#kyle scheible | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fragileheartbeats · 7 days

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶ㅤ۫ㅤ𝅄ㅤೀ

— 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘦, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘓𝘦𝘦, 𝘏𝘢𝘭, 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦, 𝘒𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘴 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐓 ─ 𓇼 . ♡𝆬

Her skin, a canvas where perfection resides, Her hair, a cascade of silken tides. Her eyes, a mirror reflecting boundless depths, A universe of emotions, where love intercepts. Her voice, a symphony that soothes the soul, Its melody enchanting, making his spirit whole. Her laughter, a tinkling bell's sweet refrain, A melody that chases away all pain. He worships her as a deity of love, His heart surrenders, soaring like a dove. Her presence fills him with a sacred light, Guiding his path through life's murky night. With every breath he takes, her image lingers, An ethereal vision that sets his heart aflutter. Her existence a gift, beyond compare, A masterpiece of beauty, forever to share. He gazes at her with eyes filled with awe, Lost in her radiance, his soul in tow. Her smile, a beacon of hope and cheer, Dispelling darkness, casting out fear. In her embrace, he finds solace and peace, A sanctuary where his worries cease. Her touch, a gentle caress that sets him free, Healing wounds with its tender alchemy. He cherishes her laughter, prizes her tears, For in her presence, his world fills with cheers. She is his goddess, his guiding star, The love of his life, forever near and far. Through life's trials, he vows to stand by her side, His unwavering devotion, a constant guide. For in her love, he finds his greatest worth, A treasure he'll protect with all his heart's girth.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀 ─ 𔒌 . ♡𝆬

In his heart's embrace, a tender soul resides, A confectioner's dream, sweetened with love's tides. His eyes behold a goddess, radiant and bright, Her every smile, a beacon that banishes the night. Like chocolate's rich aroma, his love fills the air, A fragrant symphony that conquers all care. Each glance from her eyes, a sip of pure delight, Melts his being to a state of dreamy flight. Her voice, a cascade of notes that dance in his ear, A sweet serenade that fills him with cheer. Her laughter echoes, as if bells ring with glee, A celestial chorus, etching her image in his memory. Her skin is as smooth as velvet, so soft to the touch, As if crafted from petals, untouched and unsmirched. Her hair cascades like a stream of molten gold, Ensnaring his heart in its shimmering hold. Her lips, a confection of sweetness, tempt his desire, A tantalizing treat that sets his soul afire. In her embrace, he finds solace and relief, His sugary paradise, banishing all grief. He worships the ground she treads upon with grace, Her every step a dance, a mesmerizing chase. Her smile, a beacon that guides him through the darkest night, Illuminating his path with its radiant light. Her mind is a treasure trove, wisdom flows unbound, Her words like honey, healing every wound. Her intellect captivates, her spirit soars, A paragon of beauty, unmatched in all time's doors. With every beat of his heart, his love grows stronger still, A tapestry of emotions, vibrant and true to fill. He's her devoted knight, ready to conquer all, His love for her, an unquenchable, eternal call. He envisions their future, a sugary delight, Filled with laughter, adventures, and love's gentle might. Together, they'll create memories as sweet as chocolate dreams, A lifetime of indulgence, fulfilling all their whims. Oh, sweet chocolatier, forever under her spell, His heart's desire, a goddess who captivates his soul so well. In her presence, he finds joy, contentment, and grace, An eternal love story, written on time's sweet embrace.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ─ 𓇢𓆸 . ♡𝆬

Her every movement, a symphony of grace, Her laughter, a melody that fills his space. He watches from afar, his hunger gnawing, Yearning to possess her, her essence craving. But as reverence turns to possession's lust, He succumbs to a sin, a sacrifice unjust. With each morsel he consumes, her flesh so sweet, His love becomes a horror, a ravenous retreat. He whispers words of adoration as he feasts, His teeth sinking deep, a macabre release. Her eyes, once so radiant, now glazed with dread, As he feeds on her essence, leaving her for dead. In the aftermath, a hollow ache remains, A cruel mockery of the love he feigned. He mourns the goddess he created in his mind, His sorrow a bitter echo, his heart confined. Her bones, once pristine, now a grisly reminder, Of the depravity that love can hinder. He caresses them with trembling hands, a mournful plea, Seeking a connection, a memory to decree. The world judges harshly, their voices a condemning cry, But he remains unyielding, his madness soaring high. For in his eyes, she was not just a mere flesh, But a deity he loved beyond his own death. Haunted by her absence, his spirit wilts, Each passing day, his sanity tilts. He wanders the streets, a pariah outcast, Carrying the burden of his horrific repast. In the depths of his despair, a flicker of remorse, A realization that his actions were coarse. But forgiveness eludes him, his soul forever stained, By the love he destroyed, the life he profaned.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐋 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬

