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jwhoozi · 3 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤyour poet, your painㅤ౨ৎㅤ4.7k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©jwhoozi

synopsis. being mean to rafayel comes with cruel consequences, he makes sure to get you back always. (to my love, 5☆ rafayel card: your fragrance)

warning(s). nsfw, afab! reader, rafayel's characterisation being ?, does this count as a scent kink??? smth to do with smell... my rafayel babes get it, dirty talk, fingering, guided masturbation, orgasm denial, will he actually fuck?, answer is no, rafayel makes you finish what he started, not proof–read, petname: baby

from vyon. awkward.... so very awkward; first ever nsfw piece ever, be nice :3 i swear i've actually ingested a healthy amount of nsfw stuff but writing it has always been a different story and trust me, i've tried... but writing 'cock' in any sort of serious manner makes me giggle a little but rafayel has made this so serious for me, he's still a little silly at the end though. mmmgffff the want i have for him is carved into my bones and his name stirs an appetite in my teeth.

this was whipped up so quickly for no reason but it's definitely a style that i feel that took up its own life. it's so different from my usual prose and idk how i feel about it so take of that what you will. also!!!!!!!!! my requests for l&ds are open :3

do not repost / copy / translate.

Oh, he must think you're an idiot— your eyebrows furrowed, rolling your hand around the tie you've managed to wrap around his wrist; a little force and you've got him falling backwards onto his couch with a groan, pressing your knee between his thighs to keep him down. Rafayel winces, his head ducking down and his elbows withdrawn into his stomach. "You're being so rough," he complained, his eyes turning to look up through long lashes, "don't you know it's best to treat artists with care?"

Your lips tugged into a frown, unamused as your body hovered over his form, head tilted. "Come on, you can take a little rough handling, Rafayel." He's unmoving for a second, merely moving his eyes back down as his fingers laced together beside his head. The display makes you feel bad, like you were bullying a child or maybe a puppy; a sigh passes through your lips and you let go of one end of the tie. The material slips off his wrists, falling down his arms and catching in the bend of his elbow before you're pulling it back and Rafayel's moving his hands down to inspect his wrists.

Making a face at his sulk, you folded the tie up and brought your knee down as you watched him carefully massage his wrists with his fingers. Rafayel blows a soft breath on his left wrist, glancing up at you for a second like you'd wronged his family. "We both know it'd take a lot more than that to put an artist like you out of commission." You dryly retort, trying to shake off some of the sudden guilt that's beginning to stick to you.

The curtains of Rafayel's room are pulled close, the light soaked up by the swollen fabric, pooling at his wooden floor from the ceiling. Hues draped in red oozed onto his face, bubbles of shadows washing over every hurt feature as Rafayel rubbed circles over his wrist, stopping at intervals to blow a warm breath onto the skin. You shift awkwardly, eyebrows furrowed. "Rafayel," you try again, "put the tie on and let's go to the exhibition. Thomas is waiting."

"Help me," he demands, lips still stuck in that aggrieved pout as his hands fall into his lap. Rafayel's finger wrapped around his wrist as he straightened up, his shoulders falling as his eyes moved to the tie you held in your hand. "My hands are sore so intricate work like tying a tie will be tough."

Exasperation settled on your face as you studied him, eyes flickering from details of his expression, the suit you'd managed to encourage him to change into, his posture against the couch, what you think is the reddened skin of his wrists— which is probably from his endless massaging anyways, you didn't even tighten it that hard. A hissing intake of breath passes through your teeth, eyebrows falling as you begrudgingly draped the tie around his neck.

Fixing the length of the two ends under the collar of his white dress shirt, you allowed his weakened hands to fall onto your waist. You leaned forward to straighten out the back of his collar for a second, bumping his hand off your hip; you miss Rafayel's face scrunching up, seriousness tainting his feature as his head turns after your hand to chase that subtle scent again. Unaware of his predicament, you brushed the collar out and tucked the tie underneath the folded fabric before you're bringing your hand back.

Rafayel's fingers catch your wrist as it passes his face, bringing it back to him as he presses his nose into your flesh. "Rafayel?" You asked, attempting to pull your wrist from his gentle grip.

He groaned, tightening his hold almost immediately and tugging your hand further back. Rafayel's eyes closed, his head ducking down and his other hand going to pull at the neck of his shirt. A sort of troubled hum sounds deep from his throat, "this," he started, hesitantly, "it's familiar."

"My skin?" You laughed, amused at his words and his behavior. His nose tickled your palm, the tip tracing the many lines that could foretell your fate; a fluid movement you've seen made by dancers runs its course through Rafayel's head as he turned to trail his nose over your wrist. Something settled in your spine, shivering its way up and shouting danger through crevices of your brain as your eyes fell over the curve of his eyelids, closed over his eyes. You could only imagine what emotion could possibly be hidden behind the sensitive layer of skin, you feared the stutter that'd arise if he'd open his eyes to drown you in that tantalising coral sea. "Rafay—"

His eyebrows furrowed, head flinching away from the sound of your face. "The scent." He corrected, easily pulling you closer, your knees hit against the side of the couch as your front falls forward. "It's," he muttered, trailing off slightly as he fixed his other arm around you to settle you on one of his thighs. "Where'd you get it?"

"It was in one of the back offices, a sample." You scrambled out. You make a feeble attempt to pull any part of yourself away from him. Exhibition, Thomas, perfume, get Rafayel there— you remembered. The stretch of memory all fall apart when you feel the digging of Rafayel's fangs on the meaty palm under your thumb, he pulled away gently when you hissed, only leaving the tips of his canines on the skin and dragging his teeth across.

Rafayel's eyes leveled on you, the usual light colours of his iris unsaturated under the shadows of his lashes. "I don't like it," he moved himself forward after a second, bringing a hand to your chin to tilt your head to the side. He gives your neck the same attentiveness, each inhale leaves your neck cold; the threat of him sinking his teeth into your neck remains cruelly true, his lips brushed against your collarbone. "I hate it, are you trying to trick me?"

The confusion that Rafayel comes with, a roughening whiplash, you've accepted it as a part of his demeanour. Troubled artists, who really knows about the crazy lot? But. Rafayel moved even closer, as if trying to bury his nose into the cells of your body that the molecules of perfume stubbornly clung onto; his lips tugged down into a frown and eyebrows following the curve down; lashes tickled your skin and you squirm. You repeated his name again, it's a shredded truth of the matter, how Rafayel falls from between saliva soaked tastebuds, hungry teeth, wet lips like a plead, a beg.

"It won't happen," Rafayel mumbled, going off onto his own tangent. His eyes meet yours, mirroring a speckle of the delirium held at your waterline and his head tilted— confusion settled between the furrow of his brows, skin scrunched together.

Your hand makes the next move, the back of your fingers pressing against his neck as your index finger bent upwards to catch on his jaw. "Rafayel." The artist's head follows your hand, trailing after the lingering shed of perfume; you pinch the rim of his ears, massaging the cartilage until you're down to the lobe. "Ra'yel," your eyes flickered down to his face for a beat, curious of his expression. It's distant from you, features locked in a beat that seemed to be out of grasp— his eyes are hazy and unfocused, cheeks heated as you run the pad of your thumb over the line of his angular cheekbone.

Rafayel blinks slowly, his lips parted and you watched a hue of red light catch between his two front teeth, dripping down into his bottom lip menacingly as he leaned forward. A hand you haven't been paying attention to moved up from behind you, grabbing your collar and pulling it the side so he could sink his teeth into your collarbone. You squeezed your eyes shut, a hiss coming from between your teeth. "Smells so strong," he muttered against your skin, he scrunched his nose up and huffing slightly.

Each word he makes sounds as though he's squeezing it out of his throat, soaked in some unfortunate degree of effort.

The same hand slivered its attention downwards, fingers dancing over the fabric of your shirt, stabilises for a second; it becomes stern in its existence as it rubbed over the stitching of your shirt, which you both know isn't enough until his pinky dips under the hem of your shirt and the rest of his hand follows. Between the soft groaning, sucking sounds near your ear and the feeling of his nails lighting new paths for demons on your skin, you're not to sure what to focus on. Your mind stays on one thing. "Rafayel."

"I know, don't nag," he mumbled, his lips pressed just behind the lobe of your ear. "You're not so good at defending yourself, huh?" His teeth catch on the lobe at the same time his fingers knead down on the meat of your hips, he tugs on your ear and manages to worm his pinky past the waistband of both your trousers and underwear.

"Why would I try defending myself against this?" You strained out, a hum vibrating through your ribs, following the curve and paths of the bones and passed to your fingertips. Rafayel trailed the lowered hand to your front, fiddling messily with the button of your bottoms; his lips leave your skin in a flicker of annoyance after a few seconds, tugging out into that wronged pout. You shook your head, amused smile on your face as he refocuses his attention on the button.

