he barely spared you a glance as he pulled off his beanie, ruffling his damp curls. “hey,” he muttered.

you frowned, setting your phone down and giving him your full attention. “what’s wrong?”

he didn’t answer—not with words. instead, he took a step forward, towering over you, his gaze heavy and unreadable. your heartbeat picked up. chan rarely got truly angry, but when he did, it was intimidating.

before you could say another word, his hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks as he crashed his lips against yours in a rough, desperate kiss. you gasped in surprise but quickly melted into him, sensing his need for release. his hands roamed your body, and soon, he had you pinned beneath him, his palm wrapping around your throat in a loose but firm grip. his frustration poured into every movement—the way his fingers dug into your skin, the way his hips pressed insistently against yours.

without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach, tugging your nightgown up and your panties down in one swift motion. you barely had time to process before a sharp smack landed on your ass, making you jolt with a soft gasp.

the sound, the reaction—it only seemed to fuel him. his large hands kneaded the flesh before teasing the entrance of your cunt with the head of his cock. your breath hitched, and you gripped the sheets.

“chan—”

another slap, harder this time. then, without hesitation, he pushed into you, stretching you in one deep thrust. you whimpered, trying to glance back at him, but he gripped your hair, pressing your face into the mattress as he set a relentless pace.

there was something different about him tonight—something almost dangerous. he wasn’t speaking, wasn’t checking in. his grip was unyielding, his thrusts forceful, his touch rougher than usual. the air felt thick with his frustration, and suddenly, an unsettling feeling crept into your chest.

your breathing became labored, not just from the overwhelming sensation but from the way he pressed you down, restricting your movement. the usual pleasure was overshadowed by discomfort.

“ch—chan,” you tried to speak, your fingers clawing at the sheets. he didn’t respond.

your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“r-red! red!” you gasped out, your voice strained.

his body went rigid the second the word left your lips. the haze of frustration clouding his mind lifted in an instant, replaced by something colder—dread. his grip on your hair released immediately, his hands pulling away as if he had touched something scalding.

“shit,” he breathed, scrambling to move off of you.

you took in a shaky breath as you finally had room to move, your fingers still gripping the sheets like a lifeline. chan hesitated before gently touching your back, his voice softer now, laced with guilt.

“baby… are you okay?”

you turned over slowly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breathing. his eyes were wide, no longer dark with frustration but filled with worry. his lips parted as if to say something else, but he clamped them shut, jaw tightening as the weight of what had just happened sank in.

you swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “you weren’t listening to me.”

his heart twisted painfully at that.

“i know,” he murmured, running a hand through his curls in frustration—this time, not at his job, but at himself. “i wasn’t thinking—i wasn’t in the right headspace. fuck, i should’ve stopped before we even started.”

he reached for you, but you flinched just slightly. barely noticeable, but to chan, it was like a knife to the chest. his stomach dropped. had he really scared you?

his hands curled into fists, his nails pressing into his palms as he forced himself to stay still, to not touch you until you wanted him to.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

your eyes softened at the raw remorse in his expression, but the lingering unease in your chest made you hesitate. you had always wanted to be there for him, to help him through his stress, but tonight had been different.

“i know you didn’t,” you said softly. “and i want to help you, chan. i always do. but… you were too rough this time. i was scared.”

his breath caught in his throat.

scared.

he felt sick.

chan swallowed hard and finally reached out, slower this time, giving you the chance to pull away. when you didn’t, he gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a silent apology.

“i’m so sorry,” he murmured. “i let my frustration take over, and i wasn’t thinking about you—about us.” he exhaled shakily, his other hand moving to lace his fingers with yours. “that’s never going to happen again. ever.”

you squeezed his hand lightly, finding comfort in his warmth, in the sincerity in his voice. “i trust you, chan,” you said. “i just need you to talk to me. if you’re upset, tell me. we’ll figure it out together.”

his eyes glistened, and he nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “i will,” he promised. “i swear i will.”

he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, letting his warmth surround you as he gently rocked you back and forth. you felt the tension in your body slowly melt away as you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“i love you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

you sighed softly, your fingers curling into his shirt. “i love you too.”

and as chan held you, he made a silent vow to himself—to never let his anger blind him again.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @nickgurl4life

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doeeyedmeanie · 3 days ago

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a hero always watches ….? J•T x fem!reader..