Her touch, a gentle breeze caressing, Awakening dreams, with blessings blessing. Her laughter, music to his ears, Dispelling sorrows, quenching fears. He led her through the throne room's grace, Where tapestries depicted their embrace. A queen, a goddess, his heart's desire, He'd fallen for her with burning fire. Her virtues, pure as driven snow, Her kindness warmed him, made his soul glow. He worshipped her, not as a mortal maid, But as a celestial being, unafraid. He'd bow his head to gaze into her eyes, Seeing heaven's reflection, a paradise. Her hair, a silken waterfall so fine, Cascading gently, entwined like vines. He'd whisper sonnets filled with fervent praise, Exalting her beauty, a celestial maze. Her smile, a radiant dawn's embrace, A sight that stole his breath, a timeless trace. In hallowed halls, he held her close and dear, His love for her unwavering, crystal clear. He sought her pleasure, her utmost joy, Delighting in her presence, without alloy. The courtly whispers echoed through the halls, Of a king's devotion that shattered all walls. He'd consecrate his realm to her name, His love eternal, an unquenchable flame.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ─ ⛥ . ♡𝆬

Her presence, a perfume, sweet and ethereal, A celestial melody, soft and ethereal. Her voice, a symphony, enchanting and pure, A tender whisper that his every desire lures. Her eyes, a universe of dreams unfurled, Where constellations dance and stardust's whirled. Their gaze, a spell that binds him forevermore, A love profound that knows no bounds nor shore. Her touch, a brush of paradise on his skin, As if a seraph's touch had come to kin. It sparks a flame within, a fire that burns bright, An ardent devotion, day and darkest night. He marvels at her wisdom, deep and true, Her spirit, soaring like an eagle's view. Her grace and poise, a celestial art, A masterpiece of nature, a treasure from the start. He sees not flaws, but only radiant light, A goddess descended from celestial heights. His heart, her temple, where he offers his all, A sanctuary of devotion, an eternal thrall. In her embrace, he finds solace and rest, A sanctuary where his weary soul is blessed. Her laughter echoes through his world like a chime, Dispelling shadows, restoring hope sublime. With every glance, his love grows stronger yet, A tapestry woven with threads of pure delight. He sings her praises, a poet's soul unfurled, For she is his goddess, the jewel of his world.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 ─ ♬ . ♡𝆬

In his eyes, she was a goddess fair, Her presence graced his world beyond compare. Like a beacon in the darkest night, Her love ignited a flame so bright. He adored her every move, Her laughter filled his heart with glee. Her touch sent shivers down his spine, A reminder of her beauty, divine. His thoughts were filled with her allure, Each moment spent with her, he cherished pure. Her smile, a balm for weary eyes, Her presence, a solace, a gentle prize. He danced to her every whim, His heart her captive, forever dim. Her desires, his command, Her worship, his sacred brand. He painted her in vibrant hues,Her eyes twinkled like distant dews. Her skin, like velvet, soft and smooth, He loved her with a passion, uncouth. In his shrine, her image stood tall, A symbol of his devotion, his all. He whispered prayers to her at night, Begging for her constant, eternal light. Her every breath was like a song, Her voice carried melodies that danced along. He would listen for hours, transfixed, In her presence, his soul grew rich.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ─ ✉ . ♡𝆬

