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worldlxvlys · 3 days

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speed

chris sturniolo x singer! reader

warnings: smuttt, fingering, oral (male receiving), no actual p in v

a/n: this is for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writing challenge !! hope you enjoy <33

la da da da

da da da

the crowd went crazy after hearing only the first few chords of the unreleased song that i’d been teasing for weeks.

considering the fact that they’d never heard the full song, i found it funny how many people genuinely loved the song.

if i told you how much i think about her

you’d think i was in love

i looked out to the sea of people in front of me, growing slightly nervous at the thought of every single one of their attention being on me.

i had definitely performed before, but never in front of a crowd of people this large.

and if you knew how much i looked at her pictures

you would think we’re best friends

my nerves eased a little when i actually looked at the crowd. my eyes bounced from person to person, seeing bright smiles, tears of happiness, and people singing along.

deciding to pretend as though i wasn’t singing in front of an insane amount of people, i let myself enjoy the song.

as the words flew past my mouth and into the microphone, i thought about how excited chris was when i first played the song for him.

right before i got to the chorus, i looked over to the VIP section, immediately catching his gaze.

CHRIS’S POV

when i caught her gaze, there seemed to be a glint of something in her eyes, but i couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

although her face held a sweet smile, i could tell she was about to do something that would have me struggling to contain myself.

i’m starin’ at her like i wanna get hurt

and i remember every detail you have ever told me

so be careful, baby

she began to jump around on stage, her energy and happiness becoming contagious as everyone around her seemed to bask in it.

any nerves that she may have had at the beginning of the song easily washed away as she sang.

i’m so obsessed with your ex

yeah, i’m so obsessed with your ex

her hair bounced on her shoulders as she moved her head to the beat. she looked majestic, the stage lights giving her body a soft glow.

she’s got those lips, she’s got those hips

the life of every fucking party

it was almost as those she was singing about herself, her hands running up and down her body, my eyes following them.

the confidence she had was evident in her stage presence, making her seem all the more attractive.

she laid on the ground on her side, running her hands down her body while she danced seductively on the floor.

there was something so enticing about it, she made such a simple action look so alluring.

she made her way through the song, the adrenaline seeming to course through her as she bounced around on the stage.

she showed the love and passion that she had for music through a wide smile, her eyes shut as she soaked every moment in.

the further she got into her set, the hornier i got. i tried to stop myself, but my mind was consumed with the things i could do to her in her dressing room. i just needed ten minutes.

her tight skirt inched up her legs slightly with every jump, causing the curve of her ass cheek to peak out.

her low-cut top gave the perfect view her cleavage, the pendant of her gold necklace hanging just above where her tits met.

at this point, i was so hard that i was genuinely in pain. luckily for me, all eyes were on y/n, i didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing my raging hard-on.

“hi everyone!” i heard her speak into the mic, making my head whip up to her direction.

“i hope you guys are enjoying the show so far!” she was met with a roar of applause in response, causing her to let out a light chuckle.

“we’re going to take a brief, ten minute intermission, so go to the bar and grab a drink or snack, and we’ll be back soon!” she spoke, giving a light wave before walking off of the stage.

looks like i got my ten minutes.

“going to the bathroom!” i yelled out to nick and matt, bringing a hand down to cover my crotch as i sped walked to the backstage area.

i flashed the security guard my backstage pass before rushing to y/n’s dressing room.

i knocked on the door loudly, waiting to hear her answer before opening the door.

“oh, chris!” she spoke as i closed and locked the door behind me.

she rushed over to me, a bright smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“i’m so fucking proud of you, baby. you’re so good out there” i spoke into her neck, pressing slow kisses to her neck.

she tilted her head to the side, letting out a small sigh as her fingers slid up to my hair to pull on the brown strands.

“such a good girl for me” i sighed into her neck, “you deserve all of the love” i spoke against her skin.

i moved my head to her chest, leaving kisses to the exposed skin.

her hand quickly found my crotch, beginning to palm me through my pants. “want some help with that?” she asked me.

“i- yes, please” i spoke, my breathing picking up as she sunk onto her knees in front of me.

she pulled my pants and boxers down with one tug, wrapping her hands around my thighs as she licked up the small bit of pre-cum that leaked out of my tip.

she swirled her tongue around it before taking me into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks.

“fuck” i moaned, my hand finding its way to the back of her head.

i attempted to control myself, refraining from moving my hips.

she momentarily pulled her mouth off of me to say, “c’mon baby, fuck my mouth” before moving to take me fully into her mouth again.

i did as she said, beginning to buck my hips into her mouth, holding her head steady.

she glanced up at me through her lashes, eyes filling with unshed tears as i pushed myself in and out of her warm mouth.

i stared down at her tits, watching as they bounced harshly from the force of my hips against her body.

when she caught my gaze, she pulled the straps to her top down to expose her boobs to me.

“oh my god, yes. feels so good” i groaned out when her nose hit my pubic bone, her head shaking side to side.

there was a sudden knock on the door behind me, catching me by surprise as she continued to suck me off.

“5 minutes until you’re on!” a voice said, leaving as quickly as it came.

i watched as her hand disappeared under her skirt, causing her to begin to moan around me.

i could hear the wet sounds of her fingers inside of her pussy, my head flying back at the thoughts running through my head.

i twitched inside of her mouth, causing her to pull away from me. her mouth remained connected to me by a long string of spit while she began to twist her hand around my length.

“ come on chris, you gonna cum for me? all over my tits?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

i was only able to nod my head as my eyes rolled back, thick ropes of my cum flying onto her chest.

she stood up onto her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she grinned at me.

without another word, i turned us around so that her back was facing the door.

i hooked a hand under one of her knees, lifting it up with one hand, the other finding its way under her dress.

“let me return the favor” i spoke as i moved her panties to the side and pushed two fingers into her entrance.

“fuck, chris” she squeaked as her mouth hung open, her head falling back into the door.

her tight walls squeezed around my fingers, clamping down onto them.

there was a pounding on the door behind her, making her let out a yelp in surprise.

i covered her mouth with my hand, while she moaned into it, gripping my forearm harshly.

“2 minutes !” the voice yelled through the door.

she pushed her hips down to meet my movements, desperately chasing her orgasm.

i circled my thumb around her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered under my touch.

her head fell forward onto my shoulder, while her fingers threaded through my hair. she tugged on it harshly, eliciting a deep groan from me.

“you close baby?” i asked as she began to clench around my fingers again.

“yes, please let me cum. i’m so close, chris” she moaned out as her face scrunched up in pleasure.

“let go, princess. make a mess on my fingers”

she looked so pretty like this, her messy makeup running down her blissed-out face.

her legs began to shake, hips jerking up involuntarily and her back arching off of the door.

she let out one last cry of my name before letting go, coating my fingers in her pleasure.

“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, wiping away the smudged makeup on her cheeks.

i helped her fix herself up, before doing the same for myself.

once we deemed ourselves presentable, i opened the door. i was met with a member of the stage crew, who seemed to be preparing to knock on the door.

he gave us a knowing look before speaking, “you two couldn’t have waited until after the show?”

the two of us glanced at each other, giving the man blank stares.

“you” he pointed to y/n, “need to go get your makeup touched up” he spoke, waving over her makeup artist.

“and you” he pointed to me, “need to go back to your seat. stay away from her until after the show, got it?” he asked as he placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me towards the direction i originally came from.

when i tuned back to look at y/n she was already getting whisked away by her makeup artist.

i made my way back to my seat, meeting my brothers’ gaze. “so, you enjoy your bathroom break?” nick asked, brows raised.

“yeah, it was fine” i spoke, keeping my eyes forward to avoid his gaze.

“really? cause you just came from the opposite direction of the bathroom” matt pointed out.

before i could say anything in response, the crowd broke into a round of loud applause.

i watched y/n walk on stage, lightly smirking at the way her legs lightly shook with each step.

“so subtlety just isn’t your thing, huh?” nick asked.

“never was going for subtlety, just speed”

collide (matt version)

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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oharaslover · 2 days

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i bet on losing dogs

part two of congratulations series masterlist

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: more angst (to nobody’s surprise), clothed grinding, and masturbation (f)

synopsis: after going through a toxic cycle with his ex girlfriend, miguel learns that maybe he does deserve some type of love in his life.

author’s note: hi guys 😋 (with the intention you don’t hate me after this part)

word count: 6.4k

I always want you when I'm finally fine

Miguel had you placed in his lap, his lips ghosting on your neck in only a way that he was familiar with. His fingers gripped on your hips, moving you against his clothed crotch. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. The touch of him was consuming you completely, but the fact was that you wanted nothing more but to be completely absorbed by him.

You were fueled by the desperation of almost losing him, your body practically melting as his hands travelled over your body. It felt like he was exploring you for the first time, his fingers ghosting across every expanse and curve of your body. "You were always so beautiful," the sudden whisper by your ear had goosebumps forming all over your arms. He had a smile plastered on his face, the type of smile that allowed you to see the slight imperfection in his teeth. The one that you loved so much.

"I missed you," you didn't recognize your own voice, you were breathless. So affected by so little. "Yeah, what'd you miss about me?" his tone carried a teasing tone, his lips on your collarbone to leave a couple marks on there. Marks that conveyed that you still, undoubtedly, were his. You placed your hands on his shoulders, using that as leverage as you rubbed your aching cunt onto his thigh. "I missed everything about you. Your besitos, your back rubs, and the way you fuck me," you managed to get out, finding it difficult to form any actual sentences now.

"That's it, use me however you need to," he whispered against your skin, his tongue licking a stripe down your neck. The contact had you shivering, your cunt brushing up against the tent in his pants. Your hips swiveled as you moved against him, the friction stimulating your clit. "You're gonna cum from just my lap, hermosa? ¿Me extrañastes tanto?" his voice took on a taunting tone as he saw you squirm in his lap, getting close to your orgasm. All you could do was nod to his question, biting your lip to stifle any moans that were threatening to come out.

(you missed me that much?)

"You know I'll always wait for you, right?"

Now that part had gotten too unrealistic for your own sake. You opened your eyes, a discarded pizza box in the middle of your hotel bed and a vintage science fiction movie from the 20's playing on the television. If only you could've convinced yourself to stay in that dream for just a little bit longer. At least so you wouldn't have to deal with the insistent throbbing in between your legs.

Strings of slick connected your cunt to your panties when you slid them down, your walls clenching around thin air for some kind of friction. Maybe a cold shower would help? You weren't exactly responsible for your water consumption if it ended taking too long. You stripped off your pajamas, getting in the shower and closing the glass door behind you.

Your hand ghosted down to your vagina, your fingers running against your folds before you stuck one inside. Damn it. Despite the fact that you knew what made your body tick, you just couldn't find relief. Not when the dream was in the forefront of your mind. Not when you could practically feel his touch on your skin, leaving you all too desperate as you tried to imagine that your hands were his instead. You brought up your free hand to your hardened nipple, pinching it between your pointer and middle finger.

It was almost comical the way that your fingers left you feeling much more empty than when you started this whole ordeal. Another reminder that Miguel wasn't here. You shortly established a rhythm, pushing your fingers in and out on your cunt to get off. Your bottom lip was captured in between your teeth as you resisted the urge to moan, like people hadn't done more obscene things in these hotels. The cold water hit your clit, the swollen nub throbbing for some kind of stimulation as you worked yourself open.

You applied some pressure to your neglected clit, ranging from rubbing it in small circles to pinching it in between your fingers. Anything that would make this end. You chased the all too familiar feeling, the coil inside you tightening up before snapping in half. Your slick coated your fingers as you came, the cold water a stark contrast to how ignited your body felt right now. As much as you tried to convince yourself on the walk over to this hotel that you needed to get over him, you didn't know how you would even begin to start with that process.

You hated feeling this way, unable to get over Miguel. But in a way, how could you when everything just felt so unfinished between the two of you? Even before you left for California, the time between the two of you had been too short.

You leaned your body against the cold shower tiles, closing your eyes as the after effects of your orgasm washed out. Despite the fact that the throbbing between your legs was gone, you couldn't ignore the way your heart clenched at just the memory of tonight. 'Fiancée' kept running through your mind, how the man who seemingly had no intention of settling down was now about to become somebody's husband. Maybe you should've just gone back to sleep.

You truly hated Miguel O'Hara.

You hated his stupid crooked teeth. The way that his cheeks curved up when he was actually amused by something. His stupid geneticist jokes. The way that he seemed to know your body better than yourself, working you like an instrument with every single encounter. How his eyes only seemed to be reserved for you in every event, like you were the only one worthy of being looked at by him.

But most of all, you hated the way that your stupid, bleeding broken heart only seemed to beat for him.