A not so pretty part two… usual creep Jason so be warned ..!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

There you stood , tightest skirt imaginable and just a bra on as you slinked around your room searching for your shirt..the see through shirt that always left Jason hungry . Jason was watching like usual, one hand palming himself while another hand shakily held onto his phone to watch the little scene of you and your usual routine . The sun hitting your skin just perfectly, hair damp from the shower , bra clasped a little too tight and pushing everything up, skirt shaped so nicely around your figure that your thong underneath could be made out from the fabric print , thigh high white socks making your skin look even more off limits and black kitten heels making you appear almost statue like . You searched for half an hour for your shirt, looking around and bending at almost everything ; causing Jason’s hips to jolt foward occasionally from the view . If only you knew what you were doing to him.

You practically dashed out the house once you had your shirt on , hand clasping your keys and bag as you locked the door shut behind you . Jason paused briefly , remembering he had a key for your apartment…would it be so bad if he just snooped..? Checked your apartment for criminals..? No no that’s a good thing , he’s a hero..that’s his job..right ?

Well Jason didn’t care if it was right or even wrong , he was on his way to your apartment in seconds..only this time he was without a mask or a suit…he just looked like an average guy…well not that average looking of a guy due to the various scars , the height of him and oh yeah…the giant muscles he had . He made swift work of breaking into your apartment, opening your door and checking his phone to see if your commute to work was going well. He shut the door behind himself , making his way to your room . Inhaling the smell of your usual perfume and the scent of you..hm he loved it .

He sighed , audibly before stretching and laying on your bed , “hmph..” he yawned , eyes on his phone and he rolled around and absorbed your scent like some kind of cat. One of his hands moving to open a side drawer , only finding a pack of condoms and various crystals. He shrugged , shutting that drawer before moving to your dressing table ; making work of opening it…the adrenaline rush causing his usual well put together mind to run and search for something..anything he could get his hands on.. he paused briefly once his eyes landed on a cute little pair of red panties . His tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, fingers tracing the fabric as he quickly pocketed the fabric - he’d definitely be using these for his usual activities for later.

A part of him wanted to scold himself for being so creepy , so weird and so disgusting but…the other part…allowed it, I mean a guy like him with a super mode babe like you? Yeah it seemed impossible to him so…he let himself get attached to the idea of this. The idea of you.

He slinked around your apartment, pocketing jewellery and a bag of chocolate you’d left out ; indulging in it as he walked around , both watching you from his phone and your apartment. He paused briefly just to watch you or more so…your boss talking to you..and your reaction .

Your boss was a well known overly wealthy guy, a creep or what Jason would class as a creep ; always getting you to stay behind or to tend to his every need..which pissed Jason off . You were supposed to tend to his every need, to be there for him to save you and go about your usual routine and right now your boss was keeping you from the usual mugging that happened outside of your office building. Jason rolled his eyes, pushing him self off your couch and out of your apartment , checking before fully leaving .

He was proud of himself , insanely, for breaking in and stealing some of your stuff . Too proud , too cocky about it..he’d probably go and do it again sometime , just to see..to check.

Jason made slow work of moving to go “check for thugs…” which meant he really was just checking for you and there he found you, outside your office waiting for your boss to leave . Jason had suited up mere seconds before running into you…he couldn’t let you see him looking too human, it’d ruin the illusion for you..right?

“Hey pretty..” he hummed , parking his bike just in time to trip a known thug from the area . His expression bored as he watched some baby faced cop make work of arresting the guy , he swiftly moved to place a hand around your waist .

“Red hood.” You greeted him with that usual soft smile and glint of innocence in your eyes , “we have to stop meeting like this..” you joked only for Jason’s grip to turn a little more possessive as he guided you to his bike.

You paused , tilting your head in confusion . Lips all parted and pretty under the street lamp as your hip hit the cold metal of Jason’s bike.

“Come on..it’s safer, you know how Gotham gets at night-“

“But it’s not night…it’s like..-“

“It’s gonna get dark soon,pretty…” he hummed , fingers tracing the bottom of your shirt ; accidentally lifting it a little to get a look at your skin underneath.

“I can walk-“

“I don’t care..” he shrugged , moving to pick you up , his hands gripping you as he placed you on the bike , “please..?” He mumbled , the pure thought of a hero begging you almost did something to you…your cheeks flushing in an instant at the whine.

“Fine but only cause-“ he cut you off with a gentle push , he didnt care to know your reason..he only cared to know that he had you listening to him. His hands guided yours to wrap around his waist , your chin gently leaning on his shoulder .

He set off , without warning , causing a yelp to leave your lips and your hands to grip him a little tighter ; the action causing Jason’s hips to jolt a little…god you were testing him right now . He made work of getting to your apartment , driving slow just to have this moment with you .

“You okay, pretty..?” He drawled out as he turned a corner , eyes trained ahead as to not distract him with the sight of you.

