#until he got tired of my shit and got into my car and left | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

st7rnioioss · 28 days ago

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࿐ ˚ ⋆ ֹ CHRIS DOESN'T KNOW

— based off the song "scotty doesn't know" by lustra

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... don't like, don't read! chratt fic!!, threesum (no incest shit), dom!matt, softdom!chris, cheating (don't do this in real life), unprotected sex (wrap it), slightly public sex (? in a car), minor angst (mentions of cheating + arguing), protected sex, oral (f + m receiving), praise kink, dumbification kink, slight dacryphilia.

𝒢𝜚 wc: 5.3k

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: wow wow woooww.. first chratt fic i've ever written! i can't tell if i like or absolutely despise this, but here you are. i love u, freaks!!🤍

chris doesn’t know we do it in my van every sunday she tells him she’s in church but she doesn’t go still, she’s on her knees and chris doesn’t know

“o-oh, matt-“ you moaned, head thrown back against the window of matt’s car, one of your hands gripping onto his shoulders as he basically pounded his cock into you, the other one holding onto the hand grip on the door.

“fuuuckk… c-can’t believe chris gets to see this every day, huh? so pretty..” he ducked his head down to leave a trail of kisses down your neck and collarbone, his pace not halting one bit as his fingertips dug into your hips.

this had become sort of a routine.. every sunday you’d tell chris you were going to church when really you were doing something way more sinful. something that definitely didn’t belong in a church—far from it, even.

you had arranged a specific spot where matt would drive by every sunday, and he’d either have you on your knees in his car or, like right now, sprawled out in the backseat.

“matt! d-don’t stop, please!” you wailed, his thumb connecting to your bud making your back arch and eyes squeeze shut.

“oh, i don’t plan on it.. w-we have ‘til ten thirty-“ he groaned, throwing his head back when he felt your sticky walls clamp around him. “th-think you can keep going?”

oh, chris doesn’t know so don’t tell chris

you knew all this was very wrong.. cheating on your boyfriend, first of all. but with his brother? there was really no excuse.

restless nights were one way to describe the pit in your stomach. staring at the ceiling, asking yourself what drove you to do such a fucked up thing.

chris was perfect… he treated you like there was no other girl in the world, showering you with gifts, and receiving endless kisses from him, and the praise and sweet words he gave you whenever you had sex were more than enough of what you needed.

it left you wondering. couldn’t matt give you the same? they were so similar, yet different. whenever you were having sex with chris, you couldn’t deny you missed matt’s cruel effort to make you cry, rather than chris’s effort to make you smile. yet chris’s compliments is what kept you so flustered and shy around him.

it was complicated. you used to have this “friends with benefits” situation with matt before you got with chris.. and disturbingly enough, it lasted. but you still loved chris, very much.. you just also happened to have sex with matt?

“hey, um.. i don’t mean to be nosy, but like.. you’ve been kinda off lately. are you okay?” chris whispered from behind you, his arms wrapped securely around you.

you sighed, but not in annoyance, messily turning around under the sheets. you met his eyes that had a somewhat worryingly look to them.

“chris, i’m okay. i promise, i’ve just.. i’ve just been tired,” you whispered back, leaving a kiss on his forehead. “don’t worry about me.” sure, you were lying straight through your teeth, but you couldn’t tell him yet. he wasn’t ready to know.

he smiled back at you, nodding slowly as an answer, not wanting to take this thing further. he returned the kiss but to your lips.

oh, chris doesn’t know so don’t tell chris

you were sat in your bed, music playing softly in the background while you scrolled through whatever social media app was interesting at the moment until you were interrupted.

a sigh escaped your lips. you hated keeping this from chris.

even though you saw stars every time you were with matt, it felt so wrong—that pit in your stomach only grew time after time… but yet you craved more from him.

she says she’s out shopping but she’s under me and i’m not stopping

your phone was going off from your nightstand, chris sending messages about letting him see what you had gotten yourself—but that was the last thing you wanted to focus on right now.

chris had called you just earlier, asking if he could come over to hang out with you. but you were.. busy with some other stuff. stuff, as in, matt was over.

“what do i say? i can’t just tell him i’m having sex with his brother,” you groaned, staring down at the confused message from chris.

matt shrugged, taking a sip of his canned soda. “i dunno.. just say you’re out shopping or somethin’, he won’t bat an eye,”

“y-you’re so fucking wet.. listen to that,” matt groaned from on top of you, listening to the wet squelching his dick elicited from your pussy. “y’like it raw that much?”

ecstasy was all you could describe it as. as much as you liked all the positions matt could manhandle you into, this was easily your favorite—along with the raw feeling of his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

you had always kept a promise that no matter what, you’d never let matt fuck you raw. it was intimate to another level, even the thought of him finishing inside of you making your stomach churn weirdly. but this..?

“m-mm..” you babbled, eyes stuck to the back of your skull as he fucked his hips into the back of your thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulders.

he chuckled, reaching a thumb out to wipe the spit off the corner of your mouth. “so dumb.. you like being fucked stupid on my cock, don’t you?”

you weren’t even processing his words, nodding dumbly at the clouded words before you squeezed around him for the second time that evening. a loud moan of his name escaped your puffy lips, your release creating a ring around his cock.

oh, chris doesn’t know so don’t tell chris

a few months had passed since you got together with chris while keeping up this thing with matt, and honestly, you were surprised you first of all hadn’t told him yet, and second of all that he still hadn’t noticed. you were being quite risky with this after all.

“do you want anything?” chris whispers from next to you, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face making you chuckle.

“no, i’m okay.” you whispered back.

you, chris, nick, and matt had gotten together to watch a movie, though matt’s eyes were not on the screen in front of him.

the tension was in the air—and it was thick. at least between you and matt. it always left you nervous when both chris and mag were in the same room as you. thinking about what went on behind closed doors.

a sense of jealousy was bottled up inside of matt. he’d never gotten to be intimate with you like that. the secret whispers, cuddling, kissing, all that jazz was only something you’d ever do with chris and not him.

still, he pushed that feeling away, reminding himself to appreciate he even got to be close to you.

and though you’d never like to admit, the thought of both chris and matt being with you, touching you had crossed your mind.. more often than you’d like it to.

it was a simple solution, right? both matt and chris having to share you, rather than you being torn inside from lying to chris and cheating on chris with matt.

chris doesn’t know don’t tell chris

“no, i’m serious. something is up, y-you’re not acting like yourself!” chris raised his voice, reaching out to take your hands in his.

the poor boy was so afraid to lose you, his heart pounding in his chest. he’d do anything for you, anything to keep you as his.

“chris, i said i’m okay! nothing is wrong, i’m just stressed lately, stop being like that!” you yelled back, but you didn’t let go of his hands.

you wanted to cry, you really did. your love for chris was so overwhelming, yet you felt so terrible when thinking of letting him know about you and matt. how would he react? would he leave you for good? did you want.. the both of them?

all those bottled-up emotions only left you to push chris away from you.

“no, i’m not- i’m not accepting that excuse anymore. you’ve been telling me that for weeks now, you have to tell me the truth,” he clung to you, pulling you closer to him while a pleading look made it to his face.

you only stared up at him for a while, momentarily considering telling him about this whole situation.

“but.. but what if i am telling the truth?”

chris nearly couldn’t believe what he was hearing, letting out a scoff while letting go of you, shoving your hands off.

“fine. if you wanna be like that, then go ahead. but i can’t help you.”

the whole situation fucked up chris and matt too. every passing second, matt got more and more possessive over you, leading him to bicker with chris.

chris didn’t understand why he was suddenly being pushed away from the both of you, leaving him on edge at all times as well.

the powder and the fuse—chris and matt. whenever they walked into the same room, you could only bet on how long it’d take before the two were arguing. whether it was pointless stuff that pissed the two guys off, or there was a deeper meaning behind the arguments.

all this caused nick to get upset as well. he couldn’t stand his brothers fighting all the time, leaving him pissy too.

whether it was breaking up the arguments between the two brothers or joining in, there was always a building tension in their relationship.

was there any escape from this? all you knew was that your lies and secrets only tore all of you further apart from each other.

i can’t believe he’s so trusting while i’m right behind you thrusting she’s got him on the phone and she’s trying not to moan it’s a three-way call and he knows nothing

the next time you spoke with chris after your little disagreement was over the phone. you had matt behind you, thrusting his cock into your soaked walls while you tried your best to focus on what chris was saying.

“wha.. yeah. yes, that’s- that’s perfect..” you bit back a whimper, your hand tightening its grip on your phone, your eyes pinched shut while matt drove his dick in and out of you.

it was so nice of chris—after the argument you had just a few days prior, he decided he could at least make it up to you by taking you out for a nice dinner, talking stuff through instead of staying mad at each other, even treat you with some make-up sex. hell, he’d even gotten you a pretty dress to wear.

“are you okay? you sound a little off,” chris’s voice could be hear through the speakers, the confused tone to his voice making you wish you could just hang up already.

with a weak and somewhat faux laugh, you answered him. “no, no i’m good.. s-seven thirty is fine,” you mumbled, a whimper falling from your lips, momentarily making you panic. “sorry, my shoe won’t- won’t come on,”

chris shrugged off your explanation. “uh, okay. i’ll see you at seven-thirty then, baby. goodb-“

“bye! i’ll see you,” you interrupted, hanging up immediately.

finally, you let the moans fall from your parted lips, muffled from the pillow you buried your face into, clutching for the sheets. the phone fell from your grasp, matt’s hand grabbing a good handful of your hair, driving your face further down into the soft pillow.

“he doesn’t have a clue in the fucking world.. his pretty girl getting her brains fucked out, huh? on his brother's cock?” he chuckled dryly, lifting your head up.

he gradually picked up his pace, allowing weak and whiny moans to flow freely from your swollen lips, skin slapping against skin.

“i don’t think he’d be too pleased to see this.. drooling over my fucking dick. is it really that good?” he taunted, referring to the patch of spit soaked into the fabric of your pillow.

chris doesn’t know so don’t tell chris ‘cause chris doesn’t know

you should’ve seen it coming, really. all the sneaking around would eventually come to an end, whether you broke it off with matt, or chris somehow found out…

which he did.

“hey, do you want anything? i could grab some food for us,” chris suggested, gently nudging your side to catch your attention.

chris had invited you to sleep over, as if you didn’t basically live with them by now, deciding to starts a movie-marathon. chris’s idea.

you looked up at him from your position on the bed, your limbs entangled. “yeah, sure. i’ll stay here tho, i’m too tired to move,”

chris laughed lightly at your response, but he eventually got out of your complicated position, leaving a kiss to your forehead.

“i’ll be back in no time,” he smiled, before waving goodbye, not forgetting his keys and wallet.

you blew a kiss his way, and not long after you could hear the car running.

tiredly, you stood up, deciding to why not go talk to matt while chris was gone, since nick was at the movies with a couple friends.

softly, you knocked on his door, hearing a faint ‘come on in’ from behind the door, carefully pushing it open.

“oh. hi there,” matt smiled at you, sitting by his desk.

“hello,” you returned the smile, waving at him from his doorframe, taking a quick glance at his room. though you weren’t exactly here to do anything specific, your stomach started swirling, making you nervous.

the second matt stood up and made his way over to you with a twinkle in his eye, you regretted going upstairs to say hi in the first place.

looking at you, he reached out to tug a couple strands of hair behind your ear, leaving you speechless and flustered, gazing straight into his blue eyes.

“did you want anything?” he asked, cupping the side of your face while tilting his head to the side in a questioning manner, though he definitely knew.

you weren’t here to have sex, it wasn’t the time and situation for that.. but now it seemed much more than tempting with nick and chris out of the house. you were supposed to just chat, and keep you entertained until chris came back.

you met his eyes, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, and that was all matt needed as an answer, quickly getting his hands on you.

matt was sprawled out under you, his head and back resting on the mattress beneath him, while your nails clawed for his chest.

“ff-fuck.. we have t-to hurry..” you whimpered, your legs already aching from being spread out on either side of his hips.

matt was trying his best not to buck his hips up to meet yours, the restraint wearing thinner and thinner while you squeezed and grinded on top of him.

“you gotta pick your pace up then, baby..” he mumbled weakly, giving the side of your thigh a gentle pat, as if that would help you go faster.

you shook your head, feeling matt’s hands rub down your sides, one of them eventually reaching for your breast, brushing his thumb over your bud.

“i-i can’t, matt..” you whined, the ache in your inner thighs too evident to keep moving, only continuing your weak and slow rocking, your pussy drooling around his stretch.

“cone on.. y-you just gotta-“ matt went to say, but immediately cut himself off when he heard a creak from the doorframe.

“oh.”

chris stood there by the door, staring at the two of you. the second you heard a voice that definitely wasn’t matt’s and was a little too familiar, your eyes flickered to meet chris’s.

and just like that, your heart immediately dropped to your stomach, blood running cold.

“i-i’m sorry..” you whispered, your voice quiet and barely coherent, staring back up at chris, before looking away from him.

though chris was more than shocked to see you literally sit on his brother's dick, he didn’t feel sad or betrayed like any other person would. sure, confusion and shock were running through his whole body.. but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling.

quickly, you reached for a blanket, wrapping it around yourself before getting off matt, leaving him to scramble around with his own blanket.

there was silence. not a single word, except the music playing from matt’s computer, nearly drowned out from the thick tension.

chris felt torn. he wanted to be mad, no, he had to. you cheated, didn’t you? but yet he couldn’t get himself to yell at you, instead feeling a sense of arousal both the sight of you right there, and the thought of.. sharing you.

he kicked the door shut behind him, stepping forward to look down at you sitting on matt’s bed.

“are you mad at me?” you whispered with a hurt expression plastered all across your face, patiently waiting for any chance of explanation.

“no.. i don’t- i don't know why. i’m not,” he mumbled back, taking off his cap to run his hands through his messy hair, before looking at matt.

relief washed through your veins, letting out a sigh of reassurance, yet a perplexed expression made its way to your face.

“can i ask you something..?” chris questioned, his eyes flickering between the both of you.

swiftly, you shot a glance matt’s way, before you both nodded hesitantly, making chris wonder how exactly to word this without being too straightforward.

“could we.. i mean, it’s fine if you think it’s weird, but- i’ve been thinking about us, me and matt, both.. going down on you?”

chris’s words lingered in the air, your earlobes turning pink, as well as your cheeks, staring at him. matt seemed just as shocked, yet neither of the two of you seemed opposed to the idea.

you had no clue that chris would think of such a thing. whenever you had sex, it wasn’t like he initiated more. but from chris’s point of view, he would just get to see more angles of how you’d react to another person's touch, his touch.

matt looked at you, a shrug pulling at his shoulders with an expression that said he definitely didn’t mind.

“i-i don’t.. i don’t mind,” a red hue tinted your cheeks, almost too shy to say the words, to even thinking about what would happen.

and immediately, it was like a switch had been flipped inside chris and matt.

“a-are you guys sure about this?” the words came mumbled from your lips, feeling more exposed than ever, though both brothers had seen you completely vulnerable and naked numerous times.

you weren’t unsure about your own situation, more about theirs. since.. well, they’re brothers?

“shh, don’t worry. it’s okay, we’re okay. just relax f’me, will you?” chris’s breath fans against your inner thighs, making your squirm.

but matt holds you in place, his legs on either side of yours, arms wrapped around your middle from behind you. he rested his chin your shoulder, just to get a clearer look of what was going on, to see how you’d react.

“stop squirmin’..” he husked, feeling your lean further back into his chest, your head thrown back into his shoulder, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’.

chris wastes no time, pressing deliberate kisses to your inner thighs as you whined in desperation, your eyes fluttering shut.

matt’s fingers make their way up your chest, carefully cupping your breasts in each hand, rolling your sensitive buds between his fingers.

“so, so pretty.. and so wet for me?” chris’s breath was hot against your folds, making another whimper tug at your lips.

“for us..” matt broke in, making chris roll his eyes in response.

not another second passes before he attaches his tongue to your folds, causing you to gasp, instinctively allowing your fingers to reach for chris’s hair to tug on.

you can hear matt chuckle faintly behind you, but it was washed out from the buzzing in your head. chris deliberately lapping kitty-licks to your folds, before pressing his tongue to your clit, hooking your thighs up over his shoulders.

at this rate you didn’t care about his fingers leaving marks to your thighs, the only thought going through your head was the absolute pleasure you were receiving from the two.

“oh gosh, chris.. please keep going,” your lips parted, puffy and glistening while your eyes pinched shut, your senses filled with the faint smell of matt’s cologne that still lingered on his skin.

chris continues to lazily lick stripes up your folds before he lets one of your legs rest on the bed to allow his thumb to attach to your clit. the sudden change made your back arch, but matt held you down once more.

moans and whimpers are being ripped from your mouth, only adding to the fuel inside of chris, working his pink tongue in and out of your leaking hole.

“y’taste.. so fuckin’ good, princess..” chris mumbled from between your legs, the soft vibration of his words going straight up your spine.

chris’s hair was already disheveled and messed up from when you played with it earlier, but when you reached and tugged gently on the strands it only messed it up even further. your reaction adds to chris’s desire, knowing he was doing well.

he let his tongue run down your pussy again, before starting to swirl and prod the muscle at your entrance, his only goal in mind being giving you as much pleasure as he could.

shameless moans continued spilling from your lips, leaning further into matt’s body behind you, your legs closing around chris’s head.

“fuck! i’m gonna come, please-“ you whined, accidentally bucking your hips up, but chris didn’t seem to mind.

his thumb circled your bud even tighter, the slight stubble on his face scratching across your inner thighs, surely leaving a faint burn later.

“shh, y’need to quiet down a tad,” matt’s words were whispered from behind you, his lips close to graze your ear.

one of matt’s hands sneaks from your breast to your neck, gently but firmly gripping you to hold your shuddering body back as you lean into him, trying to get you to stay in place as chris worked you through your orgasm, fucking you with his tongue.

you just about lose it when matt’s fingers add a soft pressure to your neck, your skin heating up and breathing getting heavier—all this leads to your mind fogging up completely.

shockwaves gripped your body, dissolving into pleasure when you came, letting out strangled moans of chris’s name.

“ohhh, just like that.. doin’ so good,” matt chuckled, his fingers slipping from your throat, returning to cup your soft skin

chris’s chin and lips were basically covered in a mix of your release and his own spit, before using the back of his hand to wipe it off.

you chuckled breathlessly, letting your hands fall from chris’s hair, your chest heaving with every breath.

“come on.. let us take care of you,” matt said from behind, clearly growing impatient and eager, gently nudging your back to signal for you to move.

chris quickly stole a kiss, leaning forward to connect your lips, before leaving more down the side of your face, causing you to let out a giggle. he laughed along, before getting settled on the bed.

a second later you’re on all fours, feeling chris crawl up behind you, one of his large hands smoothing down the spine of your back.

your look over at matt, a confused look settling on your face. “are you not joining?”

he shrugs, shaking his head for a moment. “i just wanna watch for a minute.. don’t worry.”

a smug smile made its way onto his lips. really, he just wanted to watch you, how you shuddered and reacted while positioned like that. it was like his own, personal third-person view of how you’d look while being fucked by him.

you just nodded it off, before your legs were spread further apart by his thighs, the tip of his cock prodding at your weeping pussy, smearing the precum over your folds. the icky feeling made you whine, digging your nails into the sheets in both desperation and aching need.

“so, so pretty.. i could look at you all day,” chris whispered from behind you, hand hand reaching the ends of your hair to push out of the way, smoothing his palm up your back.

you smiled to yourself at his sweet words, until you felt him press the head of his cock through your opening. a gasp slipped from your parted lips, the stretch leaving a twinge between your legs.

“christ.. you take me so well..” he groaned from behind you, watching his cock disappear inside of you, a whimper ripping from the back of your throat. “do you wish it was matt touching you right now? this isn’t enough, is it?”

your ears perked up at his question, all blood running from your face. matt was already staring at the two of you, carefully wrapping his hand around his aching dick. chris never talked to you like this, making your stomach swirl—it was only something matt ever did.

truthfully, you shook your head. it wasn’t like matt didn’t make you feel good, but this was really all you needed. “n-no..”

a yelp elicited from your lips when he pressed his cock further inside of your drooling walls, echoing with the whimper falling past matt’s.

you turn your head to look at him, met with the sight of him fisting his erection, eyes locked on yours.