"You could've told her the truth instead of letting her mope around the place like a kicked puppy," Tempest told Miguel as the two of them stepped into their shared apartment. He didn't need much more specification on who she was talking about, not when most of his attention had been on you for most of the night. The way that your emotions were so clear to see despite the smile that you forced on your face. How he wanted to kiss that little frown off your face.

Tell you that's it's always just been you.

He undid the buttons of his shirt, sitting down on the couch to take off his shoes. "Her and I were never anything serious, I don't have any reason to explain things to her," was the same excuse that he gave himself over and over to justify why he kept this a secret for so long. Tempest let out a scoff, but she didn't add much more to that as she slid her heels off. He itched to go and help her, but he knew he'd probably get a heel thrown at his head if he did.

Tempest went over to her own bedroom, making a beeline to switch out of the clothes that she'd chosen for the night before going back over to the living room. "Take it from the dying person. There's nothing selfish about wanting your own happiness," she told him, walking past his bedroom to head into the living room once more. Now there was food for thought. Prioritizing his own happiness instead of trying to fix the things around him. A thought that he didn't want to entertain right now.

He headed out of his room after changing out of his clothes, rubbing his eyes as he headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. "You would've been a decent poet," he steers the conversation into safe territory, conversation that didn't involve how he was feeling. "Not really. I was gonna pursue something in sports, maybe in sports medicine," she responded, walking over to the kitchen where he was standing. Tempest was fairly decent at discerning when he wanted to drop a subject, so she decided on doing just that.

"Goodnight, Miguel," Tempest spoke up after a while, her body exhausted from the events of the day. She'd skipped out on her daily nap to go to the party with him, her body facing the consequences now. Not that she'd ever voice any concern though, not when she was getting free food and a free place to stay. As well as access to low cost healthcare.

"Good night. Let me know if you need anything," Miguel told her, passing her a bottle of water so she'd be able to take her night pills. Tempest looked over at her pill box reluctantly, taking out the small capsules before gulping them down. No matter how many times she swallowed the pills, the process of keeping them down never got any easier. Tempest gave him a small thumbs up, heading over to her bedroom and closing the door behind her. Not that he'd miss any movement that she made with the thin wall separating them anyways.

Miguel laid down in bed with one hand behind his head, his gaze directed at the ceiling like it would reveal some kind of magical answer to him. He had no actual responsibility to stay loyal to you, yet he knew that if the roles would've been reversed that he would've lost his shit. That he would've gotten down on his knees and begged you to reconsider, reconsider the happy moments that the two of you had together. Albeit, most of them short and temporary but still sweet.

He was doing this to help out Tempest. Yet, she showed more interest in having him be with you than he did. She probably felt guilty for being stuck in such a predicament with him, the thought backed up by the one time she'd asked him what he got out of this. He wasn't completely sure what he got out of this arrangement, really, but he knew was that some part of him felt inclined to.

One of the things that he did know was that he needed to see this through after what he’d promised her.

"Ay mierda," he muttered to himself, trying to shake the remaining salt out of the container. A couple specks fell onto the chicken he was cooking, barely enough to cover a millimeter of it. He turned down the heat on the stove, going over to his cupboard to rummage for some extra salt. He had everything in there, an assortment of oregano, paprika, cumin and yet, no extra containers of salt. He looked over at the electronic clock on his wall, trying to discern if he had enough time to go to the grocery store before realizing he had work in an hour.

The idea of potentially bothering his neighbor was almost enough to get him to turn around but he decided to stick it out. What was the worst that could happen, anyways? That they turned out to be a serial killer and his knock on the door was the last thing that they needed to snap? Fat chance. "Just ask for some salt. It can't be that bad, right?" he muttered to himself, looking over at the door as he brought his hand to knock. He swallowed back some of his nervousness, forcing himself to bring his hand over to the wood.

Miguel knocked on his neighbor's door, tapping his foot as he waited for an answer. Sounds of scuffling could be heard inside but the door remained closed. He knocked once more, hoping that this one would warrant some type of answer. "It's not a marketer or something, just your neighbor! I just need some salt!" he called out, realizing afterwards that he probably looked like a maniac shouting in front of a door. The thought of someone passing by and seeing him like this immediately made him press his lips together and wait in silence.

Miguel accepted defeat after waiting for an answer for a couple more seconds, heading back to his apartment. He didn't have enough time to rush out to get more salt without risking being late for work, deciding instead to just go ahead and make himself a microwave dinner. "Wait, sorry," he heard behind him, turning around to see his neighbor poking her head out through the door. Well, at least she didn't look like a serial killer. Still, he wouldn't let his guard down just yet.

"I have a bit of extra salt. You can come inside while I go get it," his neighbor continued, opening the door a bit wider just to let him in. The space was much more different to his own, much more full of ambiance and personality. While he used his apartment as just a place to sleep in whenever he came back home from Alchemax, he could tell that his neighbor had spent the time in making sure that this apartment was well loved.

His eyes darted down to the multiple bills scattered around in her kitchen table, his curiosity getting the better of him. Cancer treatment bills. None of them which lowered from the thousands. Tempest came back with the container of salt in hand, rushing to scoop up the papers before he saw too much. A couple of them flailed past her grip, slowly swaying from side to side before falling on the floor. Not that it helped, he already got the basic idea. Most of those were past their due date.

"Your insurance doesn't cover for some of it?" He knew he should've kept his mouth shut by the way Tempest immediately shot him a glare, but he just couldn't help himself. A part of him couldn't help but worry about the type of cancer treatment she was receiving, if any at all. Tempest let out a small huff, her arms folded across her chest. She was trying to put on a tough persona, but Miguel was able to look past that.

"I don't have insurance after I had to quit my job. I'm not exactly eligible for any services either so it's been purely out of pocket. Hence the whole bills on the table thing," Tempest finally spoke after she realized that her glare wasn't affecting Miguel the way she intended.

"Well.. my work offers insurance to those couples who live together and married couples. The guarantee for it working when you're married is much higher," he spoke up after a while, leaning behind one of her kitchen seats. To think he came over for a bit of salt and now he was making a whole wedding proposal. "Should've left you outside to get your own salt," Tempest muttered, almost laughing at how insane the situation sounded. Getting married just to get the treatment she desperately needed.

"You know, people technically get married out of love. Out of convenience, maybe. But just for insurance purposes?" Tempest brought up the topic, her arms folded as her gaze scrutinized him. As hard as she tried, she couldn't figure out why he was doing this. For a stranger, of all things. A part of her felt that this wasn't just from the kindness of his heart.

"You're acting like that isn't a marriage of convenience."

"Nobody's gonna believe that we suddenly just want to get married."

"Nobody else matters."

Tempest continued to throw out a couple of excuses to try to scare away Miguel from the prospect, getting met with rather simple solutions to her concerns. Damn it, as much as she hated to admit it, he was pretty decent at convincing her of this idea.

While you were in the shower last night, you'd gotten a message from Gabriel asking if you wanted to come over to his place. To which you agreed to eagerly. You were planning on watching romance movies for the day while shitting on them for the unrealistic expectations they set, maybe ordering a bottle of wine and pizza if you were feeling up to it.

"You couldn't have told me that you were planning on staying in Nueva York from now on?" his voice called out from the kitchen, Romeo Santos' 'Imitadora' playing in the background. He lowered the volume on his speaker when he listened to your footsteps approach, setting down the knife he had in hand. He was in a much better state than you'd expected, you were expecting to find him in a bathrobe with sunglasses on after the copious amounts of tequila he'd had last night.

"And you couldn't have told me Miguel was engaged? I almost made a fool out of myself," you countered, leaning against the counter as the different spices filled your nose. A mixture of adobo and garlic sizzling on a piece of meat he had on the stove. "You always make a fool out of yourself, though. Remember that one time you fell at the pool during my 21st birthday?" he retorted, leaning against the kitchen counter with an amused smirk on his face.

How could you not. You'd gotten more drunk than Gabriel that night, mixing up all different types of alcohol in an adventurous pursuit. You'd drunkenly called Miguel to pick you up after the night was over, stumbling over your feet when you walked over to his car. The two of you drove around most of Nueva York, though all the buildings blurred together in your inebriated state. One of the best memories that you had despite the throbbing headache that followed the next day.

The two of you ended up at a greasy burger spot on the skirts of town, though that burger had tasted like a slice of heaven the minute that it touched your tongue. You didn't remember that much about the event itself, but you could remember the overwhelming amount of safety that you felt with him. How comfortable he made you feel in his presence. How he entertained every single of your stupid remarks without much resistance, even adding onto it at times.

He'd taken off your heels and changed your clothes into something more comfortable, showing no reluctance to do so. "Shh, it's okay sweet girl. You just drank too much," he whispered in your ear, his hand rubbing small circles as you were leaned over the toilet throwing up. "I'm never touching another glass of tequila again," you groaned, a lie to both yourself and Miguel. He continued to rub your back throughout the ordeal, staying by your side through it all. "Yeah, I'm sure you won't," he remarked, handing you a napkin once you were done.

Every memory that you had in Nueva York was tainted in some way by Miguel O'Hara.

"I didn't think the two of you had anything serious going on anymore, I'm sorry. I would've said something otherwise," Gabriel finally said, adding in the tomato that he'd cut along with the onion slices. Fair point. You didn't really have a reason to expect anything, not when you and Miguel were just sleeping around with no semblance of commitment. "Nah, it's fine. I shouldn't have expected that he'd just be here waiting for me," you responded, glancing over at the stove as he cooked.

You looked down at your phone, a notification ping bringing your attention to it. You weren't expecting to see a message from Miguel, surprised at the fact that he still even had your number. Your eyebrows practically shot up to your forehead upon reading the contents of the message, an invitation to his engagement party with Tempest. You debated on not going but you looked over at Gabriel and asked,

"Hey, how do you feel about going to Miguel's engagement party as my plus one?"

Tell your baby that I'm your baby

You weren't sure who was the bigger idiot in this situation. Miguel for inviting you to his engagement party or you for actually accepting it. As much as you were willing yourself to be mature throughout this situation, you didn't have this much maturity in you. His apartment was adorned in a mix of gold and yellow, a couple streamers hanging off the walls and a couple balloons bouncing around. "Maybe we should go. Get some food at the bodega," you suggested, looking over at Gabriel.

"No way, you dragged me out here now we're gonna stick it out," Gabriel's words came out muffled as he stuck a hors-d'oeuvre into his mouth that a butler was passing around. Miguel had really gone out for his engagement party. "I'll get you food from another place?" you tried another approach, hoping that maybe he would ease up this way. He pointed with his mouth over to the wide array of plates set up at a table, the good looking much more inviting than any bodega you had in mind. You really didn't have any proper reason to leave.

Gabriel left your side upon getting approached by a couple of family members, some third/fourth cousins that had been dying to see him again. You looked out from a distance to see him dancing around with them, anything that would be a nice distraction from looking around for Miguel. Your eyes always managed to find him in whatever room you were in. Not that it was too hard of a task, though. You stepped outside to catch some air, to convince yourself that you could last at least another hour at this event.

You didn't fit either of their lives anymore. As much as you desperately wished you did. The thought had come to you while you were in the balcony, looking out at the night sky. Everyone had someone else to converse with, someway of knowing each other. The thought stung more than you could've imagined, that you were still stuck on memories and a fling from the past while Miguel had been perfectly capable of moving on. The champagne that you had in your hand went down easier than the realization of the bitter truth.

"Hey," you didn't need to look behind you to recognize who'd just stood next to you, the scent of his cologne practically gave it away before he even got the chance to approach. "Hey," you returned the greeting, keeping your attention out on the night sky. "Is the party not up to your liking? You don't have to be outside, y'know," he told you, stepping just an inch closer to you. A scoff escaped from your lips before you got the chance to stop it, an incredulous look on your face when you turned to face Miguel.

"Are you seriously asking me that? You invited me to this engagement party knowing damn well about our previous history together. You didn't even bother to tell me you were engaged. If we weren't dating, then we were at the least friends."

"I wasn't sure how you were going to react to it. You and I didn't exactly have anything all that serious," Miguel realized it was the wrong thing to say upon seeing your expression, the way your face scrunched up in disbelief. The excuse had worked pretty well to get Tempest to leave it alone, so he figured that it would've worked on you too. Never had he regretted saying something so fast.

"Seriously? You think that I hooked up with you throughout these years just because you were a decent lay?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think? It's not like we did a lot of talking when you came over those past couple times."

"It was because I loved you, you idiot! If it was just about the sex aspect, I would've hooked up with someone back in California!"

"I was gonna tell you at the party that I intended to stay in Nueva York this time around. So I guess we'll be seeing more of each other," the words ran through Miguel like a cold bucket of water, the meaning of your words not at all lost to him. You had wanted to try again. Miguel wanted to pull you back into his arms, tell you that you were the one he envisioned having a future with. But... he didn't. He let you run off, looking at the back of your head before you eventually disappeared.