"It seems as though your defence is up though."

You sighed, taking it upon yourself to unbutton your pants. "No, I think you're just weak."

"That's an unfair observation," he groaned. There was something charming about his troubled artist demeanour— how in these moments, desperation flooded his veins; you've seen it tainted in the curve of his back a few times, as he's mixing pigments, trying to figure out composition. A hand brushes through your hair, softly tilting your head backwards. "Are you really thinking of other things right now?" Hurt eyes meet yours, his chin tucking close to his neck as he curled his fingers in your hair. Neatly clipped nails glided across your scalp, splitting a line down to the nape of your neck, the movement warrants a shiver. You see it now. As he takes it upon himself to redirect your wandering attention, how Rafayel wants you clinging to every ministration, to make feeble attempts to swallow his words as he spits them.

His hands settled under your thigh, slipping over your ass with a gentle squeeze as he urged you to your knees. Settling your arms onto his shoulders, your legs part to settle beside his thighs as he pushed down the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a second, a sliver of your underwear showing as he glanced up. A flicker of amusement in his eyes, his head tilted in an almost trying way. "Didn't you say," he starts slow. "Nevermind," amusement and pleasure blurred on his face.

"Huh?"

Rafayel shook his head, continuing on like he hadn't said anything; he leaned forward and catches the lace hugging your stomach with his teeth, pulls his head back and lets it go. It snaps back against your skin and he chases to press a kiss over it. The material of your trousers makes it awkward to take off in the position you're in, you slide back to plant your feet onto the floor, kicking off your shoes and the pants not a beat later. Rafayel leaned forward, pressing a few kisses over the front of your panties. "Smells better here," he kept an arm wrapped around your thighs as he tilted his head up.

Your face heated up, eyes widening as you struggled to push his head back from you. "Don't just say that—!" You struggle to find a common ground between the sheer embarrassment and throbbing need that burns through layers of skin at Rafayel's lips through the thin fabric. His nose pressed up against the elastic as your lips dipped into a subtle pout— what a bad habit he's got, playing with his food; it's nothing foreign to you but this soft tenderness has you staggered, breathless.

Rafayel merely settled you down onto his lap, shifting himself forward a little to lean back and spreaded his legs so yours followed. Your bare thighs brushed against the smooth leather of the couch, you gave a small shudder and Rafayel plants a firm hand on the side of your thigh, his fingers pressing into the flesh and kneading. He leaned in, his lips landing tenderly on yours. Everything that was your voice died on the dried friction of his lips against yours, new nerves light up through your skin; his teeth nip at your bottom lip, pulling back a little before he's surging forward again, his tongue directing.

Your stomach dipped with a gasp, hands falling on Rafayel's shoulders for some sense of stability; your fingers dug up from the nape of his neck to his roots, catching darkened strands in curves and tilting his head back as you shifted to your knees to dip your head further down. You take one of Rafayel's groan as your own, passing it through your system as oxygen and tugging for more.

His hands pressed against the curve of your side, pulling back from the kiss. "I'm not going anywhere," he offered, his voice soft and indulgent. You narrowed your eyes at him, but that's it. Eager fingers unfurl, patting down strands of messy hair that stuck out defiantly until they settled back onto his shoulders; you leaned back down onto his lap— the spreading of his legs forcing you to be practically hovering. Rafayel leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. In the lighting of his bedroom, his hair isn't purple at all— a few shades too dark to discern the pretty hue it shines under the sun; his hair sticks between your forehead and stabs onto your eyelid, making you wince. "Better." He moved his chin forward, tilting his head as he goes to press another kiss against your lips.

Rafayel's unwavering desire to control the timing and pace of your intimate moments is anything but annoying in the second; his fingers are warm, calloused across odd scars on your body and textured flesh. A flicker of unfamiliarity settles in your mouth, Rafayel's tongue, calm and slow; he's unusually methodical— like you had all the time in the world. "Wait—" You pushed yourself off of him, the realisation dawning on you. "You sneaky bastard, we need to—"

Rafayel blinks at you as your body practically stuttered back against him and a helpless whine passes through softened lips, "need to?" He repeated calmly, waiting for you to clarify like he hadn't just ran his nail right over your clit. You furrowed your eyebrows, forehead leaning on his shoulder; Rafayel noted the troubled expression on your face and pressed the pad of his middle finger over your darkened underwear, dragging a line down the slit. "You know you work for me right, baby?" He hummed, his other hand wrapping around your side to slide the joint of his fingers over the curved bone of your back. "There's no need to listen to what other men want you do to."

Your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto, falling back onto the couch just until he's repeating the movement with two fingers, adding a new motion to the beat as he rubbed circles over your sensitive clit. Then your hands returned to his shoulders, fingers falling to catch his sleeve as your teeth caught onto your lip. A flickering of annoyance comes drowned with pleasure, his words echo in your mind, blossoming a whole new phrase: there's no need for it when you're mine. The reminder's wholy unnecessary, you've known that for a while. Every crevice you've kept hidden from prying eyes had spurned some deluded hour of sudden inspiration; the colour of your eyes sparkling wet with tears when you're on your knees, he's spent hours trying to replicate with coral and seashells; the signature of his work pressed into the ribs that hide beneath your breast; the stability of your entire being hammered out with keys made to stretch the canvas. It's all there, stained with his fingerprints.

Your thighs make a sudden jump to snap close when Rafayel circled his fingers back down, his thumb pushing the wet fabric aside and inspecting his work. He makes a dissatisfied hum, keeping your legs open with his legs; the fabric of his slacks run warm against your bare thighs. No sense of guilt or shame traceable in his strokes, Rafayel pushed down on your cunt with his middle finger; you wondered if he worked on his paintings in the same way, without the smallest sense of hesitation? In the same way that Rafayel saw his paintings as something he didn't truly own, he saw you, undeniably, as his. Why wouldn't you be? Every detail, every crack, crevice, flaw, perfection that was sculpted together was his to be claimed— you snapping your hips closer to his fingers was all the evidence.

The delicious, burning, stretch that comes with him pressing two fingers into your cunt is welcomed with a high–pitched whine.

"You're unusually quiet," Rafayel commented, curling his hand to press the butt of his palm up so you could grind your clit against his hand. "How was work, any more of my paintings nearly kill you?"

"Are you seriously—" He pushes the remaining length of his fingers in, your words break apart into a whimper as your head leaned back. Rafayel's free hand is idle around your waist, helping you keep yourself balanced. "Don't make— fuck," you breathed out, "small talk, Rafayel."

"Yeah cause you're already talking enough for both of us." He pointed out with a hum. His fingers keep at you steadily, sometimes pausing when his digits were settled nicely into your walls so you could roll your clit against his palm.

You feel his fingers spread out inside you slightly, "haven't even said anything." You raised your hips, meeting his thrusts as you turned to settle your forehead against Rafayel's shoulder.

"Your cunt." Rafayel corrected himself after hearing you, "you're so wet." He allowed for a moment of silence, beneath the sound of heavy panting, fabric and material rubbing against each other, you do hear the wet sound of him sinking his fingers into you. "It's been drowning out the sound of your phone ringing for a while, you think Thomas is going to come?"

Any chance of you offering back a coherent reply dies, awakening a strangled cry from the depths as Rafayel fastened his pace. You straightened in his lap, throwing your arms around him to fist the back of his cotton jacket into your hands, "Ra'yel, so good—" You hear distantly like it wasn't your own voice as his thumb snapped awake to precisely rub against your clit.

A pool collects in the curve of Rafayel's hand— a scent he's much more familiar with, a consistency that has his senses dulling as his tongue swiped across his lips. Rafayel's eyes flickered to you, hanging from him like seaweed wrapped around his body before it turned to your phone, left haphazardly in the pocket of your pants on the floor. Your moans turn a degree higher, octave after octave; he sees summer in how you called out some messy variation of his name. "'M gonna cum, gonn—" You squeezed your arms around him.

He tucked his face into your shoulder, a fleeting kiss on your collarbone as he brings his fingers out. Your pre–cum clings to his fingers as he moved back, begging him to come back as you whined and a sob nearly falls from your lips as he denies you of that high. "No, no, Rafayel, please." You're frantic, pushing yourself back from his chest and chasing his fingers with your hips. "Please, was so close."

"Sorry, baby," he gives you what looks like an apologetic look through your blurry eyes, his clean hand falls onto your cheek to wipe away a stray tear. "My wrist still really hurts from what you did."