“really? i think you’re lying.. too busy running around fucking my brother. come on, matt,” chris waved him over, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of your hips, pulling you back to take more of his cock.

you felt nervous, more vulnerable than ever under both their eyes and chris’s harsh words, though they weren’t linked with malice, more something to get you both going. matt shuffled closer in front of you, and you twisted your neck to look up at him.

“come on.. you know what to do,” chris murmured, his length throbbing inside of you—it was getting hard to hold back from pumping his cock inside of you, watching your puffy walls suck him in.

nervously, you reached out to wrap your hand around matt, watching the sticky substance already smear from his tip, purposely rub your thumb over his slit, earning a groan from him.

carefully, your lips parted to wrap around his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. matt let out a quiet moan, his hand entangling in your hair, guiding you to take more of him. it wasn’t until he hit the back of your throat he stopped, loosening his grip on you but not letting go.

“fuck, you look so hot with my dick down your throat,” his head lolled back, eyes shut while you desperately tried to adjust to the restraint of breathing, your own eyes pinched shut.

suddenly, chris thrusted his hips forward, his hand on your back pressing down to arch your back as much as possible, the sudden shove forward making your gag around matt, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes.

“o-oh my god..” chris groaned, starting to pick up a slow rhythm, keeping it gentle since he didn’t actually want to hurt you.

“shiiitt.. fucking drooling around my cock, sweetheart..”

spit pooled around matt’s girth, hollowing your cheeks in an attempt to bob your head on his hardness, feeling every vein and ridge under your tongue, causing matt to groan.

it didn’t take long for chris’s pace to pick up, as well as your own, moaning and sputtering around his dick. his hand gripped the back of your head, accidentally bucking his hips into your mouth.

“you feel so good, angel.. so, so good, you’re doing so well..” chris cooed from behind you, gently massaging your hips in a way of comforting you, though his pace was a stark contrast to his dreamy words.

chocked whines were let out around matt, trying your best to signal your climax was close, your head going empty as the bliss took over you. the feeling, the pure ecstasy that ran through your veins seemed irreplaceable in the moment. nothing could add up to this.

the vibrations from your pretty noises and attempted words sent a shock of electricity up matt’s spine, guttural groans flowing past his lips.

you were throbbing around chris, your walls fluttering with every erratic pound, heat pooling in your lower tummy. and chris could feel it all, feel how your soaked hole pulsed and squeezed around his cock.

“you’re close, aren’t you? it’s okay.. it’s okay,

you can come,” chris shushed you, his chest heaving while letting out pathetic whimpers between pants.

you were writhing beneath the two, your clit swollen and a sheen of sweat prickling across your forehead and back. you lost composure, seeing stars from how overwhelming the whole situation was, your body going numb and hot.

“come on, she’s doing so good.. why don’t you tell her?” chris spoke between gritted teeth, looking up at matt.

he looked almost puzzled, not used to being so sweet with his words, but that was exactly was chris was going for. you deserved the world, not derogatory praised though he knew you didn’t mind either.

“yeah.. he’s right, you take it so well, hm? y’like being stuffed full like this?” matt complied, feeling your lips loosen around his length, your bobbing turning sloppy and halting.

your gut tightened, knees buckling under you when you came around chris’s dick, waves crashing upon you as your slick smeared over his length, tears escaping your waterline to roll down your cheek.

the repeated shudder around matt’s length was becoming too much, before his grip tightened on your hair, spilling his cum down your throat when he was pushed over the edge, spit seeping from the corner of your mouth.

“fuck! take it all, i know you can,” matt’s words stung when he continued to rut his hips forward, before tears were staining your cheeks, milking him completely dry.

with a pop, he pulled back, allowing you to heave for air, messy moans being ripped from your throat from chris’s unrelenting thrusts.

“ch-chris.. i can’t take it, please. it’s too much,” you whimpered between a quiet sob, sobs of ecstasy, clamping down around him while the tip of his dick kissed your cervix with every roll of his hips.

“y-you really think you could handle the both of us? at the same time?” matt cooed with faux sympathy, leaning down to cup the side of your face, his thumb wiping the mix of his release and saliva off your lips, “of course, you couldn’t,”

he tsked, shaking his head while giving your cheek a pat. chris then broke in, his eyes stuck to where your two bodies connected, your slick release covering his length, “shh.. just a little bit more, m’almost there doll, you’re doing so good..”

another whine slipped from your glistening, swollen lips, dipping forward to bury your face into a pillow, allowing chris to hit way deeper inside your gummy walls.

you were basically clawing at the soft fabric, hot tears falling from your eyes like prior, the soft cries making his pace turn sloppy, indicating he was close.

with a final thrust, his movements stilled, before spurting the hot seed inside of you, the icky substance filling you up.

he groaned, basically collapsing on top of you, his fingertips trailing down your sides while mumbling mindless praise, “so, so pretty.. you did so well, don't cry. my girl,”

you wobbly made it onto your elbows, smiling dreamily to yourself at his words, completely fucked out and weak while his lips made their way down your back, “i love you too,”.

matt’s hand met the top of your head, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, leaving a gentle kiss to the side of your face.

“anyway.. pizza’s in the kitchen. go crazy,”

more of my work here!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii

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ssorenz · 8 months ago

Text

F*CK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY!!

pairings (separate) ୨ৎ : toji fushiguro x reader, gojo satoru x reader, choso kamo x reader, suguru geto x reader

contains ୨ৎ : adult content (mdni), piv penetration, jealous/angry s*x, face sitting, c*nnilingus, overstim, car sex, squ*rting, edging, oral s*x (giving and receiving), pet names

a/n ୨ৎ : i might make a part 2 w/ sukuna, higuruma, nanami and shoko (or others), but it depends on how well this does!! not proofread btw, i posted this while half asleep 👎

in honor of me hitting 300+!!

toji fushiguro—☆

“fuck did i tell you about hangin’ out with that— bastard?” toji emphasizes each of his words with a snap of his hips. deep, merciless strokes into that, slick, puffy cunt of yours.

it was tired, tired from all the abuse it had taken. toji managed to pull three— no, four orgasms out of you in the span of an hour.

impossible for some. but toji? never that. he knew you like the back of his hand.

which is exactly how he knew you’d be so gullible, so naive, towards your conniving coworker.

of course you didn’t notice when he’d take glances at your tits as they restrained in your uniform. of course, when he offered to take you out to restaurants, you thought of it as ‘strictly business’.

but of course, thats what toji was here for— to keep you in check.

“im, haah— m’sorry tojii!!” you choked out a pathetic sob, trying your best to find common ground with the man. this torture had gone on for.. god knows how long. your brain was too fuzzy to even attempt to recall what time it was.

“sorry, my ass. shoulda’ been sorry a long time ago, mama. s’too late for all that now..” he grunted in reply, still continuing the ungodly pace he was going at.

jackhammering himself into you at this point— his full, aching balls slapping against your wetness.

he had your back arched— face up, ass down, hands tied behind your back, bobbing up and down with each mean thrust. red marks ingrained into the fat of your hips from the way he hooked his nails into them, making sure you’d be unable to run from him.

and it wasn’t just your hips that were marked, oh no. the crook of your neck, just along your collarbone, the inner and outer regions of your plush thighs. toji made sure to mark you up real nice and good.

“if you were really sorry,” he continued. “you would’ve stopped fuckin’ talking to that asshole months ago. then he woulda never thought it was— shit, be so handsy wit’ ya’.”

as toji replayed the scene in his head, his strokes were even sharper, practically burying you into the mattress at this point. he remembered picking you up from work, in your blouse and short pencil skirt that rode up your ass.

your coworker stopped you before leaving though, exchanging a quick goodbye, and a ‘simple hug.’ atleast thats what you called it.

but having his hands around your waist, slowly inching towards the hem of your skirt was anything but simple.

“toji, please— m’ really sorry! didn’t know..” you almost incoherently babbled out. the way his cock repeatedly pummeled its way against your sweet spot, it had you dumb. stupid, even.

“ya’ never fuckin’ know, huh? poor thing..gotta protect you from these men out here, yeah? need me by your side at all times?” he cooed sarcastically as you frantically nodded in reply.

“need you, daddy. n-need you to protect me—”

toji chuckled darkly, almost feeling bad from how pathetic you looked, how pathetic you sounded. the way your eyes rolled back as he hit your g-spot over and over, or the helpless cries that left your mouth as he did so.

“good. n’ thats how it needs to stay, mama.”

satoru gojo—☆

satoru couldn’t wait. he physically could not wait until he got home. no no, he needed you now.

his hands were engulfed in your hair, grabbing a plentiful handful as he bobbed your head up and down, soft groans of pleasure emitting from his parted lips.

“you thought that shit you pulled today was funny, yeah? messy fuckin’ girl.”

gojo had a meeting earlier with the higher-ups, discussing training for his students. you were practically on your knees, begging to tag along. after some consideration, he obliged (of course)—after all, who’s he to deny his favorite girl?

unfortunately for you, the meeting was more boring than you thought. listening to their voices drone on for what felt like eternities made your head ache.

unfortunately for satoru though, you let boredom get to the best of you.

he looked so damn attractive next to you, so professional— like his whole demeanor changed. your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere. your hands couldn’t help but wander either, as they discreetly drifted to the middle of his lap.

gojo let out a soft groan as you began palming him through his slacks, but was quick to conceal it with a cough. he tried desperately not to react too visibly, but it was becoming increasingly tormenting with each passing moment.

finally, after what felt like an eternity for both of you (though likely only seconds), satoru couldn't contain himself any longer— interrupting the meeting abruptly by announcing that you both needed to leave early due "to personal matters." with that excuse out of the way, he dragged you out before anyone could question the sudden departure.

to be quite frank, it was hilarious. well, in your eyes atleast. for satoru…?

ah, not so much.

mascara ran down your cheeks, tears welling up—blurring your vision as you felt the tip of his cock hit your uvula over and over. you could feel it throbbing angrily in your mouth as your tongue slobbed around the base.

gojo continued thrusting his hips back and forth into your mouth, holding onto your hair tightly. looking up, you could see his eyes rolling to the back of his head, milky strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

even in his state, he still looked so dreamy.

satoru held you down, forcing you onto his base, your nose brushing against his well-kept happy trail. you choked, strings of drool pooling effortlessly down his cock. he let out a deep, throaty moan that seemed to reverberate inside the car. your mouth was so warm, so welcoming.

gojos thrusts intensified as he continued to recklessly pound himself into your slack jaw, the salty taste of his precum dribbling onto your tongue. he was close to cumming— you both knew it.

his movements became more shaky and jagged, sloppily going in and out of your mouth before stopping. before you knew it, sweet yet salty ropes of his essence painted the back of your throat— making you instinctively swallow. satoru quickly pulled out, resting his bare cock on your face as he felt another load arising.

and it did, painting your pretty face with his sticky, pearlescent seed.

gojo looked at the sight beneath him, cursing underneath his breath as he admired how good you looked. even covered in his cum, even with your hair all disheveled, you still looked amazing.

“a-acting out to get what you want— tsk, what a brat.” he teased, still recovering from his orgasm. typical gojo, even in his weakest moments, he never lost his charm nor attitude.

“well it worked, didn’t it?” you retorted, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

“i- uh. . . no comment.”

kamo choso—☆

choso was never the type to take his anger out on his loved ones, especially you.

the half curse, half human wasn’t unfamiliar with the feelings of anger and jealousy, although he never experienced the writhing feeling first hand.

but of course, there’s always a first time for everything.

“mine, mine, mine—“ choso whined, a series of breathless moans following soon after as he shamelessly pummeled into you. he had you in a nasty mating press as you lay flat on the bed, legs damn near reaching your ears.

“you’re my girlfriend, no one else’s. . . especially not— hngh, his.”

your male friend, who obviously had the hots for you. choso was baffled you couldn’t tell, as his flirtatious remarks and actions weren’t even that subtle.

the way he’d compliment your outfits, blatantly staring at your chest— especially when you wore lower cut tops. or when he’d ogle at your curves, licking his lips as his eyes rode up your thighs.

or like today, when he suggested you leave your boyfriend for him. now that, was choso’s last straw.

"you really shouuuld, ya know?" he slurred into your ear, clearly intoxicated from the drinks you both were sipping on. choso was just a few feet away in the living area, engrossed in some show he was watching. but his eyes flicked over to you occasionally, as he kept an eye on the situation.

"i mean, why are you even with him?" your friend continued, his voice a loud whisper, clearly thinking he was discreet. "you deserve someone who really appreciates you. someone like... me."

choso was enraged—he undeniably heard every word. someone who really appreciates you? the nerve.

standing up, he approached you two, shooting daggers into your friends wicked expression as he wrapped his muscular arm around your waist.

but that cockiness soon faltered after noticing your boyfriends deadly glare. your male friend started pathetically apologizing, claiming it was a ‘joke.’

but even choso knows that drunk words are sober thoughts.

“f-fuuck, ‘cho…he, aah— didnt mean it!”

“dont c-care…” he grunted, low and rough. his jagged, uncontrolled, breaths tickled against your skin as he nuzzled his way into the crook of your neck. “i appreciate you more than he, nngh, ever w-will.”

you let out a soft moan, his words shooting shivers down your spine. choso was never like this— so possessive. but who’s to say you were complaining?

he continued ravishing into you, so carnally— the feeling of being so completely claimed by him was both exhilarating and terrifying.

but damn, it turned you on like nothing else.

his pants echoed in your ears as he picked up speed, his body moving against yours in perfect rhythm, the sound of his thighs slamming against your own. any thoughts you had, fled from your mind except for the sensation of his cock bottoming out inside you and the way he took control of both your body and mind.

as the intensity built, you could feel yourself getting closer to you peak. you didn't want it to end, but you also knew that when it did, the pure feeling alone would be delectable.

“choso— m’gonna, f-fuck! mm’gonna cumm~!” you blubbered out, your eyes starting to pool. with those words, he picked up his pace even more— delving deeper inside of you. just as you were about to let go and give in, adrenaline coursing through your veins, choso objected.

"n-not yet,” he denied. “m’ not done with you yet."

geto suguru—☆

“s’too much, sug’!” you sobbed loudly as geto’s tongue danced around your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

you squirmed and writhed on suguru's face, your hips grinding against his mouth as he expertly teased your clit with his tongue. you couldn't believe how good it felt, how skilled he was at his craft.

"suguru..." you panted, gripping the headboard tightly as yet another wave of pleasure hit you like a semi-truck. "m’sorry, please. i-i didn’t mean it…”

suguru chuckled softly against your sensitive flesh, his expression twisting into a devilish grin. "oh?" he teased, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "didn’t mean what? i can’t quite recall what it was."

he knew exactly what you were implying. yet, he was teasing— because the both of you knew what you said earlier contradicted this current state you were in now.

you bit your lip, feeling a warm blush creep up on your cheeks at the memory of what had come out of your mouth during the heat of the moment. "..‘said that you n-never make me cum," you mumbled sheepishly.

geto paused for a moment before resuming his ministrations with renewed vigor, causing yet another surge of pleasure to ripple through your body. "is that so? hm… i’ve never made you cum?" he asked mockingly, his voice full of amusement. “well she’s tellin’ me otherwise baby.”

he was referring to your cunt. the way “she” squelched as suguru slid his slender fingers in with ease, coated from your own slick mixed with his saliva.

the way he curled those digits inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made your back arch and moans escape from between parted lips even as they were pressed against his face.

as his fingers continued to stroke your inner walls, searching for that perfect spot that would send you over the edge, his other hand reached up to play with one of your nipples.

the combination of the two was enough to make your head spin and your body shudder with anticipation. "s-suguru..." you whimpered out between gasps for air. "please... don't stop..."

his only response was a low rumble from deep within his chest—vibrating against your cunt as he swirled his tongue around your clit once again before finally taking it into his mouth completely, plunging two fingers deep inside of you.

a sharp hiss escaped from between your clenched teeth, followed by a subdued cry as suguru circled inside of you. he smirked, watching eagerly as your facial expression twisted lewdly with each nasty ministration. he was such a tease.

it felt as though your very being was on the verge of exploding. every nerve ending screamed for release, begging to be set free from this torment. the tension coiled tightly within you, threatening to snap at any moment and send waves of ecstasy crashing over your body.

you could feel it coming closer now— that inevitable peak where all sensations would converge into one, resulting in a mind-blowing orgasm. your heart raced, pounding against your chest like a drum signaling an approaching storm. sweat trickled down between your breasts and pooled at the small of your back as you arched further into suguru's touch.

but as quick as the pleasure built to a crescendo, it ended just as fast.

geto pulled his mouth away suddenly, grinning up at you from his spot between your legs, eyes sparkling with mischief. "since you said i never make you cum," he teased, his fingers curling inside of you in a way that threatened to push you over the edge yet again.

"i’m sure someone else will be able to help alleviate that little problem of yours." and with those words, he rose from his place underneath your figure. your legs being shaky, unstable, gave out beneath you, making you plop onto the mattress.

as geto sauntered towards the door with a smug smile on his face, he turned back to give one last taunt. “dont worry," he said with an air of false concern. "it shouldn’t be too hard finding someone that makes you cum as hard as i do."

DSIIRESBLOG™ 2024 — comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

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canthelpit0 · 10 months ago

Text

“We’ll figure it out”

Pairing: Inexperienced!Matt x Inexperienced!Reader

Wordcount: 5.9k +

Summary: what happens when you hook up with your long time best friend? Except both of you are virgins.

Warnings: Smut, nasty, language, use of y/n, pet names (pretty boy, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc), reader has a cat named sun, study session, oral m!receiving, brief crying, oral f!receiving, praise kink, fingering, cowgirl, no protection (wrap it up!), she’s not on BC, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language. So sorry for any mistakes. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy xx)

You have known the triplets since middle school, and you’ve been close to all of them.

Well, especially with Nick.

Everything was fine, you weren’t too popular, but you also weren’t overlooked. you were middle class, not poor but also not rich. You were pretty, but never got too much attention because of it.

Little do you know, but you’re gorgeous. If you wanted to you could easily be one of the popular girls in school. But you didn’t care for it. High school was temporary, and you knew that.

And that’s exactly what Matt admires about you.

Matt is pretty introverted, and especially around freshmen year, you and his brothers would quite literally have to force him to go to school.

Now he was more calm though. Sometimes his anxiety would mess with him, but he overcame it with you and his brother's help.

For the fact that you’ve only known them since middle school, you went over to their house quite a lot. But sometimes they’d come over to yours as well.

Matt was a virgin. Most people would think that. He’s awkward in social situations and pretty shy and introverted before you get to know him.

Though, he’s had a short-term girlfriend before. Wich, at least was something.

You never dated anyone. You never cared to. You’d much rather focus on your friends and school, than some boy.

You were a virgin. It wasn’t like you never watches porn, or were innocent really. You just never got to the point of losing it to someone. Everything you’ve done was by yourself.

Wich would be fine. But you were in senior year now, and the year was almost over. Most people around you had already lost it, and you felt left out.

You were sitting at lunch, listening to Chris drone on and on about some girl he hooked up with. You purse your lips, your apatite disappearing more and more.

Suddenly Chris looks over to you. “Y/n how was your first time?”

You tense up, Taking in a harsh breath.

“Chris! You don’t just ask shit like that” Nick huffs hitting Chris on the arm.

Matt, who was sitting next to you, puts his hand on your thigh in comfort.

You squint your eyes at Chris, judging him. Or at least you try to make it look judgy.

You lean further into Matt’s side. His physical presence was keeping you grounded.

And when matt noticed just that, he takes his hand off of your thigh and instead wrapped it around your waist to pull you even closer.

“That’s none of your business.” You huff staring back at Chris.