He stood at the balcony, letting himself ponder about a different alternative to this one. One where Tempest wasn't sick and didn't require his help. One where you'd never left for California, where you stayed by his side. Where the two of you would clean dishes, a cumbia playing in the background as the two of you basked in each other's presence. Where that would just be enough. Where this engagement party was for the both of you, an engagement ring on your finger. A thought that he entertained more and more often.

"Oyé, Tempest doesn't look too good," Gabriel's voice took him out of the fantasy he was in, immediately turning around and scanning inside of the apartment to see if he could find her. She looked winded, despite the fact he knew that she hadn't done much dancing tonight. "Alright, thanks," he cleared his throat, opening the glass door leading back to his apartment before going over to her. "Try to stand up for me, can you do that?" he spoke just low enough for her to hear, putting one hand on her arm.

She'd been sick for a couple weeks now, he knew that much. But he'd never seen her get this bad. The thought was enough to scare him into shooing all the guests away, rushing Tempest to the nearest hospital that he could find. "Come on, stay with me," his voice wavered, seeing the way that Tempest struggled to stay awake. Damn it, he'd never forgive himself for not taking her earlier to the hospital if she didn't get better. He put her favorite song on the radio to see if that made a difference. It didn't.

He rushed with her into the emergency room, beckoning for a nurse to come over after getting Tempest seated down on a wheelchair. She was still conscious, but she was unresponsive to everything going on around her. Her breathing sounded strangled, like the action itself was causing her pain. He found himself with his head buried between her hands, praying for the first time in a couple years. The action was strange to him, but he needed to have someone to depend on in this situation.

If only he'd come when these symptoms started to present themselves.

Tempest wobbled over her feet as she made her way down the small stage that the wedding boutique had set up. Miguel let her lean her body against him, her hand tightly pressed against his chest for some kind of support. "You okay?" he'd seen her get worse these past couple of days, but he decided it'd be better not to push her too much. "Yeah, it's fine," she sounded like she'd just ran a marathon, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to regain control of her breathing.

It'd be better not to make a scene out in public.

"Talk to me, what's going on?" Miguel prodded as the two stepped into the apartment, helping Tempest sit down on the couch despite her protests. She did hate when she got treated like she was weak. Tempest shook his hands off, taking a sip from the water bottle that he'd brought over. He could tell she was just itching to tell him that she was fine, not that the lie would do either of them any good though. "The treatment's just taking more out of me than I expected. The one today just left me feeling particularly weak is all."

"The doctor said it should be expected, Miggy," though the nickname annoyed him to no end, he knew better than to deny a dying person this small thing. Though the excuse didn't sound too coherent to him, he decided he would handle this the way that Tempest wanted to. Instead of him reassuring her, she was doing the task instead. Miguel really needed to do a better job at being a fake fiancé. He let out a small sigh, sitting down by her side and looking over at her with concern etched across all over his features.

"Just tell me if it ever gets too serious, okay? If you ever start to feel too sick or too fatigued. I'll take you to the hospital and I'll get you the best shocking cancer treatment there is, okay?" He told her, taking the water bottle once she was done with it. "I know and I appreciate that, more than you know. But I'm fine, I'll get used to the treatment plan eventually," she responded, the two of them getting into a conversation about what they wanted to order. He always ended up getting what she wanted to regardless.

He thought she was doing better after that, but maybe she'd just done a better job at hiding her sickness away from him. He'd seen her smiling and tending to her plants, even going as far as humming to them. An activity that distracted her from the fact that she couldn't be outside for too long. Little did he know that while the flowers bloomed and thrived under her care, she was decaying with each passing day.

I'm losing by their side

The doctor's words were starting to blur into the background, something about how the treatment plan had been too aggressive. That her body couldn't take it. It all sounded the same to him, really. Just pure gibberish that was meant to rationalize the loss. "If you knew she couldn't take it then why'd you force her into such an aggressive plan?" Miguel kept his distance as he spoke, every word coming out like venom as he looked at the doctor. His hands balled up into fists but he remained in the seat where he was.

Last thing he needed was to deal with both a funeral and a bail hearing tonight.

"We thought that it was the best approach. She never complained about it," the doctor told him, keeping an even tone as he spoke. Miguel's stare was full of disgust, disgust at the way that he somehow made it sound like it was Tempest's fault. He should've gone to someone better, should've done a number of things differently. He really should've been less desperate when trying to help her. His brother's words ran through his head, so many should'ves and not enough doing. And now Tempest was no longer in his life.

The treatment plan wasn't something that was meant to heal her completely, but it was something that was meant to slow down the rate that the cancer was advancing. Instead, it'd only shortened the time that she'd been given. He blamed himself for not listening to her when she'd expressed that the medication and the levels of chemotherapy were starting to become too much, each session leaving her weaker and weaker. He blamed himself for not being able to save her even if the task was practically impossible.

He played with the engagement band that had once been on his finger, waiting absentmindedly for the doctor to come. He was still processing the fact that he wasn't going home with Tempest tonight, that he'd eventually have to go back home to an empty apartment. Nothing ran through his mind as the doctor gave him the full report of what happened, his gaze empty as he looked at the blank wall. No amount of details would change the fact that he wasn't able to save her. As hard as he tried to, he'd failed not only her, but also himself.

He couldn't bear going back home now, getting welcomed to an apartment that smelled like Tempest all around. From the cookie batter that she'd been making earlier to the scent of her perfume permeated on the couch cushions. It was all too much. Having all these little reminders with the knowledge that they'd soon fade away with time. So he found himself driving over to your place without much thought. Your presence was a calming one, one that would anchor him down to earth before he did something stupid.

Headlights flashed in a flurry of colors, the brightness on some of them almost hurting his eyes as he sped down the streets of Nueva York. "What the shock are you doing, man?!" He heard an angry driver scream behind him, a loud honk following after. He should've been more cautious, he really should've. Cars were swerving to get out of his way on the road, a train of honking following him with every red light that he disregarded. But his brain was on autopilot. His only mission was to get to you.

A distraught Miguel was not what you were expecting to see on your doorstep at two in the morning, but yet here he was. His eyes were brimmed red, tears leaking out of him like a faucet as they combined with the rainfall. His grey Alchemax hoodie had turned into a darker shade, his body shaking in front of you. He hadn't even registered that you'd opened the door, his attention on a speck of dirt that laid on your doorstep.

His body clung onto you when the door swung open, holding you the same way a child would hold a teddy bear for comfort. "I couldn't save her," he babbled, his throat raw as he spoke. After the initial shock fizzled out of your body, you rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him down. "I tried, te lo juro que trate," he repeated as he held you close to his body, needing something to stay stagnant for now.

You stayed quiet, providing him the comfort of your presence and your touch. His shoulders shook with each sob that escaped his body, his chest heaving as his lungs struggled to catch up to him. "I know you tried, Miguel," your words fell on deaf ears as he continued to sob, his grip on you tightening. Something to tether him to reality. "I did, I really did," he whispered, sniffling before more tears began to roll down his cheeks. You'd never seen him cry this much before. Never seen him cry ever, actually.

You set the cup of tea down, his hands shaking as he reached over to grab it. A couple drops fell onto the floor when he tried to get a good grasp on it. "I'm sorry, I know I'm making a mess out of your apartment," he'd made a wet spot on your couch after taking a seat, not that it was your first concern at the moment. "Hey, no. You've got nothing to apologize for," you assured him, taking a seat next to him.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it as he took a sip from the chamomile tea that you'd brought over. His throat bobbed as he struggled to keep it down. A part of him was convinced that he didn't deserve to be treated this way, with such care and delicacy. After he'd treated you like something disposable, as something that didn't matter. But he couldn't help and be selfish, enjoy the feeling of having your concern directed towards him. Of having you still care about him.

"Thank you," his voice was hoarse, his cheeks completely tear-streaked as he looked up from the floor over to you. He got up from the couch, taking off the wet hoodie that was practically pasted onto his body by now. "I have some clothes that you can borrow," you told him, seeing the hesitation in his face as he debated on taking off the rest of his moist clothing.

You took out a black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants that he'd let you borrow one time after staying at his place a couple years back. A pair of clothes that you told yourself you'd throw away time and time again, only to let them reside in the back of your cabinet. You were thankful that your reluctance to move on really paid off in this moment. You made your way over to the living room, not feeling comfortable with leaving him alone for too long while he was feeling like this.

You passed him the dry set of clothes, picking up the wet pieces from the floor before leaving to the kitchen to give him some time to change. You set the dry clothes in the dryer, starting up the first round before walking back over to the living room. Miguel's movements seemed delayed as he struggled to put his shirt on, like his brain wasn't communicating properly with his body at the moment. "Here, I got you," you instinctively found yourself needing to help him, pulling the shirt down to cover him up.

He looked like he was on the verge of collapsing right on your floor.

You'd grabbed a blanket over from a closet, placing it down on the couch cushion next to him as well as a plush pillow. "Try to get some rest, okay?" you told him, shutting off the light before starting to make your way back into your bedroom. "Do you mind staying here with me tonight?" his voice was unnaturally quiet. You were sure you would've missed it had you not been paying attention. You weren't sure what the protocol was for sleeping with somewhat of an ex but you decided to oblige.

His arm snaked around your waist in an attempt to hold you close, his body heat practically radiating onto your own body. His body shook behind you but he made no noise, an occasional sniffle here and there. It pained you to see him this upset, without being able to do much other than just offer him your comfort. You wanted to be able to take away his pain despite how upset he'd made you these past couple months. It pained you to see him so helpless, so willing to blame himself despite not having any actual fault in it.

You weren't sure how much time had passed when Miguel's body finally fell slack, snores the sound of lawnmower escaping from his lips. Every time that you tried to adjust his body, the grip he had around you tightened in an attempt to keep you in place. He couldn't bare to lose you too. Even if it was just for a couple seconds. You shut you eyes, trying to will yourself into falling asleep. After a while, you just stopped trying and let yourself get consumed into sleep.

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valeskafics · 3 days

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"Fairytale" - Gale Cleven x Reader

a/n: a request from my lovely @rougegenshin, i hope you enjoy this babe! this can be read as a standalone or better as a sequel to "over the rainbow" 🩷

Summary: Gale wastes no time making you his after he makes it home from war.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, tooth rotting fluff, christianity lol (they get married in a church), oral f receiving, oral m receiving, overstim, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie

Word Count: 1,580

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Masters of the Air characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You’ve dreamed of a fairytale wedding for as long as you can remember. You just never thought you’d get it with the man you’ve loved since you were thirteen years old.

The press was all over it, calling it the wedding of the decade. The up and rising movie starlet marrying a certified war hero was truly an American dream come true. You and Gale were the talk of the town. Every time you attended a premiere, he was there on your arm, gazing at you with those sweet gentle eyes while you posed for the cameras. You would trace his scars with your fingertips, looking up at him with loving eyes, and everyone absolutely loved it.

Was it a bit of a scandal that the two of you moved in together before getting married? Sure. But everyone was willing to brush it off. After all, you were paralyzed with fear when you thought you’d lost Gale. You couldn’t eat, think, drink, or sleep. Your thoughts were consumed by him, imagining the worst possible scenarios. And yet? Somehow? He kept his promise.

He came back to you.

You still remember that first reunion after he got back to the US. The way you ran into his arms, his embrace tight around you, holding each other as if you never wanted to let go. Gale’s tears soaked your hair, yours soaked his shirt, lips meeting each other in a feverish, desperate kiss. You’d almost lost each other. You’d come so close to never seeing each other again. Never feeling each other’s kiss, each other’s touch, each other’s love…

Gale proposed almost immediately. He sank down on one knee right there on that airstrip, declaring he’d find you a ring as soon as possible but that he needed to know here and now that you would spend the rest of your life with him. How could you say anything but yes? You giggled as he took you into his arms, twirling you around, the sound of his brothers in arms laughter echoing in your ears. Meatball bounded up to you next, practically attacking you by slobbering all over your face, clearly having missed you just as much as Gale did.

Bucky and Croz, all of them came to embrace you, congratulating you and Gale, asking when the wedding would be.

Of course every single one of them is invited. Gale stands with his best friend in the back of the St. Vincent De Paul Catholic Church. After all, you’re a Hollywood girl now. His hands tremble as Bucky does his best to calm him.

“What if I let her down?” Gale mumbles, “What if I’m not a good husband to her? A good dad to our kids? I just…”

Bucky rests his hands on Gale’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring smile, “Breathe, Buck. Just breathe. Now tell me something. Do you love her?” Gale nods emphatically, “Okay. How much?”