“Mhm..” You quickly answered , a mixed response..sure..to quick to answer probably indicating you were scared or maybe you just didn’t want to talk to him right now .

Once outside your apartment, he stopped ; parking up before sliding off and helping you off the bike and god the sight would stay with him forever . Your hair all wild, lips parted , cheeks flushed , skirt bunched and giving him a sight of your thighs , shirt sticking to your figure from the wind.

He gulped , hand hovering to help you off - you took it, gripping his hand as he led you into your building , maybe you did know what you were doing..or maybe you were completely oblivious..

You both paused once you reached your door, a smile on your face as you opened it, “do you wanna come-“

“Yes.” He quickly cut you off, entering your apartment almost immediately. You didn’t question it , you never did..this was the guy that managed to save your life multiple times a week and well..him wanting to be in your apartment probably just meant he wanted to check incase someone had broken in,right…??

Jason made work on getting comfortable on your couch, his eyes trained to you as you lazily shut your door and slinked into the kitchen , “do you want-“

“Cant drink or eat with the mask on, sweetheart.” He answered, cutting you off once again only this time would it work to fluster you…the pet name shooting heat into your body and causing a small hum to leave your lips ; Jason caught onto this .

“Right..” you mumbled , returning to your living room with a drink in hand . Eyes all doe like and watching him.

“Did work go well..?” He turned his head to watch you , thighs spreading to get ‘comfortable’ although the sight sent another wave of heat through your body.

“Yeah..” you hummed in response , eyes stuck on him as you lifted the cup to your lips, sipping it slowly enough for Jason to fully watch . Thank god for his helmet because he was looking at you with pure hunger , eyes trained to you , lips wet from his tongue darting out so many times .

There was tension in the air , a new tension that caused Jason to stand up . His hand moving to fix your hair , “I uh..” he paused, wanting to stay but..god he couldn’t get this close to you right now. He was torturing himself .

“Gotta go..?” You pouted , cup now placed behind you as you stared up at him, chest hitting his as you moved into his warmth . His hand playing with a loose strand .

“Yeah sweetheart..I gotta go..” he mumbled , voice all gruff and well…cocky enough for a part of you to want him to stay, to get lost in whatever this was. You pouted , a whine leaving your lips which caused Jason to pause ; his hand gripping your hair now moving to push your bottom lip open. You blinked for a moment, letting him do whatever.

He stopped himself , god he hated himself for this . He quickly moved off , gently pulling away but slowly enough for his hand to stroke your face , “I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty..” he scoffed , leaving almost as quickly as he’d entered now leaving you all confused and a little frustrated.

You stood there , watching the door close before you paused .. how on earth did you end up like this..? All star struck by some overly cocky hero…

// @jjenthusee

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #red hood #batman #jason todd fic #jason todd smut #jasontodd #arkham knight

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ariestrxsh · 21 hours ago

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dealer!chris x dealer!reader

💸 content warning: smut/angst (in later chapters; this one's mostly just suggestive), mentions of hard drugs and guns, enemies to lovers, slow burn

💸 summary: you and chris, new partners in crime, start moving your product along.

there will be several parts to this story, and they will contain sex, drugs, violence, use of weapons, and a lot of things that could be triggering if you've ever been apart of the drug world or loved someone with an addiction. i don't mean to glorify drug use, selling, or anything like that, but i wanted this story to be realistic, so it does appear like a somewhat "glamorous" lifestyle to chris and the reader in the first few parts. i want to make it very clear that when you get involved in the drug world in real life, you usually end up in one of two places: the ground or prison.

WHEN SPARKS FLY

chapters: | intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

"Hey, ma. You ready to move this shit or what?" Chris asked, his voice low and rapsy like he'd just woken up.

It was the next afternoon, and you had just pulled up to Daisy's house to pick up your new business partner, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed. He was leaned up against the open window of your passenger side door, a joint tucked between his lips and his grey hoodie pulled over his head.

"Hey, Chris. I was born ready. Get in. You're not bringing that shit in my car, though," you responded, motioning towards his joint. He rolled his eyes and gave you a playful smile. He took a final drag, blew it out the side of his mouth, and dropped the roach onto the ground, snuffing it out under his black Converse shoe and crushing it against the pavement.

He got into the passenger seat, and when he glanced back over at you, his mind flooded with the thoughts he'd had about you the night before. He was afraid he'd crossed a line with you, but it was complicated because it was only in his mind. He quickly pulled his guilty blue eyes off of you, worried that you'd see his fantasies written on his face if he stared at you for too much longer.

"We've got a few of my regulars we're meeting with today. I've already told them all that I'm bringing a colleague. Don't expect to be back home until dark. We have a lot of shit to move, and it isn't going to move itself," you relayed to him as you pulled away from the curb.