With each stolen glance, a symphony played, A melody woven from the threads of her gaze. Her ivory skin, a canvas for his desire, A tapestry adorned with embers of fire. Her voice, a celestial choir soaring high, Whispering truths that made his spirit fly. Her presence, a celestial balm, so sweet, A refuge from the storms that raged at his feet. In her eyes, he saw his own reflection, A mirror of his soul's hidden perfection. She held his broken pieces with gentle care, Rekindling a flame that had once burned bright. Her laughter, a sparkling cascade of bliss, Banishing shadows with its ethereal kiss. Her smile, a beacon that guided him through, A radiant sunrise illuminating the true. With trembling hands, he touched her silken hair, Like brushing petals, a touch beyond compare. Her every gesture, a masterpiece unfurled, An endless canvas where his love unfurled. He worshiped her beauty, an eternal vow, A sacred flame that forever would glow. Her body, a temple, a vessel divine, A haven where his soul would forever entwined. Lost in the labyrinth of her embrace, His heart found solace, a tranquil space. She was his muse, his inspiration eternal, His goddess, his guiding star, his celestial eternal.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

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blair3writ3s · 21 days

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And I Can’t Help Myself | Kyle Scheible

Kyle Scheible x F!reader, smut

You and Kyle end up stuck in the same hotel room after a concert, and he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible. Spoiler, he ends up knuckles deep inside you.

Warnings: confused to lovers. The CLASSIC one bed trope. Cussing, inexperienced reader. Reader calls people “babe” platonically. Kyle speaks French because Timothée does and it’s the hottest thing ever so!! The French is in italics :}

OOC but I don’t care

MDNI

Your extremely rusty, ancient car rumbled down the highway. The steering wheel trembled slightly beneath your hands. Honda Civics, seating exactly five, had almost enough room to fit the band. Almost. You had to make Kyle sit in the trunk.

Luckily, your car was a hatchback, and police officers didn’t have much interest in pulling over a rag-tag car full of high schoolers; blasting Seven Nation Army.

Olive, sitting next to you, shouted the lyrics of the song. Her blonde hair was all mused up from the wind, but it still looked marvelous.

Tony, Miles, and Jake, in the backseat, sang along. Their yelling was completed with air guitar motions and air drumming. With the windows rolled down, it was a madhouse.

Between the loudness of your band; and hair flying everywhere, it was almost enough to take your mind off the show tonight.

Almost.

The car rumbled along, nearing the shabby hotel Olive had booked for us. It was the closest hotel to our venue, and the cheapest too.

Turning down the radio and rolling up the windows, you shouted, your voice laced with excitement, “Guys! We’re almost here. Get your stuff together.”

Olive grinned, exclaiming, “Between your horrible driving and Ky in the back,” Kyle held up his middle finger from the trunk, face blank.

“I thought for sure at least one of us wouldn’t make it.” She laughed, her laughter a bird-like chirping. You swatted at her leather-clad arm playfully, scoffing at her antics.

Glancing in your mirrors, pulling into the parking spot, you locked eyes with Kyle. He had his book in one hand, bass on his lap. Nausea was plastered on his face, likely from the boat-like qualities of the car.

You snickered under your breath.

Kyle, face pale and hands sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the nausea etched on his face. Eyeliner was smudged around his eyes, and his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl back at home.

Unfortunately, you weren’t too different from them.

“Remind me,” Kyle grumbled, “To never let you drive anywhere ever again.” He said to you, a sarcastic lilt in his voice.

You turned around to face him, slamming your door shut. “Remind me,” I mocked, “Which one of us has an actual drivers license?” You walked over to him, picking your guitar up off the ground, along with your backpack full of essentials.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

You turned towards the back windshield of the car, hip bumping the side of his upper thigh. Combing your hands through your layered hair, and adjusting your tank top, you made eye contact with him in the mirror.

“At least I can drive, babe.” You commented, ignoring the prickle of fondness that ran down your spine.

“Sure, chérie,” Kyle said, lowering his voice to match the slight grin playing on his lips.

He promptly turned away, ruffling your hair before he walked towards the hotel, following your band mates inside. Your eyes, despite your best judgement, followed his figure. He was stupidly hot, a kind of hotness that a guy like him shouldn’t get to have.

Not that you would ever, not in a million years, tell him that.

“ONE ROOM?? I BOOKED THREE!” Olive screeched, an angry redness was creeping up her neck. She glared at the receptionist, “How do you expect 6 people to cram into one room!?”