But internally you were embarrassed because you were still a virgin.

★ ★ ★

You had planned a sleepover and study night with matt a few days ago. Essentially, he’d come to your house on Friday, and you would study. until you got tired of it and watched a movie or something.

So after school matt drove his brothers home and then drove to your house.

You got out of the car, watching as Matt reached into the backseat to grab his overnight bag.

You couldn’t help but think back to lunch break when Chris had made that comment. Chris was a player, and you knew that.

But everybody around you had lost their v card, and you just felt so left behind.

Matt huffs snapping his fingers in front of your face. You blink. He takes the keys out of your hand, grabbing your forearm to pull you to the door.

“You back with me y/n/n?” Matt ask. He looks over his shoulder as he blindly fiddles with your house keys.

“Yeah, sorry. zoned out.” You answer simply.

Matt chuckles at the flat response. He looks back at the door and finally twists it open. You two both walk in, both of you taking your shoes on.

“Hello, we’re back” Matt says loudly into the room.

You put on your house shoes and so does Matt.

You look over your shoulder at Matt with an amused expression. “Matt they already left” you huff.

“What? I thought they were gonna leave at 4?” He asks, pulling out his phone from his jean's back pocket.

It’s 4.26 pm

“Oh.” He says flatly staring at his screen.

Your parents had driven out for the weekend to your grandparents house. It was a few hours away. You hadn’t wanted to go, because for one you had already made plans for the sleepover with Matt.

And also because you had the test on Monday and you wanted to study the weekend away.

You were probably not going to anyway, but in theory..

“Yeah. oh.” You roll your eyes. Your siblings went with your parents so the house was empty. It’d be the perfect opportunity for a house party.

But you weren’t one to party, and your parents trusted you.

You and Matt walk to your kitchen. Well, it’s just matt trailing behind you.

“You want a drink?” You ask simply while you take out a Pepsi can for yourself and then put it on the counter nearest.

Matt comes up behind you. He looks over your shoulder scanning the contents of the fridge.

“Pepsi please,” he says under his breath.

You take out another can and then proceed to put it next to your can on the counter.

You slam the fridge door shut. You feel Matt turn you around before he’s hugging you. His arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face in your neck.

Matt had always been a big softie. No matter how much he loves to deny it he loves hugs and being all sappy and shit.

His own love language was acts of service though. He’d do anything for someone he likes.

And so if he finds a song that reminds him of you, he’ll tell you. If you are hungry, he’s immediately googling places to eat. If you look slightly sad or upset, even though you just have a resting bitch face, he’s immediately doing something stupid to make you laugh.

You know each other in and out.

He knows you love physical touch. So he’d make it a point to hug you at least once a day.

The day was long and draining. It was a normal boring school day.

His hug is warm, his arms feel firm around you.

And despite not having known him since kindergarten or something, it feels like you’ve known him forever.

You can’t think of any future scenario without him in your life.

“You always smell so good” he mumbles, dramatically nuzzling his face into the side of your neck.

You chuckle at the compliment.

“Come on pretty boy, we gotta study.” You hum slightly pulling away. Matt dramatically groans in response but reluctantly pulls away.

You pick up the two Pepsi cans and start to walk back to the stairs.

Matt grabs both of your school bags and carries them upstairs with him.

Once you’re in your room you pull out your desk chair and sit down.

Matt puts both your backpacks against the wall. He walks towards the bed to sit down when he spots your cat.

“Sunny” he exclaims excitedly. As much as Matt would love to say he’s a dog person. He loves your cat.

She’s and orange Persian cat. Her hair is fluffy and long. She looks like a ball of hair all curled up in your bedsheets like that.

You look over to matt and your bed. You watch as your cat looks up at him and he coos at her. He slowly sits down and starts to pet your cat.

★ ★ ★

By now two hours of studying had passed. You were both now sitting on the floor on your carpet, the study material all sprawled out across from you.

You and Matt were sitting next to each other, your cat still sleeping on your bed.

“Matt I’m bored” you whine loudly. You throw your head back dramatically and groan.

Matt looks over at you watching you as you complain. He looks mildly agitated himself.

Before he can protest and tell you that you two need to continue studying you start to put the pages and books on top of each other.

Once no books and loose papers are sprawled out anymore you sit back again.

“Y/n” he rolls his eyes and you can feel the lecture incoming.

“Matt please, I’m literally about to die of boredom.”

“You’re so dramatic” he scoffs watching you.

And for a moment You two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. You just stare. Your face relaxes out of the pout. Matt looks over your features like he’s admiring you for the first time. Like you’re a piece of art.

You can feel yourself start to grow hot. The tension in the room skyrockets.

“You’re so pretty you know that,” Matt says under his breath. Matt leans over on his arm leaning closer to you.

Your mind is blank, and you can’t come up with an answer. You just take in the compliment.

“So fucking gorgeous” he sighs and before either of you knew it his lips are on yours.

You freeze for a second your eyes wide. But like it’s an instinct you immediately kiss back.

Matt’s hand finds its way to your jaw holding you in place, while he tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You were sitting Chris-cross while Matt was sitting on his legs, sitting just a bit higher than you.

After a while of just innocently kissing, he pulls away. You two stay close though. His eyes instantly widen as if he knew he fucked up.

“Fuck- I’m sorry” he breaths out, taking his hand from your face.

You sit up. Uncrossing your legs. you shift to sit on them, fully facing a blushing Matt. And you’re sure you have a matching red hue on your cheeks as well.

“No.”

the statement catches Matt off guard. He immediately looks back over at you, confused.

As soon as he looks back over at you, you reconnect your lips with his. He sighs into the kiss. His open mouth grants you the opening you need as you swiftly slip your tongue into his mouth.

You’re a virgin. That doesn’t mean you’re fully inexperienced tho.

You two make out heavily for a while. Making out like you’re trying to feel every part of each other.

Somehow you ended up in a position with you straddling Matt, as he has his legs sprawled out.

You pull away, both of you breathing hard.

“Y/n..” Matt starts his voice shaky.

He averts his eyes, the blush on his cheeks and even deeper red than before.

“I’m a virgin” he admits under his breath.

You thought for sure that Matt wasn’t. You were. But you also never dated anyone. Matt used to have a girlfriend though. But he’d never done it?

“Like fully?” You ask out of curiosity.

But it wasn’t like you wanted to use him. You liked him for being, himself. His presence made you flustered, feeling butterflies in your stomach, and all giddy.

“Yeah” he breaths out. You watch him close his eyes as if willing his embarrassment to leave. “I’ve never, done anything..”

You pause thinking of the best way to reply. “Neither have I.” You say softly, feeling mildly flustered as well. But both of you were inexperienced. You were in the same boat.

He pauses for a second at the reply. It was obvious that he thought you at least had one body. He didn’t think you were a virgin too.

“You… you wanna try?” He questions. Now he looks a lot less embarrassed than he did just a few seconds ago.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “If you want to?”

He pulls you back in for another kiss by the back of your neck. The kiss is shorter and more reassuring.

Matt pulls out of the kiss his hands going to your waist “We can figure it out?” He asks hopefully.

You nod in agreement. You could feel Matt’s bulge through his pants with the way you were sitting. And you could feel yourself aching.

What’s the harm in trying. He’s your best friend after all. Besides you’d finally lose it, and to someone you trust.

You peck his lips briefly before you get up off of his lap.

Matt gets up off of the ground too. You pick up your cat and wake her in the process. She meows at you in annoyance before you chuckle and put her on the ground.

Matt opens the door as Sunny finally but reluctantly leaves the room.

You pull off your shirt tossing it away. Matt turns around to see you sitting on your bed with your top discarded, your bra in full view. His eyes widen.

He licks his lips, his eyes shamelessly tracing your body.

Matt comes to hover over you while you sit there. “You’re such a tease” he chuckles. He leans down to capture your lips in a brief kiss again.

It was like he couldn’t get enough of your lips.

“Get on the ground,” Matt says, his tone more demanding and rough with lust.

You obey. You slide off your bed, getting on your knees on the ground.

Matt tugs his shirt off throwing it off to the side. He unbuckles his belt and undoes the button and zipper on his jeans before finally sliding them off and tossing them away.

You curiously watch. The only men you’d seen in this position were in pornos. This though, was your best friend since middle school.

Sometimes you forgot he was an actual man with a dick and all.

And right now, seeing the imprint of his cock through his boxers felt surreal.

He starts to tug on his boxers. Your eyes go up to meet his. “Ever gotten your dick sucked?” You ask sarcastically to cover up how nervous you are.

“No.” He breaths out. While continuing to look down at you he finally pulls down his boxers. He tosses them away too.

Your eyes trail from his eyes to his lips, over his jawline and his chest, down to his dick. The dick that was rock hard and right in front of your face.

Your eyes widen, as you sit back your hands staying on your knees as you just stare.

His tip was the same red he had on his cheeks, leaking pre cum. He had a vain running up his shaft. You always thought that male body part was rather disgusting looking.

But the way Matt’s looks right now…

You don’t know if it’s just the burning lust running through your body. But you actually really wanted to taste that.

Your hand goes to cup his aching cock. He lets out a sharp sigh at the feeling. You touch it gently. You don’t move your hand and stay careful of your manicured nails.

“I don’t know what I’m doing” you breathe out. While you do, you gently start to move your hand up and down your length slowly jerking him off.

“I don’t either,” he tilts his head forwards closing his eyes for a secound. “Keep going we’ll figure it out,” Matt assures you.

His hand goes to the back of your head. His hand starts to smooth down your hair.

“C’mon baby, don’t be shy” he coos staring down at you. Matt looks down at you like he’s done this a billion times before when he claims he never had.

But you guess one of you at least had to pretend that you were understanding what you’re doing right now.

You lean forward leaving a tender kiss on the tip. You do what you think someone would do in this situation.

The way he shudders at the simple touch though, shows that he is in fact, not experienced.

In hindsight, you don’t know why you thought that he was experienced. You just assumed.

“You think this will fuck up our friendship?” You ask while still slowly jerking him off.

Matt’s breaths are slightly shaky, but he chuckles at the question.

“No. I won’t let it.” He huffs.

“So..” you pause your movements. You glance down at his dick and the way your manicured hand wraps around it. And how huge it looks.

You then look back up at him through your lashes. “How am I supposed to do this?” You ask uncertainly.

“I don’t know.” He pauses to lick his lips. The way you, his best friend, look up at him through your lashes like that, was making him even more aroused.

“Just do what you feel like. But be careful of your teeth.” He says slowly. he wasn’t even sure himself.

You raise your eyebrow at his vague response. Neither of you knew how to do it, so you might as well imitate the porn that you’ve watched.

You drag you tongue up his shaft, keeping your eyes locked on his. When you’re at the tip you lick up all the pre cum leaking. You keep eye contact with matt, and it was driving him crazy.

He lets out shaky breaths. He was clearly enjoying this.

You kiss his tip again, before wrapping your lips around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around it trying to see how he’ll react.

You watch him to see if he likes it or not.

“Yeah, like that,” he says under his breath staring down at you.

With his praise and encouragement, you start to take him further down your throat. Slowly and carefully.

Matt whispers praises into the quiet room. All of them go right to your core and boost your ego.

You eventually feel comfortable enough to bob your head. You were jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You were bobbing your head at a rhythmic pace and hollowing out your cheeks occasionally.

“I’m close-“ Matt whines. He actually whines.

And that sound. The power you had to make him sound like that was making you feel even more confident.

You don’t slow down your pace. You just keep going.

Until matt puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He tugs on it hard, to keep you still. He starts at a gentle but fast pace.

You feel your eyes fog up. The constant hit to the back of your throat makes you gag slightly.

His pace starts to become more and more sloppy as the seconds pass though.

You feel his dick hit the back of your throat before you suddenly feel your mouth be filled.

You feel his sticky load shoot down your throat. He pants, pulling at your hair to pull you off.

You swallowed what you could. But still, you feel a bit of it roll down your chin.

“Sh, sorry no don’t cry.” He immediately panics cupping your face in his hands. He looks down at you, worried. As if he thinks he went too far.

He wipes away the tears. The tears that you hadn’t even noticed had fallen.

Sighing, you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. “I’m okay Matty” you breathe out softly. His facial expression visibly relaxes at the statement.

“I’m sorry if that was too hard”

“It wasn’t, you’re good.” You stand up.

You immediately go to undo your own jeans. You slip out of them, throwing them off to the side.

His eyes roam over your body. The air is thick, both of your bodies pulsing with pure lust and awe.

You watch as his half-hard dick gets hard again.

You chuckle at the reaction. You teasingly take your bra off. And once you unclasp it, it’s Thrown across the room to the rest of your clothes.

His eyes trail your body again. He can’t help himself at the way your boobs look. He’s always admired you from afar. He never thought he’d ever be able to see you like this.

Sure he had imagined you two together like this before, but he never thought he’d actually get to see it. Besides, the real thing, the euphoria, it all felt better than he could’ve ever thought.

“So pretty, baby” he sighs. His hand goes to your chest. you could tell he’d never done this before just by the way he touched you like you were fragile.

But neither of you knowing what you were doing only made this more thrilling.

His hands go to your waist as he pushes you back onto your bed. He hovers over you for a moment, before crashing his lips back onto yours.

You kiss back, but you mostly let him take the lead. After he breaks the kiss, You feel him start to trail his kisses down your jawline and neck, while needing your breast in his hand.

He sits up again putting his other hand on your chest and needing it too, watching the way his hands look wrapped around your tits.

He sighs getting off of you and between your legs.

“Tell me when it feels good, sweetheart, alright?” He hums. He pulls at your panties, taking them off and half-heartedly throwing them away.

His eyes stay locked on your pussy. He admires it, like it’s the first time he’s seen it, which it is.

He puts your legs over his shoulders to give himself a better angle. He uses his middle finger to brush through your folds experimentally, watching you in awe.

You sigh at the contact on your folds. You’ve never been touched there. But Matt’s touch felt so incredibly comforting and good.

Your core was aching, pulsing around nothing. And Matt watched.

After a moment he kissed just above your clit. Kissing a trail down to your clit, before harshly starting to suck on it.

Your moan tears through the room. You were startled by how bold and confident he acted.

He groans into your core at your taste on his tongue. The groan sends pleasure coursing through you and chills down your spine.

“Fuck- matt” you whine. Your thighs clench around his head trying to get him closer. Your hand finds its way to his hair tugging on it slightly.

Your other hand berries in the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto. “God- have you done this before?” You ask rhetorically not expecting an answer.

He licks a stripe up your folds and starts to move his tongue against your sensitive nub. You whine and he chuckles.

“No.” He mumbles against you in answer. You throw your head back in pleasure your eyes briefly closing.

You feel Matt pull at you, tilting his head slightly for a deeper angle.

He was eating you out like you were his last meal. But beyond that also like this would be the only time he got to taste your sweet juices.

“Matt, fuck yeah- just like that.” You keep praising him. You notice how it boosts his confidence and in turn, makes this even more pleasurable for you.

You feel a finger brush at your cunt. Before you feel it slide in. Your hand immediately tugs harder at his hair. Your back arches slightly as you throw your head back in pleasure.

He thrusts his middle finger in and out of your tight cunt. He was turning his hand slightly, twisting it and turning it to get a feel for your body and how you react. And to also make you loosen up a bit.

You whine in discomfort. Matt detaches his lips from your clit still hovering close though.

“You okay sweetheart?” He says lowly under his breath.

Your moaning was loud and echoing through the room.

You sit up in your forearms staring down at him and the way he was fingering you like that. Watching the way his finger disappeared in your tight cunt.

“I’m good”

The words come up a bit slurred. The pleasure of him finger fucking you like that, was making your head feel all fuzzy.

“Never fingered yourself, baby?” He asks teasingly. You watch him and the way he steadies himself on his other arm.

He readjusts his finger, curling it up roughly hitting your sweet spot right on.

The touch sends shivers of pleasure down your spine making you shut your eyes and throw your head back.

“Matt, matt-“ you chant his name like a prayer. It’s the only thing you can think of. Him. And only him. That’s all that’s relevant right now.

He slips his second finger into your soaked core with ease. You barely even notice the second finger added. Until he starts to scissor them apart to stretch your insides even further.

He keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you harshly. Curling them at just the right spots to make your vision blur.

You lay back down fully, as he is now sitting up more.

“Yeah pretty girl, that feel good?” He asks. Your back arches and your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

He leans up further, your legs fall from his shoulders as he hovers over your lower body. He puts his whole hand on your lower stomach applying gentle pressure on it to keep you down on the bed.

“I’m close-“ you breathe out between loud moans.

“good girl, come for me.” You shudder at the pet name. Your thighs shake slightly at the burning intensity of his gaze and the way his fingers curl at just the right spots.

You squirm under his gaze. And suddenly you feel the intense knot in your stomach snap. You feel him continue to finger fuck you, while your entire body feels burning hot.

You feel so warm and overwhelmed by the euphoria flowing through your veins. It feels better than any high you have ever experienced. Not that you’ve experienced a lot.

Once you ride out your high you breathe hard. Your eyes stay closed as you lay back on your bed.

Matt gently pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact.

He lays down on your duvet next to you, turns to his side, and watches you.

You also turn to face him after a moment. You two just look at each other.

Matt looks at you with such intense adoration and love, it’s crazy.

“You actually wanna loose your virginity now?” He asks gently. Ignoring the fact that he was rock-hard.

You two so far had only given each other pleasure, but you hadn’t lost your virginity yet.

“Yes” you breathe out. You feel ready now more than you ever have before. Especially if you get to lose it to matt.

He licks his lips looking over your face.

“I don’t have a condom.” He says simply looking back at you. He knew you weren’t on the pill. He’d be fine doing it some other day.

“That’s fine.” You say though , catching him off guard. How desperate do you have to be to let him raw dog it?

“You’re not on the pill tho?” He questions.

“I’m not” you confirm simply. He raises an eyebrow waiting for further explanation. “You can pull out or something.” You shrug.

“That sounds tacky.” He huffs a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds.

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll deal with that tomorrow morning. Just please fuck me?”

You think he’s going to refuse Until he suddenly pulls you on top of him. You sit on his torso for a moment before you get the memo.

“You want me to ride you?” You ask slowly.

“If you’re not comfortable we can switch?” He offers. But why would you decline to ride him?

You shake your head no, before starting to slide down on his torso feeling his length glide between your soaked folds.

“Can’t be that hard?” You question rather skeptically.

In your opinion matt didn’t seem small. Though you had nothing to compare it to. All the girls in porn seemed to struggle with something that looked as big as Matt.

So either this would be really hard or easy for you. But either way, you wanted to try.

“You’re okay, we’ll go slow” he chuckles at your nervousness but is secretly just as scared. “And I’ll help you.” He assures.

You lift yourself hovering over his crotch area. You take in a harsh breath grabbing his dick and hovering over it.

Matt’s hand goes to it too holding it up. While your hand goes to your cunt as you gently and slowly sink down on it.

You both moan at the contact. Getting in the tip was hard. But once that was in you felt like you could easily slide down the rest of it, not that it wouldn’t hurt.

Matt’s free hand goes to your waist, guiding you like he said he would.

“Doing so good, princess.” You whine at the praise, but ultimately slowly skink down further..

Matt keeps your movements steady as you keep doing your thing. His second hand also goes to your waist using it to steady your movements further.

“Fuck so big.” You moan. Your thighs tense as you pull it out slightly. You could feel the stretch burn.

“It’s okay sweetheart. you only got a couple inches left.” He assures you as he starts guiding you back lower on him. Your cunt was aching around him harshly.

“Fuck-“ you sigh. You can’t help yourself when you take one of his hands from your waist and interlock your hands. You need the moral support.

“Such a good girl,” Matt says as you start to gently bounce on what you have fit so far.

He was occasionally groaning. Your moans filled the room, the air in the room staying hot.

He squeezes your hand. You close your eyes at the mixture of pleasure and pain. When you close your eyes he lets his eyes wander down to where your bodies meet.

He’d never done this and this felt so incredibly good. The sight alone could make him come right then and there.