"Whatever you say, ma. It's your world, I'm just living in it," Chris replied, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "We've got a cake to deliver," You pointed out the bakery box in the back seat. "Deliver a cake?" Chris asked, pinching his eyebrows together in a confused expression as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.

"It's not really a cake, Chris," you replied, laughing at his naivety. "Here. You look like you're still half-asleep. I got you something to wake you up," you told him, gesturing towards the two coffees in your cup holder.

"Thanks, ma. I love it when you think about me when I'm not around," Chris flirted, playfully winking at you as he reached for his drink. You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Just drink your coffee," you responded in an unamused tone as you found your way out of the neighborhood.

The weather was cloudy and grey like the day before, but no rain yet, just a humidity that hung in the air and clung to your skin as you drove with the windows down. The two of you made your way through Long Beach traffic, hitting all the green lights until you pulled up in front of a seafood restaurant.

"What are we doing here, ma?" Chris wondered aloud, looking up from his phone as you threw your transmission into park. "Grabbing lunch," you casually stated, cutting the engine and unbuckling your seatbelt. "Hope you like fish."

"I mean, it's alright. You think we could go somewhere else to eat?" He politely asked. "No," you dryly responded, getting out of the driver's side of your Honda Accord. He sighed but trailed behind you.

The two of you waltzed into the restaurant, the smell of lobster and shrimp drifting through the air as you scanned the place. You locked eyes with a cook who acknowledged you with a nod. You elbowed Chris in the side to get his attention.

"That's our guy. His name is Joe. He's going on lunch in about forty-five minutes. We're gonna sit down, have a nice meal, and after we pay the tab, we're gonna meet him in the parking lot," you whispered to Chris.

"How much is he buying? A couple grams?" Chris assumed. "Are you kidding, Chris? Do I look like the kind of person who wastes my own time? I don't sell anything to anyone if it's less than a pound," you quietly snorted.

Chris widened his eyes at you. This whole time he'd been under the impression that the two of you were going to be moving cocaine the same way he moved weed - gram by gram, eighth by eighth, and sometimes when he got lucky, he'd sell an ounce.

"Holy shit, ma. We're gonna make that money back in no time," he mumbled to you with dollar signs in his eyes. "Our guy is buying two kilos today. It's the same order every time I re-up. He's more of a street dealer, so it takes him a little longer to sell the product," you explained.

"Aren't you nervous about doing a deal in such a public place?" Chris murmured, his gaze darting around the restaurant and noting how many people were around. "No. Deals done in secret are more dangerous than the ones done out in the open. People are always expecting drug deals to be happening at night, in dark alleys, at sketchy gas stations. People don't look at you twice in settings like this," you shrugged.

"Table for two?" The hostess inquired as she approached you with menus in hand, and you each smiled and nodded. She led you to a booth in the back near a window that gave you a view of the block that was bustling with life. The waitress stopped by, brought the two of you some waters, and told you she'd be back to take your order before floating off to another table, leaving the two of you alone.

"So, how'd you get into this business? What's your story?" Chris wondered, his gaze glued to the menu in front of him, scanning the various pictures of crab cakes and seafood medley. "You first," you shot back, laying your menu flat on the table and raising an eyebrow.

"Simple. Money," Chris shrugged without looking up. "We all got into it for money, Chris. What was the turning point that finally made you say, 'Okay, I'm doing this'?" You asked, propping your hand up on your elbow. He leaned in and lowered his voice, setting down his menu.

"Look, my mom and I grew up kinda broke, and she was in a bad situation with this abusive, piss poor excuse of a boyfriend she had. She was working three jobs and still couldn't scrape up enough cash to leave him, so I started moving some weed around, just enough to afford us a new place," Chris relayed to you in a serious voice, his piercing blue eyes locked on yours.

"Chris, I'm sorry.." you softly mumbled, reaching for his hand and brushing your thumb against his knuckles. For the first time, you felt some compassion for him. He'd always struck you as your average cocky and shallow weed dealer, but maybe there was some depth to him after all.

"I got us out of that situation. But even when you don't need dealing anymore, the thrill of making all that money, it gets comfortable. Then you want more," he admitted. In that moment, talking to Chris felt like having a conversation with yourself.

You knew exactly what he meant. You'd had that talk with yourself many times before, always saying you'd be satisfied next deal. You just needed a little more, and then you'd be pleased with it. Deep down, you knew no matter how much money you made, it would never truly be enough. You would always crave more.

However, it didn't keep you from hoping that every time, this would finally be the final time, and then you'd finally have enough to retire from this life go back to living a normal one.