Gale lets out a breathless laugh, “How much do I love her? That’s like asking me to count how many drops of water there are in the ocean, Bucky. I can’t. I love her so much that it’s a physical pain in my chest at times. I see her and nothing else matters. Everything else fades away. The war. Our time in that camp. Everything. All I can see is her and that sweet, sweet smile.”

Bucky nods at his best friend, “That should answer your question. No one will ever be able to love her the way you do. No one will ever be able to make her happy the way you do. Now, quit being a big old baby and get out there and marry that girl before I grab the rings and do it myself.”

You’re a vision of beauty and grace as you glide down the aisle toward him, that white dress making you look like an angel, the veil covering your pretty face from his view. Gale’s lips part slightly as he murmurs out a “wow” under his breath, feeling Bucky smack his shoulder, muttering what a lucky sonofabitch he is. And God, does Gale know it. His heart pounds against his ribcage with every step you take toward him, the pink shade of your lipstick visible from beneath the veil, as well as your radiant smile.

Meatball trods up, serving as your ring bearer, immediately attacking the both of you with licks to your hands, demanding to be petted. You ignore the priest’s protests as you bend down on your knees, no doubt dirtying the dress, and give him a snuggle, as does Gale, the two of you beaming at each other. And as Gale lifts the veil over your head, you take his breath away once again. You are everything he’s ever dreamed of, his every hope and wish come true as you say your vows to each other. He slides the ring onto your finger, admiring how beautiful it looks, the way it shimmers in the candlelight.

The way the candlelight reflects in your soft eyes as you gaze up at him so lovingly. And you say those words, and so does he.

“I do.”

The reception passes by in a blur, celebrities and family and friends alike all coming to give their congratulations, Gale watching as you spin around in your highest heels as you dance with your father, then with Bucky, looking like a princess. Bucky and Croz, of course, attempt to embarrass him with their toasts along with the rest of the boys - earning a bout of laughter from your lips that his heart racing, and Meatball gets into the wedding cake, completely ruining it beyond repair.

But neither of you would change a thing. It’s the most perfect of days, the day all of your dreams come true.

And the wedding night is no different. Gale’s fingers tremble slightly as he moves to undo your wedding gown, swallowing thickly as he watches it fall to the floor. You step out of it, wearing only your high heels, brassiere, and stockings, gazing up at him. You help him out of his jacket, his tie, then his shirt. Gale pulls you into a soft kiss, one that feels like the first time despite having kissed you nearly a hundred times before tonight.

But this kiss is so very different. It’s the start of a new chapter for the two of you. He lays you down on the bed, gingerly removing your shoes and placing them to the side, pressing a kiss to each of your ankles before he lets his pants fall to the floor, leaving him fully bare. You admire your husband, biting your lip as he crawls up over you, his hands tracing every bit of exposed flesh he can touch.

“I love you, Mrs. Cleven,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck, moving to nibble softly at your collarbone, “I’m gonna make you the happiest woman alive. I promise you that.”

“I know you will, Mr. Cleven,” you tease, running a hand through his hair.

Gale worships your body with his hands, his tongue, any which way he can. He tastes you for what feels like hours, mouthing at your slick folds until your body squirms away, desperate for reprieve. And even then, he continues, holding your thighs apart, eagerly lapping at you, wanting nothing more than to drown himself in your essence, in your taste. You’ve never felt pleasure like this, and even more shocking is when he spills himself simply by tasting you and rutting against the bed ever so slightly. The two of you share a laugh as you move to rid yourself of your brassiere, letting it fall to the ground alongside the rest of your discarded clothing.

His cock is already beginning to harden again as you begin cupping his balls, massaging them gently before mouthing at his tip. Gale’s teeth sink into his lower lip as he watches you work him to full hardness before you finally sink down on him, your wet, warm core enveloping him completely. Gale has never felt so complete as he does when he’s inside of you. He sits up, pulling you into yet another kiss, his hands cupping your breasts as you begin to roll your hips against his, bouncing up and down on him ever so slightly, moaning into his ear how good he feels inside you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he grunts, his breath hot against your jaw as he kisses you, “You gonna let me fill you up, darlin’? Let me make you a mama?”

You nod eagerly, your breath coming out in soft pants as you plead, “Yes, Gale, please… Wanna start a family with you. Want everything with you.”

He flips the two of you over, pushing your knees up to your chest and begins pounding into you even deeper than before, his hair falling into his eyes as he looks into your own, the moment so glaringly intimate it’s almost painful. It’s almost hard to look, but you’re held hostage in his gaze. He kisses you again, feeling you reach your peak around him as he spills himself inside you moments later.

The two of you lay there side by side, trying to catch your breath. Gale reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and smiles at you, “You’re my rainbow.”

“And you’re mine,” you beam back at your husband, pulling him into another kiss.

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sadnymi · 3 days

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「 ✦ jealousy. ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader]

Summary : The night started perfectly: a party with music, friends, and Mattheo by my side. But everything shifts when Mattheo reappears, a dark fury clouding his features and a smear of blood on his face.

Words: 1k

Warning: angst , smut , fluff , unprotected sex .

The pulsing bass vibrated through the floorboards, the party a sensory assault of flashing lights, pounding music, and the excited shouts of our friends. But none of it registered as Mattheo shoved through the crowd, his face a mask of tightly controlled fury.

"Mattheo, what's wrong?" I blurted out, concern twisting my gut into knots. "Mattheo, are you okay?" I reached out, but instead of taking my hand, he grabbed it roughly, his grip sending a jolt through me.

Panic clawed at my throat , as I noticed the blood on his face The darkness in his eyes, the raw anger emanating from him - it was terrifyingly unfamiliar. "Baby, you scare me," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the din. "Did something happen?"

Still not answering me, he marched towards the bathroom, his movements focused and aggressive. He flung the door open with a bang, slamming it shut behind him with a sickening thud. The lock clicked into place.

Trapped in a silent bubble in the middle of the pulsating party, my heart hammered against my ribs.

"Baby please say something ?" I called out, my voice trembling. "What is going on?"but he doesn't answer His lips crash onto mine, and I find myself pinned against the wall, my back hitting it with a soft thud. I moan into the kiss, my body already responding to his touch.

"Shhh, do you want them to hear you y/n?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine. I shake my head, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Are you bleeding?" I couldn't help but ask, terrified that he might be in pain.

“ it’s not my blood “ he say and kissed me again not giving me a chance to respond, the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as if he needed to feel me against him, to reassure himself that I was real. I responded eagerly, my hands instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us igniting a fire that seemed to consume us both.

His kisses became more demanding, his lips trailing along my jawline, down my neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. My breath hitched as he found that sensitive spot just below my ear, his teeth grazing my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hands roaming my body, cupping my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, making them harden under his touch.

I let out a soft moan as he slid his hand down my body, his fingers tracing the outline of my panties. "So wet for me," he whispered, his fingers slipping underneath the fabric, finding my clit.

He rubbed slow circles over it, making me gasp. His other hand reached up, cupping my breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple. I arched my back, pressing myself closer to him.

His fingers moved lower, sliding inside me, curling up, hitting that spot that made me see stars. "Oh, Mattheo fuck," I moaned, my legs shaking.

He started moving his fingers faster, his thumb still working my clit. I was close, so close. But then he stopped, pulling his fingers out of me.

"No, don't stop Matt please ," I whimpered, but he just smirked.

"Bend over," he ordered, and I did as I was told, my hands bracing myself against the wall.

He hiked up my dress , pulling my panties down to my knees. I heard him spit, felt his cock rubbing against my entrance, slick with saliva.

"Mattheo," I moaned, pushing back against him.

"You want it, baby?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"Yes, please," I begged.

He thrust into me, hard and fast, making me cry out. "You're so good for me, so fucking good around me, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips.

He started moving, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. I could feel him hitting that spot inside me, over and over again.

I moaned, my legs shaking. "They were looking at you," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic. "They will pay for it."

His dirty words only made me hotter, my orgasm building up inside me. "Please, Matt ,"

“you want to cum? beg “

"Mattheo. " I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“try again, love.” he said , his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding.

“ please,Matt”I cry out, my body shuddering, my muscles clenching around him.

“Such a good little girl , aren't you?”, his thrusts becoming wild, I could feel myself getting closer and closer, my legs shaking, my breath hitching.

"Cum for me, baby," he ordered, and I did, my orgasm exploding through me , He follows me, his release filling me, his body shuddering with pleasure .

I barely fainted in his arms, my legs too weak to hold me up. He pulled out of me, turning me around, his lips crashing onto mine.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his forehead pressing gently against mine. His warm breath tickled my skin as he spoke. "I just needed to have you, Was I too much? Did I hurt you "

I shook my head, pulling him into a tight hug. "No, you were perfect ," I whispered, planting a soft kiss on his temple. His arms enveloped me, holding me securely against him.

I looked up at him . "Can we go home? I don’t like this party ," I murmured, my eyes searching his.

"You know I would never say no to you," he replied with a warm smile before leaning down to give me one last kiss.

He helped me fix my dress, his touch gentle and caring. Taking my hand, he led me out of the bathroom and back into the party.

As we walked out, I noticed a boy who seemed to be injured and bleeding. I glanced up at Mattheo, and he simply remarked, "He should have kept his mouth shut." and in that moment, everything became clear to me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n

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utterlyotterlyx · 23 hours

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Three

Summary - After Azriel and Nesta return from their mission you find them being as watchful as ever, and it turns out that celebrations weren’t always destined to be joyous.

Warnings - angst, fluff, flirting, slight suggestive tones

Part One Part Two

Sunlight curled around your forearm, tugging you and willing you to step outside and bask in her glory.

Ignoring her, you again focused on the matter that held your attention.

“Say it with me, Nyx,” your hands were delicately placed under his arms, holding him in place on your lap. Nyx looked at you with wide eyes and blushed chubby cheeks, dark hair weeping from sleep, his little wings flapping behind him and small digits reaching to furl into your hair, “Auntie y/n is the most powerful.”

Nyx babbled incoherently and you shrugged, cuddling him into your chest and inhaling that smell that made your heart clench with want. It was so fresh, a perfect amalgamation of Rhys and Feyre but also something utterly pure and unique to him, “Close enough, I suppose.”

A certain type of ferocity had consumed you the moment Nyx had been born, there was no one that could guard him better than you. Perhaps that was why Rhys rarely cared when you would pick up the child and whisk him away in on one of your adventures, that being you’d walk him around the city and take him for ice cream all whilst trying (and failing) to ensure that the first thing to fall from his lips would be your name.

Sunlight speckled through the stained glass panes of the library, it was sometime around noon, and you had swooped Nyx from his cot that morning before Feyre or Rhys could realise it. No one would dare to meddle with your time with your nephew.

Three days had passed since Azriel had left you with nothing but a whisper of a kiss on your brow, it had been three days of silence, three days of Rhys acting as your shadow and you letting him believe that you didn't notice his intense gaze settled upon you whenever you entered the room. The Circle had been suspicious, whispering in corners and sparing you the odd sidelong glance before resuming their hushed bickering, even Feyre, who you believed wouldn't be one of those people, was also taking part.

It seemed as though Lucien was your only friend, he actively sought you out, he had noticed your reluctance and need to hide yourself away so distracted your mind by asking about Eris, about what you spoke of. Of course Lucien knew you wouldn't divulge any details, but seeing your eyes sparkle and a soft smile form on your lips was enough to make him believe that you at least had one good thing occupying your mind these days.

A sonnet of brisk air alerted you to another presence slipping through the library doors, Nyx perked up in your arms, and you knew instantly from that and the scent of night-kissed air that Rhys was stood somewhere behind you. Your nerves stood on end as he rounded where you both sat, casting his shadow over your forms, "You stole him again," Rhys' voice was cold and distant, but he cocked his head to the side and grinned at his son, placing his finger in Nyx's hand and shaking it gently.

"Is it so terrible of me to want to spend some time with my nephew?" Rhys hummed and reached for the child, you went to shield him from your brother but relented when Rhys' gaze set alight in warning and gave in, relaxing your grip and feeling that pained void when the wriggling child was snatched from you.

Rhys settled Nyx into his chest, resting his chin atop the crown of his head and looked down on you with his usual wariness, "We have been invited to the Day Court this evening. Helion has requested your presence."

Narrowing your eyes at him, you surveyed his face for any signs of deception, "What's the occasion?" Rhys turned his back to you, sweeping Nyx from your sight, muttering something about a birthday.

It was too odd. First Azriel and Nesta being sent away, the entire family being odd and secretive, then being beckoned to the Day Court? Something wasn't right, and you certainly did not want to spend your evening watching Helion beg Azriel and Cassian for some kind of soul-enlightening orgy.

Once Rhys had stepped out of the room, you threw up your shield and floated toward the desk, once again ignoring the sun beckoning you outside and finding an odd scrap of parchment to scribe upon, scratching your message out and letting it devour itself into ash and float away.