Matt wasn’t dumb, he knew he had quite the dick. It wasn’t small by any means. And he knew that. It was amusing Watching you struggle with what you had, knowing there were at least still 3 more inches to go.

“You okay?” He asks again just to make sure you are okay.

The pain had subsided and you felt the pleasure. Sure you could take more but you were nervous to. This wasn’t as easy as it looked or as You thought it’d be.

“I’m okay” you sigh. You keep yourself gently and slowly bouncing on the upper half of the length of his cock.

Matt knows you really well. And matt just knows you can take more than that, Despite being a virgin himself. It was just a gut feeling. “Baby, I’m gonna need you to bear with me alright?”

Before you can respond, his hand on your waist tightens, and he squeezes your hand that’s intertwined with his. He rams you down on his dick harshly, making you take it as much as you physically could.

Your legs tense up at the harsh treatment. Your eyes close as a moan is ripped out your lungs. You clench so unbelievably tight around him. And just the sight of himself buried so deep inside of you could have him come at the spot.

He groans at the feeling of it as well. “Good-“ he breathes out. “Such a good girl.”

He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for moral support. His hand trails from your waist over your side soothingly.

You sigh at the feeling of him being completely in you. It’s a foreign feeling. It just feels so full.

“I feel so fucking stuffed” you groan dramatically. You let your head hang forward your mouth open in a silent moan.

“Oh, you’re so gonna be stuffed” he huffs. And somehow, even though pregnancy and birth scares the hell out of you, this type of dirty talk was extremely hot to you.

You huff in response starting to grind into him. You grind on his dick, his Hand on your hips helping you as you slowly try to get used to the size.

You sigh pulling all of your hair back out of your face again. You readjust your legs, taking your hand out of Matt’s. You shift, leaning on your arms to lean back slightly.

You start to carefully ride him your moans and whines still audible. Your head is thrown back in pleasure.

Matt watches the way your body moves in awe. Groaning every so often when you clench around him.

His hand goes to rest over your lower stomach, his thumb goes to rub on your clit gently. “Matt.” You gasp at the sudden added pleasure.

You can’t help yourself when you lean back forward. You just really want to see Matt’s face while you ride him.

“So good for me baby, keep going” he encourages. And with his words, you readjust again now pulling out more and ramming yourself back down.

You feel the knot in your stomach get tighter. You feel really good riding him like this, listening to his mumbles of praise and encouragement.

You continue to bounce on him, now chasing your high. And the harsher you slam yourself down the louder you and matt get. The room is filled with your noises as well as skin clapping loudly, and your lewd wetness.

After a few seconds you feel the knot snap. You lean over him, your arms on either side of his head catching you. Your high feels incredible, the heat washing over you like a wave.

Matt’s hand on your waist gets bruisingly harsh. He holds you in place while he thrusts up into you. You whine at the way he fucks you through your high. He was chasing his own now.

“Where do you want it.” His breath is harsh. He choked out the words in his lust-filled voice. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding to know.

“Inside.” You grit out. You bite your lip harshly, feeling your high subside and overstimulation slowly take over.

Matt grunts an agreement and you feel his thrusts get more sloppy and harsh. Until he gives you one last thrust, finally stopping his movements. He pulls you down to sit on him while spurts of his release shoot up into you.

You were pulsing around him, practically milking him for all he’s got. “Such a good girl” matt breathes out. One of his hands goes to trail over your stomach slightly.

He feels the slight bulge in your stomach from his sheer size.

The idea that this is how you make children is crazy to you. And the fact that you just did that with your best friend.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly staring up at you lovingly.

“Warm” you respond truthfully. His sticky seed inside of you makes your core feel all warm, along with the fact that you haven’t gotten off of it yet.

“Do you regret it?” He asks gently. After all, you two were best friends, and he had just lost his virginity to you and also taken yours.

Despite being terrified of the fact that you let him raw dog this, you didn’t regret it. In fact, you felt content, you love matt dearly.

“No” you don’t hesitate. You never realized how much you love Matt. He was just always there with you, he was always your best friend. You couldn’t imagine a future without him.

“You’re paying for the plan b pill tho” you chuckle.

He huffs a laugh. you carefully lift yourself off of him feeling your combined juices leak. You can see Matt watching, his eyes focused on your pussy. Watching the way you’re filled to the brim.

You kneel next to him, as you watch him sit up. “Come on sweetheart let’s get you cleaned up.”

Masterlist

A/N: I know this isn’t the most original idea, but I haven’t read any ffs where both of them are virgins. But if there is one that’s similar to mine, just know it was not intentional. In that case, If someone gives me the @ I can credit them.

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturnioloos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangepepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo

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inbabylontheywept · 1 month ago

Text

Memories of Grandpa Hank

I'm eating a bag of mormon gorp that tastes like gasoline while watching the rain run down the mountain. The taste doesn't even bother me anymore - all homemade gorp tastes like this. It's just a natural consequence of everyone keeping their prepper shit in their garages.

My dad's out in the clearing, wandering around with his GPS. He's got some pieces of wire out on top of it to try and make the effective antennae bigger, but it just makes it look like he's dowsing. Another mormon tradition. I ask him if he's close to find water yet, and he looks up at me, little rivers flowing off him, and says yeah - he can feel it.

I'm sure he can. I settle under my tree and watch the droplets roll down the needles. Awaiting the final judgement of Judge GPS.

A few minutes later, it provides:

Turns out my dad forgot to record the location of the car this morning. The GPS remembers where we parked yesterday, but by luck my dad knows how to get from there to our car. Downside is that it's a nine mile walk just to get to yesterday's position, then another five miles to backtrack. That's fourteen miles total.

I'm only thirteen.

Think you can make it? my dad asks. And it's a kindness that he's worried, but it's not like there's an alternative. What else would I do, sit down in the murk and cross my fingers he finds me again? Ask him to carry me 14 miles?

I'll be pretty jelly legged, I say. But yeah. I'll make it.

Attaboy, he says. He fishes a bag of poptarts out and offers me one as - I think - a peace offering. A, sorry you're gonna have to walk 14 miles in the rain because I goofed kind of gift.

I take a bite and, despite being individually wrapped, it still manages to taste like diesel fumes. We start hiking our incredibly long distance in terrible weather for foolish reasons, and I joke to my dad that the only way to make this day any more mormon would be by pushing handcarts.

He laughs. Neither of us laugh again until 11 pm, when we stumble like drunkards into camp. My grandpa has stayed up late to make sure we weren’t lost, but he only stays up long enough to see us arrive. We try to eat a dinner of sweet potato stew, but after falling asleep in the middle twice, we agree to just go to bed.

I sleep in well past nine and wake up to nobody in camp but my grandpa. My dad left with my sister to keep hunting around 5 am. I know that everyone assumes that their dad is invincible when they're 13, but I'm 28 now and part of me still thinks he's gonna live forever. That God made exactly one perpetual motion machine, and it raised me in the desert.

---

Around noon my grandpa suggests hunting again. If it was my dad, I'd probably tune him out, but I like my grandpa's style of hunting. My dad hikes and hikes and hikes until the elk get tired and just let him shoot them. My grandpa finds the sleepiest, sunniest, coziest field and takes a nap there, figuring if the elk have any decent taste they'll come there at some point.

Man's got a knack for knowing what elk like - he's right more often than not. I think he might've been an elk in a previous life.

I go with him, and much as I hate to admit it, the hike is good for me. I start off walking like a pirate on two peg legs, so stiff I might as well not have knees, but by the end of the mile and a half walk I'm almost normal. We make it to the edge of the clearing, and my grandpa finds a patch of grass taller and softer than the beds inside the trailer, and he curls up to sleep there. I look across the grass and I watch the comings and goings of critters through the field. Sometimes I use the scope to get a magnified view, but I never do so with my hand on the trigger. The thought of accidentally looking a person through that glass is something that sends a chill up my spine.

Some deer wander through the glen, but it'd take a fool to mistake one of them for an elk. A few hours later, my grandpa wakes up and asks if I want to wander around a little. It's a lovely day. Rain comes in bursts in Arizona, and the day after is almost always clear as can be. And for a short while, all the desert browns turn green and lush. Hard mosses turn squishy and cacti swell up like fresh baked muffins and for a while you can get why people settled in these god forsaken wastes.

So I go with him, and we walk on, me with my gun, him just taking in the forest. He looks so peaceful that I get a little jealous, but it's not until my grandpa stops and looks at me that I even notice it myself. Takes a mirror, sometimes, to know yourself.

Being near my grandpa is always a strange thing for me. He's quiet, and he doesn't talk much, and I don't ever get the feeling that he's particularly emotionally intelligent - but it's like he's interacting with a reality more raw and real than mine. Like I'm watching symbols on a screen and he's counting atoms. And sometimes, just being near him gives me access to that raw matter. Just something about how he is breaks the illusions of the world.

He looks at the gun like a foreign object, like he doesn't recognize it, then he looks at me. He speaks and he doesn't mince words.

What would you do if an elk came across the path and you shot it right now? he asks.

Well, I'd start cleaning it, I say, and he waves the words away like cobwebs in his face.

But would you celebrate? he presses.

And I look at him, and I don't actually see any judgement staring back. He knows the answer, and he's at peace with it. He’s asking so I can see it too. He’s being a mirror so I can see my own face.

I think I might actually cry, I admit. And he nods along in agreement before reaching forward to take the gun off my shoulder.

Lets just walk today, he says. No chance of killing anything. No worrying about that.

Right, I say.

He pops the chamber open and tosses me back my bullet. I catch it, and the relief I feel is palpable.

Can I change my mind? I ask, and he shrugs.

Whenever you want. Hunt or don’t. It’s not the hunting that I’m worried about. It’s seeing you ignore your conscience.

And for a moment, I'm there in the real world with him, and my gloves are off, and reality is a metal cube in my hand: Sharp and cold and heavy.

Or maybe that’s just the bullet.

---

We make it back to camp a bit later than my dad. We get there and he’s waiting for us. If he's tired, he doesn't show it.

How'd it go? he asks. My grandpa looks at me, and I don't know how to respond. I don't know how to explain it, and I am scared.

Great, he replies. It's a shame Babs only has a doe tag. We saw a five-point out there. Close enough to hit with a football.

No, my dad says. If his grin was a half inch wider, both ends of his mouth would meet in the back of his head and everything above his tongue would slide off.

Tell him Babs, grandpa says. And, not for the first time, and especially not the last, I try my hand at spinning a yarn.

It's pretty good. But at 13, I still have a lot to learn.

#i've been reading some cormac mccarthy lately and i decided to try my hand at present tense #it was pretty rough but a fun experiment #kind of like writing with my left hand instead of my right #been thinking about my grandpa lately #miss him #wild world out there #babylon-lore

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traveler-at-heart · 5 months ago

Text

The Doctor's In

Summary: Billy Maximoff sustains an injury and Wanda comes to you, her neighbour who happens to be an ER doctor.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

For @esposadejoyhuerta - hope this week is better to us <3

Tired.

That’s all you are. You don’t even know how you manage to get home, dragging your feet through the door and dropping your bag next to the couch.

Sleep or eat?

You look between the kitchen and sofa, and the view of the cushions and the blanket you left there is far more attractive than the prospect of food.

Sleep it is.

Dropping face first on the couch, you sigh, excited at the idea of sleeping for the next few hours, until your next shift at the hospital.

You close your eyes, and don’t know how long you’ve been asleep until a desperate knock wakes you.

“Who is it?” you say, scared by the sudden noise.

“It’s Wanda”

You relax instanty, sighing with relief. Though you don’t speak regularly to your neighbours, Wanda is by far the nicest.

“Is everything ok?” as soon as you open the door, you can see her disheveled state and the fear in her eyes. “Wanda, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Billy had a little accident in the stairs and he’s in pain, I didn’t know what to do and remembered you’re a doctor”

“Come on” you let her lead the way, opening the door. As soon as you enter you can hear Billy’s cries and Tommy by his side. The boy is sitting at the bottom of the stairs, holding his right arm.

“Hey, Billy. Wanna tell me what happened?”

“It hurts” is all he manages to say.

“May I examine you? You can tell me if it hurts a lot or only a little, yes?”

The boy nods, trying to calm down as you inspect his arm. At a certain movement, he flinches, and you sigh, turning to Wanda.

“He needs an X-Ray”

“Ok, I’ll take him now”

“Why don’t I drive you?” you say, thinking it might be dangerous for Wanda to get behind the wheel when she’s in so much distress. The woman nods, and you help Billy up, making sure he doesn’t move his arm.

Wanda sits with both boys in the back of your car, her hands going through Billy’s hair to calm him down.

“Sorry about the mess” you say, looking at all the junk you had in your car.

“It’s alright” she says, looking a bit more relaxed. “I’m sorry for making you drive us, you must be exhausted”

“I don’t mind at all”

You look through the rearview mirror, Wanda smiling softly and you return the gesture, feeling a bit flustered.

“I thought I told you to go home” Chief Fury says as soon as you walk through the ER.

“Uh… my neighbour’s kid got into an accident so”

“Alright, then” his threatening glare softens as soon as his eyes land on the woman walking behind you and her two kids, Billy in a wheelchair.

“He needs an X-Ray, I didn’t see signs of a concussion or any other injuries”

“Admit him, get vitals and go to imaging. Ma’am, you can wait here while Dr. Y/L/N checks on your son”

“Can’t I go with him?”

“I’m afraid not”

“It’s alright, I won’t leave him alone” you squeeze her hand, pushing Billy to the X-ray room.

Luckily it’s empty when you walk in, the technician setting everything up quickly.

“I thought your shift ended” Darcy says and you shrug your shoulders.

“Shit happens”

Billy laughs and your eyes widen, forgetting you were around a child.

“Uh, maybe don’t tell your mom I said that, kid?”

“Hey, don’t do it for free. Get something in return for your silence” Darcy intervenes and you want to smack her. But Billy keeps on laughing as you argue with your friend, and it’s nice to see him smiling after being in so much pain.

Darcy whistles as soon as you look at the image of Billy’s fracture.

“Clean split”

“Yeah, he got lucky”

You figure it’s better to ask for an Ortho resident to help with the cast. Darcy keeps Billy company while you go talk to Wanda.

“Hey” you sit next to her, offering a cup of coffee you brought from the machine.

“How is he?” Wanda asks, looking at Tommy, who is sound asleep in the chair next to hers. You motion for her to stand up to talk without waking him up.

“Billy broke his arm but won’t need surgery. Just a cast for a few weeks and then we can remove it”

“I’m such an idiot” she curses and you’re taken aback by her outburst. As a trauma surgeon, you had seen your fair share of ugly situations, so a cast was one of the best outcomes all things considered.

“I shouldn’t have let them play, but it was late and I figured they just needed to run a bit more before they got tired” she goes on, hand running through her hair. You can see the tears pooling in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, stop” you place your hands in her arms, waiting until she looks at you. “Blaming yourself is not helping at all. Listen, kids get hurt playing, it’s practically a rite of passage. And I know it sucks and it’s scary but Billy is fine and I’m always around for anything, ok?”

“Ok” she nods and without thinking, you pull her closer, hugging her. Wanda rests her head on your shoulder, her scent pleasant and calming. You rub circles down her back and she relaxes.

“Thank you” she says, her hands still on your waist. You can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks, even in her disheveled state and your eyes travel to her lips.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” a resident approaches you, clearly hesitant to interrupt.

“Yeah” it takes you a second too long to look away, making Wanda blush.

“Billy is all set up” she informs you. “If Miss Maximoff filled out all the forms he’s good to go”

“Yeah, I did” the woman nods next to you, picking up her things and waking Tommy up. The resident leads you to a room where Billy is waiting for his mother. Tommy runs up to him and admires his cast, looking at the material in his brother’s arm.

“Here” you say, adjusting an armsling for him to rest. Signing his discharge and picking up some pain meds, you lead the Maximoffs out of the hospital.

By the time you park in your driveway it’s 2 AM and you have to be at the hospital in less than 12 hours.

“Come on sweetheart” Wanda tries to wake Billy, but you stand next to her and offer to carry him all the way to his room.

You’ve known Wanda for almost two years now but had never gone inside her house. As you carry the boy upstairs, you notice all the family pictures and drawings that the twins made.

“Sleep tight, little man” you say, moving aside so Wanda can remove his shoes and tuck him in. “Let me know if you need anything, ok? I’ll be home until noon”

“Oh, actually, can you wait a second for me? I’m sorry, it won’t be long”

“Sure” you nod, going down to the living room.

You don’t know if it’s the exhaustion or Wanda has an incredibly comfortable couch, but as soon as you sit there, you relax and drift off.

By the time Wanda tucks in both boys and comes downstairs, you’re fast asleep. The woman smiles, your features soft as you catch up on much needed sleep. Wanda pulls out a blanket and drapes it over your body, hoping you’ll finally be able to get some rest.

—

It smells amazing.

The scent of fried bacon and butter makes you open your eyes, your stomach suddenly very aware that you forgot to have dinner last night.

Looking around, you realise this isn’t your house, but it still takes a minute to remember everything. Wanda, the twins, the hospital.

“Morning” the woman says when she sees you looking confused; the way you rub the sleep off your eyes makes her heart flutter.

“Wanda, hey. Sorry, I crashed in your living room. I’ll get out of your way now”

“I’m making breakfast. I bet you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday”

“Well…” you rub your neck, stretching. You fold the blanket and walk to her, your mouth watering at the smell of everything.

“Orange juice?” she offers.

“Yeah, thanks” you take the glass. “Can I help with anything?”

“You’ve done enough, Y/N. Come on, sit. Enjoy”

You smile sheepishly, grabbing pancakes, bacon and some jam. The first bite is so good, you let out a loud moan.

“Sorry” you blush, Wanda biting her lip curiously at the sound you just made. “These are like the best pancakes I’ve ever had”

“Thank you” she sits across from you, drinking coffee and resting her chin on her hand. “Do you have to be back to work soon?”

“Yeah, in a couple of hours. I’ve got surgery and gotta make the rounds on some patients from yesterday”

“You work too much” she admonishes in her mom voice and you laugh.

“I’ve heard that one before”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have any family here and all of my friends are at the hospital, so it’s better than being home alone doing nothing”

“Not all of your friends are at the hospital” she says with a shy smile and you nod, appreciating her words.

“What about you? Anything interesting going on?”

“Aside from Billy and Tommy being pure chaos? No, that’s enough for a lifetime” she laughs, and it’s honestly the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“They’re really sweet kids. It must be hard work but you’re doing amazing with both of them, Wanda”

“Thank you” she looks down at her cup of coffee and you nod, eating the rest of your food in silence.

Wanda is about to say something else when your pager goes off.

“Oh, great” you mutter. “My surgery’s gonna be earlier. Gotta hurry up”

“Chew your food!” Wanda scolds when you began to put everything in your mouth.

“Sorry” you say, trying to slow down. Wanda rolls her eyes. “Can I at least do the dishes?”

“Fine” she concedes, and shows you where everything is. “You better eat before your surgery. Or I’ll pack you lunch”

“I promise I’ll eat” you say, rolling your eyes. Once the dishes are done you pick up your stuff and walk out the door, Wanda close behind. “Let me know if you need anything? Billy might have some discomfort but the meds should be enough. But either way, call me”

“I don’t actually have your phone number” she says, making you frown.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Here” You take out a piece of paper from your pocket and scribble on it. “Anything at all, call me. Even if I’m in surgery, I’ll make sure one of the nurses answers for me”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Those pancakes were heavenly. Thank you”

It’s hard for you to say goodbye to Wanda, but you hear the twins calling and decide it’s time to go back home.

The woman gives you a nod and you reach out, squeezing her hand. You feel warm as you go back to your place.

To be honest, you’re hoping Wanda calls you, for more than just a consult.