The receptionist looked blankly at her, glancing at the lot of us. “I don’t know. But I can assure you that your file only has one room under it.” She clicked her tongue “you’ll have to make do.”

Olive clenched her jaw, eye twitching. “LISTEN HERE YOU-“ She raised her voice further, leaning inwards towards the older woman.

“Oli, babe,” You interjected swiftly, grabbing her arm. “Why don’t you go.. take a walk?” Olive’s jaw clenched, shoulders tense as she stomped out of the hotel. She slammed the glass door shut so hard you thought it would shatter. Luckily, it did not.

Pushing through your band mates to the front desk, you smiled in a friendly manner to the clerk. She did not not return your smile.

“Is there any way to book an additional 2 rooms now? We can pay.” You said, putting on your costumer service voice, that you use at your management job.

“Nope.” She said, voice as monotone as ever. “I’m afraid we only have one other free room, and it only has one double bed.” She flicked her eyes back across the group of us, “As opposed to the two separate beds your other room has.” She finished, glancing down to the computer, clicking away.

“We’ll take it! Anything’s better than one room.” Miles quickly interjected, glancing at you pleadingly.

“It’ll cost $100 for one nights stay, and because you’re just getting it now…$50 extra.” The clerk stated, glancing back up at you.

You turned towards Jake, the manager of the band. He swept his dark hair to the side, swiftly giving you the cash for the room.

You passed the money to the woman, and quickly guided the band up to the rooms.

“Ok, boys…and Olive,” You said, putting your hands on your maxi-skirt-clad hips. “Oli and I are going to take the room with the single bed, and you guys are going to have to figure out the other room.” You tossed Tony the keys, turning towards the room directly across the hall.

“Really?” Kyle challenged, grabbing your arm before you entered your room. “What are we, children? Why do all four of us have to get packed into that room,” he said, gesturing the boys standing around him, as well as the door to their room “while you and Olive get plenty of space?” He stated, walking towards the other end of the hallway, and towards the other room.

“I vote we split three for three. It’s much more fair.” Kyle declared, crossing his arms. “What do you think, little Miss Guitarist? ” he really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both feuding over something as fickle as rooming arrangements.

“I dunno, Mister Bassist, maybe I don’t want to share a room with your annoying ass!” You whisper-shouted, pulling Oli inside of the room and slamming the door behind you.

Kyle, from outside your door, yelled “Va te faire foutre, putain de con!”, banged on your door once, then gave up, going into his designated room.

“And I thought I had a flare for the dramatic,” Olive teased, setting her outfit for the night out on the bed. “You and Kyle are on a completely different planet. Especially with him yelling his French” She chirped, laughing at the situation.

“I can’t believe I actually won that fight,” You said lightheartedly. “I thought for sure he was going to kick down the door.” I rolled my eyes, turning towards her.

“I know, right? I mean, he still hasn’t given up with the whole dating thing..” Olive said, nudging you playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sighed, setting your bag on the bed. “He’s a player. I’d rather die than give in to that nightmare” You joked, turning back towards her.

Olive sighed, grabbing your hand softly. “I really don’t think he wants to hurt you-“

You swiftly interrupted her “-I’m going to take a quick shower before I start getting ready, ok, babe? I want to look perfect for tonight.”

“Sure,” she sighed, flashing you the classic; ‘I-don’t-agree-but-I’ll-go-along-with-it’, best friend look.

Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. Quickly stripping, you set out a towel for yourself and a hair mask. You took your time in the shower, scrubbing, exfoliating, shaving, moisturizing. You were determined to be ready for tonight, who knew how it would go.

The time flew so quick, it surprised you to hear a rhythmic knock on the door, disrupting your trance.

“What’s up?” You called, scrubbing the last of the hair mask out of your hair.

“I’m going to head over to the other room to practice with the boys,” Olive called through the door. “I want to go over vocals one more time with Miles. And I think Tony wants to assemble some of his drum equipment,”

“Ok! I’ll see you in 30.” You called back, excitement flowing through your veins for the approaching show.

You finished the shower, drying off and blow drying your hair. Tonight, you decided, you were going to go all out. Full glam, you suppose.