I need your opinion on something.

A minute passed and you spied an autumn-scented piece of cream tinged paper wedged beneath an old leather bound book.

Is that all you need from me?

Smirking, you replied with a matching amount of seductiveness. That was how your conversations had been going, light and always full of mischief, but Eris was always poised to listen to your words, he was always ready to help you if you even thought of asking him for it.

For now.

Tell me what's on your mind, Fawn.

Hesitating, your quill hovered over the paper as you debated whether or not to tell him what the past three days had been like without Azriel and Nesta. The hushed words and glares, your loneliness and desire to lock yourself away. Was it divulging Night Court secrets or just your own?

I feel out of place here. I feel like I'm being punished for helping you. Rhys sent Azriel and Nesta away, and the rest of them are avoiding me more than usual. Cassian hasn't invited me to training, Mor hasn't come to my rooms to gossip, even Rhys took Nyx from my arms only a few minutes ago. It's like I'm poison that they need to dispel from their lives and I just want to lock myself away and disappear.

Watching the clock, you counted down the seconds until another note found its way to you.

I know Rhys sent them away because I found them poking around my boarders the evening before last. And, you're not poison, Little Fawn, locking yourself away only means that they win, and you're far too important to let the infantile actions of your family diminish everything that you are. Don't forget that. No one controls you but you, y/n, the world is yours if you would only ask for it.

Would you give me the world if I asked for it?

I would burn the world to ash if you asked me to. There is nothing that I would not give you.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you slumped back into the comfort of the antique armchair that you had told Cassian off more times than not for using it as a stool for his feet.

Will you be there tonight? At the Day Court?

I will.

Will you find me?

Always.

The shield around you pulsated with force and you furrowed your brow at the shimmering ripples that swam across its surface. Dull thumps echoed within your bubble, and a muffled voice called out to you. Glancing down at the note in your fingers, you turned it into black mist that curled around your fingers and danced upward to the sky and lowered the guard.

You could have cried with relief. Azriel stood before you, still clad in his second skin, blue siphons glowing like he had entered just entered Velaris and had immediately sought you out before reporting to Rhys. Azriel knew what was more important.

"You're back," you breathed as you walked into his awaiting arms, arms that wrapped around your waist and fingers that raked through your hair with a hint of desperation.

Your heart seized in your chest, needing to feel at home and at peace. But it didn't. A lump formed in your throat and a pit opened in your stomach and pooled with unease.

Azriel pulled away from you, his hazel eyes scoured your face but they held something awoken in them, like he saw you differently. His fingers floated over the surface of your skin, up the inky bargain that encased your upper arm which matched his own and across your collarbone, but he didn't touch you there as though as if he were worried that you would mar his hands further.

You took a step back, "What's wrong?"

He'd found something on his travels, something that was making him look at you differently, in a way he had never looked at you, with fear, with sadness.

Azriel's brows etched together, his eyes flowing up and down your form, noticing something off about you. Your scent. The scent of Autumn, of Eris, lingered on your fingertips, the same fingers that were wrapped around his neck moments ago. You hid your hands behind your back.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," even his voice was laced with his deception, his shoulders went rigid like a putrid smell had entered his nose, and he visibly shivered, "I should go and talk to Rhys. I'll find you later?"

Feigning innocence, you called, "Was the mission alright, at least? Where did you end up going?"

Azriel turned back to you, lingering in the doorway before your portrait, "It was fine," he forced a tight lipped smile, it was almost as if he had forgotten how observant you were, and how well you knew him. Still, you kept your eyes full of that doe eyed wonder that threw him off and lured him right into your talons. If he was going to lie to you, then there was no harm in aiding your own agenda, "Rhys sent us to keep an eye on some happenings in Spring. Tamlin has been expanding his armies."

A lie. A blatant attempt of deception. One that didn't stick.

Anger bubbled within you, Azriel had never lied to you, your bond was supposed to be too special for those kind of games. Instead of allowing it to bubble over, you inhaled deeply and kept your hands folded behind your back, "Well, I'm glad you're home. I missed you."

The Shadowsinger relaxed his features and almost looked as though he wanted to move to you, to gather you up in his arms and protect you from whatever was clearly heading your way. But he didn't, instead, he spoke to you softly, "I missed you too, y/n," and disappeared from your view.

A feeling of impending pain, perhaps not physical, lodged itself deep within your soul, almost strong enough to steal the air from your lungs. Clasping you hand around the ledge of the large oak desk, you hunched over and attempted to fill your lungs with oxygen, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and for the first time in your life, your own sanctuary was suffocating you.

Nesta had greeted you with the same apprehension as Azriel had, although, at least she had made it clear that she didn't want to.

Even the walls were watching you, craning their gaze to follow your figure through the house. The only safe space was your room, so that's where you were, nestled between the cushions and watching the candlelight flicker against the cream coated walls whilst Nesta paced about the space, showing you countless dresses on their hangers since you were making no move to look yourself.

Your friend was dressed in head-to-toe black, a form fitting garment with a long slit up the right side and a neckline so plunging that it left little to the imagination. Her coronet was tightly woven, and two thick strands curled around her jaw to frame her sharp features. Blood red lips, arched brows, eyes full of anticipation.

"You have to choose one, y/n."

Ignoring her command, you turned your head to her and she knew what you wanted to know before you even asked, "Are you going to lie to me too?"

Nesta froze, allowing the hanger to fall at her side along with the silver garment attached to it, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know why Azriel lied to me about where you both went, and I want to know why all of you are suddenly treating me like a stranger," Nesta exhaled shakily, and it was the first time that you had truly seen her stoic demeanour perish before your eyes; she glanced about the room with worry, like she too could sense the house pressing its ear up against your door, "It's safe to speak. Not even the house can hear us."

The elder Archeron sister perched on the edge of your bed, noting your hunched over figure as you hugged your knees close to your chest, it was clear that your exclusion by everyone was making you feel lesser than. Nesta rested her hand atop the comforter, almost reaching for you, but also not at all; Nesta struggled to find the words, to tell you some form of truth without shattering you, "If it ever comes to it, you know I will protect you, don't you?"

"I used to believe that."

Nesta shuffled up the bed and spoke in a hushed tone, "Rhys has been trying to understand you, where all of your power came from and why he only has a fraction of it. He asked us to go Under The Mountain, to see if Amarantha did something else to you other than take your wings. Males would stop at nothing to harness the power that you have."

Under The Mountain was a hazy memory, one that you'd rather not remember at all. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the marred flesh rippling at the action, "Is that what Rhys wants to do? To harness my power? Is that why I've been so hidden?"

Nesta didn't want to answer, but she couldn't keep it from you, unlike Azriel, Nesta remembered your observance, how nothing got past those fire ringed violet orbs, "I don't know what he wants to do with what he finds," she told you honestly, her stoic hatred for him returning to her features, "I didn't go to aid him, y/n. I went so that I could find whatever he wants to know and give it to you. Protect you."

At least one of them was on your side, and you supposed it would have always been Nesta, Azriel was too loyal to the Night Court, and despite your bargain, he would always protect Velaris first and worry about you later.

"Did you find anything?"

Nesta sighed, "Azriel didn't," but she certainly had, "Not now. Now, you wear the most incredible thing you can find and we go to the Day Court and wear the masks that we have to in order to survive another day."

The dress in her fingers, still on its cushioned pearlescent hanger, was a shade of blue-grey that you rarely wore. The bodice was like armour, perfectly fitted and boned, crystals were embedded into the curve of the breastplate and trickled down the deep seated opening that only met just above the bellybutton, exposing the taut muscle and cleavage beneath. From the point where the fabric met at the lower abdomen, the skirt curved upward over the hips and each ridge of fabric acted as a branch, curving upward and cascading down the back, pooling on the floor. The skirt was frosted, diamonds coated the branches of the skirt and curled around the hem which trailed along the floor, and a long central slit sliced upward, enough to expose the legs you knew most males would crumble for, but also little enough to keep your dignity in tact.

It was a spectacular thing that your mother had made. Perhaps the most.

Nesta helped you into the piece, slithering it up your form and humming in appreciation about how well it fit you. The sleeveless garment was certainly made for you, and she secured a diamond necklace around your neck and rested her hands on your shoulders.

Loose curls bounced with every step, Nesta had braided two thick sections and pinned them upward, pulling the skin of your face backward, and had even gone as far as to bless your face in neutral shimmering cosmetics.

The room fell silent when you stepped into the living area, Cassian's once bellowing laughter turned to molten nothingness, Mor's quips dissipated, Rhys' loving words to Feyre who was entangled in his arms were ash in his mouth, even Azriel couldn't speak as his own eyes poured over you.

Paying little mind to the stares of your family, you turned your attention to Lucien who was stood in the corner leaning against a wooden beam with his arms folded over his chest, smirking, "Shall we? I'd hate to waste an outfit like this on people who couldn't even begin to appreciate it the way it deserves to be."

Lucien bit back his laugh and took your arm after a gentle nod from Elain who knew, and despised, how you were being treated. Under his breath Lucien muttered, "You're playing with fire, y/n."

Leading him from the house and onto the lawn, you turned your gaze upward to him, appreciating his beauty and the tied back hair that Elain had no doubt tailored to him, "Perhaps. But I won't be the one who gets burned."

The Day Court Palace had always had the ability to take your breath away, the home alone was enough to convince you that relocating would be a good idea. Maybe it was the white marble pillars so brilliantly white and tall that they kissed the sky, or maybe it was the cloudless skies that washed you in orange bliss the moment you appeared at the foot of the steps.

Even the breeze was welcoming, dancing around your arms and shoulders before moving onward. A weight had shifted within you, and you realised that it was because the Day Court had no reason to watch you like Velaris did, that for the first time in months you were actually free of eyes constantly watching you.

You didn't look back to see if everyone had landed alright when you began to ascend the steps, completely breaking protocol and sauntering upward to where you could hear music and laughter bubbling. Two familiar presences fell in step with you, Nesta and Lucien, the former to your left and the latter to your right, and you all ignored the claws scraping down the walls of your minds commanding you to return to your positions.

Music swirled around you as you paced down the hallway, being mindful of the multiple pairs of feet scuffling behind you until a hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back with force. Rhys loomed over you, eyes ablaze and snarl conformed to his lips, nostrils flaring with each breath, "What do you think you're doing?"

Nesta fell to your side, ready to take down the High Lord by any means necessary, Cassian was glaring at her and moved closer to Rhys, "I think that you're the one who should be answering that question, brother."

The air around you both grew heavy, it pulsated with dark energy that emitted from you both, but yours drowned his own and pierced him with its talons, making him feel weak and weary, "Remove your hand before I make you," and he did, his hand dropped from your wrist, "What a good little High Lord you are, Rhys. Father would be so proud of you."

Unspoken words flew between you, ones that told him that you knew what he was doing, that he was seeking to control you and always had, just as your father did.

Azriel had, unsurprisingly, moved to Rhys' other side, his gaze low and body ready to cut you down, he was blocking Feyre from view but she peeked over his shoulder just as Mor did with Cassian.

Power pulsated around you like a heartbeat, black began to move from your fingertips and tinge your veins with their ink from your fury, and Rhys' faltered at the sight of it, his eyes blew wide open and he found your darkened eyes zoning in on him, the violet had turned almost black and that ring of fire was blazing, "You need to calm down, y/n."

"Don't you dare," Nesta growled, placing her hands on your shoulders and turning you away, whispering to you and soothing you whilst Lucien stood up to Rhys.

Lucien's gaze was cold, his mechanical eye whirred as he took in the scene before him, of the High Lord flanked by his soldiers, needing to protect him from his own flesh and blood, "Tell me, Rhys," he found Rhys' gaze again, that constantly disapproving thing that followed you everywhere, "Tell me how what you're doing to her, to your own sister, is any different than what Tamlin did to Feyre."

Silence.

Bone dry silence consumed them, and when Lucien turned to see where you and Nesta had gone to, he only saw the train of your dress slip around the corner of the door toward the sound of freedom.

The room had turned to you as soon as you had entered with Nesta by your side, and not in a wary on edge way, in one of awe and adoration. Eris lingered by the dais, dressed in dark grey pants and white shirt, grey waistcoat and matching jacket which adorned silver swirls.

All anger evaporated from you as soon as his russet eyes found you, they washed over you with concern, no doubt seeing the blackened fingertips and sadness in your own orbs that had returned to their usual hue. He looked beautiful, more so than you remembered, more beautiful than the version of him that settled within your dreams.

You moved to the dais and greeted Helion, you had gone to bow to him, as custom when visiting other courts, but he didn't let you, "You bow for no one, especially when you look like that," he had always taken every opportunity to flirt with you, and he always held a certain resentment for Rhys for refusing your hand to him.