"Do you guys still need time to decide?" The waitress asked, appearing out of nowhere and breaking you out of your thoughts. You quickly pulled away and cleared your throat when you realized you were still holding Chris' hand.

"I'm ready if you are," you told Chris, and he nodded, a sly smile lingering on his lips as he watched how quickly you'd snapped your hand back. You ordered the shrimp scampi, and Chris ordered fish tacos. When the waitress sauntered off to put your food in, Chris directed the conversation back to the question he'd originally asked.

"Alright, ma. I told you my story. You tell me yours. What got you into this business?" Chris asked, leaning back in his booth and giving you his full, undivided attention. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to share with him.

"I grew up watching my parents struggle with money. Crunching numbers just so we could afford to keep a roof over our heads and keep the lights on and water running. I swore that I was never going to live like that. I wanted the generational poverty in my family to end with me," you admitted.

"So, when I had a friend who sold weed, and his clientele started growing faster than he could keep up with, I offered to move some shit around for him. A one-time thing became a regular thing. Then he got busted, and I took over the business for him," you shrugged.

"I get that, ma. Nothing lights a fire under you faster than fighting for your survival and sense of security," Chris responded. This time he reached out and grabbed your hand, softly running his thumb along the back of it, a soothing gesture that you secretly liked but would never admit to him.

"How'd you get into selling coke?" Chris wondered. Your body language immediately shifted. You pulled your hand away, leaned back into the booth, and crossed your arms, diverting your eyes to anything else.

"You ask too many fucking questions. You know that, Sturniolo?" You snapped at him with an edge to your voice. "What? So you're not gonna tell me?" Chris wondered, sitting on the edge of his seat.

"Slow down, Chris. If we get to know every little thing about each other now, what will we talk about on the drive to the next deal?" You joked. "Whatever, ma. Keep your secrets. I didn't care anyway," Chris replied, pulling out his phone to respond to a text.

Just like that, the hand-holding, the intense eye contact, and the vulnerable conversation, it was all over. Back to business as usual, like you always were.

It only took a few minutes after ordering for the waitress to bring out your food. "Damn, that was fast. How'd we get our food before half these people that were here before us?" Chris wondered out loud as the waitress set his steaming plate down in front of him.

You flicked your eyes up to Joe, who was still visible from the front of the restaurant, and he gave you a subtle wink. "Joe's going on lunch early. Eat up," you said, lightly kicking Chris under the table as you placed your napkin across your lap.

The sounds of the restaurant echoed around you, silverware clanking against dishes, the many conversations happening all at once, and the unwavering sound of the sizzling grill in the back.

"Mmm. You know, I'm not usually crazy about seafood, but this is amazing," Chris commented, his mouth still full of his lunch as he spoke. "Just because I took you out for seafood doesn't mean I want to see your food," you teased him, but the smile that followed your comment was warm.

Your gaze flickered up, and you locked eyes with the cook who was making his way out the backdoor. "C'mon, Chris. Let's get the check and go," you demanded. "But I'm not done," Chris interjected, giving you a perplexed look.

"We'll get you a doggy bag, and you can eat in the car," you offered him with a smug smirk. "Yeah, you're real funny," Chris snarked back in a dry manner. The waitress came back around with a couple of Styrofoam boxes and the bill, and you handed the waitress $50 and told her to keep the change.

The three you met up in the parking lot shortly after. "This is Chris," you introduced him to your customer. "It's about time you get yourself a boyfriend," Joe chuckled. "She wishes," Chris muttered, cracking a smile. "No, it's nothing like that. We're just doing business together," you said, rolling your eyes and feeling your face grow warm.

"I mean, it's been, what, almost a year since everything with Alex? It's about time you get back out there," he started to say, but you cut him off. "You got my money?" You interrupted, changing the subject, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow.

Chris' gaze burned into you out of the corner of your eye. You could tell he had questions for you. What's he talking about? Who's Alex? What happened a year ago? However, this wasn't the time or place to answer them.

"Yeah, got it right here," Joe replied, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket. You took it from him and wandered over to your car, popping open the back door and reaching inside to grab the "cake" you were delivering.

"Pleasure doing business," you nodded at Joe as you passed it off to him. He accepted it, and the two of you were back on the road in no time.

"That was pretty slick, actually," Chris told you, surprised by how quickly the deal went down and how nonchalant it looked to the people in the vicinity. He sat hunched over in his seat, eating his fish tacos out of the Styrofoam box with his hoodie pulled over his head.