Your face falls, grieved. You hold his hand against your cheek, keeping it there as you turned your face to press a kiss onto his wrist. "No, 'm sorry," you urged. "Please, Rafayel, need you so bad."

A beat of nothing and a lifetime settled with the space built between you two, your hips uselessly rutting against air. The feel of lukewarm slick that he drags against your thigh, as if trying to massage it in, so close to where you really need him. So, so close to where your cunt has been restored to be his. Nothing is audible but the sound of your pleaing, trying to coax him back to where you needed him.

After a moment, his eyes flickered back to you, the tainted hues all swimming together as they looked on in amusement. "D'you mind showing me?" His eyebrows raised up, his eyes bordering cruel and his lips twitching upwards into a subtle smile. You meet his suggestion with a frown, shaking your head as your mouth opened to reject the idea and work on another pathetic beg. "Just try it," he pressed, giving your cheek a gentle stroke. "Take care of yourself for a moment, baby."

A breath bursts from you, it's all oxygen you need gone and your lungs fill with the useless waste product as his wet hand tangled with yours. Your thigh burns cold where he parts with it but the heat from his palm against yours spreads flames down to soothe the loss; he taps his finger against the back on your hand and then turns it to press a kiss against the back. Then he unlaces your fingers, your own juices create a web between your two palms, momentarily connecting your life lines before the threads snaps and he's gently holding the back of your hand.

Each of Rafayel's finger is bent over yours as he guides you down the path he took to shatter you. It makes you cringe to feel his wet fingers against yours, your fingers twitched as he brings you down right down to the source; the same substance sticking to the tips of your fingers as he helps you start. "You like it when I brush just under your clit, here." Rafayel offhandedly offers as he pulls your hand up, your finger pressed against slick skin. He watches your face as you reached the point he was speaking of and satisfaction blossoms on his face when your mouth falls open, choking on a breath.

Your thigh twitches from the simple touch, your head rolling over to your own shoulder for some support. His grip loosens a little, his fingers trailling up your arm. "You can take it from here right baby?" The tease behind his voice isn't meant to be ignored as he leaned back, head tilted down to keep his eyes on your shaky hand. "I pushed my wrist too far with that."

Your hand feels out of place for some reason, pierced through as it hung between your thighs. Sensing hesitation, Rafayel lands his hand on your knee, his thumb brushing over the skin and you can see his long middle finger just in the corner of your eyes. You pushed a finger into yourself, face scrunching up at the change in length and girth. "S'not enough," another finger pushed in and still, still the length is missing. Your knee is squeezed, urging you to continue.

You try to make up the lacking aspects of your own fingers compared to Rafayel's with some focus onto your clit but Rafayel swats your other hand away, holding it at your hip. "No, keep going like this for me." There's no other choice in the matter, your lip catches between teeth, falling whenever a gasp or moan wanted to pass through. It's agony, it's the unrelenting ache in your back, it's the jacket caught onto your doorknob, it's your toe to a corner; burning pain that shocks you to a degree of anger, annoyance. You work through it regardless— the world doesn't stop despite how it feels like it stutters.

Rafayel is a mere few inches away from you, his hands are on you but he wasn't touching you in the way you wanted; the world is still turning. With you struggling to work yourself up to the point that Rafayel got you to before, his hands rubbing up and down your thigh, and his soft praises in your ear— the world is, cruelly, still in its orbit. "I can't do this," you breathed out, pushing your fingers in, your knuckles sit flush against your entrance. "Rafayel," a mere mumble has him sucking in a sharp breath; the next sentence shatters the anatomy of his being and he feels foreign to land and sea. "I can't do this without you."

It falls from your lips with a whimper, multiple breath catches in Rafayel's throat, your eyebrows are furrowed and lips slightly parted as you panted slowly, wetting your dried lips and pressing them close to swallow some saliva. "Ra'yel, please don't make me finish without you." You knew just how to catch him, how enticing your words were to smell from upstream.

Without missing another beat, he has his hand cupped over yours near your entrance and pushes another finger in between yours. The satisfied moan you pass through your lips is then swallowed as Rafayel brings you into a open mouth kiss, threatening to swallow each and every breath you take as to not waste anything that was any bit of you. It takes him a few moments to adjust to having an obstruction in his way but he manages to set a pace like before and you follow, chanting his name stupidly. "I'm right here," Rafayel groaned back, "sorry I made you wait."

"S'okay," the syllables are tainted with saliva and some slur, any words that weren't 'Rafayel' uncomfortable to sit on tongue even for a moment before they passed on.

You snapped forward, a cry breaking through you as he used the butt of his palm to work your palm onto your clit. "You can't make me wait either," he muttered, leaning his head down to kiss your neck. "You're close, keep squeezing me and I'll lose my finger."

When it comes to you, he's never wrong. The air thickens, a mixture of panting, squelching, kissing messily bouncing around Rafayel's room; his finger takes a different course from your fingers, suddenly curling and his nail lightly scratches against your silk walls. You curled onto yourself, fingers pulling out of your entrance that Rafayel plugged up with another digit; he shushes your cries, working it through your high with his thrusts slow.

Your head leans on his shoulder, chest falling and rising as Rafayel used his feet to pick up your trousers on the floor so he could wipe his fingers. You watched this with judgement but couldn't find it in yourself to say anything as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Are you tired?" Slightly sticky hands massaged your hips, Rafayel's voice a slow humming that allows the tension to shed from you. You give him a nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"Will you clean me up?" You're not sure if you're pushing your luck at this point. Nothing is said for a moment but then he's fixing his arms underneath your ass as he hoists you up.

"I'm tired," he speaks, that comforting aspect of his voice from before gone as he moved to his bathroom. "And you really did hurt my wrists, what if you forced me to over–exert them and now they're sprained?" You furrowed your eyebrows, you should have just thrown him over your shoulder instead of trying to tie his hands up. "How will you take responsibility if my hands are ruined?"

#౨ৎ rafayel single!#౨ৎ l&ds single!#love and deepspace oneshot #love and deepspace #l&ds #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel smut #rafayel oneshot

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suiana · 10 months

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------Thirsty Imagine incoming---

Imagine Yan! Cult Leader railing you Infront his followers for a 'ritual' LIKE DNSBADNSJA

Blushing and kicking my feet rn🤭

cw: nsfw, stockholm syndrome or smth idk, god complex??? idk reader got brain washed by cult leader

he thrusts into you relentlessly, rutting into you at a ferocious pace as your hands held onto his shoulders tightly. your breath was laboured from the amount of times he had came in you already, body itching for rest. yet your cult leader had other plans in mind.

"my deity- ngh~ w-we're doing this because of a ritual to cleanse you-! so we can't stop... you understand, right?"

words laced with sarcasm dropped from his lips as he sucked and marked your neck, greedily taking in every part of you. his pace never slowed, still as fast and rough as ever. his hands held your hips tightly, bruising them as his cock hits your sweet spot over and over.

you could only let out tired moans in response, nodding slightly as you stared into those eyes of his. clouded with arousal and devotion they were, and they were all directed to you. you were his deity, the one he worships with all his heart. so who were you to reject this wonderful role? especially when you loved him just as much as he loved you?

it didn't matter whether he fucked you in front of a crowd, and it most certainly did not matter that he had the nerve to claim that this was for a ritual. because you were in love with him. your beloved worshipper. and he had been so diligent in his worshipping! of course you had to repay his devotion.

and what better way than to reassure him of his position as your favourite devotee?

#suiana's sinners #yandere cult leader #yandere cult leader x reader #suiana brainrotting #suiana rambling #yandere #yandere drabbles #yandere x reader

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worldlxvlys · 4 months

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can u do smut with dwb where y/n is like obsessed with his birthmark on his back, idk smth like that please 😭😭😭

deal

dwb! chris x reader

warnjngs: smutttt (don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable), dry humping, p in v, slight overstimulation

dwb! chris masterlist

a/n: i hope i did your request justice :)

“ come ON chris, pleaseeee let me see it”

“i don’t get what’s so special about it, it’s just a birthmark”

“yes it is. and i want to see it” i said, trying to get him to turn around.

“what’s in it for me?” he asked with a smirk.

“seriously chris?” i deadpanned.

“you’re the one who wants to see it so bad” he said, crossing his arms.

“how about we make a deal?” i ask, an idea forming in my head.

“i’m listening” he gestured for me to go on.

“i’ll dry hump you. if you cum first, i get to admire your birthmark without your judgment or commentary. if i cum first, you can tell me i’m weird and do whatever you want to me. deal?”

“you have yourself a deal, ma” he said, putting his hand out to shake. i move his hand away, shaking my head.

“fuck that” as i pull him closer by his shirt, our noses touching.