"Thank you for inviting us, I hope you've had a wonderful birthday," you folded his hands in your own and felt his healing touch worm its way into every negative pocket in your body, feeling lighter, more grounded.

The doors opened again, and you turned to see Rhys stalk up the centre of the hall closely followed by the rest of his Inner Circle. As if sensing your discomfort, Eris took a step up and offered a hand to you, and you gladly took it, stepping down from the foot of the dais to allow Rhys to have his moment with his friend, and not once did Cassian or Azriel's eyes move from you.

Lucien reached his brother and whispered into his ear, "I need to talk to you. Now," Eris frowned and peered to you, noting your fluttering eyelids and the unease that radiated from you and nodded, moving to follow Lucien who sent you a reassuring smile before they exited the hall.

If it weren't for Nesta stood beside you, you surely would have crumbled. She stared down her own mate and friends, head dipped low and staring at them through her brows, anger seethed from her and you knew she was going over the consequences of ending Rhys' existence right there and then in her mind. Nesta was Lady Death and you were the Queen of Darkness.

For the next hour you stuck to the walls of the hall, muttering polite hellos as you did your best to keep a safe distance between you and Rhys.

The architecture was stunning, white marble walls and golden chandeliers, pale wood round tables stacked with sparkling wine flutes and food, long benches full of revellers enjoying the festivities. Artwork delicately hung from the walls, glittering in the crystal tinted glow of the chandeliers, sparkling in the light as the skies grew dark beyond the open arches.

Helion's bellowing laughter floated about the room, and you wondered how a life in Day could have turned out for you. Though, you didn't have long to think of it before a hand curled around your forearm and gently pulled you from the room. Eris was in front of you, gingerly holding your arm in his hand as he led you down a flurry of corridors, peering down each one quickly to ensure it was safe to go there.

The High Lord led you all the way out to a private balcony, where you could hear the waves crashing against the rocks and the breeze flutter around the corner. The torchlight danced in the wind, flickering softly as he turned to you. Breathing in, you felt peace, that autumn pine and orange, wilting leaves and warm autumn rain.

Sighing, you felt tears pool in your vision, turning it slightly blurry as you tried to drink him in, "Lucien told me what happened. Are you alright?"

That singular question broke a little piece of you, you couldn't remember the last time some asked if you were alright and were actually invested in the answer. The concern in his eyes and brows made a soft tug pull at your soul, "I'm suffocating."

Eris waited for you to continue, keeping a distance he thought you'd be comfortable with between you, though all you wanted was to know what his arms around you would feel like, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder.

"They've been lying to me, all of them. Nesta confirmed it. Rhys doesn't understand why he only has a fraction of my power, he sent them Under The Mountain to see if Amarantha did other things to me when she held me hostage in the beginning. I feel like a prisoner in my own home, they're all scared of me, even Azriel," your voice broke, never in a million years, in your existence, did you ever think you'd voice that Azriel was scared of you.

"None of them want to touch me or speak to me. I can't do it anymore. I thought Rhys just wanted to protect me, but now I know it was never about that, it was about keeping me hidden and away from everyone else, he made me a prisoner and I didn't even know it."

Wrapping your arms around yourself, your tears flowed freely down your cheeks and you made no move to wipe them away. Eris took a step closer to you, his shadow waltzing with your own, "Can I touch you?"

It took you a moment, a moment of his russet eyes on you and fingers fidgeting at his side until you nodded softly and he raised his hand. His fingertips lightly dusted up your arms and neck, they curled your hair around them and grazed along your jaw, and you felt electric under his touch that spready across every single part of you. His breath was warm over your face and you took a moment to appreciate him, his godly-crafted cheekbones and jaw, eyes that told a million stories, the golden freckled skin and his curved lips.

"I'm not afraid of you, Little Fawn. Nothing about you scares me," his finger curled under your chin and angled your head upward, "All you need to do is say the words. You are the author of your own story. Tell me what you want."

Rhys had let you believe that you had free will, he had allowed you to be outspoken and poised, he had let you believe that you were nothing more than a scare tactic, and you were too enthralled with your so-called family to realise what he had done. There was nothing free about your life, you weren't allowed to leave Velaris without supervision and even such occasions were rare, you weren't called upon in battle until there was no other choice, you were a pawn to him, one that he had masterfully toyed with.

"I want to go to the Autumn Court. With you. I want to denounce my place in the Night Court and leave Velaris," the words felt like poison in your mouth but your soul was thankful for it, and the storm in your soul had already began to break with golden sunlight.

Eris nodded and took a step toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest, your hands were flat against his waistcoat that had once again matched your own attire perfectly, "Your wish is my command, Little Fawn," and then you both disappeared in a swirl of light, leaving nothing but the joint bliss of your scents behind and dancing away in the night-kissed breeze.

Author's Note

I hope you love this! x

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams

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yandere-romanticaa · 2 days

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Recently, the surge of AI has caught everyone's attention and I've been working on this little experiment.

Down below the cut are two fics and this is how I planned it - one was made up by using AI (more specifically, Chat Gpt) while the other one was written by yours truly. Below both fics will be a poll and I would like for you, my dear readers, to guess which one was AI. Personally, I don't think it'll be a difficult challenge but seeing your reactions and comments on this should prove to be an interesting endeavor.

This was posted on April 17th. And, in 7 days, I shall reveal which fic was written by me, and which one was done by AI.

Now then, let's get on with the show.

🥀 Story One.

In the dimly lit alleyways of Yokohama, Fyodor Dostoevsky stalks his obsession, (y/n), with unwavering determination. His fixation transcends reason, driving him to extreme lengths to possess (y/n)'s affection.

Fyodor's obsession with (y/n) began innocently enough, a mere curiosity sparked by their untapped potential and innocence. But as time passed, that curiosity twisted into an all-consuming desire, festering within Fyodor's mind like a venomous serpent.

Each night, Fyodor would follow (y/n) from a distance, his heart pounding with anticipation and longing. He would watch as (y/n) laughed with their friends, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.

But Fyodor's love was not the gentle, nurturing kind. It was possessive, suffocating, and dangerously obsessive. He couldn't bear the thought of (y/n) belonging to anyone but him, couldn't stand the idea of anyone else basking in the warmth of (y/n)'s smile.

As his obsession deepened, Fyodor's mind became consumed with dark fantasies of possessing (y/n) completely. He would spend hours meticulously planning every detail of their future together, envisioning a life where they were inseparable.

But fantasies were not enough for Fyodor. He needed to make them a reality, no matter the cost. And so, he began to weave a web of deception and manipulation, carefully orchestrating events to bring (y/n) closer to him and drive away anyone who dared to stand in their way.

But as Fyodor's plans grew more elaborate, so too did the danger. (y/n)'s friends grew suspicious of Fyodor's intentions, sensing something sinister lurking beneath his charming facade. And as they delved deeper into Fyodor's past, they uncovered secrets that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed world.

But Fyodor was not about to let anyone come between him and his beloved. He would do whatever it took to protect their love, even if it meant resorting to violence.

🥀 Story Two.

Shimmering waves of starlight engulfed the man in white as he monitored his target from a safe distance, hollow purple eyes gleaming with excitement. He could feel his long fingers twitching with anticipation in his warm pockets, a stark contrast to the chilly wind on this fine spring evening.

He needed to be patient. Because patience was indeed, a virtue.

And Fyodor was a virtuous man. Perhaps not a good one, but he would gladly take the title of virtue.

Would you bestow upon him such a title? Would you do so, if you ever found out that he had taken such a keen interest in you? The rational part in his mind said no, of course not. Unlike him, you were blessed with normalcy. There was nothing extraordinary about you - no ability, no wealth, no status.

Nothing.

You could have been squished like a bug beneath his heel and the world would just keep on going as it always would. Sure, there would be some individuals who would miss you dearly but even they would move on at some point.

Such was the nature of humanity. How cruel, he thought to himself.

Fortunately for you, Fyodor was no ordinary man. Despite his predicament, he had grown fond of you. He was not sure why but after a while, he stopped asking such trifling questions as to why he troubled himself by giving you so much attention.

It was pointless to make sense of the senseless.

Right here, right now, all he wanted was to enjoy this quiet evening by his lonesome, as he tailed behind you like a creeping shadow. He would reveal himself to you properly when the time was right, when he felt you were strong enough to take him.

Fyodor just needed to wait a little bit longer, just long enough to see how he should proceed with you in case things went south.

In the meantime, he would gladly spend every waking moment simply watching you for his own personal pleasure.

🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enoojnij, @ishqani, @osachiyo, @bluepeanutharmony, @kaithegremlin, @fyodorscockslut, @wcayaw, @luna-mariko-akatsuki, @lovelyyz, @queenofspades403

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i-cant-sing · 1 day

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I’m letting him smooch my forehead for the nth time if it means I get affection and smooches 🥹🥲 I’m desperate ok?! 🫠 mf I’ve been single for way too long… I need some dopamine…. Also Forehead smooches just hit different

Ugh Baldwin is just so- imagine being mad at him for whatever reason (maybe he was a bit late to come when you called for him because he was busy with court affairs and now he has to deal with a pissed princess who's huffing and puffing because she cant get her time machine to work and out of frustration, she misplaces her anger and takes it out on Baldwin).

He has you trapped against the wall, arms on caging you as you refuse to look at him. Baldwin is trying so hard to supress his smile, because you look even more adorable when youre mad.

"Princess-" he smooches your forehead. "No." You puff your cheeks, brows furrowed as you look to the side, eyes full of anger and distress. Another smooch to you kiss. "Princess, Im sorry-"

"No." You cut him off and he automatically lands another kiss, this time right under your left eye, if only to make you look at him momentarily.

"I'm sorry I was late-"

"You said- no! No more kisses!" You evaded his lips as you glared at him, making him pout. "You said nothing is more important than me. That you'd come anytime I'd call you. I waited for 2 hours! TWO HOURS!"

"I know, my love and Im sorry. The council had some affairs that needed to be dealt with immediately, and time just slipped out of my hand. I promise, it wont happen again." He jutted out his bottom lip (and although anyone else wouldve looked ugly like this, this is Baldwin we're talking about. he's never ugly.) "Forgive me?" His blue eyes held remorse for his mistake, and it didnt help when he brought them even closer when he rested his forehead on yours, making your breath hitch.

"I- uh- fine! Fine! I forgive you!" You finally breathed as your face turned pink, moving it away from him, only for the king to chuckle as he sweetly kissed the apple of your cheeks. "Thank you, princess!"

Ugh. Pretty privelege.

You shot him a glare. "What was so important that the council wouldnt let you leave anyways?"

"Hm? Oh, they wanted to discuss who should be allowed to attend our wedding night."

You stared at him. "What?"

"Well, as per tradition, they wanted to discuss who would be allowed to see us consumate-" he burst into laughter as you threw a book at him. Your face was all red as you began pulling at his blonde hair and was about to beat him when Baldwin suddenly lifted you up and slammed you on your bed, knocking the air out of you as he caught your wrists in one hand while the other tapped your nose.

"As if I would let any see my pretty little prude." He grinned, leaning down to kiss your nose. "You're all mine, princess. All mine."

For the rest of the day, you were too flustered to say a word to him, or even look at him. And so, it never occurred to you to ask him how he convinced the council to make an exemption of this tradition for you.

If you'd asked, Baldwin would've told you that the council wanted confirmation that their monarchs did the deed... to which lover boy replied-

"When you see the queen having to be carried around after our wedding night, you'll know."

#yandere king baldwin #yandere baldwin #yandere x darling #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #baldwin iv

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lightbluedevil · 2 days

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I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT HER OKAY?? She’s throwing a funeral for her spider😭😭 she was really an emo kid

Also her name is Peruere, which might come from the latin word Perurere which means ”burn up” or ”consume with fire” and i think it suits her, either related to her powers or her anger towards the ”Mother”

And what is it with gay people and bunnies im looking at you wangxian

If someone starts to make these as plushies I have to have it

”I’m sorry… Thank you”

Ok I didnt even want to be happy anyway

But i need clarification on how she died, did the Mother kill her? Did she kill herself? Did something happen so Arlecchino killed her?

This is making me doubt that she has a hilichurl curse, it seems like something else, connected to her black/red powers that doesn’t look like normal pyro

My poor baby is in prison :((

She is so cool im going to cry

”My poor, mad, cursed Knave”

Also she probably didnt want to be called Mother because she hated the previous director so she is called Father

I love her i love her i love her

#arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #genshin impact #genshin #the knave #the fourth harbinger #fourth fatui harbinger #peruere #fatui

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days

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Just Friends?

Eddie is your older, sexy next door neighbour. You're instantly smitten with him but with the countless women that you see leave his trailer dreamy eyed and lovestruck, you don't have a chance with him? You're just his friend right?