"Told you," you answered, checking your rearview mirror just to make sure you weren't being followed, a nervous habit you'd acquired in this business. "Who's Alex?" Chris piped up. "Chris, not right now," you said in a more serious tone than normal, giving him a long, hard stare that begged him not to press you for information on the subject. He got the hint.

"Okay, fine. What's the next place we're hitting? Is there going to be dessert included?" He inquired, changing the subject and smirking over at you. "No. You'll find out," you responded, cranking the wheel and turning down a street Chris didn't recognize.

"So, what are your goals, ma? You trying to become a sexy queenpin? Where do you see yourself in the industry in five years?" He asked, rolling down his window and sticking his hand out to feel the humid breeze. "Out," you responded without hesitation. "Out?" Chris asked, wrinkling his eyebrows and glancing over in your direction.

"Out of the game, Chris. Not doing this shit anymore," you reiterated. He gave you a perplexed look, like he wasn't expecting that. He was expecting you to give him a dollar amount you wanted to be making or a number of kilos you'd like to be moving at one time.

"I mean, think about it, Chris. If you go walk into a casino to gamble and you stay long enough, house is always gonna win. The trick is to make your profit and then pull out before you lose it all. That's what it is. It's a gamble. You just play your cards right, you take your money, and you get out. I wanna get out while I'm still up."

You remained pretty tight-lipped the rest of the day, hesitant to share much more with Chris than you already had. You were beginning to feel safe around him, but you didn't fully trust him just yet.

taglist: @skye-44 @faiyaz555 @idrk2292 @drewswife @trevorsgodmother @sofisturns @milo-the-dog @rockstarchr1s @bluetalia @xaristhings @nomusic-nodreams @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @drewstarkeysdoll @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #dealer chris #dealer!chris

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reikoinoue · 1 day ago

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notes: thank you so much for 50 followers ♡ here’s a little gift from me to all of you lovely readers ♡

general notes: caleb is 25 and reader is 23.

thinking about cockwarming with your step brother, caleb.

you decided to pay him a visit at his workplace, practically marching into his office like you owned the place. of course, you announced your arrival to caleb while he was in the middle of work, looking so pristine and proper in his uniform that you had to bite down on your bottom lip-

he looked so damn delectable that you felt a surge of need coursing through your veins.

perhaps it was a good thing that the men that served under him were a bit braindead, since they didn’t bat an eye at your outfit of choice for your inopportune visit: a skimpy camisole top that showed a tad bit too much skin, coupled along with the skirt that was several inches too short to cover much of anything. yet still, it doesn’t change the possessive anger that flashes within caleb’s magenta gaze.

“big brother, why can’t you just go home early and take care of me instead?” you made a show of leaning closer to him while he scanned over the reports on his desk, your glossy lips jutted out in a pout as you made sure to rub the curve of your clothed breast on his cheek. the sensation of it all causes caleb’s gloved hand to tightly grip at the papers, a low growl escaping from his lips when he meets your playfully innocuous gaze.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, pipsqueak. why don’t you head back home, be a good girl and wait for me.”

all too eager to defy him, you settle yourself on top of his desk, flipping back your hair while crossing your arms over your chest. “no! i came all this way to see you because i got bored. i won’t leave unless you come back with me!”

a sense of anticipation goes through you when caleb suddenly stands from his seat, giving you the perfect view of the tent forming in the front of his slacks. with one swift motion, he gives your ass a harsh smack!, causing you to cry out before he forces you down against his lap.

“you want to be a brat, then i’ll treat you like one.” your big brother raggedly whispers within your ear before swiftly removing your panties, leaving your cunt bare for him as you cling to his broad shoulders. there was the sound of shifting fabric, with caleb taking off his belt and pulling down his slacks, just enough to free his cock.

with your chest pressed against his, caleb impales your slick heat with his cock, making you cry out to him. the sensation of your walls eagerly swallowing each breathtaking inch of him causes your mind to go numb with pleasure. all too eager to move, you brace yourself on his shoulder, ready to bounce yourself on his cock when you suddenly felt a heavy weight bearing down on you. your moans quickly morph into frustration when you felt the tears dotting against your eyes.

no fair! your big brother was being mean to you again, using his evol to keep you from riding his cock!

“this is what you get for being so bratty while your big brother is at work.” caleb hisses at you, returning his attention back to his reports while preventing you from moving with his evol. you could practically feel the tears cascading down your cheek as you whimpered and begged him to let you move-

but your big brother was nothing if not a patient man, simply continuing to work like normal as you were left a whimpering mess by the end of it all.

and while you were left to suffer, caleb had to hide his shit-eating grin, marking through the reports with his pen all while thinking to himself-

i could get used to taming this bratty little sister of mine.

all stories are written by reiko; no plagiarizing, reposts, or translations are allowed.