“gotta seal the deal properly” i say, my lips brushing against his before bringing his lips to mine.

i love kissing chris. his lips are always so soft and they mold with mine perfectly.

he tilts his head, deepening the kiss and pulls me onto his lap. i silently thanked my past self for deciding to wear a skirt today.

i start to move my hips back and forth as chris’s hands slide under my skirt to grab onto my ass, helping to guide my movements.

i could feel his bulge through his sweatpants and my panties, which were now forming a wet spot.

“shit ma, you’re so fucking wet” he said between kisses.

“all for you chris” i said as i laced my fingers in his hair, giving the roots a firm tug.

“fuck ma” he said, his hips bucking up into mine.

i brought my mouth to his ear, giving it a kiss and whispering “you like that chris?”

“you’re driving me crazy, baby” he said, looking up at me.

“good” we went back to sloppily pressing our lips together, moaning into each others mouths.

suddenly, he pulls away.

“need to be closer to you, ma. is it still dry humping if only one of us has our underwear on?” 

“who gives a fuck” i say, as i help him out of his sweatpants and boxers.

without a second of hesitation, i sat on his dick and started to grind even quicker this time.

“holy shitttt ma” he groaned as he grabbed my hips.

“fuck yes chris, you feel so fucking good”

i looked down at his fucked out face, his lips swollen, pupils dilated, and eyes glazed over with lust. his hair had fallen slightly over his eyes and his face was red.

“shit chris, you look so fucking good under me”

he closed his eyes momentarily, soaking in the pleasure before opening them again.

“you look so good, lookin’ down at me like that ma”

as i started to get closer to my high, i realized that i might finish before chris. but i couldn’t let him win.

“hmm look at my baby, humping me like this. so dirty” nothing makes chris finish quicker than dirty talk.

“ughhh ma” he groaned.

“yeah? you like the way my pussy feels through my underwear?”

“know you can feel how wet i am”

“imagine how it’s gonna feel when my cum is seeping through my panties and onto you”

i sped up my motions, wanting him to crack.

“i know you’re close, chris”

“gonna cum on yourself like a little slut?”

“imagine if your pants were still on, baby” i chuckled. “you would have came in your pants”

the only thing leaving his mouth was moans.

i leaned my forehead onto his, looking deep into his eyes.

“c’mom baby, give it to me. give me your cum” i whispered against his lips.

with that, his hips shot forward and hot cum spurted out of his tip and onto his shirt.

he could tell i was close and, without missing a beat, he pulled my underwear to the side and thrusted up into me.

“fuckk chris” i screamed.

“hmmmmmmmm” he whined, eyes furrowed as he pushed through the sensitivity, wanting me to cum.

“fuck, c’mon princess. know you’re close, gonna give it to me?”

he continued to fuck up into me, like his life depended on it.

“yes yes yes yessss chris. g-gonna cum”

“mmm give it to me, baby” my head flew back, hands gripping onto his biceps as my orgasm racked through my body.

he gave a few more sloppy thrusts, fucking me through my high, before stopping.

“jesus christ, ma”

“hmmm looks like you lost, baby” i said, falling forward into his chest.

“after that? you can look at whatever you want ma.”

——————

<333

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tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @sosmatt

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo texts #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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genderlessdude92 · 14 days

Text

FORGIVENESS

Angst-Fluff one shot

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader

SUMMARY: Alastor's work at the Hazbin Hotel keeps him preoccupied, leading to neglect in his relationship with Y/N. An argument later on arises, causing both to confront their feelings. Ultimately, they reconcile, promising to communicate better in the future. The story emphasizes the importance of understanding and communication in relationships.

WARNINGS: Reader is a sensitive little baby (っ◞‸◟c) (sorry not sorry), Story gets angsty but there is a happy ending with fluff yay, Neglect, established relationship (as seen above), takes place in present-day hell, reader and Alastor live in a manor-type house idk i would imagine him rich or smth, don’t imagine the manor like a richie rich mansion manor just…yk. emotional turmoil, verbal conflict, depiction of emotional distress, Relationship strain, mild violence (not physical), Reference to a soul bond (which is in most of my fics bc i feel like if Alastor really married anybody they would own each other’s souls idk what i’m doing shut up). Angel says an Angel-type sentence in the bonus writing. LMK if I missed anything <\3. This fix is rushed because i got a lot of good comments on my last one and i felt confident but i don’t anymore so L.

WORDS: 1.3k (with a side fic not counted)

!!TRANSLATING MY WORK OR COPYING IS NOT APPRECIATED!! (But thanks for liking it :3)

It was a typical morning in the manor of Alastor, the radio demon. The sun had barely broken over the horizon, hell’s birds were chirping, and the smell of coffee wafted through the halls. Alastor, as always, was in the kitchen sipping on his cup of coffee and writing down some ideas for the Hazbin Hotel. Y/N, his wife, was sitting across from him, her hair perfectly styled, just freshly taken out of curlers. But she was still in her damp robe from showering in the morning.

Alastor glanced up at her, a small smile on his face. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over him every time he looked at her. She was his wife, his partner, and his everything. They had been married for what felt like eternity, even though they had only been married since 1936. They had met in their previous life, both living in the same city, but they didn't truly fall in love until they met again in hell.

Y/N let out a small sigh from across the table, causing Alastor to look up from his notes once again.

But today, something was off between them. Well, more-so recently. He could tell that something was bothering her, her usually bright eyes filled with sadness. Without a word, he reached over and grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked at him, offering a small smile in return. But Alastor could see right through it, he knew something was weighing heavy on her mind.

“Everything alright darling?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N pondered for a moment, “…It’s nothin’, don’t needa worry, okay?” She reassured, her voice faltering a bit at the end.

Alastor sat back in his seat, his expression turning serious. “…You know i won’t let this slide, dear.” he reassured her.

Y/N nodded, the feeling of unease in the pit of both their stomachs. Alastor seemed sincere, but something in his gut told him that this was more to be a serious matter.

With a wider, more forced smile, Y/N stood up from the table, “I'm going to go get ready for the day…” she said before quickly leaving the kitchen.

Alastor watched her go, a frown appearing on his face. He hated seeing Y/N like this, but he didn't want to harp her and overwhelm her.

As the week went on, Alastor couldn't shake the feeling that he was neglecting his wife.

Charlie had been giving him countless tasks at the hotel, since Lucifer told her it was good to overwork the big guys just a little bit.

psh.

Probably because Lucifer isn’t even big.

Even when he got to work from home, they were still just ghosts to each other.

Even the dinner was cold.

“Sweetheart…” Alastor called from his seat.

She looked over to him after a moment, waiting if he would say anything else, “What’s wrong, Al?”

She silently asked.

“…The dinner tastes… different?…tonight?” Alastor tried to say with a sincere aspect. Maybe Alastor could help her with the cooking?

“…oh um…I’m sorry…”

Fuck.

“No, no- it’s fine! um…be a deer and… just microwave it, okay?” Alastor reassured with a cheery smile.

Y/N paused from working at the stove to look at him and then his plate before walking over to him and doing as he said-

quietly.

“…So…acid rain today, huh?” Alastor began to start some conversation, “-must have been a bummer.”

“…the last petunias died in the yard.” Y/N replied.

Later that evening, Alastor and Y/N were in their bedroom getting ready for bed. Y/N was brushing out her hair while Alastor was sitting at his vanity, humming a tune to himself. But his cheerful demeanor quickly changed when he looked up at Y/N's reflection in the mirror.

Her bottom was lip trembling, and she had to stop in between her brushes to take a deep breath. Alastor could feel a pang of guilt in his chest, knowing that he was most likely the cause of her sadness. He quickly stood up and walked over to her, “Darling, what's wrong?” he asked, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

Y/N turned around to face him and that's when it happened. “Just leave me alone, Alastor. You obviously haven’t been wanting to…i- interact with me recently.” She stated, “I’m doing you a favor.”

Alastor's frustration and guilt boiled over. “What do you want from me, Y/N? I have a lot on my plate right now and your attitude is really bothering me.” He replied, his tone harsh and genuine, alongside his smile that was tight and annoyed.

“You should really act your age for once, Y/N.”

She froze.

‘Act her age?’

“…I’m sorry I can’t be perfect all the time, Alastor.” She snapped back.

Alastor was to reply but she cut him off- “I’m sorry I have flaws.” She let her tears spill. Ones she didn’t even know she was barricading

“No, no- Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that-” Alastor started, but Y/N quickly was already opening the door to their bedroom, leaving Alastor alone with his thoughts.

He sat down at her vanity, wanting to inspect what she could’ve made her react like that. An object? maybe a broken object? A letter?

But nothing could have stopped him from staring at his reflection with shame and regret.