The room door clicked open, implying Olive’s departure. You heard some mumbling, but it wasn’t outside the ordinary to hear Olive talking to herself. The door promptly clicked shut.

Thinking nothing of it, you finished your makeup and hair, leaving the bathroom in only your bra and underwear from the day to find your outfit for the night.

The bathroom door clicked shut, and you whirled around, startled to find Kyle; sitting on your bed. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw his flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his hazel eyes stared into yours blankly.

He mumbled “Putain de chaud”, eyes darting away from yours. The bass that he had previously been strumming was left limp in his lap.

“What gibberish are you grumbling now?” You complained, Turing your back on him. Quickly slipping on a stray sweatshirt Olive had left out, you covered your torso and upper thighs from view. “What are you doing in here anyway?” You inquired crudely, digging through your bag for your clothes.

“Merde, I was just looking for my bass, and found it in here near your guitar.” He said, glancing away from your perturbed expression. “And it was really loud in the other room so I wanted to stay in here, ma femme parfaite.” He trailed off, not making eye contact while saying the last part.

“You can’t just switch into French and assume I understand,” You ridiculed him, pulling your tights on. “For all I know, you just called me a “cunt-bitch -whore” I teased, a playful smile pulling at my lips.

“The world may never know,” he said, lying back on the bed, slight smirk playing on his lips. His hair fell across his forehead, eyes closing, strumming his bass absentmindedly. And for a second, you wanted to kiss him.

The band unloaded out your car, hauling the musical equipment towards the entrance of the venue. Pushing through the door, you followed closely behind Olive, trying not to bump your band mates with the case of your guitar. The venue was still completely empty, to your relief. It was big, clearly a party scene. There was a slight haze in the air, from what, you don’t know.

Jake, being the manager, walked across the venue, beginning to set up the -sparse- merch he had designed for the band. It was a typical black band tee, but with the name of your band, “L'Enfance Nue”, sprawled across the upper half.

The rest of us decidedly walked over towards the stage, hauling the equipment behind you.

You hopped up onto the stage, placing your guitar and amp cord close to the center, but a little to stage left. Olive was already in the center with Miles, attempting to plug in their microphones to the questionable-looking amp.

Kyle stood to your stage left, also puzzling over the amp and his bass.

“Fuck this. My plug doesn’t fit,” He grumbled, standing up from his crouched position. Turning towards you, he demanded “Did you switch our cords, belle?”

You rolled your eyes at his antics, flipping your hair over your shoulder. Approaching the amp, you grabbed Kyle’s bass right out of his hands. You briefly glanced over it, noticing the black sheen and the shallow scratches throughout the face of the instrument.

You glanced up at him briefly; making, then quickly breaking, eye contact. His brunette hair had fallen into his eyes, mouth slightly agape, creating an aloof look.

You knew better.

“Oh,” you laughed, pulling the plug out of the socket on his bass. “You had the cord twisted. This side,” you clicked it into the amp, “goes here, and this” you finished the circuit, fully plugging in the instrument, “goes into here! Dumbass.” You laughed, strumming a B7 chord on the bass.

“Give that back, belle!” He demanded, grabbing your hand, which was now attempting a bass line that he plays during one of the songs.

“You can’t even play..” he trailed off, staring at your ring-clad hand. His hazel eyes drifted back up to yours, stopping briefly on your parted lips. An annoying smirk tugged on the corners of him mouth.

The position you two were in hit you like a bus. Your bodies were nearly touching, with his hand grasping yours, and his bass hanging from a strap around your shoulders. To an outsider looking in, you were about to kiss.

Yeah right.

You punched his shoulder with your opposite hand, backing away from him. Kyle scoffed, putting his hands up in surrender. Passing him his bass, you padded over to your own cord and instrument, plugging it in and tuning.

Your fingers played with the knobs on the guitar, adjusting it to perfection. You could feel Kyle’s insidious gaze on your profile, but you decidedly avoided eye contact. An embarrassed redness creeped up your neck, the tension of the room was becoming unbearable.

The lights in the venue began to dim, and the stage lights lit up. The ambiance of the room shifted, stirring your nerves. This was really happening, your first show.

The night went by in a haze, but the only thing you could really focus on was Kyle. He was in “the zone”, so to speak.