Warnings; Older Eddie, minors shoo, fluff, jealous Eddie. Friends to lovers, Comfort, Pet loss (anon who sent me the request to write about this, I'm sending you all the hugs and positive vibes in the world ❤️)

💌🎀❤️

Eddie Munson is your older, gorgeous neighbour and you're pretty sure he could never be interested in you. He dated beautiful women all the time, you saw when they left his trailer dreamy eyed and already hooked on him.

You'd hear the giggles and their moans every night while you sat on your patio and tried to ignore the noises, ignoring the tightness coiling in your gut and the envy you felt.

How you wished that it was you that held Eddie's attention. The two of you did talk a lot and you had been over to his for a beer quite a few times but he wasn't interested in you romantically.

He had been such a good friend to you since the two of you met. When you first moved here, about six months into your stay your sweet kitty had passed away.

She had hidden herself away in a corner of the room, wouldn't come out no matter how much you tried and it devastated you.

Eddie had seen you in tears one day and you had poured your heart out to him about Missy, he was kind and so sweet with you. For a little bit he just listened as you cried, then he pulled you into a big hug and told you everything would be okay.

"It will be okay sweetheart, I promise you. Every day the hurt will get a little bit better. You'll still miss her but she's here with you always, in your heart and in your memories" you managed to nod through tears and the words had given you hope.

Eddie helped locate Missy who had sadly passed, he was there for you as you through every step, from taking Missy to the vet, to receiving her ashes in a little wooden box that you kept on your nightstand with a picture of your sweet kitty.

Every day Eddie helped you smile even if it was just for a little while, gave you hugs when you needed them and had even drawn a portrait of Missy from one of your photos of her. Something you could remember her by.

The drawing was beside Missy's picture and her ashes and you treasured it. One small act of kindness but it had helped you heal a little bit of your heartache.

Through all of that it was then you realised you had fallen for Eddie.

Eddie who only saw you as a friend.

Eddie who pops his head around your door as you cook some dinner that night, he smiles warmly at you and it flusters you.

"Something smells good princess, can I join you?"

Fuck, he was sexy. His hair was in a bun, he just came home from work and he's in his overalls, there's a smudge of grease on his cheek that you'd love to wipe off.

You fight the urge and heap the pasta into a bowl for him, add the homemade garlic bread and some salad. He lets out a small contented sigh as he settles down and begins to eat.

"I picked a movie when I was coming home from work, want to watch it with me sweetheart?" he suggests to you and you nod. He always picked the best movies.

Once food is consumed you follow Eddie into his trailer and wonder if he had a date tonight? Wouldn't he rather be with them then hanging with you?

Then again he wouldn't have invited you if he thought that. "Don't you have a date Eddie?" You ask curiously and hope you're not prying too much.

"Nah, thought I'd rather hang out with you princess, see some friends" you nod. Of course, friends. That's all the two of you were. At least you definitely know where he stands now.

Maybe it was time for you to have some fun. You deserved to have some fun and it's not like Eddie was ever without attention from women. Maybe he would be protective if you dated someone as a friend.

You watch as Eddie laughs at a certain part of the movie, his dimples on show and his eyes lighting up. He was so perfect it hurt but if he only saw you as a friend then you'd be the best friend he ever had.

💌🎀

Due to your decision you find yourself going to a party that your friends invited you to. It wasn't often that you left the comfort of your home to go to a party nowadays but you figured if anything would help you get over Eddie it would be getting yourself out there.

You're dressed up for the first time in ages and feel really good. Eddie is relaxing with a beer and talking to his friends when you head out of your home.

He chokes on his beer a bit and it flustered you, "Do I look okay?" You ask anxiously and Eddie's big brown eyes are wide as he takes in your appearance.

"Okay" he chokes out and Steve rolls his eyes and smiles at you. "You look beautiful honey" thanking Steve you wave goodbye to Eddie and you're pretty sure his eyes are on you all the way.

💌💞

You wake in the morning with a slight hangover and the hot guy from last night just leaving the shower. His name was Jerry and he was exactly what you needed at the time, just one night where you didn't think of your god of a neighbour and who he was with.

Jerry doesn't stick around and to be honest you don't want him to. Last night was fun but you weren't looking for a repeat performance. You follow Jerry to the door, saying goodbye but startle when you see Eddie outside your door and looking pissed.

His eyes narrow as he looks at Jerry, his big brown eyes flash with something you can't place. You can't help noticing how unbelievably gorgeous he looks but then he opens his mouth and ruins everything.

"You know I couldn't sleep last night because of you and the lover boy here" you frown confused and your heart skips a beat. Was he jealous?

"Um..." You don't get to say much more because Jerry hastily makes an exit and Eddie's vicious gaze follows him.

"Pussy" he mutters and you scowl. What was wrong with him? He speaks again before you can question him and it sends annoyance pulsing through you, once you hear what he has to say.

"All night I heard you and that idiot all over each other, people do have work and shit you know" you reel back from Eddie stunned. The two of you had never traded cross words and now he was giving you shit for doing something he did most nights?

No fucking way.

"Are you serious Eddie? I hear countless women and their moans and giggles all through the night and I've never said shit about that...yet you have the gall to bitch to me when I bring a guy home?"

His pissed looks melts away just a tiny bit and you walk towards him seriously annoyed at this point, "Let me be clear Eddie. You don't get to give me shit when you've driven me nuts for weeks" he blinks startled then grins. He actually grins.

"You're beautiful when you're angry you know, I mean you're always beautiful but I like seeing you all fiery" this disarms you for a second but you soon wave it off.

"Don't you try and charm your way out of this Munson, your pretty eyes and sweet talk don't work on me" well the pretty eyes did but you wouldn't tell him that.

"I was telling the truth" he replies seriously and you hide your smile. Damn him.

"The only woman I've ever wanted to notice me was you princess" he finishes that sentence and then tugs you to him and kisses you deeply. Your brain short circuits for a few seconds before you kiss him back.

Then you pull away and shake your head. Nope, no way were you being some notch on his bedpost.

"I'm not doing this Eddie. I'm not being another woman that you just conveniently forget about after you get what you want" he looks exasperated and gently tilts your head up to look at him.

"You aren't listening to me sweetheart. I'm totally fucking crazy about you. I don't want anyone else, just you" oh.

Despite the joy you feel you can't help but be a bit frustrated. "You have a funny way of showing it Eddie" he nods and his eyes soften as he squeezes your hand.

"Didn't think you felt the same. I should have asked I know, I'm an idiot". Fuck, you thought that Eddie didn't feel the same about you. Both of you were idiots.

"Well, maybe you can make it up to me later? Your famous Mac and cheese and maybe..." You trail off and find the courage to kiss him this time. He responds eagerly, pulls away to kiss your forehead and beams.

"It's a date princess"

💞

Tag list @whysodelirious08 @ali-r3n @lilrubles @yourdailymemedelivery @marvelcasey05 @melodymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @sadbitchfangirl @mylovelycrazyworld @exploding-bonbon @deamours @costellation-hunter

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #older eddie munson

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delicatebarness · 3 days

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i think he knows | chapter five

Summary: It's game night.

Warnings: A few punches. Bucky's a wind-up. If you find any more, please let me know and I can add them.

Word Count: 1901

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A/N: I wanted this one to be the longest chapter yet, it didn't happen but I don't think it would have flowed if I added more.

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10

Friday approached quickly, and the anticipation and excitement of the game had reached further than just the football pitch. Every corner of the school was decorated and filled with cheering, almost every student had been consumed by school spirit. Your brother’s name echoed through the hallways, a testament to the weight resting on his shoulders.

Unlike the rest of the team, Steve’s ambitions extended beyond high school glory. This wasn’t just a game to him, it was the starting point for a brighter future. He had the means to defy the expectations set by the privileged upbringing you had. He knew one way or the other, he’d get into college. However, from a young age, he wanted to carve his legacy, independent from his family’s influence.

Tonight’s game wasn’t about winning or losing, it was about proving to himself that he is more than his privilege and family name.

Outside, you navigated the bustling parking lot, the scent of freshly cut grass and the roaring cheering eloped your senses. Despite knowing that Bucky and his friends wouldn’t bother attending, their disdain was well-known for school events, you couldn’t shake the hope of catching a glimpse of his signature leather amidst the crowd.

You were about to dismiss your wishful thinking when you finally spotted it, a solitary leather jacket leaning against the chained fence toward the back of the parking lot. You bubbled with excitement, reaching the same level of hype as others around you. It was out of character for you on game nights. The urge to make your way over to him or offer a wave washed away at the realization that your parents were beside you.

The thought of their questions, probing for answers you didn’t know yourself, brought you back down from the clouds. Which ironically, weren’t anywhere to be seen in the sky tonight.

As you made your way toward the football field, you couldn’t help but wonder what could have awaited you beyond the watchful eyes and protective figures in your life.

At halftime, the scores were tied. The crowd buzzed with excitement around you, yet, you couldn’t help the feeling that this wasn’t where you were meant to be. An impulse came over you as you looked down towards the exit and then back at your friends sitting behind you.

“I’ll be right back, cover for me, please,” you pleaded to them, not taking a moment to explain. They both nodded, already knowing what you were planning. Slipping through the crowd down to the exit, you took a deep breath before stepping out.

And there, just as you had expected, Bucky stood at the edge of the parking lot, leaning against his motorbike, cigarette dangling between his fingers. His eye lit up when he spotted you walking toward him, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Fancy seeing you here, Sunshine.” You couldn’t help but smile back at him, the tension of the game, and family expectations faded away in seconds. He took the helmet hanging from the handlebar and handed it to you. Accepting the helmet, you fastened it securely under your chin.

“I need to be back before the game finishes,” you reminded him urgently. With a reassuring smile, he extended a hand to help you onto the back of the bike. You settled into position, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your protected head against his back. The engine roared to life beneath you, you felt lighter the second he took off.

When the engine of the bike stopped, you realized that Bucky had brought you to The Overlook. Perched on top of a rugged cliffside, it offered a view of the whole town. It was illuminated by the glow of streetlights. Moments like this made you thankful that your hometown mostly got clear nights and not too much light pollution to stop the flicker of stars.

Standing side by side, the cool air swirled around you as you silently appreciated the view.

“Why do you call me ‘Sunshine’?” you asked breaking the silence, curiosity lacing your voice as you gazed up at Bucky, he was the only person to call you by the endearing nickname. You had been wondering since that first time, why?

A faint smile played on his lips as he considered how to answer your questions. “You remind me of that song” he explained before clearing his throat and began singing softly but slightly out of key. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” As the familiar lyrics filled the quiet small-town air, he pulled you closer by the waist into a slow dance that seemed to stop time and space itself. “You make me happy when skies are gray.” he continued, you melted into his embrace, swaying as the world faded behind you.

As the song came to an end, your head rested on his chest and his chin came down to rest on top of your head. You lingered in each other’s arms for a moment longer. Neither of you wanted to be the first to pull away. It was the most intimate moment of your life. It gave you a glimmer of hope.

For a second, you lifted your head meeting his gaze. A silent question lingered in his eyes as they moved from yours to your lips and back. With a soft nod, you gave him permission to close the gap between you, close the distance, and be the closest you have ever been to anyone.

Gently, he cupped your cheek, his fingers trailed over your skin as he leaned down and into you. Time stood still as his lips hovered over yours, you could only hear both your hearts beating.

In a moment, his lips met yours. A symphony of emotions crashed over you. It was filled with longing and desire as if you both had waited your entire lives for this moment. His grip on your waist tightened as the hand on your cheek moved into your hair, pulling you closer to him before you both came up for air. You both gazed into the other's eyes as you caught your breath.

“I don’t want to take you back,” he sighed.

You spotted your family and friends in the sea of supporters located on the bleachers as you made your way back to your seat. You waved at them as you approached. Thankfully, your dad was too invested in the game to notice your presence. Your mom, on the other hand, gave you a look you had never seen before from her. It was a mixture of confusion and understanding.

During a crucial moment in the fourth quarter, your school was up by a single point. Everything seemed to have gone well until movement caught your eye at the edge of the field. Bucky. Oh no.

His gaze locked onto yours, your breath hitched as you wondered why he would choose now to come inside. You blinked breaking your gaze, looking out at the field you noticed Steve’s concentration had wavered. His eyes were locked on Bucky. It was as if his presence alone had the strength to throw Steve off his game.

You watched in dismay as the other school, dressed in black and red with an octopus school mascot, seized the opportunity that gained them ground and threatened to score. Refocusing, Steve turned his attention back to the game. It was too late, the damage had been done. They were losing time and now points. The last few minutes of the game ticked, and the tension on the field and the bleachers grew.