He had never gave Y/N harmful comments like that before, and he knew, always knew that words like that could deeply hurt Y/N. He had let his emotions get the best of him,

-and now he feared he may have damaged their relationship.

But he refused to let it end like this.

He quickly got up and went to find her, searching through their shared household. When he reached the living room, he could see her curled up on the couch, her face buried in one of the throw-pillows as she sobbed softly.

Alastor's heart broke at the sight, he had never seen Y/N like this before. He sat down next to her and slowly and softly began to rub his claw on her back through the silk nightgown she was wearing.

'I'm sorry, Y/N.”, He started. He stopped rubbing her for a moment to hear or see a reaction.

Nothing.

He continued, “I didn't mean it, I was just upset- things like this don’t happen, often, you understand…my emotions just got to me.” he whispered, his voice full of regret.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes still spilling tears, “I know you didn't mean it, Alastor. But it still hurt me…I can’t just be p-perfect all the time,”' she mumbled with a hiccup, slowly sitting up. “I’m afraid there’s a reason that you haven’t been around me an-“

Alastor hushed her, “I understand, darlings…work got the best of me i suppose…”

Alastor pulled her into his warm embrace, holding her tightly as he buried his face in her hair. “-I promise I’ll never, ever, do that again. I understand that sometimes we all can act differently depending on the atmosphere, and I just didn’t bring that to mind at first,” Alastor noted, his demeanor wavering in his voice, “I’ll never forget this conversation, Y/N…”

“I can't lose you.”

Y/N pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes locking with his. “I could never l-leave you, Al.” she whispered before pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

From that day on, Alastor made an effort to be more open with Y/N, to share his troubles and concerns with her instead of bottling them up. And in return, Y/N opened up more to him, sharing her fears and worries.

Nothing could tear them apart.

Mostly because they most likely have bonded souls but you know what i mean.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

BONUS !! (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

(450-500 words)

After the heartfelt conversation and reconnection with Alastor, Y/N decided to surprise him one day at the Hazbin Hotel with lunch. She spent the morning preparing Alastor's favorite dishes, humming to herself as she worked in the kitchen.

Once the food was ready, Y/N packed it neatly into a picnic basket and headed to the hotel.

As she entered the lobby, she was greeted by Charlie, who smiled warmly at her. "Hey, Y/N! What brings you here today?" Charlie asked, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

Charlie and Y/N had known each other since after that big battle with the angels. Like the good housewife Y/N usually was, she offered to help heal and mend to the hotel staff’s wounds. From then on, the staff just knew her as, ‘a second mom’ of sorts.

Y/N grinned, holding up the picnic basket. "I brought lunch for Alastor. Thought I'd surprise him," she replied. Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement. "That's so sweet of you! I'm sure he'll love it. Let me take you to his office," she offered, leading the way down the bustling hallway.

When they reached Alastor's office, Charlie knocked on the door before opening it, revealing Alastor seated behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork.

"Alastor, you have a visitor!" Charlie announced with a sing-song like voice. Alastor looked up, a surprised expression crossing his face when he saw Y/N standing in the doorway, holding the picnic basket. His eyes lit up with delight, and he quickly set aside his paperwork, standing up to greet her.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he exclaimed, stepping forward to give Y/N a hug. "A surprise lunch visit from my lovely wife. You've outdone yourself, darling." Y/N chuckled, returning his embrace. "I thought you could use a break from all that paperwork. Plus, um… I wanted to spend some time with you, if that’s okay." she replied, placing the picnic basket on his desk.

Alastor's smile widened, “Of course, dear. Anytime i’m around you is like a gift sent from the overlords.”

As he opened the basket, he was revealed to see the delicious spread Y/N had prepared. "You truly are too good to me, Y/N," he said, pulling out a sandwich and taking a bite. As they enjoyed their lunch together.

Y/N noticed Charlie just awkwardly standing there, spacing out. “Charlie, dear, do you want some?”

Charlie snapped out of her trance, “Oh- no, uh, that’s okay! I’ll leave you two to it.” He gave them a thumbs up before leaving to the hallways of the hotel.

As she walked out of his office, she was surprised to see Angel and Husk standing next to each other, watching the whole things.

“So…since husk ain’t bettin’ it…” Angel began, a mishcevious mood setting in,

“…you wanna bet how loud they’ll get?”

NOTE: Second fic woohoo!!! This fic, although, was a bit rushed and i was feeling really confident in the beginning because i got SO MUCH great comments and support (tysm (,,•́ω ก̀,,) in the that fic…but then i lost a tiny amount of motivation…overtime. But i couldn’t just stop writing…my OCD wouldn’t like that (♥︎ω♥︎ ) ~♪ Also when Y/N was humming in the bonus story in the kitchen…100% was humming to a song that played on the broadcast the night before i just didn’t wanna add it in…REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! >:3

…support is appreciated

-Genderlessdude92, Kiki

MY MASTERLIST!! (Click me :D)

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife reader #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

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xob1tchs · 1 year

Note

wait a ethan x reader but the reader is chad and mindys sister or cousin or smth ik it’s really vague sorry 😭

trust me i

fem!reader x ethan landry

warnings; short smut, oral (f receiving), kissing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mentions of killing chad & mindy, foreshadowing that Ethan was ghost face, unedited so spelling and grammar errors!

a/n; title inspo 😸 and idk if u wanted smut or not but that’s what I know to write like “the best” even if I’m not the greatest, but i hope u enjoy nonetheless!

Your back is aching form the position you’re in, and the porcelain sink below you makes your ass hurt, but who are you to complain when your legs are over broad shoulders and Ethan landry has his head between your thighs, while a frat party rages on below the pair of you.

You find yourself whining, hips grinding against his hungry mouth, toes curling in your boots. The noises he’s making are obscene, slurping and sucking at your folds, swallowing down the sweet goo leaking from your core. His tongue is working you like a hungry beast, perfect nose pressed right against your clit, abusing the aching bud with a never ending stream of pressure.

Your eyes begin to roll back in your head when he slips a finger in, and you have to tangle your own in his curly hair, tugging him away from you with a frustrated groan “Don’t make me cum yet, y’know how I want it” he flashes you a wicked grin at the bold words, lips swollen and red, slick making them shine like a gloss, that’s covered his nose and trailed down his chin — actually dripping off to stain the collar of his graphic tee.

He rises from the ground, even taller than he normally is with the way you’re leant back, and so so pretty like this. With his hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead with the heat of your arousal, and the icky frat house, cheeks flushed and eyes all shiny. The shirt he’s decided to wear is also doing him immense favors, some sort of comic book strip, but it looks as if it could be a size too small, and stops just above the button of his jeans; hugging his biceps tightly around the hem of the short sleeves, stretching over his wide chest.

“I don’t like it when you stare at me like that” he cock a brows, hands slipping under your dress,groping at the meaty skin of your hips, before his fingers loop in your absolutely ruined lace panties, and he tugs them down your legs – not so slyly slipping them into his back pocket.

Your pout up at him, legs spreading widely, teasing him with the view up your skirt “how am I staring at you?” you bat your lashes innocently, excitement filling your chest when his fingers begin undoing his belt, slowly dragging his zipper down; flashing you a view of his raging hard-on, beneath the fabric of red Calvin Klein boxers.

His fingers slip past the silver elastic band, and he groans, eyebrows creasing as he tugs his cock out for you to admire. He wraps his fist around the base, squeezing, head falling back in the process, before he tugs languidly — precum dribbling down the length, smearing when it meets his movements. You bite your bottom lip, eyes watching in wonder, drool pooling in the back of your throat that makes you swallow thickly.

“you stare at me like- like you want to eat me”

“well maybe i do” you smile, like butter wouldn’t melt, watching the his fist tightens at your words.

When his cock is thoroughly coated with his precum, shiny and incredibly hard, his makes haste in shuffling forward, pressing the head right against your entrance; stretching you open with ease, choking at the way your pussy wraps around the most sensitive part of his lenth, wallowing in the wetness and warmth.

“Y’know chad and Mindy will kill you – we need to be quick” he looks from the view between yours legs to your face, hand creeping up your body until it wraps around your throat, applying slight pressure before his hips jut forward and his cock plunged into you at once, pulling a surprised gasp from you; that he swallows down when he tugs you forward, lips smashing into yours in favor.

“Mhm, or maybe I’ll kill Mindy and chad before they ever find out” he breathes into your mouth, and even with his cock stuffed deep inside of you, abusing your cunt with every hard thrust you still hear the words clear as day – your eyes jump open and you let out a cry of pleasure, heart seizing in your chest at the implications behind his words. There was no way Ethan could be a ghostface.

At least that’s what you tell yourself when you cream on his cock, body shaking in pleasure, mind muddled with him and only him.