His hair was in his eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. A light sheen coated his forehead, dark eyeliner smudged around his eyes. He was strumming his bass with quick, ring-clad fingers, body swaying slightly to the beat.

And, despite his fuck-boyness, he looked angelic.

Kyle, finishing his bass line, glanced up at you, smirking. You smiled back, completing your solo at the end of the song.

The crowd cheered, a sound that was simply music to your ears. They loved you, loved the band. You basked in the glow of their cheers, hugging Olive from the side.

Kyle sneaked up behind the both of you, slinging his arm around your shoulder. He was smiling the brightest you’ve ever seen him smile, laughter was pouring from his lips like song.

Olive glanced at you mischievously, a small smirk pulling at her cherry lips.

“Y’all wanna hear some punk-ass French?!” She yelled into the microphone, laughing as the crowd erupted in cheers.

You both pushed Kyle forward, giggling as his face turned a bright crimson.

“Um, hey guys,” He said into the mic. There was a few whoops from the crowd, egging him on. “Nous sommes “L’Enfance nue”!” He said, laughing under his breath. “Nous sommes plutôt cool, alors... ouais. Passe une bonne nuit!” The crowd erupted into cheers and clapping.

You never wanted the night to end.

But, like all things, it did.

And now you wanted nothing more than to shower and relax, in your bed, alone.

Alas, Olive decided tonight, of all nights, was the night to make a move on Miles. And so, Olive sat on his lap in the backseat of your car, loudly making out with him.

And when you arrived at the hotel, they had wordlessly claimed the room with the two beds, locking the door swiftly behind them.

“Guys!! Really? Come ON!” You yelled, banging on the door. Turning to the group, you sighed, crossing your arms. “What are we going to do?” You groaned, leaning against the wall.

“Well.. I guess I can find another hotel..” Jake said, scratching the back of his head bashfully.

“I’ll go with him!” Tony quickly agreed, following Jake out of the hotel. You turned to Kyle, sighing reluctantly.

“Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with." Kyle followed, his movements mirroring yours. The small walk down the cramped hallway was filled with a tension.

Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching the door, you fumbled for the key, your irritation evident in your clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room that was thoroughly unappealing.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. Kyle rolled his eyes at the sight, scoffing at you.

“We’re not children, belle,” Kyle stated, starting to dismantle your fortress.

“‘You could’ve fooled me, Ky,” you said, giving up on the pillows. Grabbing your bag, you walked swiftly into the bathroom, hoping to change into something more comfortable.

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with someone who you refused to love.

And unfortunately, your resolve you crumbling.

You sat at the small vanity, brushing your hair out. You saw Kyle approaching you out in the reflection, but you refused to make direct eye contact.

You knew what was about to happen.

He touched your shoulder lightly, rubbing circles on the exposed skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, his voice still soft. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.” Your voice is soft, too, but it is also nervous, almost fearful.

He knelt down. “Belle, look at me.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to look at him. In fact, you were quite sure everyone would be infinitely better off if you never laid eyes on him again, bandmate or no.

You did, though, turning around on the chair hesitantly. He took your hands in his, smiling at you in such a way that your heart fluttered.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He whispered, clutching your hands. “Your heart is safe with me,” he finished, blushing lightly.

“But I know you,” you told him softly with a slight shake of your head, “And I can’t do this.”

He tensed, his hands tightening around yours. “Why not?”

You shook your head again.

You couldn’t tell him why you refused to allow him to have you, despite him trying so many times in the past. You knew how he felt about you.

But you know how he is, what he does.

“I love you, belle,” he whispered fiercely. “I’ve loved you for months. I want you. I need you.”

“You don’t,” you insisted, yanking your hands away and standing up, backing away from him.

He stepped forward. You turned around, adjusting a table decoration to distract yourself from him.

Then, footsteps.

Hands on your hips.

Being pulled gently backwards.

The firm lines of a male body pressed against you.

The heat emanating from him, seeping through your clothes and into your skin.

“I do,” he said quietly, pulling your hair to one side and leaning down to press kisses into the skin of your neck.

You tried desperately not to whimper.

Logical or not, you wanted him to touch you, and had for a long time.