#tw stepcest #.diary entries #caleb smut #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb x y/n #lads smut #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader

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strawbearyxx · 3 days ago

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love you softly— kang dae-ho x reader ❤︎

this is smut- minors dni please!

fem!reader x kang dae-ho

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“dae-ho…” you whined, feeling his soft hands slip between your legs to gently caress your inner thighs. “what is it baby, is this okay?” he speaks in a low but gentle voice with a hint of need, his darkened eyes almost pleading you to say yes. “yes dae-ho, please, i need you,” you manage to squeak out between your short breaths. dae-ho plants soft kisses on your neck as he starts moving his fingers to your clit. he rubs you softly, skilled hands moving in circles while he sucks gently on your collarbone. you can sense his neediness through his erratic breathing, only making you want him more. you grind gently against his fingers, needing to feel more of him. “you want me so bad, darling. i can tell,” he lifts himself from your neck just to smile at you, seeing you frantically nod in response. “dae-ho… just want you inside me…” you tell him. “hmm not yet, let me make you come first. then you’ll be nice and wet for me, yeah?” dae-ho slides your lace panties off and lowers his face between your legs.

he looks angelic like this— eyes dark with desire and strands of hair slightly obstructing your view of his face. he presses a couple soft kisses to your clit before gently flicking it with his tongue. you squirm slightly, stifling a moan as dae-ho continues circling his tongue around you. he then begins to suck on you, the feeling almost overwhelming. your legs shake around him while you clench around nothing, feeling dae-ho gently press his hips into the bed, needing friction. he slides a finger into you and starts slowly moving in and out of you. you gasp at the feeling, needing to be filled by him completely. “dae-ho, i’m close,” you whisper. he knows exactly what you need. his tongue presses a little harder onto your clit while his fingers curl inside you at the perfect angle. you couldn’t hold back anymore, releasing all over his fingers and his face with a cry of his name. he continues thrusting his fingers inside you for a few seconds before pulling them out and licking them clean. “you taste amazing, my darling,” he tells you as you blush and turn away from him. he grabs your chin, turning your flushed face back towards him. he looks at you with utter adoration before pulling you into a gentle but passionate kiss, the remnants of your release sweet on his lips. he’s pressing his bulge against you and you can tell just how much he wants you. “dae-ho, baby, do you need me?” you question, already knowing how he would respond. “yes… please darling, let me take you,” he breathed out, voice thick with want.

soon enough, dae-ho was lining himself up at your entrance. although you’ve had him many times, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size. he slowly pushed himself into you, the stretch painful but you enjoyed it nonetheless. dae-ho whined slightly at the feeling— he needed you so badly and wasn’t ashamed of showing it. he bottomed out inside you, filling you up completely. he looked down at you with the sweetest, most lustful eyes you think you’ve ever seen from him. “dae-ho, i need you to move… please…” you coax him, and he immediately starts gently thrusting into you. you simultaneously let out moans at the heavenly feeling, needing each other so desperately. dae-ho’s eyes were half-lidded with desire while he started to speed up his motions, quickly moving inside you. his hands grasped at your back, needing to be touching you all over. your hands are all over him as well, mainly wandering about his toned chest which you absolutely adored. dae-ho was embarrassingly close already— it was taking all of his strength to hold himself back from finishing deep inside you. he let out soft gasps with each thrust, the feeling of your tight walls too overwhelming for him. “ah.. darling, i’m close,” he whispers. “me too dae-ho, i just need you to come inside me, please… ah dae-ho,” you gasp as he sends you closer and closer to the edge. this was the final straw for dae-ho— with a soft moan of your name, his thrusts grow erratic and he finishes inside you. he continues moving to get you to finish, a hand slipping down to your clit and rubbing circles around it. you immediately came, vision going white as dae-ho continued his movements.

he collapsed on top of you, immediately burying his face into your chest while clinging to you. you thought it was so sweet how clingy he became after sex, you never wanted it to end any differently. your hands stroked his hair while you whispered sweet praises into his ear. “dae-ho, my baby, you felt so amazing.” you kissed the top of his head repeatedly, telling him how good he did between kisses. he clung tighter to you, telling you how much he loved you. after you had laid there for a while, you got up and dressed, and dae-ho drove you guys to your favorite fast food joint. he paid, of course :))

the end~

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

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peachbibi · 2 days ago

Text

the one in which you got sick and Spencer took care of you

genre: pure unadultareted fluff

warnings: nope

a/n: i was very sick for a couple of days and that was one of my fever dreams

Was it the crop top you wore in the middle of January when you went to an art gallery with Spencer? Was it the rain that caught you by surprise and left you all soaked and shivering? Or was it the window you left open after the shower before going to bed?