#scream iv #scream 6 #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream smut #🖤 ; lex talks 2 anons!#my inbox 🫧

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beary-rambles · 24 hours

Text

Distractions

Summary: Despite how close the two of you are you're sick of waiting around for Jace no matter how much you like him, so you decide you’re going out on a date! but he doesn't like that.

r.q: childhood friends to lovers with modern frat boy Jace and he's like rlly popular and known to go from girl to girl. reader is like really smart and different from Jace so people get surprised when they find out you two are really close. Jace is always dragging you to parties and you’re always at his football games and he gets really protective over you. idek where im going with this 😭 but w smut too, your fics are acc amazing ty for your work 🙏

w.c: 2.5k

c.w: reader has hair (unspecified type, could be a wig wtv), Jace's anger issues, idk what locker rooms look like, cregan <3, fingering (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), not proofread (as always)

a.n: I CANT STOP WRITING FOR JACE every request of him i get becomes my priority, literally when i woke up and saw this i had to get to writing it immediately like there’s smth wrong w me, anyways hope you all enjoy <3, this ones probably not my best T_T

masterlist

Knocking on the door cuts through the music playing out of your speaker while your getting ready. “Come in.” you already know who it is. Your longtime best friend and housemate Jace who comes in with a smile on his face before it turns to shock as he looks you up and down, “woah.”

You finish clamping your necklace around your neck and look at him, “what do you want?” He leans against the door with his arms crossed with an amused look. you ignore how your heart flutters at him and turn away to adjust the dress you currently had on. “i just wanted to tell you im about to head out for the game, its a little odd to get all dressed up for a football game no?” The looks falls from his face as you drop your gaze from his in the mirror and fiddle around with your hair. he says your name breathlessly as he pushes away from the frame and takes a step into the room. You finally lift your head and meet his gaze in the mirror. “I'm not going to the game tonight Jace.”

He flinches as if you had thrown something at him and stutters for a moment his face covered in pure confusion as he brings one of his hands to his neck. “what do you mean you're not coming? you always come! if this is about me eating your leftovers then im sorry i thought you left it for me-” “i have a date.”

There it is. You didn't want to tell him. Hes always been, well a little protective of you, but you mostly blame it on your introverted personality while he's more of a people person. Youve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember but he's never been interested in you not the way you wanted him to be anyways, barely staying single or without a girl on his arm for a second you don't even know the girls names or maybe that's the point. He doesn't bring them around you but you know he's with them when he returns home super late with his hair all messed up. You fear he does it on purpose, he must know you like him and he doesn't bring them around you to make you upset.

You really didn’t want to tell him. You had thought maybe he would have just left for the pregame and just shot you a text and you could have faked some sickness or have pretended to go to sleep early. You walk over to your bed sit down grabbing your shoes to put them on. His silence is off putting. and you don’t dare raise your head to look at him.

“with who?” “This guy from lab, mark.” you finish lacing your shoes and stand up, finally looking at him and noticing the blank look on his face. “Jace-” “I don’t like this. i mean i don’t even know the guy how do we know he’s not some serial killer or something? Mark? Why don’t you just push it off for a couple days, come to the game and ill find out if he’d a good guy-” “I'm going whether you like it or not.” you cut him off. You couldn’t let him stop you from forgetting about him even if it was just for a bit. You grab your purse moving to push past him only for him to grab your arm. “Jace-” “You look beautiful.” The skin where he was holding you burns. You don't say anything as he lets you go and keeps his back turned to you. “text me?”

You try to ignore the pit that forms in your stomach at his sudden change of tone. you want to say something to him, you’re not used to seeing him like this. he would usually be pestering you about how you he asked you out or did you really like him but he was quiet. The sound of a horn outside brings you back to reality and you nod at his back as if he could see you and walk out. Putting on a fake smile as your handed a nice bouquet of flowers from mark, gulping to try and swallow the pit in your stomach.

—

“who the hell does this guy think he is?” His fist slams into the wall of lockers he's pacing in front of. All his gear is put on, his helmet is laying on the bench next to cregan who can only watch his best friend act like an idiot with an annoyed face. “Who the hell are you to care? Her boyfriend? No. So you have no say in it.” Jace bites his nails as he ignores the urge to hit the wall once more. “she’s my best friend.” “and? shouldn’t you be happy she’s on a date with this guy. i like mark he’s nice. what you like her or something?”

Jace ignores how is blood boils at the idea of you now sitting in your pretty dress smiling and giggling at some other guy that's not him. that doesn’t mean he likes you…. Jace attempts to come up with an excuse in his head about why he's so upset and why he's always been so upset over you going out with other guys, he usually just tells himself he's all worried about you and then he finds some girl to take you off his mind for the night…. that doesn't mean he likes you.

Cregan watches with a raised brow as Jace has an internal conflict with himself. He expected Jace to turn to him and admit it but all he does is grumble to himself and grab his helmet walking away from him. “I don't like her.” Cregan just shakes his head and picks up his own helmet following after him, “that fucking idiot.”

—

Mark is nice. Hes cute. He told you you could order anything you wanted off the menu since he was paying. He pays attention to you when you talk. Hes not Jace. You try your best to not think about him but you can’t help it. You wonder how the game is going, you’ve never missed one of his games. Maybe you pushed it too far and should have scheduled this date for a different day, but you know if you did Jace would have managed to convince you not to go and you would have fallen into the same cycle you always do. You nod your head and hum as mark tells you some story as you phone begins to buzz. You ignore it but it just keeps on buzzing to the point even mark looks concerned. “You can check it i don’t mind, ill use the restroom.”

You let out a hushed thank you as you check you phone to see what looked like a million texts from cregan.

‘hey i know the two of you are like fighting or wtv but you gotta see him asap.’

‘never seen him lose his mind like that’

‘got himself hurt’

‘nothing too bad but he’s bleeding’

‘know he thinks it cost us the game’

‘now he wont talk to any of us not even me’

‘think his head wasn’t in it’

‘know it’s not my place but he likes you so much’

‘losing his fucking mind over you not being here and being on some date’

‘please, for his sake at least try to talk to him, know you’re busy sorry to bother but I'm worried for him’

You stand out of your seat in shock as your heart begins to race. He was hurt? He likes you? Mark hadn’t come back yet so you open your purse and throw down some bills before running out of the restaurant. You sprint your way back to campus where the field was, thankfully living in a college town meant everything being super close by, you cant hear anything other than your own racing heart and the sounds of your feet as they slam on the floor.

You slam the hallway door open and cregan and some other guys look at you in shock. You stand there and take some steps towards cregan barely being able to catch your breath. Cregan stands up and looks at you shocked, “You ran here?” You just nod as you look at him expectantly, “where is he?” He uses his thumb to point behind him to the locker room doors, “Completely alone, everyone's already left.” You nod as the guys wish you good luck and leave.

You just stare at the doors for a moment, clarity finally hitting you as you realize how ridiculous it was you just left your date and ran all the way here. You couldn't just ignore cregans message. Pushing open the door its dead quiet other than the sound of running water. You walk slowly into the room the door closing behind you louder than you expected causing you to wince before you call out his name. He doesn't answer so you walk around the wall to where the showers were and you can see him outlined in the curtain and almost gasp but you cover your mouth to prevent anything from coming out.

“Jace?” His head finally snaps up due to your voice being so close and he looks in your direction, calling out your name softly in question. “I’m here.” “What are you doing here?” He turns off the shower and you turn your back incase he stepped out of the shower. You attempt to suppress the heat and want that fills your body as you imagine him naked before shaking your head, “Cregan texted, i was worried about you.” He just hums. You wish you could see his face but you hear the curtain open and the sound of him stepping out. “What about your date?”

You freeze as you clutch your purse tighter in your hands as you let out a deep breath. “What about it?” Hes suddenly standing so close to you you can feel his breath tickling your back and you gulp. “You’re here and not there, why?” One of his hands slides down your arm to grab your clenched hand as his forehead hits your shoulder, he's takes a deep breath as he awaits your answer. “Does it matter?” You don't want him to ask because you don't want to have to answer him. you don't want to have to admit to yourself you just wanted to be with him and nobody else.

“You wanna know why it matters? Because i was so fucking mad that you weren’t here i threw the fucking game and hit my head. because nobody makes me lose my mind like you do. Needed you here and you weren’t. You were out with some stupid fucking guy and i was so pissed.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder and you try to suppress the whimper that climbs its way up to your throat. “What are you saying Jace?”