Part 2

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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joelscurls · 8 months ago

Text

stranded

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.6k

summary: your shitty boyfriend dumps you on the side of the road after a fight. joel miller finds you.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, no outbreak, explicit smut, oral (f receiving) (joel miller is a munch and u cannot convince me otherwise), slight angst, reader has a shitty/abusive (ex) bf (only briefly mentioned), allusions to piv sex, i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: this is my entry for the summer lovin' writing challenge put together by the incredible @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery (ily all so much), based on the above moodboard with the location hiking (i went for hitchhiking) and the quote "i'm your only hope". i haven't written in what feels like years & am admittedly rusty, but alas! it was so much fun to get back into writing with a little challenge. dividers by @/saradika-graphics. this was minimally edited; all mistakes are my own.

His red pickup truck had been the first car you'd seen in hours. Rain pouring down, drenching your t-shirt and streaking mascara along the apples of your cheeks, it'd been like a beacon through the fog.

You’d asked to borrow his cell phone to call a friend. Don't have one, he’d drawled. Got a landline at my place, but the whole county’s without power.

And though you knew nothing about the man in the driver's seat -- not his name nor his history with the law -- you'd still gotten in when he'd pushed open the passenger-side door. After all, you had little other choice.

It was either that, or risk freezing to death on the side of the road where your boyfriend had deserted you. Ex boyfriend, now. That asshole had taken everything from you: your phone, your keys, your dignity -- and left you for dead. So really, how much worse could this admittedly handsome stranger be?

Just a bit, it turns out.

Okay, so he's giving you a lift. Back to his place to wait out the storm and call a friend on his landline once the power returns. And he's not hurling nonsensical accusations at you with hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. No declarations of, "My buddy swears he saw you dancing with another guy. Why would he lie about that?"

Still, his silence is beyond off-putting. His brows seem permanently contorted downward, his eyes narrowed on the road ahead as he drives, the highway closer and closer to flooding with every mile that passes. He hasn't asked if you're okay despite the fact that you're holding your ankle in your lap, its incessant throbbing a reminder of when your ex pushed you out of his car earlier. No, he hasn't even offered his name.

You wonder if you're driving to your death.

The first words he speak are muttered under his breath, a quick, "it's just down this road," as pavement turns to gravel. He slows the truck, tires crunching and mud splattering until the trees give way to a tiny wood cabin. The driveway is a long stretch of dirt that winds through an unkempt yard, all tall grass and overgrown shrubs.

It's dark, the sky an angry black as you hobble out of the truck. Your ankle stings and your heart pounds when the strange man rounds on you, and you flinch when he outstretches a hand.

"You hurt?"

His voice, though unamused, drips like thick, rich honey. Pools at your feet with the rainwater.

"Yeah," you respond meekly. Your fingers curl against your palm, nails digging into the skin there. "It's uh, my ankle." His eyes follow yours down to your feet. Widen at the sight of black and blue.

"Shit."

It's quiet for a long moment. You can tell he's trying to piece it all together: how you ended up alone on the side of the road, hurt. He still doesn't ask though. Not until a particularly loud rumble of thunder sounds overhead, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

He sighs, a half-hearted comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Someone dump you out there?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "Boyfriend. We got into a fight and he just...lost it."

The man nods. Takes a small step forward as you hop on one foot next to him.

It must take five whole minutes to get to the front door. Your ankle only feels worse by the time you step onto the porch, throbbing having turned into searing pain somewhere along the way. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he jostles the key in the doorknob, the metallic taste of your own blood a temporary distraction.

He motions for you to follow him in, which you do, albeit hesitantly. His house is as you'd expect it to be from your brief encounter: little furniture or decoration, dishes in the sink, a general air of…man…throughout the small, dark space.

“Sit down,” he says. “I'll get a first-aid-kit.”

“Wait,” you stop him, because for some reason it seems of utmost importance in this very moment, despite the flash flood outside and your inability to walk, to know–

“What's your name?”

“Joel.”

You situate yourself on the couch as you wait for him to return. Scan the room for any signs of imminent danger. There’s a bookshelf on the far wall, stacked top to bottom with hardcovers and carved wooden trinkets. You wonder if he – Joel – made them himself.

You wonder if the books keep him company out here; if the stories of Huck Finn and Moby Dick make him feel less alone.

You wonder why he’s so isolated in the first place.

You have little time to dwell on it though, as he re-enters the room promptly, dusty first-aid-kit in one hand and a lantern in the other. He places the latter down by his feet before pulling up a footstool. Opens up the kit and pulls out a roll of gauze.

“Might hurt a little,” he warns, beginning to unravel it.

You nod. Brace yourself.

By the look of his hands – large and gruff – you expect him to be a bit rough. But he’s gentle, surprisingly so, cradling the lower half of your leg and wrapping your ankle with laser focus. His fingers, though calloused, skate across your skin with a near-startling softness.

You watch his face as he works on you, quickly finding yourself transfixed by the way his brows contort and his eyes narrow, by the absentminded twitch of his mouth. He looks so much less intimidating like this, and you inadvertently begin to relax into his touch.

He seems to notice this, leaning in closer to your body, and while you know it's just to get a better angle, more precision, it still sends a rather confusing shockwave of electricity up your spine. In this proximity, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Can practically see every fiber of muscle in his biceps as they flex under his flannel shirt.

This close, you're met with the rather inconvenient realization that Joel is beautiful.

You try to tell yourself that it's purely situational, that if you hadn't just been dumped on the side of the road by your asshole boyfriend, you wouldn't be seeking the physical comfort of another man. Still, this does nothing to stop the steady acceleration of your heartbeat, nor the growing arousal between your thighs.

All of this, despite the pain in your ankle.

You almost don't realize he's done mending you, the shifting of his hand to your opposite calf sending you into a prompt spell of dizziness. Mind flooded with images of him spreading you apart, taking you right here on this worn, leather couch, you're silently reeling.

His eyes flit up to meet yours, a little darker than you recall them being. His fingers curl against your skin and your breath hitches.

Does he feel this too?

You shift experimentally. Let your legs fall apart just an inch. To your dismay, he pulls his hand back; clears his throat.

And just like that – the bubble bursts.

“All set,” he announces as he stands, before practically running out of the room.

A little humiliated, you retreat back into yourself. Stare out the window and pretend not to notice when he rejoins you in the living room and wordlessly drags his footstool to the opposite side of the room.

The remainder of the day passes agonizingly slow. Minutes feel like hours, the sky only growing darker, and it’s a wonder how Joel can even see the pages of the book he’s currently got his nose stuck into.

Not that he’d offered you one.

Instead, you’ve been stuck in place. A prisoner to this couch, the springs of which are digging into your back uncomfortably. Staring out the window like some harrowed female protagonist in a period piece.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice your presence, after a while. He reads, drinks warm beer, and quite literally twiddles his thumbs. Anything to avoid talking to you.

You’re not sure what you did wrong. Had you said something to offend him without realizing? Had your subtle pass at him been less subtle than you’d thought? Had you crossed a line? You’d really just considered it innocent flirting. Maybe Joel hadn’t.

Regardless, it makes you wonder why he even brought you here. Maybe he’d just wanted to feel like a hero – hadn’t thought about what came after. About you occupying his precious space.

After a while of sitting in the same place, your muscles begin to ache. Plus, your throat feels dry. You need to stand, need to get something to drink. Except, when you move to get up, Joel immediately stops you.

“Where you goin’?”

“Need a drink.”

“I’ll get you one,” he offers. “What do you want?”

What you really want is to go home. To forget this entire day even happened.

So you settle on–

“Vodka?”

He hums. “Don’t got that.”

“Tequila?”

“Got some scotch left. Might be one more beer. Was really hopin’ to have it though.”

You scoff.

“Okay. Water, then?”

“That I can do.”

He disappears into the kitchen and returns moments later with a glass. Hands it over without making eye contact.

“Thanks,” you mutter. He says nothing in response. Just collects his empty beer bottles from off the floor and retreats once again.

By the time he comes back, the sun is setting – at least, what can be seen of it through the dark clouds that still rage in the sky.

He seems tense, fixating himself by the window and watching the storm with such acuity you think he may be waiting for the second it ends to kick you out.

“Have you heard anything about when this is supposed to pass?” you ask.

“Have no electricity,” he grumbles. “So, no.”

You stretch out your back. Stand. This time, Joel doesn't stop you. “Just didn't know if you had a radio or something.”

“I don't.”

Rounding on him, you attempt to get him to look in your direction. Still, he stares straight ahead, like you're not even there. Frustration bubbles in you, quickly reaching a full boil.

"What is your problem?"

He finally looks at you. And then he laughs, though you get the sense that he's not amused in the slightest.

"My problem?”

You nod. Raise your eyebrows at him.

“I'm lettin' you wait out a storm in my house right now,” he says. “Doesn't seem like somethin' you should be asking me."

You scoff. "I just don't know what I did to piss you off."

He turns to face you completely now.

"Are you kidding? Haven't done nothing but inconvenience me since you got in my truck. Askin’ for a fuckin’ cocktail like this is some kind of resort. Starin’ at me all day like i'm a guest in my own home.”

Is he fucking serious?

“Why’d you even pick me up?"

"Wasn't gonna drive by a stranded girl on the side of the road, was I?"

You're both silent for a long moment. You can't exactly be mad at him for rescuing you. Still, you feel extremely uncomfortable now, knowing that he doesn't want you here. Tears pickle the corners of your eyes threateningly. You choke them back.

"Well fine, if i'm such a fucking burden, i'll leave."

You're expecting him to open the door for you. Throw you out to the wolves. So you're more than taken aback when he shakes his head at you disapprovingly.

"Like hell you will. There's about two feet of water out there. Where you gonna go?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “But i'll figure it out."

"You'll figure it out?"

"That's what I said."

Joel tuts. "Look at the state of you right now. You can barely even walk. There’s no power anywhere. Just face it: you wanna get home safely, before tomorrow, i'm your only hope."

“Fuck you,” you spit, stepping closer to him. Where does he get off, acting like such a righteous savior? You're going to brush past him, leave anyway, but as soon as you go to move, his hand is winding around your arm.

“Don't.”

“Or what?” you hiss.

“Just – don't.” His voice is less angry; more pleading.

“You don't want me here,” you say. It's not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Yes I do. I mean – I don't want anything to happen to you out there. Please just – let me make this up to you.”

His hand slides up to your shoulder. Squeezes gently. Your eyes wander to where he holds you. When they flit up to his face again, you find he's already gazing at you.

You're not sure who moves first.

You're back on his couch in an instant, your shorts being tugged down and off your legs, along with your panties. And then Joel is shouldering himself between your legs, shimmying down the couch and situating his face right in front of your pussy.

His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he gets his first taste of you, and he groans. You shudder at the sight of him, the sound of him. Your fingers find their way to the curls at the crown of his head and grasp tightly onto them.

“Is this what you need, baby?” he slurs, and you nod deliriously.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “I know.”

His tongue dips into your apex, greedily lapping up some of your sweet nectar before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, dragging it up to swipe over your swollen clit.

You instinctually buck against his face, trying to force him closer, and he chuckles. Grabs onto your thighs and pulls you toward his mouth. His tongue begins to relentlessly massage your clit and you cry out, a needy little whine that echoes through the room.

“Mhm,” he hums against you in understanding, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your core. And then he pulls away, only momentarily, to spit on your pussy, the sound of it so obscene that your eyes roll back in response. He's back on you immediately, plunging two fingers into your soaked cunt and curling them against your g-spot as his tongue laves at you.

In less than a minute, you're coming hard, gushing all over his chin and his hand. He doesn't relent until you're gasping for him to stop, scratching at his shoulders in desperation. And then he's kissing you, the taste of your arousal on his mouth, and though satiated, you've never felt so starving.

“Need you,” you mumble against his lips, your hands roving restlessly across any part of him you can reach, grasping at fabric and skin.

He nibbles at your neck and you inhale the scent of him. Commit the smell of his sweat and musk to memory. This'll probably be the only time you have him, after all. You push that thought to the back of your mind.

Sitting back on his haunches, Joel pulls off his shirt and undoes his belt. Shucks his jeans off. He hovers back over you with a newfound ferocity in his eyes.

“Up,” he orders. Helps you sit. You pull your own shirt off and toss it aside. Unclasp your bra and let it fall from your body as Joel stares wolfishly at your exposed chest.

Your eyes, on the other hand, fly straight to his cock. It tents in his boxer, his bulge a bit intimidating, and you feel yourself beginning to salivate.

He chuckles above you, hand coming to rest placatingly on your waist.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

In truth, you're not entirely sure. But you're sure as hell not about to waste any more time wondering.

“Please just – fuck me.”

He shifts his weight. Props your ankle atop his back and rests with his elbows on either side of you. And then he grinds against you, the heft of his hard cock rubbing against your bare pussy.

“Patience,” he tuts. “We got nothin’ but time.”

#summerlovin24 #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters

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dollfacefantasy · 1 year ago

Text

End of the Night

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x reader

summary: leon comes home late from a job. he finds comfort in his pregnant wife who's fast asleep.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, somnophilia, pregnancy, mentions of blood and violence and typical crime stuff

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey besties. here you go. hope everyone enjoys. if you're interested, check out my ko-fi. i appreciate the support you all give me oh so much. mwah <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

Another late night. The car rumbles as it pulls into the driveway. He shuts it off and sits there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the neighborhood street. Moonlight illuminates his bruised knuckles and bloody sleeves. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, the skin beneath the dried crimson liquid turns white. A deep sigh seeps out of his lungs.

He runs a hand through his dusty brown hair and looks in the rear view mirror, seeing his tired eyes looking back at him. He’d been meaning to get it cut, but he’d been busy as of late.

“It’s getting shaggy,” you’d tease him while scratching his scalp with your manicured nails. Then you’d lean in close and give him a big kiss on the cheek. “It looks good.”

You. His beautiful, darling wife. The greatest pride of his life. Only a few rooms apart, tucked away safe inside.

He lets out another sigh as he thinks of you, but this time it’s a breath of longing rather than exhaustion. You were why he was out here, cooling off. He’d promised himself since the day you got married those years ago, he wouldn’t let this affect you. Wouldn’t even let you get close to this side of him.

All the windows of the house are dark. He knows you’re asleep, curled up under one of the many plush blankets he’d gotten you. Face pressed into the silk pillowcase, your soft breaths drifting through the bedroom.

The mental picture brings a smile to his face instinctively. It quickly fades though as he looks down and crashes back to reality. Blood covered his suit, soaked into the fabric. He knew he’d have to just throw it away. He wouldn’t even bother asking you to wash this one.

He gets out of the car, careful to shut the door quietly. Walking up the stone path to your house, past the pristine lawn, he jams his key into the front door. The air in the house is so much warmer than the chill outside. It hits him in a rush, making his face feel numb. He slips his shoes off by the door, something you always asked him to do after one night when he had tracked remnants of some unfortunate guy all over the bedroom carpet.

Sometimes coming into the house almost made him unsettled. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it was his. That was how he felt about you too. Sure, he’d always expected to get married, but he never thought it’d be like this. Never thought he’d be happy.

He walks across the entryway and heads up the spiraling staircase, passing pictures of the two of you hung on the walls. When he reaches the bedroom, he sees exactly what he suspected. Even though he expected it, the sight of you fast asleep didn’t melt his heart any less. It filled his chest with warmth and made his head feel loopy with how much he adored you. The worst thing he could imagine was coming home and finding that bed empty. Whether you left or someone took you, he didn’t want to ever think about either. That was why he was always so careful. So that would never happen.

He pads across the room to your side of the bed and looks at your sleeping form with love in its most raw state. The kind that made him ache. He strokes your head and smooths your hair out. A light kiss lands on your forehead before he leans down and kisses your belly, swollen with his child.

More than anything on this earth, he wants to crawl into bed with you and do all that lovey dovey shit until the sun comes up. But he knew he needed to shower, not wanting to even imagine the disgust on your face if you woke up to his clothing, blotted red with blood, pressed to your skin.

He goes into the bathroom, making sure to be as close to silence as possible. He cringes when he turns the shower on, and just hopes the noise of the rushing water isn’t enough to wake you.

The next step in this little routine is taking out one of the disposable bags you now stored under the sink for nights like this. He peels off his suit and stuffs it into the plastic before dropping it in the trash. He’d take it out tomorrow.

He gives his body a once over in the mirror, looking at the stained and scarred skin before stepping into the shower. The hot water feels damn near euphoric on the taut muscles in his back. He lets out a muted groan. It sprays down on him and dampens his hair, the locks transforming from their lightened shade to a deeper brown.

The white tile surrounding the drain turns red as the marks from work get washed away. He uses the little scrubby thing you bought him, making sure all of it is really gone. Washing his hair too, he uses some of your shampoo tonight just for your scent.

He can feel the pressure dissolving in his shoulders and the tight coils in his back beginning to unwind. He no longer feels like a live wire. The hot tension in his neck melts and rolls down his back, pooling in his belly. The heat of stress evolves into the warmth of desire.

When he’s finally done in the shower, he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. Water droplets roll down his chest as he dries his hair. He then takes care of his other getting-ready-for-bed tasks and comes into the bedroom. He pulls on some flannel pajama pants and turns to his bed, ready to finally lay with his stunning wife and hold you till he passes out.

But when he looks over at you, that warmth that collected within him starts to bubble up into a boil. You had shifted positions, kicked the covers off so that you were much more exposed. It wasn’t unusual for you. The fact that it was freezing out now didn’t stop your body from heating up like a furnace while you slept. It started when you first fell pregnant, and while it caused you great discomfort, Leon secretly enjoyed it, infatuated with the warm, soft feeling of you against him in the night.

You were wearing a baby pink nighty he’d bought for you. It barely held your breasts which had just started to fill out more a few weeks ago. The lower part of the dress bunched up around your waist just below your bump, letting him see the matching panties you had on. He nearly drools as he imagines your lush thighs around his head, locking his face against that fabric.

God, and the final straw, your sweet, precious face. So clueless, not the slightest idea that your husband was a few feet away, leering at you. Slightly parted lips, twitching lashes, those cute round cheeks. It was too much. He had to do something even if it risked disturbing your slumber.

He had already drifted to the foot of the king-sized bed in his lustful stupor. Kneeling on the mattress, he leans forward and crawls to his target. One hand scoops up one of your legs, placing it on his shoulder. The other does the same to your second leg. It was just as he’d imagined, that familiar engulfing heat against his cheeks, around his neck.

Flat on his stomach, he brings his head in. His thumbs hook on your nightgown to slide it up a little more, resting it on the peak of your bump. His lips meet your clothed pussy in a gentle kiss. He then takes a deep breath, inhaling his favorite smell.

He trails some more kisses up the fabric to the level of your clit. The cloth gathers wet splotches from his saliva. Before removing the garment, he nuzzles your center, dragging his nose upwards against the silk.

Everything about you was soft, tender. From your voice as you spoke to the way you looked at him with love pooling in your eyes. His refuge from everything else, the blood, the betrayal, the guilt.

He loops his finger under the strip of fabric that conceals your cunt from him. After tugging them down, his eyes train on your folds. He locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, smothering himself with you. Closing his eyes, he gets to work.

He delves his tongue between the velvety skin and licks stripes upward. His tongue draws skillful patterns on you and swirls around your clit before taking the sensitive bud between his lips to suck on it.

And there it is. You squirm ever so slightly. Your hips shift, but he keeps them pinned down in place. A small grunt leaves you and a smirk rises to his lips. So sweet, his innocent girl, never the wiser.

In waking life, he wished he could keep you so blissfully unaware. Obviously, you weren’t privy to how deep the darkness of his work went. You had a basic idea though, and that was too much for his taste. You didn’t deserve to know any of that stuff even existed. He wanted to shield you from all of it. Just let you live like a princess in a castle without wondering how he could afford to give you that castle in the first place.

He shoos his concerns away by burying himself further in your cunt. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid succession, applying pressure with his gentle sucking. A sense of satisfaction comes over him as he feels your slick beginning to coat his chin. He increases his efforts and flattens his tongue on your clit before going back down and working it into your hole.

He laps every drop of you he can, groaning at the taste. His arms squeeze tighter around your thighs, and he takes a deeper breath of that heady scent. He’s so laser focused on your pussy, he doesn’t fully register the moans beginning to spill from your lips.