Frankly enough, you will never know. You do know that you’ve been feverish all night coughing your lungs out. Unfortunately, Spencer has been gone on the case for the last four days and you have no idea when he is coming back.

You rummage through the cupboards helplessly looking for medicine. A fruitless attempt since Spencer has a system you are not aware of. He always took care of you and it never crossed your mind to figure out where was the help coming from. It is your second year of living together and you are taking your time to figure it all out.

You give up. You are sweaty and dizzy and can’t stand on your feet for too long. As you crawl back into your bed, every muscle in your weak body starts shivering. You pull the thick duvet over your head and force yourself to fall asleep. Sleeping helps right? You are not a doctor and your limbs and eyes are too tired to google home remedies – sleep must do for now. The pillow smells like Spencer and you imagine him being in the bed with you.

A sound coming from the living room wakes you up. You slowly flutter your eyes open and do your best to sit up. The room is dark and only the street lights help your vision. Your head is heavy and it takes you a minute to realise that Spencer is here.

Spencer is here. He is standing in the doorway and you are sick and sweaty and wearing nothing but his old Caltech t-shirt and your underwear. His big brown eyes are searching your face before he drops his duffel bag to the floor and crouches next to your bed.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His big hand is like a compress on your burning forehead. You moan something in response. You hate how gorgeous he looks after a long way home.

“You should have called me. Or-or texted me. Anything! God, you are burning.” His big hand gently pushes you to lie back down.

“You should stay in bed. I take it you didn’t take any medicine”

You mumble something incoherent back. Spencers huffs and quickly disappears from your line of vision. You miss him. Tears burn your eyes because you already miss him so much. You close your eyes for a second and when you open them again he is back. There is something cool and soft pressed to your forehead. Spencer is holding a bowl of something that smells like chicken soup.

“Dearest, you need to eat something before taking any pills.”

He helps you to sit up straight and moves your hair out of your face. You sip on the chicken soup that taste like heaven.

“I made you some ginger tea with lemon and honey. And don’t scrunch your nose at me like that. I know you hate ginger but it will help to reduce inflammation and ease swelling in the respiratory tract.”

You set the empty soup bowl aside and started sipping on the tea Spencer made for you. His eyes are taking in your fragile state. You want to hug him and kiss him and take him to bed with you as if he is your teddy bear but – whether it is your weak body or you successfully fought the urge to do so – you don’t. You can’t risk getting your boy-genius sick as well.

“Take these pills and get some rest”

He offeres you two yellow tablets and you wash them down with a glass of warm water. Spencer tucks you in and kisses your forehead.

“Dont..” your voice thin and croaky.

“You will get sick” you cough as you try to explain yourself.

Spencer smiles softly and kisses you again.

“I have been in this room for more than three hours and I definitely inhaled millions of your germs. Kissing your forehead will hardly change anything now”

You cough again as you apologise.

“Please don’t. I just want you to get better. Get some rest”

With that Spencer leaves the room. Through the night you have woken up by your boyfriend who was trying to measure your temperature and make you take some medicine. Fortunately, his efforts paid off because you wake up feeling much better. Obviously, you are still sick and coughing but you can move your body without feeling like a puppet on strings.

“I’m glad you are better” Spencer smiles when you find him sitting on the edge of your bed. His hair is ruffled and he looks so homey and warm in his cotton pyjamas and glasses on.

“You should have some breakfast. I can make porridge”

He stands up but you pull him by the hand. Spencer almost falls on top of you which makes him giggle a little bit.

“I want to shower first”

He lookes at you for a second before he gives a nod with a sheepish smile

“Great, I will help you shower. A hot shower can generally provide comfort by relaxing your muscles and the steam can help soothe irritated airways and moisturize your throat and nasal passages-”

“Spencer, I am sweaty and I smell. I am so disgusting right now. I don’t think it’s a good idea”

You interrupt him all embarrassed.

“Sweetheart, you are not disgusting. There is no universe in which I find you disgusting. Plus, I don’t want to risk you passing out or slipping in the shower while you are still very sick”

He pulls you up from the bed. The sun paints his locks golden when he places his hands on your waist. Spencer smiles at you widely and nuzzles into your neck. You squeak as you try to recoil.

“You are disgusting” you joked

“Maybe I am. So, what? Shower or breakfast?”

“I will let you shower with me if you make pancakes instead”

You give him your puppy eyes and Spencer laughs

“Deal”

He kisses the tip of your nose and leads you to the bathroom by your waist.

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