His hands move to wrap around your waist and his head moves to your neck, You can feel his wet naked chest soaking the back of your dress and the heat of his breath on your neck “You know what, That i would go find a new girl to fuck because i couldn’t have you, that i think about you all the time because i like you so much, that it makes me sick when i think about you with a guy that's not me.” He begins to suck at your neck and you now do nothing to hold back the moan you let out as his grip moves to your hips pulling you back against him closer. “You mean it?” His hands slide down to the hem of your dress and he slides his hands under it and upwards pulling your dress up to poll around your hips, “of course i do baby, can i touch you?”

You let out a strained please and he pushes your underwear aside to run a finger down your slit letting out a groan, “fuck..” He quickly sticks two fingers into you and you fall back against him, withering under his touch as he moves at a rough pace, clearly very eager to please you and his other hand comes down from your hips to play with your clit. Your knees almost buckle from the amount of pleasure but he keeps you pressed tightly against him curling his fingers.

You swear he has magic powers because as you were right about to cum he pulls out of you and you whimper. He chuckles at your reaction and twists you around to face him, “want you to come around me.” He pulls you into a heated kiss as you two frantically pull off your dress, kicking it to some random corner of the locker room along with your underwear. “I don't have a condom.” You hear him swear and mumble to himself but you cup his cheeks to stop him, “I'm on the pill.” “It’s not the same-” “what are you not clean?” “of course i am-” “Then fuck me Jace.” He looks in your eyes for any signs of hesitation and when he doesn't find any he quickly pushes himself into you.

You feel like you can’t breathe, he pushes you against a nearby wall and feverishly pounds into you as his hands move to play with your tits. Hes talking but you can’t decipher what he’s saying so lost in your own pleasure. “fuck you feel so good fuck.” You tug on his hair and pull him to kiss you, your on the brink of release as the feeling of his thumbs rubbing on your nipples and the combination of the millions of emotions racing around you. You grip on his hair tightly and he groans, “You close?” You nod you head, “Wait for me.” You open your mouth to complain but his hips begin to move faster and his hands move to your hips to slam you closer to match his thrusts. “Want to come together.” His words are slurred as he’s approaching his release. Your hands scratch down his back as he groans in your ear, taking your ear and sucking on it.

“Come.” He breaths in your ear and you do, he hisses as he feels you pulse against him, your fluid completely covering him and he cant help but follow suit. He kisses you running his hands down your arms. As the two of you settle down he makes no move to pull out of you, seeming content within you.

“I'm gonna get a fucking earful from cregan.”

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cameronspecial · 4 months

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Hi!! since ur requests are open, I have this idea in mind. Basically:

Zach and reader, and they just started dating. Reader is like an art major or smth similar and she is always seen walking around with all her art projects, she is really clumsy and always has paint over her etc. Because she is oblivious too sometimes Zack tries to gain her attention but she is just really focused on her work and idk u can come up with the rest 😭😭 like a fluff type of thing. I hope I make sense.

The Artistic Girl

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Suggestive Ending

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

His first memory of seeing her is when he was playing soccer with his friends in the quad. She had been walking back from class with a thin large bag thing. It was practically as big as her. Zach was so intrigued by the object in her hand that he stopped his game to ask her. “What’s with the bag?” he questioned, running up to her with an interested face. Y/N was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear him. He ran after her, gently tapping her upper arm. He smiled when she turned toward him, “Sorry. I just wanted to know what this big bag is. It’s almost as tall as you. It’s kinda a funny-looking backpack.” “It’s a portfolio bag silly,” she giggles, opening the bag for him to see her drawings. “I’m coming back from my figure drawing class.” He looked up to her to ask for approval to look through her work and she nodded. His hands flipped through the amazing art pieced with awe. She brought so much life into the two-dimensional medium. “These are amazing. I’m Zach by the way. Could I get your number? I would love to see more of your art,” he flirts. She beams at him, “I’m Y/N. I would be delighted to show you more of my art.” The rest of their story creates a beautiful painting.

———

Zach walks into their shared apartment to find Y/N at her pottery wheel. Her hands are cupped around the wet clay, creating a bulge in the once-straight cylinder. Her hair is in a messy bun and dried clay can be seen all over the bottom of her face and neck. Her clumsy personality means that her art supplies often find themselves all over her skin. It’s adorable. He remembers one time she accidentally sat on her paint pallet. The paint was all over her butt and it was hilarious. His eyes dart to the clock and he takes note of the time. Doesn’t she have class now? “Baby,” he calls to her. No response, instead, her tongue sticks out and her eyebrows furrow. He lets out a soft chuckle. When she gets into her artistic zone, it’s almost impossible to get her out of it. He’s only found one way so far to pull her attention away from her art. He removes his jacket, puts it on the coat rack, and then approaches her. She doesn’t look up at him. He is now standing beside her and he moves his face in front of hers. Her eyes are still glassed over in concentration, so he leans in for a kiss. Once her lips feel him, she snaps out of her thoughts.

Her dirty hands fly to his hair and she laces her fingers through his hair, forgetting the clay that dusts them. They stay like that for a few seconds before he pulls away and rests their forehead together. “You are late for class, Baby,” he whispers, turning their head toward the clock on the wall. She turns his head to her again, which gets some clay on his jaw. She leans in for another kiss, “Well since I’m already late, I don’t think there is any reason to go now. Plus, look at you. You are all dirty with clay. Someone has to help you get cleaned up.”

Zach smirks at her teasing words, loving where this conversation is going. “You are so right. And look at you. You have clay all over you too,” he plays along. She nods, standing up with him. “Well, let’s go get cleaned up,” she suggests, tugging him to the bathroom with her laughter filling the air.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fic

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sweet-honey-fruit · 1 year

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Hello idk if I'm late but I heard u needed inspo aka smth to write and I was thinkingggggg maybe u could write jelousy headcanons with scaramouche, kazuha, xiao pretty please...

I'm desperate

I’m desperate for it too, don’t worry. I shall provide.

Jealous Genshin Men Headcanons

Genre: fluff, a tad bit of hurt/comfort?

Warnings: possessive behavior but nothing toxic (okay maybe some in scaras but thats just who he is), a tad bit suggestive in Kazuhas

Kazuha

He rarely, and I mean RARELY, ever get jealous. He sees no reason to. He’s confident in himself, in you, and your relationship. Jealousy is a foreign feeling to him

So he was surprised when he felt an irritating amount of annoyance deep within his chest as he saw some guy chatting it up with you

He trusted you. If he trusts you, why is he feeling this way?

Kazuha didn’t realize that he stood up from his seat and started walking towards you when he saw the guy place a hand on your arm. Not until his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. His head nestled into your neck, his eyes narrowing at the guy in front of you that had the nerve to lay his hands on you

He relaxed a little when he felt your hand come up to bury itself in his hair. He put on a plastic smile. His voice was laced with false curiosity, holding a sharp edge to it. “Who’s this my dove?”

The guy seemed taken aback by Kazuhas sudden appearance. Which Kazuha was proud of. But that was quickly stripped away when the guy continued to talk to you. Not just talking to you, flirting with you. And that honestly pissed Kazuha off more. How dare he blatantly flirt with you in front of him, the person who is obviously your lover?

It doesn’t help that you’re just finding the situation amusing. Glancing between the guy and the anemo user. You hear him let out an annoyed huff into your ear.

“So, I was thinking….you, me, dinner at five this weekend? I mean, you’re just really cute and funny-“

Your eyes widen when you felt Kazuha nip at your pulse point, kissing up the side of your neck, along your jawline, before forcing your head to turn to kiss you on the lips.

It seemed innocent at first until you tried to pull away. His hand entangled itself into the back of your head, keeping you still and stuck in place. Each second his kiss got longer, rougher, and damn near proprietary. Your hands clenched onto his chest, letting out a small whimper from the lack of oxygen, feeling your lungs burn with the need for it

The whole time Kazuha’s eyes were half-lidded, glaring at the guy who was now growing uncomfortable the longer it went on

He only stopped when the guy awkwardly walked away from the two of you

A smirk landed on his face as he saw you panting heavily, feeling your skin heat up under his touch

It was after you caught your breath that you laughed, cupping his face with your gentle hand, “I was waiting to see how long it would take you to do something Kazu. It was fairly entertaining.”

He only let out a breathy chuckle, his hand overlapping with yours. He leaned in, lips brushing against your own as he talked, “I’m not done yet dove. I’ll show you just how much you belong to me,”

His words surprised him more than you, but the look on your face was worth it. He gave you a quick peck on the lips before leading you back to your room on the ship

Scaramouche

Unlike Kazuha, this man gets jealous constantly. All the time. 24/7. His abandonment issues come into play every time you look at someone.

Nevertheless, he’s learned to get a handle on it. He wants you two to last, and he knows that his jealousy is his problem to deal with. The last thing he wants is to make your relationship toxic and unhealthy. In full honesty, he’s been handling it well. He’s even been feeling less jealous as of late.