With seconds on the clock, Steve led the team, desperately pushing to regain control of the game. The crowd fell quiet. “Come on, Stevie,” you whispered under your breath.

The final whistle blew, and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. They did it, The Brooklyn Knights had done it. They won. Players rushed onto the field, cheering and celebrating with each other. You watched as Steve broke away from the celebration running the opposite way, in Bucky’s direction.

You rushed down to the edge of the field, following the direction of your brother. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and dread crept with every step you took. As you turned into the hallway they had reached, you saw Steve striding purposefully towards the waiting smirk of Bucky Barnes.

Without a word, Steve’s fist swung up with force striking a blow to Bucky’s cheek. He stumbled back slightly but his smirk remained in place. “I warned you,” Steve spat, his voice filled with rage.

“That all you got, Rogers?” Bucky taunted your brother, tone laced with arrogance. Another blow, except this time to his stomach.

“Stop!” your voice cutting through the tension as you thrust yourself between the two. Ignoring the way your heart was pounding, you stood staring up at your brother. “Please,” your voice was barely a whisper as you pleaded.

“Home. Now,” All three of your heads snapped toward the voice. Your dad. He’d been close behind you after you ignored his calls previously. Behind him stood your mom, Wanda, and Peter. He marched over pushing Steve away from you and Bucky slightly. You watched in disbelief as they walked toward the parking lot. You turned to look over Bucky’s injuries, “Now!” your dad's demand echoed through the hallway. You whispered apologies to Bucky as you began to follow your family.

Your eyes locked with Wanda’s, gesturing toward Bucky, you silently asked her to ensure he was okay. Her eyes filled with empathy as she nodded, making a promise to you.

“He’s using you!” Steve’s voice echoed up the stairs, yelling as he followed you into your bedroom. Desperate to escape the confrontation, you tried to slam your door shut, but his hand shot out stopping it.

“No, he isn’t.” you protested, your voice began to tremble as you fought back tears. The worst scenario playing out in your mind. The biggest question that you feared the answer to. Was Bucky using you?

“He’s playing you, Y/N! You don’t know him like I do, you don’t know his so-called friends,” His words felt like they were cutting into you like tiny paper cuts. His voice filled with bitterness and frustration. His eyes were boring into you, he needed you to understand.

“I don’t want to hear it!” you raised your voice back at him, attempting to drown out his accusations.

He was relentless, filled with anger and sorrow as he continued to unveil the true reasons why he worried about you being around Bucky, why he didn’t trust him. “They pick a victim, like you, and they place bets on how far they can push you, how long it takes, where it happens. They lure you in and make you feel safe and special. Then, they take advantage of you,” he took a pause, catching his breath before continuing with a sigh. “And after, they just discard you like you never mattered.”

“Steven!” Your dad’s voice boomed from the doorway, Steve’s body had been shielding you away from the fury in his eyes as he listened to his son recount this sort of behavior. Particularly, in the context of his daughter’s vulnerability. “I think that’s enough.”

The ground felt like it was crumbling around you. Any moment now it would have swallowed you whole. Was it true?

---

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mia-nina-lilly · 2 days

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Before, I didn't think it was necessary to have to list every good deed of Tamlin to make a defense of the character; I thought that showing the underlying motivations behind his actions was (and should indeed be) enough for people to understand my point of view, but apparently, I really do need to, Especially when it involves Rhysand and a comparison between the two.

Basically, fans of ACOTAR, and fans of Rhysand in particular, have come to associate anything bad with Tamlin, and everything good with Rhysand, even if that's not necessarily true. For example, earlier I saw a video where the character captioned as Tamlin said something like "You don't have to accept her no...," and I believe I don't need to explain the context. The character captioned as Rhysand obviously condemned the speech.

Well, I don't need to say here who did what to whom, do I? However, somehow, over time, things about Tamlin have reversed to the point where people simply erased from their minds anything remotely positive about him, and suddenly, he embodies all the absurdities that our society condemns, and of course, this happens because of the author, who despite everything, insists on shoving Feyre's distorted view (actually, Rhysand's view) down our throats.

I've been seeing a rollercoaster of videos, especially on TikTok, where Tamlin is completely despised. The last one that made me most furious implied that Tamlin wanted to keep Feyre illiterate, and that Rhysand was the only one to help her with literacy, when in fact Tamlin offered her help numerous times, and the idea of the poem he wrote for her was precisely to alleviate the difficulty she was experiencing with the task, but even that is ridiculed... because "Oh my god, he gave a poem to a girl who couldn't read. How dumb!"

I come to the conclusion that a good portion of the fandom has undergone a brainwashing due to the strength of the group's hatred towards the character, feeding into each other. In other words, people produced hate content, consumed it, and then produced more. It's pointless to even list Tamlin's many good deeds because no matter what he does, it will always be wrong, which means that even a redemption arc, which in my opinion wouldn't be the case, would be enough to stop this, because people have already solidified this view and won't stop

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #Tamlin #pro tamlin #always pro tamlin #tamlin acotar #sjm #sjm critical #That's why I gave up debating.

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haetrack · 1 day

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[17:10]

warnings: renjun x afab!reader, pillow humping, slight scent kink, renjun gets caught

this is probably the most inconvenient thing renjun has ever done.

he’s currently getting himself off to the thought of you, his best friend, which is already inconvenient in itself. what’s worse, he’s humping his pillow pathetically while thinking about you, his hand not being enough anymore.

earlier, he had wrapped his fist around his aching cock, too horny to care about how he’d feel guilty afterwards. all the thoughts of you swirled in his mind over how touchy you seem to be around him. he wonders what you’d think if you saw him like this.

he’d push your hands away from him, push you away if you stared at him for too long. if he’d let you stare, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting into his head, imagining your teary eyes as he fucked you.

all this pent up frustration leads him to tonight, fist gliding along his dick as he whines out your name. he tries to excuse it by saying this will be the only time he'll do this. until his fist doesn’t feel like enough, thoughts of you under him taking up too much of his mind.

without rationally thinking, he moves the pillow he was laying against under him, an embarrassed frown on his face as he straddles it. his cock is twitching against his stomach in anticipation, waiting for him to grind down onto the fabric.

he leans forward a bit, his cock pressing against his pillow. at the first roll of his hips, he lets out a small whine at the feeling. it doesn’t take long for him to find a good rhythm, the feeling too good for him not to like.

he practically collapses on top of the pillow, arms giving out as pleasure consumes him. he rubs his face against it, pretending it’s your neck he’s nuzzling into. one of his hands grips on to the side of the pillow, imagining it’s the soft skin at your hips that he's holding.

he’s imagining fucking his cock into your cunt, thinking about how your walls would clench around him. his tip leaks precum against the fabric, causing an easier glide for him. it’s so humiliating getting off like this when he could easily ask you.

he’s getting close embarrassingly fast, his hips fucking into the pillow at the thought of you. maybe next time when you sleepover, he’ll let you have his pillow, letting you put all of your scent on it. he’d be surrounded by you next time he gets off, all without you knowing-

his thoughts are interrupted by his phone vibrating nearby. he lets out an annoyed groan, too preoccupied to talk to anyone. he lets it ring, but another call comes right after. he sighs, fully plopping down on the pillow, checking who could be calling him at the worst time.

it’s you. he decides to answer. what could you possibly need right now?

“hey, renjun.”

at the sound of your voice saying his name, he can’t help but let his hips grind down into the pillow. it’s not like you know what he’s doing. he shakily answers, “hey, um, how are you?”

you want to laugh at how off he sounds. he's out of breath, his voice is shaky, and you swear you hear him roll around in bed. "doing fine. how are you? it sounds like you just finished running or something."

renjun immediately sits up straight. no way he's been caught that fast. "no, i just- i wasn't doing anything."

his voice is laced with something you can't quite place yet. he sounds cute though, reminding you of all the times you tease him. his cheeks would always go pink before he would push you away. for the sake of your friendship, you would always try to ignore it.

except now, it's just the two of you on a call. he's all yours right now, and you don't intend to stop teasing him. you sigh, "hm, i think you're lying, but it's fine. i just got home from class and i was bored."

"you were bored so you called me?" you can hear him huff on the other side of the call.

"yeah, wanted to call my favorite person," you laugh. a groan let out by renjun is followed right after, slightly muffled by something. you badly want to ask what he was doing, but that would be too easy. you'll play the long game.

"it's not like i have anything to do. i was super tired today, all i wanted to do was talk to you."

renjun is quiet on the other end. he doesn't mean to, but his hips start moving against the pillow again. he hates how easy it is for him to lose himself when it comes to you. he's trying to be subtle about it, slow grinds into his pillow and his hand covering his mouth as you talk about your day.

he feels a little like a pervert doing this, but it's not his fault he got interrupted. if someone else would have called him, it would've ruined it for him and he would've had to stop. but it was you who called him, and he can't help think about how nice your voice sounds to him right now.

maybe another time, you could help guide him, telling him to fuck his pillow like a loser. a small groan escapes his mouth at the thought, and he hears your voice stop. he should be scared, worried at what you might think, but your reaction just brings him closer to cumming.

"renjun?" you call out to him and he's trying hard to stifle his noises.

“mhm? sorry, i zoned out near the end.”

he’s being way too quiet for you. he still sounds out of breath, and put your ear the speaker of your phone. there’s huffs of breaths renjun is letting out and rustling noises coming from his end. what is he doing?

you don’t know what else to do but to joke around, “you’re not, like, jerking off or anything, right?”

and suddenly, the call is quiet. there’s no more hushed breaths or rustling, but complete silence on his end of the call. you feel a little shocked, because there’s no way he’s actually getting off, right? right?

“renjun, answer me.”

“n-no, i’m just laying down, i d-don’t-”

you don’t know what comes over you, “are you sure? should i come over and check for myself?”

“n-no!” renjun practically yells into the phone. despite his words, his hips begin grinding into the pillow again. why he loses all his composure around you? he’s not sure.

“hm, sorry about that. i guess it would be weird if your best friend asked if you were getting off on a call.” you raise the volume of your phone, hearing the hushed whines renjun lets out.

he’s definitely lying.

if renjun had the courage, he’d tell you to come over. he’d pin you down to his bed like how he has his pillow, driving his cock into you as you apologize for teasing him so much. he’d be surrounded by your scent, his lips pressing kisses to the skin of your neck.

the thought brings him close, and renjun realizes he’s quickly losing the battle of trying to hold off. he’s letting out small whines muffled into his pillow, his tip leaking all over his pillow as he picks up his pace. he doesn’t even realize that you stopped talking.

when he’s about to cum, he lets out a whine higher than he means it to be, his fingers trying to quickly mute his phone. before he can, you ask, “are you gonna cum, renjun? gonna cum for me?”

a moan of your name slips out of him as his hips stutter against the pillow, cum spurting out of his tip as it stains the fabric. he can imagine your walls clenching around him, the sound of your voice moaning his name as you cum around him.

you can feel yourself throbbing, having to cross your legs together to try to stifle the need building up in you. you’re not sure if he’s aware of how loud he’s being, whines and moans taking up all the call. you burn them into your memory, trying to imagine just how good he looks right now.

when he comes down from his high, you can hear him let out an embarrassed groan. you laugh at him as he tries to shush you. “didn’t know you could get so horny,” he can imagine the grin on your face, “why did you even answer the call if you were getting off?”

“you called me twice,” he huffs, “what if you were in an emergency?”

“think it would be very unfortunate if i told you that i was in danger while you had your hand wrapped around your dick.”

“i wasn’t doing that!”

you make a confused noise, “but weren’t you jerking off?”

renjun realizes he’s made this worse for himself. he can't just tell you he was using a pillow to get off. he isn't even supposed to tell anyone that he was getting off, let alone his best friend. he tries brushing it off, "why do you even want to know? you're literally crazy."

you're silent on the other end, and he assumes it's probably best to hang up. he ends the call, letting his phone fall in front of him as he lets out an embarrassed sigh. how did that even happen? you probably won't ever like him back now.

except, his phone starts vibrating again. when he goes to pick it up, it's an incoming facetime call from you. he stares at himself through the phone, his pink cheeks on display as he reluctantly answers. he's greeted with the image of you, looking a little too desperate as you stare at renjun.

you shift up to show more of yourself to renjun, "i wanna- i wanna see what you were doing. i'll show you how i get off, i just- just need to see you."

how is he supposed to say no when he sees you squirming in your spot? he props his phone up, a slightly humiliated look on his face as he shows you the pillow he was grinding against. he sees a smile form on your face, watches how your eyes widen at the sight.

it's not fair that he's doing this alone. "i need to see you, fuck- need to see you so bad. i'm like this because of you."

and like you always do, you tease him with that pretty smile on your face, "show me."

taglist: @hamji-hae

#nct smut #nct dream smut #renjun smut #renjun x reader #renjun scenarios

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