Finally, he perks up when he hears possibly his favorite sound in the entire world.

“Leon?” you whimper, your voice soft and shaky with arousal.

He groans again, opening his mouth now to make out with your cunt. His tongue massages you and works inside you again.

“S’ok, baby, everything’s ok. Keep having those pretty dreams,” he mumbles into the junction of your thighs.

He doubts you could even hear that at the volume he spoke it, but he’s back to work anyways. Your squirming is getting more frequent as the coils of pleasure tighten within you. Your legs shift around in a futile attempt to alleviate the disruption to your rest.

More wetness collects between your legs, mixing with his spit and making your folds slippery. It’s the best feeling ever to him, he just can’t get enough. That smooth, slick skin. Your warm, plush thighs. He’d do this all day if he could. Any stress he’d had from work was as dead as the guy who’s blood had ruined his suit.

With one particular stroke of his tongue, you rouse from sleep. Your legs tighten around his head with a few conscious whimpers. You lift your head and look down at the mop of hair working at the apex of your thighs. You lazily run your fingers through the locks.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, your voice a little whiny from the nonstop ministrations to your cunt. Your head falls back to the pillow with a soft gasp.

“I think it’s obvious what I’m doing, sweetheart,” he teases before continuing.

“Bad day?” you rasp.

“No. Now shhh. Let me make you feel good, honey,” he says simply.

While Leon loved talking to you, he couldn’t eat you out till you were trembling if he was using his mouth for anything else. He returns his full attention to your pussy, devoting all his energy to getting you to that peak.

Your moans are louder now, becoming higher pitched as sparks of ecstasy fly inside you. The sheets gather and twist around your body as you writhe on the mattress. Toes curling as moon light shines through the curtains in your bedroom, you suck in a hushed gasp as his fingers slide inside you with ease.

You’re so sensitive from your condition that it only takes a few gentle pumps and scissoring motions of his fingers to have you dangling from that pleasurable edge. Your hips try to buck, but again, his palms have you secure, right where he wants you.

“Fuck… Leon. I- I- babe, I’m gonna-” you whimper while your breathing becomes more labored.

“Come on, babydoll,” he nearly growls, “You can do it. Cum for me. All over my face.”

Strained cries rise in your throat, your hips rhythmically rolling into the pleasure he provides. Not one to ever resist him, it’s only moments later that you do as he says, the band of euphoria inside you snapping.

He works you through it, not stopping his tongue or fingers. Your moans are deep and loud. There was no reason to be concerned with volume so you let the sounds fill the bedroom and spill into the hall. Wet noises bloom from the bottom of the bed as your release coats Leon’s fingers.

Not wanting to waste anything, he laps up every drop of you that he can. His tongue makes broad strokes over your cunt, and even as you begin coming down, he doesn’t let up right away. You squeal and squirm as your high overflows. Your feet weakly kick at his shoulder to signal it’s too much.

“Leon… can’t take it… fuck,” you whine and claw at each side of the pillow behind your head.

Normally, he’d keep going. Mouth would be latched on to your pussy for the next hour at least. Swirling circles around that pretty clit until you were crying and had gone hoarse. But right now, you’re carrying his baby. Your days are hard enough, and the last thing he wants is to be the cause of any discomfort for you.

He forces himself off of you, panting as he disconnects and pushes himself up. Looking up at you, his eyes are blown out with love. You roll on to your side, stretching your sleepy limbs as you slip back into the state of relaxation you were in before he’d woken you. He watches you, adoring the way your mouth widens into a yawn as he crawls up the bed to slot himself behind you.

Curling up against your warm body, he lets out a hum of satisfaction. He places a few tender kisses on your neck and behind your ear. His fingers run through your hair and stroke it back from your face in soothing motions.

“My pretty little wife,” he whispers.

Now you hum in satisfaction. Your hand finds his which was on your belly, rubbing your bump. You gently squeeze it before lifting it to your lips and kissing each one of his bruised knuckles. It was something you’d done hundreds of times at this point in your relationship, but it was never any less special to him.

“How’re my girls tonight?” he murmurs and places more kisses on the side of your head.

“We’ve been good,” you answer softly, voice becoming sleepy again already, “Well, she has. She’s just like her dad. Been kicking ass inside my stomach all night.”

Your eyes are closed, but it’s as if you can see the grin on Leon’s face. “She can act like me all she wants as long as she’s as cute as her mother,” he breathes with a peck to your temple.

No matter how many times he’d say things like that to you, you could never fight the heat that rose to your cheeks and the smile that broke out on your face. You turn and connect his lips in one final kiss before you settle into the pillows to sleep again.

He just watches you, the best way for him to unwind at the end of the day. When he looks at you it’s easier to remember that while tomorrow’s gonna be another day in his life full of gunshots and corpses, it’s also gonna be another one he spends with you, spends waiting for that perfect baby in your belly.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut #ch: leon kennedy 💌

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 7 months ago

Text

⛐ 𝟔𝟗 𝐌𝐏𝐇⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

synopsis: sfw+ nsfw headcannons for Racer Diluc!

tags: riding, car sex, creampie, clitplay, vulgar, explicit, spanking, dirty talk

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

^ྀི racer!diluc who always sprints over to you after each event is over, bringing the winning medal to drape around your neck right after giving you the sweetest and warmest kiss. Even if he lost, he always won in the end if you were there in the crowd.

^ྀི racer!diluc who let you design his outfit. Every small patch is a little showpieces to him. If any happened to come off, he'd be sewing them back on as soon as he got the chance. Every event was an opportunity to show off your amazing work.

^ྀི racer!diluc who can't help but need you as his prize after a race. Even if he won, you're the thing he's after the most.

Driving home, impressing you every now with a few tricks while his hand is stationed on your thigh; his grip slightly tightening while the tires burn and create marks on the road. Thoughts of all the marks he'd put on you racing through his mind at each red light.

^ྀི racer!diluc who's obsessed with watching you ride him in the front seat. His hands grip the crease of skin between your hips and thighs, thumb resting inbetween as he helps you move up and down on his thick cock; head thrown back over the lowered headrest of his car, any sane person would never let such an expensive car get sullied. But Diluc was anything but sane right now, ravenous was a better word for it. Starved, feral, not many words could describe the sheer need he had for you in the moment.

"Fuck...you're so perfect..." He'd groan, the red strands of his hair fell perfectly around him, bangs sticking to his sweaty face as the length layed onto one of his shoulders. Perfect for grabbing while you pulled yourself towards him; cunt grinding against him as his cock pressed against be spongy part inside your walls, threatening to ruin the leather seats.

With a swift hand, he pulled the lever to the left of him and lowered the entire seat down, his hair now dangling off the seat while your tits did the same above his face; taking the opportunity to put your buds in his mouth.

"Diluc...shit..." You moan, fingers gripping onto his chest as he sucks, flicking his tongue on your nipples until they were even harder and more sensitive. He smirks against your skin, his hand now reaching up to palm your ass, giving it a rewarding smack that only made you jolt up and back down on his cock.

You feel it throbbing inside you, hips thrusting up to meet yours, the car rocking with each movement. You couldn't help but let out a loud moan, feeling the pleasure building up inside you. Diluc's lips move to yours, his hand finds its way to your neck, gripping it firmly as he whispers dirty words into your ear, telling you how good you're taking him, how he can feel your clit pulse against him, how much he wants to fuck his cum inside you til you're so full you can't speak.

He begins to thrust into you, his hand now moving down to rub your swollen clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he fucks up into you; desperately you try and ride into your orgasm.

"Just like that princess...you're almost there yeah? Come for me."

And then, with one final thrust, you both reach your climax, bodies shaking and moans escaping your lips. You collapse onto each other, breathless and satisfied.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin smut #diluc x y/n #diluc smut #diluc x you #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc art #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin scenarios

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sschizoid · 1 month ago

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Hello :3 may I pretty please request like, hcs of the tulpar crew traveling together?

I mean imagine this, they gather all their last paychecks from Pony Express and decide a place to go, how, what to see...etc

I just think I'd have some fun dynamics

omg hehe this ask has so much room for fun interpretation, like where are they going, how they're getting there, etc. but I think I'm gonna narrow this down tooooo badadadadadadadadum AIRPORT! where they're going is up to you!

-- curly

he's what you would call an Airport Dad™. wakes up EARLY to pack everything into the car and to pick everyone else up. keeps worrying that they're going to be late but they end up arriving 3 hours before boarding

overpacks. has a checked luggage just barely within weight parameters, as well as a carry-on AND a backpack. he packs for every scenario, every weather type, every activity

he's the one that bought everybody's ticket and holds onto them for safekeeping. he's also got one of those airline SkyMile credit cards, so he got everyone a pretty good deal regarding expenses!

brought one of those neck pillows since he gets stiff pretty easily when sitting down for too long. also brought one of those cooling eye masks and comfy socks. bro is the plane equivalent of a passenger princess

jimmy

he was still sleeping when curly got to his house. oh also he forgot to pack the night before, so he makes everyone wait in the car for 30 extra minutes while he takes his sweet ass time shoving random shit into a backpack

probably the least traveled of the group. his family never took vacations when he was growing up, so the furthest he's been from home is just a state or two, and even then it was just for work and not leisure

takes up as much space as humanly possible, stretching his legs, spreading his elbows wide, etc. if the person sitting next to him tries to ask for a bit more space, he puts on headphones after the fact then pretends he doesn't hear them

definitely the type to glare at the mother of a crying baby in hopes of making her feel embarrassed or ashamed

anya

super forgetful and cannot remember if she packed toiletries or not. oh god, what about socks? did she pack socks ??? ends up spending $50 on various airport-priced items just in case

lowkey really scared of flying. she's done it tons of times before but still white-knuckle clenches the armrests during takeoff

brings lots of books. this is a great time for her to catch up on the reading she's been putting off with all of her work and schooling

never gets to reading said books, and instead sleeps like a log the whole trip. she's tired !!

swansea

was the only person ready in time when curly came around to pick everyone up. like, standing outside on the porch, bags at his feet ready

waits 20 minutes in line for coffee, but when he gets to the front and sees that a 12oz black drip is $5 he turns around and walks away. complains about airport prices for the next few hours, talking about "highway robbery" until they're finally boarded

"remember to pop your ears, you'll get a headache if you don't"

aisle seat. NEEDS an aisle seat. if the ticket curly bought him isn't in the aisle, he'll shamelessly ask other passengers to switch with him. he likes the extra leg room and ease of access to the bathroom

daisuke

makes the metal detector go off multiple times. "oops, forgot my belt!" BEEP "oh, man, that's probably my keys, sorry." BEEP "oh shit, my phone!" BEEP "waitwaitwait hold on hold on—"

his goal is to be that one person you see in passing at the airport that is just the most beautiful stranger you've ever seen. his hair? styled. his skin? dewy. his fit? fun, colorful, and literally insane for the setting. he dresses to impress!

checking out all the shops and food options before boarding, just straight wandering off without saying anything. comes back 20 min later with a keychain that says "I LEFT MY ❤️ AT ______ INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT" because he thinks its funny as fuck

insists he take the window seat but keeps the curtain closed the entire flight because the sun is casting a glare on his handheld

THANK UUUU for your request, I hope this is sufficient! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

#mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing headcanons #rq

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bigification · 8 months ago

Text

Carrier

The intersection of 4th and 7th is clos-

Click

That's that me espre-

Click

Reports of a disease carried by mosquitos have flooded north America. Hospitals can't keep up and the CDC is struggling to contain it. Professionals are suggesting to stay inside as much as possible, and to wear bug spray when outdoors. Symptoms of the disease ar-

Click

"This is bullshit, it's just fear mongering. People talk about world ending shit all the time and it's always nothing." Kane said as he pulled up to the south valley hiking trail. A trail he visited often to escape the real world. It was usually busy, but today it was completely empty. "Such a beautiful day and everyone's wasting away inside." He scoffs.

Kane parked his car and stepped out into the beaming sunlight. "Good day to work on my tan." He said as he pulled off his plaid shirt and headed down to the trail.

Only a few minutes into the hike and the bugs come out. They usually never bother him, but that radio broadcast was stuck in his head.

Bzzzz- Smack!

"Ah shit!" He yelled as he smacked the back of his neck. That bite hurt a lot more than he expected. "Maybe I should be a bit more careful." Kane muttered under his breath as he slipped his shirt back on.

He couldn't quite get comfortable after that. He was paranoid about the mosquitos. That bite he got earlier kept getting itchier, and his chest felt really tight. As he was walking he kept unconsciously unbuttoning his shirt. Each button came off with a sigh of relief, but then the tightness would return and he would have to remove another button. Until the shirt was completely open.

"Man I'm getting tired." Kane said, out of breath. He stopped hiking for a moment. He wiped the sweat off his face, wondering why he was having so much trouble on a trail he had done dozens of times before. His hand drifted to his stomach to scratch an itch, and he nearly jumped in shock when his hand sunk into the soft fat on his belly.

"What the fuck!" He said poking at the round belly that protruded out of his open shirt. He then noticed the soft moobs that hung above them, adding to his shock.

"What the fuck is happening to me!? Was it the mosquitos?" He said, panicking. He was running short of breath as he felt all of the soft rolls of fat that covered his entire body. His plump ass and thick thighs that threatened to burst out of his pants. His double chin hidden under his beard. Even his bulging love handles that spilled over his waistline. He was getting fat.

"Oh fuck." He said as he took off his hat and rubbed his thick hands through his hair. His hairline started to recede and the hair that was left was thinning.

"I... I gotta get back." He said as he finally caught his breath.

He turned and started running back. But it was getting harder with the extra padding on his body. He felt his gut and his moobs bounce with every step, weighing him down. His tightening pants restricted his movement, and his increasing weight made it harder for him to move.

It felt like forever, but he finally made it back to his car. He didn't want to look, but it felt like his gut had doubled in size on the way back. And he doesn't even want to know what his hair looks like.

He sits in the car, sliding the seat back to even fit inside. He thought about whether to go home or to a hospital or what. He decided on a hospital, and stepped on the gas. His heart was racing, but something in his mind was telling him to relax. Almost as if nothing had even gone wrong on the hike. Why was he even on a hike, hikes are for pussies anyway. He just couldn't wait to get home and have a beer, maybe watch the game.

He pulled into his driveway, completely forgetting that he planned on going to the hospital. Why go to the hospital when there's nothing wrong with him, he's exactly the man he wants to be.

As he got into his house, he unzipped his fly, relieving the pressure in his pants with a sigh. He grabbed some leather and threw it on, thinking it looked sick. And finally he grabbed a cold one and a cigar.

He sat on his front porch, feeling the leather wrap around his man tits and his bulging gut lay on his lap. He cranked the radio as he lit his cigar.

-and the wear bug spray when outdoors. Symptoms of the disease are rapid weight gain, increase in testosterone, and an increase in aggressive and confident behavior-

Bzzzz- Smack!

"Hehe, why would a man want it any other way."

- Carrier B-Sides -

Father and son take vacation in Florida. The duo got bitten several times over their vacation and remained unphased by the drastic changes done to their bodies. Due to the amount of bites by infected mosquitos, the father and son have gained the most weight of any known victim so far. The pair insist that nothing is wrong, despite pictures taken before the trip placing them at 160 and 200 pound respectfully. The two now weigh 360 and 320 pounds respectfully, and their credit cards show them buying new clothes nearly everyday, starting from larges to now five XLs that they're wearing now. Both have been taken in for guaranteeing, and for additional research.

Sports teams around the world have been destroyed by the spread of the disease. An increasing amount of players are showing up to practices and games unrecognizable from the men they used to be. Many have become overweight and overly aggressive, making them unable to play. Teams are also reporting an unprecedented amount of sexual relations in between players. Most major sports organizations have been put on pause until things stabilize.

People are starting to wonder whether certain politicians are fit to do their jobs after infection. Many become impulsive and erratic, with little ability to think for the future. Many politicians and world leaders have begun having secret meetings without any infected people, but the disease has wiped out many of these politicians. Below is a before and after of one such politician one week ago and yesterday. Conspiracies have also been spreading that government officials who have been infected have begun intentionally infected others in order to take over entire governments.

Local Sheriff was in charge of temporarily holding infected individuals before they could be quarantined. The sheriff was bitten by one of the infected men. He soon started to show symptoms, he grew so fat that be burst out of his uniform. He then released the infected men, who then wreaked havoc on the small town. This was the first record case of the infection spreading human to human.

A couple left their window open during a romantic dinner they had for an anniversary. One of the men was bitten by a mosquito during their dinner, but hadn't shown signs of infection. The infected make them brought his boyfriend to their bedroom. The infected man started to show symptoms while having sex. He started to grow visibly fatter. He started to get more aggressive with his partner. His partner showed concern but did not stop the situation. The infected man finished inside of his partner, who quickly started to show signs of infection. He grew about as far as his partner had. This was the first reported case for the disease being sexually transmitted.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #male wg #reality change #male transformation #muscle tf

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deluluass · 14 days ago

Text

Time cast a spell on you

Content warnings: rape/noncon; graphic depictions of violence; major character death; self-harm; implied suicide; name-calling; degradation; misogyny Other tags: heavy angst; yakuza AU; multiverse; reincarnation; actually just an old lady's excuse to finally write a silver springs angstfic

*SUMMARY*

There are two things about his life that Sukuna knows to be true.

One—

He was born to rise above all men.

And, two—

This is not the first time.

It's like picking a flower when he takes you on his lap. "Wanna hear about the little shit from earlier?" he groans into your ear, squeezing your ass.

"Sir, the blade."

You're keeping yourself from landing where he's got his thighs spread apart— prude bitch, but he is who he is. And you're just not strong enough.

"All good, doll," Sukuna reassures you.

The straight razor in your hand could cut his throat. You're not being stupid for keeping it at arm's length. It's old— the kind of thing brown-nosers would call vintage, collected and well-cared for with a gold handle— but it sure as hell can nick and make a caught fish out of a grown man. He knows because he’s since developed an eye for these things. That’s why when it was gifted to him a few years back, he had done nothing more but make the guy lick the toe of his shoe for being so thoughtful towards poor, fatherless Sukuna.

He offers his throat to you and juts out his chin, stubble lathered with cream.

“Just be careful,” he teases.

You go to work without a word. The blade is a kiss against the barely-there hair. You glide your hand sure as can be, fingers resting over the shank, until half of his face is as smooth as a baby’s bum. Water drips from the faucet and clinks into the wide porcelain tub behind him.

The silence could tick off even a monk.

“Anyway, this man, right?” Sukuna begins to mutter, curling his lips in once you shave over his mouth. “Drove me up the wall today, kitten, you wouldn’t even believe it. Water boarded, tased, had his balls cut off, still, not talking. But just as I thought he would— ‘Don’t fuck with people who got nothin’ left to lose,’ he tells me.”

You are soft under his palm. “So, I’m like, fuck does that even mean?” Sukuna continues, bending his neck to the side to give you more room to work with. “And that’s when I just about lost it. I was hungry. It was hot and I was getting tired. We’ve been at it for five fucking hours and I had to end it somehow. What’s a guy to do, huh?”

You don’t answer, but he keeps going. “I had his bitch taken out of the car.”

The blade over his jaw halts. Sukuna grins. Open his mouth some more and that thing could kill him right now. But would it? Would you? He feels his cock, stiff as a motherfucker and balls heavy in his boxers.

“Pretty, young thing. My boys said she was tight too.” The bit of skin where his lips meet stings when you stroke over there. “And that’s when he started singing.”

His laugh rumbles off his chest, before pulling you closer. “Like a bird,” he sighs to your ear.

Don’t fuck with people who got nothing left to lose, my ass.

Your heart is a battering ram, and he feels every weak, desperate blow. There’s no longer a trace of cream to be found on his face.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Sukuna coos as he tips your chin up. “Something I said?”

As always, you do not speak, that gaze of yours gone off to someplace else. He clicks his tongue. The blade sinks down, down, down over his throat. Your hands tremble as tears come rushing down your face.