Hence why he was genuinely surprised when he felt the all too familiar feeling crawling up his skin and into his anger issues.

All because a fatui agent, under his jurisdiction to add salt to the wound, was flirting with you.

So maybe it was justified. Maybe it was rational. Perhaps, maybe, it was worth striking him with a blast of electro and sending him flying into the wall, knocking him out cold.

You stood there, baffled. You didn’t know if you should be scared and concerned for the possibly dead agent a few feet away from you. Or, if you should laugh because of how nonchalant your boyfriend was standing after striking down a person for flirting with you.

You decided on being concerned now and laugh later. You rushed over to the agent, kneeling beside him to look for any sign of life, scolding Scara, “Was that necessary babe?”

He let out a strained ‘tch’ before walking towards you, his jealousy only being fueled by your concern for, who in his eyes, was nothing but scum at the bottom of his shoe. “He’s fine. His chest is moving. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him for flirting with you like that. An agent, that works for me, having the nerve to flirt with the person that I make very clear is dating me, deserves to be six feet under.”

“I think that’s a little excessive but you know what? I love your spirit,” You stand up once you confirm that the agent was indeed breathing. Before you had the chance to do anything else, Scaramouche was snatching your wrist into his hand, forcing you to be dragged behind him as he speed-walks down the corridor. It’s tight, effectively keeping you trapped. But the way his thumb glides across your skin makes you relax and smile a bit, allowing him to take you wherever he wishes.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a check up with Dottore. You’re coming with me.”

“Oh cool. Is he going to fix your anger issues?”

“Please. He can barely fix his own.”

Xiao

He lies somewhere between Kazuha and Scaramouche on the jealousy scale.

He’s not jealous of any ‘mortals’. He finds that it’s useless to be jealous of someone that has little significance to you.

The Adeptus has gotten jealous of Zhongli a couple of times. Mostly when you were working under him at the funeral parlor and spent all your time there.

It only made him angry at himself for being jealous of someone he owes his existence to.

But Zhongli just found it amusing and reassured him that feelings of jealousy here and there were normal.

That was the only time Xiao recalls being truly jealous of a living being.

So he’s standing in the corner of your shared room, staring in wonder as to why…he’s jealous at a stack of paper.

A stack of paper that has all of your undivided attention. You haven’t even spared him a glance since he appeared. Only throwing him a haphazard “hello” before going back to your work.

His jealousy is also mixed with concern for your health cause two hours of nonstop work has to be unhealthy for you.

His footsteps were nonexistent as he made his way over to your hunched-over form. His eyes scanned over you. Tense muscles, quick and sloppy handwriting, fidgeting leg. All signs of stress and exhaustion.

Xiao stood next to you, putting a hand on your wrist to stop you from writing. His jealousy surged when you still didn’t glance at him, only scanning over your words so far before speaking weakly, “Let go please, I need to get this report in by tomorrow,”

“No. Stop. I think it’s time you took a break.” He was short and straight to the point like always.

“Xiao, this paper needs-“

He huffed, his voice sounding pushed to the limit, “Enough about the idiotic paper already.”

For the first time since he’s arrived, your eyes met his. But it wasn’t with love or admiration like they usually are. No, it was amusement.

“Are you-…Are you jealous of my paperwork?”

The laugh that followed was both heaven and hell to his ears. His cheeks were tinted a light pink at your correct observation. He didn’t make a move to deny that yes, he was jealous you were putting more time into some stupid papers than with him.

His hands only held onto yours as you were still snickering, “Just- just come to bed!”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin men x reader #genshin men #genshin impact #kazuha x reader fluff #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #genshin fluff #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers

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ilovetoomanymen · 6 months

Text

STRAWBERRIES AND CHERRIES

•‧₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊•

this is my first official fic!! i hope you guys enjoy!!

mike schmidt x female/girly!reader 🍓🍰

- fluff

- after the events of the film

request:

hmm,, I don't really have any clear ideas as well atm, buuuut could you perhaps try to write smth like-- the reader, mike and abby went to go picnic or smth by the beach(?) idk if that makes sense HAHA 😭

i hope you enjoy!! (lower case is intended!!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your eyes flutter open gently, being awoken by the sun flaring through the blinds, creating pretty patterns across mike’s bedroom. you hear a groan from behind you, and feel an arm squeeze around your waist. you turn around in his arms to face him.

“hi”, he mumbles with his eyes closed.

“hey, good morning”, you reply with a gentle smile.

he opens his eyes to look into yours and he immediately smiles which makes you giggle.

“what?” he asks smiling at you.

“nothing.” you reply, smiling back at him again.

“hey, it’s pretty sunny today, do you want to go for a picnic since abby isn’t at school today?” you ask, waiting patiently for his response.

“sure, what time is it?”

you turn around in his grip again and look at the little pink alarm clock he bought you, which contrasted with the dark oak of his bedside table.

“it’s only 8. do you wanna go at 11? ooh, should we go to the beach?”

mike doesn’t reply verbally, but he grabs you by the waist again, gently pulls you flush to his chest, and nods into your back.

“mike i have to get ready” you giggle at his affection.

“no, not yet, please” he grumbles in your ear.

“mike i have to shower, unless you want me to smell all day”

“y/n/n, you always smell good” he nudges the space between your neck and ear with his nose and inhales deeply.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“mike c’mon it’s been 20 minutes” you laugh at his ridiculousness.

“ugghhh, fine.” he kisses your neck.

you slip out of bed and leave mike alone. you open the bathroom and turn the shower on, tie your hair up, step in and start washing your body. you hear the door open and peek behind the curtain to see who it is, and looking back at you is mike’s mischievous face.

“mike get out!!” you shriek and laugh.

“relax, relax, i’m just using the toilet”

mike uses the toilet, then leaves, and you carry on with the rest of your shower. you get out and do your skin care, brush your hair, and dry yourself off.

walking back into the bedroom, you see mike lying awake in bed. wrapped in your pink, fluffy towel, you walk towards the window and open it to let some fresh air in.

you walk back over the the wardrobe, open the doors, and search for the perfect dress for the occasion. you pick out a little white dress with lace details, pink dainty flowers, and a little pink bow on. you turn around to face mike.

“what do you think?” you question him.

“i think that that is a very pretty dress, and you should wear that one.” he smiles at you, adoringly.

you smile back at him, turn around, pick out a matching baby pink underwear set, put that on, then put the dress on. mike stares at you and bites his lip, but you don’t realise.

you put deodorant on, sit at your vanity that mike lovingly built for you when you moved in, and do some light makeup. you tie your hair into a high ponytail and add a little pink ribbon around it.

you walk out the room, to go make everyone some breakfast, whilst mike watches your ass as you walk out.

deciding on waffles as being the best option, you make them, and serve them up onto plates, and whilst your laying the table, mike walks up to you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“hey” you giggle. he gives you a squeeze then lets go, to allow you to carry on getting everything ready.

“abby! breakfast is ready!” you shout for the little girl.

she comes skipping through and you and mike greet her, and for the whole of breakfast, you listen contently to abby recalling a dream she had the previous night. you sit down together and eat, just you and your happy little family.

mike does the dishes afterwards, and abby helps you pack the picnic full of your favourite fruits and snacks, cherry and strawberries being one of them. mike packs the car, and 10 minutes later you are all sat in the car, with mike driving, and you and abby singing along to songs on the radio, and laughing together. mike looks across to you and smiles, happy just because you’re happy. he puts his hand on your thigh and moves his thumb up and down.

you finally make it to the beach, and you and abby grab the picnic basket together and run down the steps leading to the sand, holding one handle each. mike laughs at you both and grabs the chairs and towels and walks behind you two.

you and abby run across the beach, shrieking and laughing together, whilst mike watches you two, smiling to himself.

5 minutes of running and laughing down the beach later, you guys find a good spot to sit down and enjoy the prepared food. you eat together, and laugh together, just enjoying each others company. abby goes down to the water to stand and play around with the shallow water. you and mike lie down together on the towel and hold eachother. you talk about everything together, and then just relax. you have never been happier with your two best friends in the world.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

i’m so sorry if this is too long or really bad and boring and repeating!! it’s my first fic ever, so constructive criticism is much appreciated! i also haven’t re-read this very well, so there might be some mistakes! i’m also sorry if the end is rushed, i felt like it was getting too long so i decided to cut it short 😭

if you have any other requests, drop them in my request box, and have a great day!! 🍓🍒

@nanami-s-sunshine

#mike schmidt x reader #fnaf #fluff #imagine #story #five nights at freddy's #picnic #josh hutcherson

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