There she is, he thinks with a satisfied groan.

“Go,” he commands. “Kill me.”

He waits, watching you as his thumbs caress the swell of your tits, then mouthing your nipples over the loose cotton of your top. Your nipples harden over his sweeping tongue. He bites and takes the fabric between his teeth.

The blade nips in time, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Blood trickles to his bare chest. It blends seamlessly with the cherry blossoms and dragons tattooed on the pectorals, although old Emma-ō on his stomach looks like he gashed his eye out.

This is his favorite part. And it never gets old no matter how many times he sees it: your face falling apart, searching for a way out only to come to terms with the fact that this is it.

There’s nowhere to go. You’ve reached a dead end.

It was raining that day he first caught sight of this. On your knees before him, a blade hung over your neck— a simple, crude, mundane blade—held by a lowly servant. That was all that you amounted to. You didn’t even deserve a death dealt by any of his four arms.

And that’s all that you amount to now. You take the razor off his neck and bring it to yours.

“You’re gonna kill yourself? Some big plan you have there.” He scoffs, pushing your ass down to grind into you. “Do it, little girl.”

Your panties are pushed to the side, but nothing comes out of you. Not a single gasp or moan. Just those tears and that never ending vacuousness before you. His fingers twitch. He should just kill you right now. Get this all over with.

“Worthless cunt,” Sukuna growls, before grabbing your neck. The razor clatters off your grip. And soon enough you’re on the floor beneath him, throwing scratches and kicks that almost hit him. So, so close.

The blotched scar on your left palm peeks through his clutch.

“That’s more like it,” he barks out, laughing as he pins your wrists to the pearl tiles. Your thighs are forced apart, hanging limply over his. “Now, say it.”

“You’re a monster!”

His laughter rings sharply in his ears. “How nostalgic.”

He takes his cock out of his boxers, heavy in his hand and already leaking, before smacking the tip over your clit.

“What’re you hoping to achieve this time, hm?” It doesn’t take long before he’s aching to have your cunt gripping around him. His cock is slick enough for the both of you anyway. “Take it, you’re a good girl, you can take it, good girl, just like that, yeah.”

You whimper breathlessly, releasing that cute little whistle of a cry every time his thrusts brush the cushy, spongy lump way, way deep inside you. Sukuna feels his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he just can’t help it.

“You look so pathetic,” he jeers. Pathetic and even prettier when he gives your face a slap or two. “Were you hoping I’d take pity on you? Show remorse, that it? And what d’you think’s gonna happen after you bleed to death? I’ll tell you, it’s okay, I’ll tell you—”

He leans down, your lips almost touching, as he tells you, gently, “I’ll call for room service, have your body in a bag, give the cleaning guy a tip for his time, and then— then that would be it. That is it. You have nothing. No one would say anything, no one would cry, no one would go searching. Your story ends at a dump. Just some pussy to sell.”

Tears wet his cheeks, tracking like a stream, and his cock throbs inside you. If heaven were real, it exists right here. “Then, once that’s over, I’d get another piece of ass that won’t fuck me over the way you did.”

You’re a hyperventilating, hiccupping mess, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He pulls out, then drags you down by the leg so that your face is at the receiving end of his cock.

All it takes are some nice, firm tugs at his shaft and he’s shooting his load all over that pathetic, pretty little face. A creamy splatter over the bridge of your nose, dripping down your cheek and mingling with drying tears. Sukuna doesn’t bother wiping when he’s got you for it.

“Clean it up, baby,” he whispers.

And you do.

You suck at the tip where he’s still leaking, tongue lapping up what’s left of cum.

He then gets up to pat his face with a towel and a shaving lotion, gelling his hair back afterwards. You hobble towards the other side of the bathroom. Your lone figure, sitting naked inside the tub, is reflected and scattered into a hundred different you’s by the floor-to-ceiling mirrors caging you on all sides.

The hot water spills over the wide tub and into the floor. Sukuna sighs, before approaching you to grip the back of your head, leaving a loud kiss on your lips. You bite back, and his cock twitches again.

He forces his tongue in, keeping his eyes open. So do you.

You part with both of your spit tied loosely together, until it melts and disappears into the water.

“Please lock the door on your way out,” you croak.

After all that, any man would feel compelled enough to move mountains, so he indulges you.

The lights in the walk-in closet are bright when he dons his button-up and slacks. He sits on the chair that faces the skyline. Under his feet, the city waits, half-asleep. A whiskey later, and he still hears water rushing.

And rushing.

Sukuna throws the decanter into the carpet, then strides to the bathroom. But he finds, with a sneer, that he cannot get in.

“Open,” he growls as he twists the handle and bangs the door. “Don’t fuck with me, open the door.”

Like most things, it eventually breaks under his hands, and once it does, the door crashes with a thunderous clap, alerting the men posted outside.

They wait behind him, no one dares to move until he does.

It takes Sukuna a second before he’s stepping inside the bathroom. The water on the floor is bright red, spreading like ink, and the closer he gets, the darker it becomes. You are lying in the tub, hand splayed over the rim. Your fingers are slack around the straight razor. You are a cold, plucked flower in his arms.

And the water does not stop rushing.

“FOR COLLUDING WITH THE SORCERERS OF THE NORTH, FOR THIS TERRIBLE ACT OF TREACHERY AGAINST LORD SUKUNA, AND FOR UPSETTING THE GODS WHO WE BESEECH TO GRANT US MERCY IN THE COMING HARVEST—”

They are no better than ants as they bustle towards the courtyard. Commoners and nobility alike jab their way to get the best view even when there are dark clouds overhead, while handmaids trail behind the highborn ladies with bright silk robes, parasols popping open one after the other. Ants and dogs, the lot of them.

The air is humid, and it brings with it a stench of iron that makes Sukuna’s mouth water. The spectacle of bloodshed has not been done in a long, long time, and anyone with a pulse clamor for it, regardless of where they stand in this insignificant, unimpressive kingdom.

Seated on the dais, he yawns and thinks, in hindsight, that he could just end this all himself. But he does not. By his side, Sukuna can feel Uraume’s shame like hail against the earth.

It was him, after all, that brought you to Sukuna as a gift.

To while away the quiet hours, he said.

A poor villager whose meagre value lies in what’s trapped inside her skull. Washed up ashore. No family. Not even a single thing to call her own.

“— IS HEREBY SENTENCED TO DEATH!”

The priest pauses. The audience catches its breath.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY LAST WORDS?”

You make no sound, head down and on your knees: the center of the attention of a hundred gluttonous eyes.

To everyone’s delight, it is Sukuna that breaks the silence.

“I want to see her,” he orders. They make you turn away from the people.

And you do not disappoint Sukuna. You never have.

The emotions of the lowest animal flutter across your face— a predictable end to be sure, but even then, your gaze does not falter.

You look at him as the priests chant a prayer. You look at him as the executioner lifts the sword. You look at him and, in that heartbeat where the blade just about grazes your nape, it seems to Sukuna like you’re witnessing this entire execution from high up above.

All twenty of his fingers itch. “Arrogant wench,” he mutters.

The sword sings at the taste of your blood as your head tumbles off into the mud.

Rain, soon enough, begins to fall like arrows on the capital.

After the crowd has dispersed, sated, Sukuna dismisses Uraume. And then he is left alone.

He steps out into the rain, stopping only to where they held you down. The rain has already washed out the blood, but right where he’s standing there are two dents on the ground the size of pebbles.

That must’ve been where you’d dug your knees.

He crouches down. The tips of his fingers sink into the hollow soil.

He feels rain drops break on his skin, tungsten and diamond, and the fire that has forged him grows bigger, deeper inside him. It feels like it’ll lay waste to his own body, but it doesn’t. Instead, it eats the whole world. The fire chews through wood, metal, and mineral, until screams and cries create a symphony just for his ears.

Yet, it only feels colder, somewhat— and the only warmth comes from where he’s got his fingers buried.

The rain does not stop. Fire reduces to ash. Water reduces to smoke.

And in his mouth, there is a child’s curse, tumbling off his lips.

How does it go again?

Rush, rush, rivers, oceans, rush into a steam…

“Whish, whoosh,” Sukuna drones. “Whish, whoosh, go and form daydreams.”

There are two things about his life that Sukuna knows to be true.

One—

He was born to rise above all men.

And, two—

This is not the first time.

He understands the factual nature of these two things because he recalls, in vivid detail, two of the times that he’s been alive. He had four arms that he still misses to this day like phantom limbs. This is what he knows the moment he gets old enough to pick pockets.

In each one of them, Sukuna remembers the sensation of power.

Raw, soaring power unlike anything that has ever existed before. In the first life, Sukuna was a sorcerer, a demon, and— more accurately, he was a god.

The second one is a bit different. Stranger, too, funny enough, than the first. He was not any of those things, but close to it, in a way. The memories come to him inside a cell after a fight. In that life, Sukuna conquered galaxies, and the stars and the suns and the moons yielded to him. Planets gave under his feet. That ancient future called him emperor, and there was not a corner of that vast universe that did not tremble at his name.

The first one has got to be his favorite, while this one… took some getting used to.

Sukuna only has two arms to begin with. The standard affair. He doesn’t have a curse to wield or a galactic army to lead. Nevertheless, it starts where it always does: at the bottom of the fucking barrel.

Little Ryomen Sukuna grew up in the dingiest alley of Kabuki-cho and had a crack whore for a mother. Power was something that he had to grab by the throat with nothing but his own two, regular hands, but— power was power.

And no matter where he was, in what lifetime, in what form, power was something that would eventually come to him.

It couldn’t be more evident tonight.

A year in the game and Sukuna’s already made a hostess out of Kamo’s first lieutenant— an ugly, garlic-breathed hostess pouring him a drink.

The old man pushes more women to his lap, to which they titter and giggle in response. Sukuna lets them hang onto him, fat cigar in his mouth, while the old man makes a jester of himself trying to get on his good side. To his credit, he does everything that might put a smile on Sukuna’s face, even going as far as to make a scene with another waitress.

Drinks shatter and the women surrounding them yelp out of the couch. Even the ashtray has turned to shards. Another gimmick and this old man’s done. Sukuna wouldn’t even mind if a war comes out of it. Maybe it’s just what he needs.

“Do you know who you’re serving, you dumb slut?” He’s slurring his words as he jabs his thumb in Sukuna’s direction. “You can’t even give us some quality fish?! What kinda dump are you runnin’, huh?! This tastes like soap!”

As the woman bows in apology, he grabs his glass to splash its contents at her— maybe he thought this would amuse Sukuna.

“We’re sorry for the food, sir,” she announces in a clipped tone, head still down and her uniform damp with sake. Sukuna couldn’t see the entirety of her face, but it’s visible enough for him to know that she’s just a waitress, if the shapeless pants and long sleeves didn’t already make it obvious. There to put food down as silently as possible, not pretty enough to be taken out. “I’ll inform our manager about this situation right now.”

“No, no, no, missy, y’cmere, look— y’don’t gotta call anyone— could get you into trouble! I’m forgiving enough, hm! We can jus settle this ourselves, w’dyou say?”

The old man grabs her by the shoulder, pushes her down to her knees, and turns her towards Sukuna. Her eyes are still trained to the floor.

“This fine, young man over here, well, you just broke his ashtray, and now his cigar’s makin’ a mess— see that? Ash every fuckin’ where! Now—”

He snatches her left wrist as if she’s some marionette and extends it, palm open all beggar-like, to where ash falls. “—All you gotta do’s improvise! Ladies! The night’s still young! Let’s all have fun!”

The party returns, business as usual. Sukuna only watches.

He watches the women and men— each and every one a whore, drink and sing and dance until the whole room looks like it’s about to throw up.

He watches the old man bend over backwards and just about present his asshole for fucking.

And he watches her as he flicks his cigar clean.

The ashes on her palm have accumulated into a hill. She doesn’t make a noise, wouldn’t be heard in the cacophony anyway, but Sukuna sees her flinch when ember hits her skin. The women beside him aren’t subtle. They peck and lick his neck and fondle his cock to keep his cigar away from her palm, but—

He wonders, keeping his eyes on her, what would happen if—

Sukuna flicks the cigar onto her palm, then pulls it away as he peels a manicured hand off his crotch, and even with her head down she must have already guessed because before he could even stick the glowing stub to the bit of flesh he’d intended—

She catches it.

The waitress, still on her knees, rises to seize the cigar in her palm. It burns through her skin and the sizzling invades his nostrils like grease. The women beside him cry out with the waitress, but nobody stops him as he presses it down to her palm.

“S-stop- stop it…!” Sukuna hears.

She remains on her knees, a guttural scream clamped between her teeth. Her palm does not budge, and when she finally raises that stubborn head to look at him, what he sees in there is louder than what any scream, any curse could ever be.

In her eyes are the thousand different ways that she wants him dead, along with a million other lives, and a million more universes, imploding together like a great storm.

Sukuna laughs— a sharp, incredulous thing that was stolen from right under his nose.

“It’s you,” he gasps lowly. “It is you.”

---

“—I, OF THE FEW AND HUMBLE BA-A-AYLAN, CONDEMN THIS DOMITOR’S CLAWS OVER OUR MAM-A-NA GALAXIAS…!”

The assembly is in an uproar. Guards from hovering balconies land on the steps below him. Their rifles, however, remain suspended as soon as he lifts a finger, his chin resting on the opposite hand. Remnants of the fiery rocks that used to decorate the aisle are now scattered across the polished, onyx floor, crimson pocks among the swirling cosmos around your feet.

“Y-YOU WOUND OUR LANDS- RAPE...! AND PILLAGE...!”

The beaded halo perched on your head is askew— like a gale had gone through a garden. Gold and silver coins hang from your two earlobes and on the frayed ends of your vestment. They clink together like rain as you collapse on your knees. Sweat tarnishes some of the coloring painted on your face, revealing streaks of tender, quivering skin. Although the red dot on the right side is intact, the other one is being nursed behind a bleeding hand— scorched, like the rest of your face.

A courtier points at the slaver groveling on all fours a few paces behind you. “Death to the human pirate! You dare bring this- this impertinent witch before the Emperor Du-o Dech-Im Nihil! Death!”

“P-please, my lords…! Sp-spare me…! She speaks in tongues— e-exactly what one would expect from an exotic creature—”

“Silence!”

“She is a virgin, my lords! Untouched!”

“The witch has burned half its face! It is now sullied and no longer fit for He Who Brings to Heel!”

A single glance from him is all it takes to silence the rabble.

Sukuna descends the steps.

He wraps one hand around your waist and picks you up with it. Your toes dangle over the strewn rocks. A talon lifts your chin to meet his eyes.

The unburnt side of your face winces in pain, feeble arms grappling out of his hold.

Millennia have passed since he has laid eyes upon your kind. After complete subjugation, there has been nothing much more for this lot other than labor— creatures to trade with and make trade of. There may be squabbles on that side of the universe that would-be lords and conquerors can make a feast of, but it no longer interests him.

Extinction dawns with a dimmer star besides.

Very few things can occupy his mind and even stay there. Sukuna has forgotten what the last human being he’s encountered looked like. Even the pirate, with its familiar weaponry and slaver’s garments are alien to him now, but— curious, isn’t it?

It is as if he has seen you before.

Just you.

Somewhere, in one of the corners of this endless universe.

He could’ve done this quicker, without all the melodrama, but the people at the bar called themselves your family. Sukuna heard it with his own ears when he followed you back to the kitchen after that night.

“We know you’re on your own,” they told you as they dabbed medicine on your palm. “But you’ve got a family here.”

And so, Sukuna watches your face as these same people that had called you their little sister take the case from his accountant.

You refuse to sit on his lap, something that he’ll allow for now. On the opposite side of the car, you can clearly see the woman who runs the establishment count the bills, each piece of paper thwip-thwipping in her hands, then stacking them together into thick towers.

One million yen.

Two.

Three.

Relentlessly, you slam your injured hand against the window.

Four.

“Mama-san!”

Five.

Six.

That is all you are worth.

“Mama-san..!” you screech, jamming the door handle that does not budge. “I’m here, mama-san! I’m right here! Please- help me! I’m right here please don’t leave me! Mama!”

It’s not until when the woman leaves with the case that you break into sobs, your head in your hands. He’s leaning against the window on his side, arm over the headrest, as he counts down, mentally, towards the inevitable.

You lunge at him.

“What do you want from me?!” you cry, face wet with tears and snot. “What the fuck do you want from me?! Who do you think you are?!”

His driver says nothing, and Sukuna only tilts his head when you grip his collar.

He wipes your cheek as he says, more to him than you, “You really don’t remember.”

You have resigned yourself to death. That much Sukuna knows.

You are a pet. Nothing more. That is the way of nature: you cannot even hope to outlive him, even if he willed it so. Weak, negligible little creature.

The reptile that's got a dagger to your throat is under the misconception that you are more than that. Your palanquin and guards lie on the ground. Its mask does not conceal the fact that it’s about to piss itself, its green scales distorting into a sallow shell as he approaches the wreck.

Sukuna’s army watches. The war ministers and envoys in the ships flying above him are waiting for his next move. He’s heard the whispers.

Domitor Ryomen Sukuna, He Who Brings to Heel, Noro-I no Oh, Emperor Du-o Dech-Im Nihil— has been conquered by a human slave.

How charming, he thinks with a smile.

He does not bother to address you. He knows how you look at him.

In the same breath as a white dwarf hurtles through the sky, Sukuna has ripped the hearts of both slave and assassin in his hands.

His army ululates.

“EH-NI AH DAH-YUS!” they roar.

The ships blare their horns, groaning like a deep-sea behemoth.

Sukuna decimates the Holy Seat of Desh-Ih in a matter of two rotations. It is a battle-hardened planet, and he loses a quarter of his soldiers by the end of the last siege. There is a sensation in his chest that makes him halt as he slices their general in half.

They had put up a good fight. For that, Sukuna would remember them. And— something else.

Something he cannot put a name to. It would be irritating if it were not so…peculiar.

It rains on his way back to his ship. The planet’s neighboring galaxy, Setus, is visible despite, bloodied vessels that set flames over the graveyard of severed and incinerated Desh-Ih warriors.

And in his lips is an old song— rushing like children playing tag near a stream.

Rush, rush, rivers, oceans, rush into a steam…

Where did he hear this? Sukuna does not remember. Perhaps from a dead, primordial planet.

Whish, whoosh, whish, whoosh, go and form daydreams…

“Pitter, patter,” he drones. “Pitter, patter, please fall back to me.”

Your fingers are wilted stems in his grasp, and your pulse is sluggish, off-beat.

He brings them to his lips, keeping them there, pinky brushing his chin. The metal armrests are cold against his elbows and the room smells like mint. There’s a knock that takes his focus away from you. He’ll shoot the next person that tells him he needs to rest, he decides.

But it is only the rain, hitting the window pane one at a time, then coming to a downpour. Sukuna blows air out through his nose, shutting his eyes as he takes your hand with both hands and props his forehead against them. He brushes the singed mark of your left palm.

“Rush, rush, rivers, oceans, rush into a steam,” he hums, not bothering with the words, the sound a low thunder from him. “Whish, whoosh, whish, whoosh, go and form daydreams.”

The rain does not stop. “Pitter, patter, pitter, patter, please fall back to me.”

He repeats the tune, whistling this time. It echoes through the hallway.

Sukuna lifts his head, the song refusing to die in his lips, and when he does, he finds you staring right back at him. The tune crashes like a ship.

Your eyes are open, and he does not recall them being this bright, like you’d just woken up from a long and hazy dream.

“Can you speak?” he drawls.

You can. He knows you can.

But you do not.

“Speak,” he repeats.

You take your fingers from his hand and brings them to his cheek, wiping it. He doesn’t let go— refuses to let go, feeling your pulse.

It peters out, slowly.

Acid perforates his muscles, spreading from the tips of his fingers to his chest, climbing up the veins and filling them with magma, burning him from the inside, until he's all spittle and heat—

“Speak—" His voices shakes the walls. "Speak, damn you!”

You keep your eyes open, as impenetrable as they’ve always been, and for a moment there, right before they close again, the corner of your mouth lifts— a smirk— like it’s you who’s sitting on this chair, and it is him that lies there on the bed, breathing his last.

Your laureled horse jumps atop his incense chariot. It is promptly removed from his side and kept in yours. Sukuna tempers the urge to fling the board across the mat. Uraume sits outside, waiting.

“I’m going to die soon,” he says unprovoked, legs crossed, before moving his gold general away.

You freeze, then you slide your silver general beside your foot soldier. “I see.”

“Not gonna cry?” he simpers.

“Not in front of you, my lord.”

His incense chariot lances for your silver general. Your gold general captures it.

Cherry blossoms peer through the shoji. It was you that had drawn them open earlier, as was your habit before setting the board. ‘Flushed and efflorescent,’ you’d whispered as their petals landed softly on the grass.

He raises all of his fingers. “Keep my soul here, die for a while, then—” He grins. “Live forever.”

You do not move, legs folded primly beneath you, staring at Sukuna.

“You’re a monster,” you utter.

That makes him laugh. He grabs your neck. A foot soldier stumbles off your fingers, and you swiftly place it back on the board. With it, you’ve captured his gold general.

Sukuna drags the blunt end of his nail over your throat, but stops when he remembers that the game isn’t over yet. He can do that after he’s finally won over you. He lets you go wheezing lightly.

“And yet you love me.” He pounces your foot soldier with his.

Your silver general infiltrates his territory, turning it to gold. “I do.”

“You’re a fool,” he scoffs.

“I know, my lord.”

Your tears fall on the board. Sukuna looks up, but you wipe them before he could see them on your face.

A fool. A weak, powerless, dispensable fool.

Like picking at a scab, “Why?” he asks.

“I hardly know, my lord.”

“You can be my mistress,” he says noncommittally. “I could use one more to warm my bed.”

He picks at the silver general in his midst, taking another foot soldier with him. He could force you down now. Sukuna had even thought about it in passing before. Although, with Sukuna having yet to win a single board against you, he had not seen the pleasure in it.

This is the only battle he has yet to win.

And the one that only you can.

“Then, if I do, would you cry for me, my lord? Afterwards, would you stay by my bed when I am weak?”

“You must have taken a blow to the head, fool,” he chuckles. “Proclaim me dead and lost if I’ve come to that disgrace.”

With your western region barren, he easily devours through generals, incense chariots, and a laureled horse. You meet him piece by piece, but he has, at last, cornered you at your most vulnerable. His jade general conquers your invading gold generals.

Victory is close and you say nothing more, apart from a song.

“Rush, rush, rivers oceans,” you hum like a wind chime, putting a foot soldier forward in your eastern region that he is now making a wasteland of. “Rush into a steam.”

He smirks. “A child’s curse.”

“Whish, whoosh,” you continue, nodding with a timid smile as you discard his laureled horse. “Whish, woosh, go and form daydreams.”

It is hardly a revelation to Sukuna that you hold these infantile beliefs. Brats— bunch of human waste, are wont to sing this tune, convinced that if they do, then time, like water, would return anew— different and yet the same, so that they can keep playing without having to hear their mothers’ reprimands.

Water to steam to clouds to rain. Then back again. Over and over, making a game of time.

“Pitter, patter, pitter, patter—” That foot soldier crosses the border. You turn it over and it transforms into a gold general. No matter. One more loss and it would be your only piece. “Please fall back to me.”

He makes quick work of the last laureled horse on your side. Your jade general sits, untouched, farther behind it.

“What’s this?” Sukuna holds out a hand to brush your cheek. “Are you cursing me so that we can keep playing?”

The suggestion cannot be lost on you. Sukuna makes sure of that. He drops his fingers to the bare skin above where your robe meets together.

You nod, humming again. “Yes, my lord.”

Your gold general moves forward to his eastern region.

“But, my lord, my curse is much simpler.”

Sukuna glances back to the board.

And there it is— that gold general, once a foot soldier, with a wordless sort of aplomb, capturing his jade general—

His king.

"Even for one last time," you tell him, levelling at Sukuna with your gaze. "My only wish is to see you lose.”

#ryomen sukuna x reader #yandere ryomen sukuna #yandere sukuna #yandere jjk #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw noncon #yandere

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sturnslutz · 28 days ago

Text

doomsday

tw: vomiting, mention of lacing, angst. def recommend listening to the song above on repeat while reading! the return of fratboy!chris and independent!reader 😇

it wasn't not normal for chris to distance himself from people. he didn't mean to, but sometimes everything just becomes too much.

sports, his schoolwork, you. it all became too much. he knew he didn't have feelings for you, of course not. but you distancing yourself from him after hookups changed something in him that he didn't know could be changed.

you heard from matt that chris wasn't doing too well, and you couldn't help but wonder just a bit. it wasn't like you were asking him if he was okay every second, but you texted him a couple times just checking in and all you got were a couple dry responses and sometimes just plain being left on read.

it didn't affect you too much though. why should it? you guys hooked up a couple times, that's it.

it was until it's been weeks since you heard from him that really affected you. the aching in between your legs caused you to go hookup with some old hookups, but chris lingered in your mind.

where had he gone?

matt had called you. "rosy, chris isn't okay. y'needa get to my place now."

that's all he had said before the line went flat. you quickly got ready, hopping into your car and driving to matt's building which was about 10 minutes away. you made your way upstairs, knocking on matt's door and it being opened with vey.

she had this look that made you uneasy. "what happened?" you quickly whispered to her as she took your hand and led you in. "he got laced."

your heart drops at the sight. chris and matt in the bathroom with chris hunched over the toilet, gagging heard throughout the dorm. matt was sitting next to him, noticing you got here and stood up and made his way next to you, leading you into the bathroom.

"chris? it's rosy." you sat down next to him, rubbing his back. he looked up, wiping his mouth. he had never looked like this. his eyebags were the worst you had ever seen, his face was pale, and he had clearly lost a ton of weight.

he had tears running down his face, and a tired look. he said nothing to you before closing the toilet lid, and flushing it, before standing up and washing his mouth out in the sink before walking past vey and matt and flopped down on matt's bed, all without a word.

you looked at matt with sadness in your eyes, but also a bit of confusion. matt and vey both walked into the bathroom, shutting it as you stood up and leaned against the sink. "what the fuck happened?" a voice no more than a whisper came out of your lips.

"he's been in a really bad place recently. he didn't tell me or nick why but he's been staying with a friend off campus these past couple days. and this guy is like a well known drug addict and he's the one who chris gets all his shit from. i guess chris smoked or took some stuff from him that had something in it, and he passed out in the guy's house. i tracked his phone because he wasn't calling me back or anything, got to the house, saw chris passed out on the ground in the living room. his guy was nowhere to be found, and i stayed with chris till he woke up, and took care of him until we drove back here."

matt explained everything and vey had gotten emotional at the thought of everything, her eyes welling up with tears as she sniffled, turning away from the both of you. you knew vey has had some experiences with lacing and drugs, all of that, from her family so the topic was sensitive to her.

matt rubbed her back and you stayed silent, just thinking. chris almost died. you knew chris obviously wasn't doing so good, but the thought of him passing out and just seeing how he looked made you distressed.

"when was this?" you asked softly as you looked up to matt's saddened face. "about 8 hours ago. he's been vomiting for the past 3. i'm thinking about taking him to the hospital if he doesn't stop. thankfully, the time periods in between his vomiting have gotten longer. i called nick and my parents already, and nick's on his way right now and my parents are heading over soon. i just hate knowing they're gonna see him like this."

your thoughts were quickly interrupted at the noise of someone banging on the dorm's door. matt opened the bathroom door, exiting it and opening the front to nick bursting in. "chris, oh my god." he said without another word as he walked over to chris who glanced up, sighing. "nick, i'm fine." his voice was almost nonexistent and came out raspy.

nick wrapped his arms around chris and sat down next to him. chris merely hugged him back, glancing over his shoulder, looking at you with distressed eyes. neither of you broke eye contact as tears welled up in your eyes. you hated crying in front of people.

you broke the eye contact as you coughed, looking up at the ceiling, blinking and trying to get rid of the blurry vision as you turned back into the bathroom. vey followed in after you, closing the door and rubbing your back as you covered your mouth, not being able to hold in the sobs anymore.

choked sobs and coughs bounced off the walls, and vey brought you into her arms, rubbing your back and hair, quietly reassuring you as you wrapped your arms around her, sobbing into her shoulder and neck. you were sure the triplets could hear you despite the meer piece of wood blocking you guys, but you didn't care.

you weren't one to cry for others but someone so close to you, chris more or less erupted more emotions from deep inside you that haven't been released in months.

you didn't know why you were crying like this over him. it's not like you guys were dating but the love in your heart, even if it's just a bit, overcame you.

after a couple minutes of vey whispering into your ear and rubbing your back, you had finally calmed down just a bit. "it's so fucking embarrassing i'm crying like this." you muttered into your hands as you broke your body away from vey's and sliding down the wall next to you, pulling your knees up to your chest.

she slipped down next to you, rubbing your knee. "it's not. at all. i need you to understand that what you're feeling is perfectly normal and it's a normal response to something as severe as this happening. hell, even i cried. and so did matt. he called me when he was lying next to chris, sobbing into the phone and praying that chris was going to wake up. we all understand how you're feeling, rosy. this isn't something small, this was serious. i'm happy you're allowing yourself to let these emotions out."

vey reassured you, making you feel a lot better. the thought of matt sobbing to her over the phone and praying for chris made your heart tighten with the ringing thought that chris had seriously almost died.

you took a couple moments to recollect yourself, before taking a deep breath. "it's gonna be so embarrassing when i walk out. the whole building probably just heard me crying." you laughed softly, and vey gave a sad smile, shrugging.

"probably. doesn't mean it was pointless though. c'mere." she stood up, taking your hand and bringing you up also. she ripped off a couple paper towels, wetting them and wiping your eyes and cheeks.

you had looked into the mirror, your face and eyes red and puffy, and dried mascara staining your cheeks before vey wiped it off. she rewet the towels before holding them against your eyes, instantly soothing your burning vision.

once she was finished, she tossed them into the trash. "you ready?" she softly asked, her hand hovering over the knob and you gave a slight nod. she opened it, matt waiting next to the door before his eyes flickered up, looking at the both of you. "you guys okay?" he softly asked the both of you as she nodded and you shrugged.

you looked over to the bed, seeing nick and chris in the same position, but now nick was rubbing chris's back as chris cried into his hands. your heart dropped again, he was crying because he heard you sob.

he looked up, his red puffy face similar to yours. "i- am so sorry. i don't know why i ghosted everyone, i don't know why i left, i don't know why i took anything that fucking bitch gave me. you were the only thing in my mind when i was doing everything, and i just couldn't control anything i did. i was stressed out over fucking everything. rosy, and everyone, im so sorry." while he was talking, he stood up and got close to you, cupping your cheeks, looking down at you.

in other instances, this would've been so embarrassing for the both of you, this action being very unrecognizable for the both of you, but right now, no one cared. all everyone cared about was, chris's wellbeing.

some time had passed, and you and vey had left. the triplets' parents had come and the both of you decided to give the family some space. matt had insisted you to stay to meet them, but you declined almost immediately. it's not like you didn't want to, but it was a big step for you.

that night, nick and matt had made a groupchat with you and vey and had told you guys that their parents insisted on bringing chris to the hospital. they told you he vomited again, and passed out due to dehydration. he woke up and they're probably staying the night in the hospital to make sure chris's vitals were stable, and for now they were.

vey had decided to come over and take your mind off of everything. you had thought about smoking, but decided not to because of everything today. so, you both resorted to making slime, skincare, eating, and watching movies.

it felt like a weight off your shoulders knowing chris was okay.

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer comment to be added or removed.

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queenk00k · 3 months ago

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cupid's lead arrows // rafe cameron

Requested by anon

Request: Hi girl I love your writing 🫶🏻 Can you write about Rafe, who has been Reader’s best friend forever, but secretly has a crush on her? One day, Reader confesses that she’s dating someone, and Rafe does everything he can to break them up.

Summary: You finally get a boyfriend but something, or someone, seems intent on keeping you apart.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: This is literally all angst sorry

Note: My first Outer Banks fic in over 4 years lol please be kind! I got a little carried away...this lends itself to a part 2, if anyone likes it.

It’s not always a walk in the park when you’re Rafe Cameron’s best friend.

You’ve been inseparable since the first day of high school when you got paired together for a semester long project. Study sessions in the library (well, you would study, and Rafe would flirt with the cute library monitor) turned into after school hangouts at Tannyhill, which turned into hosting parties and heading to college together.

Did you ever have a crush on your best friend? Well fuck, have you seen him?

Not only is he gorgeous but you got to experience a whole different side of Rafe that not everyone got to see, the sweet side – loyal, caring, and pretty soft behind the scenes.

You spent years pining after Rafe, silently and stoically of course, never wanting to ruin your friendship by letting him know how you felt. You figured it was for the best and besides, you had lived through enough of Rafe’s girlfriends to know you weren’t ever going to be his type.

You’ve seen each other’s highest highs and lowest lows which, unfortunately for you both, Rafe seemed to have more than his fair share of. Much to the disappointment of your parents and the shock of your friends, you stuck by Rafe’s side through his drug addiction and his drinking problems and were there to pick up the pieces after his father died. Rafe, in turn, had your back when you had blow up fights with your mother and comforted you when you had problems with your friends.

Now, two years out of college and with Rafe mostly sober, you didn’t think there was anything you two couldn’t handle, nothing you couldn’t face together, nothing that could ever come between you.

Until you started dating Parker.

Rafe seemed happy for you when you first told him, hugging you and telling you he was proud of you for “finally getting some.” He was nice to Parker (by Rafe’s standards, which really meant not going out of his way to intimidate the guy) when you brought him to the beach and introduced them.

But as the weeks went by, you noticed a subtle shift in Rafe’s behaviour. You kept telling yourself you were being paranoid, that there’s no way Rafe could have an issue with Parker. He told you he was happy for you, right? And unlike the last potential boyfriends, Rafe didn’t try to scare him off.

But something was off.

You noticed Rafe was falling back into old habits that scared you. He was drinking more, often double parked at parties, and either loud and belligerent or sulking on his own in a corner.

And then then the incidents began. At first you just thought it was shit luck, but then it just started to feel like the universe was conspiring against you and Parker.

Turns out Rafe was conspiring against you and Parker.

It started when Parker seemingly ghosted you on one of your Friday night dates, leaving you alone and upset at the wharf before Rafe picked you up. Parker swore he had car issues, both his front tires punctured, and you figured that was a reasonable excuse.

Then the night of the annual bonfire, a harmless game of ‘never have I ever’ turned sour when Rafe and Topper kept coming up with the most oddly specific scenarios. Each of them left Parker putting down his fingers, looking sheepishly over at you as your cheeks turned red from embarrassment before you got up and left the circle, Rafe raising a beer bottle to his lips as he watched you intently. He followed after you that night and you melted into his arms, naïvely assuming your best friend was comforting you without an ulterior motive.

And now the worst of all – Topper had cornered you as you were leaving the driving range to ask if you knew Parker was spending time with his ex, and you finally snapped.

“Where did you hear this, Topper? Who told you?”

And because Topper was, above all, really just spineless, you got the answer out of him straight away.

Rafe. At the scene of the crime, three times in a row. What a fucking coincidence.

So, you decided you’d had enough of this bullshit, of Rafe playing games with your relationship, and you drove over to his house, marched up to his front door and banged on it with your fist until he finally opened up.

“Y/N!” he said, looking genuinely excited to see you. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to lose your shit just yet, not to get angry until you actually knew the truth.

“Do you like Parker? Do you want me to be with him?”

Rafe blinked at you, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What? I don’t-”

“Tell me the truth,” you cut in. “I want to hear you say it.”

Rafe stepped over the threshold and gently closed the door behind him, clearing his throat before he answered.

“No. I don’t, and I want you to break up with him,” he said, folding his arms.

You huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Right, well, that’s not going to happen. Thanks a lot,” you say, willing yourself not to cry as you turn around and walk away from your best friend.

“Y/N, please come back. I have my reasons!” Rafe raises his voice as he calls out to you.

“Why do you care so much? Is this some fake chivalrous ‘if I can’t have you, no one can’ bullshit? Just leave me alone, Rafe.” You say as you clamber down the front steps and start walking to your car.

“Because I love you, alright?!” Rafe shouts after you.

You stop, the righteous anger you were feeling only moments before threatening to dissipate into the humid night air. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply before turning around to face your best friend.

Rafe’s breathing heavily, running his hand over his head as if to erase what he just said.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his ring glinting in the moonlight as he chews on his thumb, looking pleadingly at you, willing you to say something, anything. The silence between you feels heavy as your mind races. He’s said it before of course, but it’s usually in jest, or after you help him with something. This feels different, and you know better than to assume it’s not.

“Rafe,” you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. “What are you doing?” You watch him warily as he takes a hesitant step towards you.

“I love you. I’m serious. More than best friends, more than anything we’ve been in the past. I love you and I…I can’t stand to see you with someone else. I can’t let it happen.”

“You have no right-”

“He’s not a good guy, y/n!” Rafe raises his voice again, making you flinch slightly. You scoff at his words, throwing him an incredulous glare.

“Like you can talk, Rafe. I know you – more than anyone else. You’re not exactly in a position to be telling me who’s good for me or not,” you snap.

Rafe huffs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Yeah, you got me. I’m not perfect, fine, but I know you and I know you shouldn’t be with Parker. That’s why I-” Rafe stops abruptly, his mouth twisting.

You step closer to him, closing the gap between you. “That’s why you what, Rafe?” Your heart pounds and you’re sure you’re about to have your suspicions confirmed. When Rafe stands there, dumbstruck and silent, you answer for him.

“You’re the one who started that rumour about Parker and his ex, aren’t you?”

Rafe’s silence tells you everything you need to know. You shake your head, not quite believing that your best friend would try and sabotage your relationship like this.

“And the bonfire? That was on purpose, wasn’t it? You got some dirt on Parker and wanted me to know about it.”

Rafe winced. “Well, Topper helped with that one. But seriously, this is all for your own good. I’m trying to protect you!”

You hold your hand up. “Stop. Just stop. How could you do this? Why would you try and break us up like this, just because you’re jealous? Why can’t you just let me be happy? Not to mention, you’ve been hurting me, Rafe! You’re not just hurting Parker; you’re destroying me in the process.”

You’re crying now, feeling betrayed. You had barely noticed but it had started to rain, the droplets mixing with your tears to run mascara down your cheeks. Rafe has the audacity to look concerned and regretful, to move as if to hug you and you shake his arm off before jabbing your index finger into his chest.

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Rafe. You had your chance! For years! Just because you’ve finally fucking woken up doesn’t mean you get to ruin my happiness. And now this bullshit about Parker’s family? That’s low, even for you,” you spit, the brief warmth you felt when Rafe told you he loved you now completely cold.

Rafe shook his head. “No, no, you don’t get it! That’s all true! They’re shady fucking people and God, that’s coming from a Cameron. You can’t get caught up in their mess,” he pleads.

“You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to believe you now! Why should I?” you yell before spinning on your heel and stalking down the driveway to your car, being careful to not slip on the pavement.

“Y/N, wait!” Rafe calls and he catches up to you in two long strides, grabbing your wrist with his large hand. His white button-down shirt was almost transparent now and the rain was running in rivers off his nose as he looked down at you.

“Please,” he begs. “Come inside. Let me explain. I love you, y/n, please,” Rafe looks desperate, and you almost pity him before you snap back to reality and remember why you’re so angry.

“I’m going to my boyfriend’s house,” you snarl, tugging your wrist out of his grip. “And if you follow me Rafe, I swear to God, I will never speak to you again.”

With that, you yank open your car door and put the keys in the ignition with shaking hands.

“FUCK!”

As you pull away, you can hear Rafe yelling your name.

You don’t even look in the rearview mirror as you turn out of his street, tires squealing.

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