Kyle’s grip on your hips tightened. “I want you,” he said again. “I need to be yours” Another kiss to your neck. “Please, belle. Please don’t turn ms down. I’ll be good to you, I promise,” he swore. “The best you’ve ever had.” Another kiss, this one open-mouthed.

“I want to fill you,” he murmured. “With me at first, again and again until you’re screaming for it, screaming for me .” He slid his hands up and down your sides, lingering on your hips. “Then I want to fill you with my children.” Another kiss. “And then me again. I’ve been with a lot of women, and I know… I know I’ll never tire of you, never get enough of you.”

You knew he’d been with a great many women, but hearing him say it was like an ice shard in your chest anyway.

“How many?” You whispered, your voice sharp.

“You mean, uh…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“How many women?”

He didn’t speak for several seconds.

“About seven.”

Another ice shard.

“I see.”

“Does it bother you?” he questioned.

You didn’t say anything at first, but then, “You know it does,”

“But I love you,” Kyle pointed out, winding his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “I have for so long” You almost scoffed. Then, after a moment, he murmured, “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” you said primly.

His hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts.

“I like that you’re jealous,” he told you, nuzzling your neck.

“I’m not,” you snapped.

Kyle chuckled softly, then sighed and said, “I won’t force you.” He stepped away from you. “But I… I need you to know,” he went on, “that I care for you a great deal. I’ll make it special for you. I’ll make it good for you,” he promised. “I can make you beg for me. I can make you burn for me as I burn for you.”

You turned towards him, bracing your hands against the table behind you for fear you’d fall over, shock evident on your face.

“You…” you paused, “you burn for me?”

He stepped towards you again until he was right in front of you, then cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Haven’t you seen the way I look at you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide.

“Let me be yours, belle,” he murmured, gazing longingly at your reddened lips. “Let me make you feel good.” He was leaning towards you slowly, gauging your reaction. “Please. I need you,” he said again, desperate for you. “Say you’ll have me,” he pleaded. “Say you'll let me take you, make you mine.”

“Aren’t I already yours?” You wondered aloud. Realizing your words, you slapped a hand over your mouth, face turning red.

Kyle smirked at you, chucking softly. “If you are mine I am certainly yours,” he responded.

You’d never thought you’d want to belong to someone, but you wanted to belong to him. Your heart and soul have belonged to him for a long time, though you’d never tell him that. What difference did it make if your body belonged to him, too?

You shouldn’t. You should refuse him. He would break your heart, and there’d be nothing you could do to escape him. You couldn’t very well kick him out of the band, could you?

You shouldn’t let him touch you, but with him looking at you that way, you weren’t sure you could refuse. Your resolve crumbled.

He’s already going to break my heart, you realized.

Unintentional it may be, but he will destroy you nonetheless, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. If you let him do as he wishes, at least you’ll have him in this small way. At least you’ll be able to pretend, for a moment, that he’s truly in love with you, too.

You couldn’t refuse him. You wanted this with him too much.

You clenched your eyes shut and nodded slightly.

Within seconds, Kyle’s hand was in your hair and his lips were moving against yours with barely restrained passion. He wound his free arm around your waist, tilting his head slightly.

His lips never leaving yours, moving against you with a gentle pressure, he began to untie drawstring that was keeping your shorts on your waist.

Having been the only person to ever see your body since you’d passed that age of 10, you nearly pushed him away from you, nearly swatted his hands away.

He was still kissing you when he slid your tank-top off of your torso. “Tilt your head,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes. You did so. “Move your lips like I do, okay?” You nodded your understanding, and he smiled. “Good. When my tongue touches yours, just do what I do, belle.”

“What does that mean?” You asked, your voice quiet and rushed as he moved in to kiss you again. “You’ve been calling me that all night”

“Belle?” he questioned. You nodded, and he smiled again. “It means ‘beautiful’.”

You blushed. “Oh.”

And then he kissed you again. Hard. You wanted more, wanted his lips to keep moving against yours, and when you tentatively mirrored his actions, he moaned against you, gripping your hip with one hand and placing the other at the small of your back. When he felt the fabric of your bra, however, he froze.

And you remembered that he hadn’t actually taken the time to look at you in your underwear alone. He pulled back slowly, his eyes sliding down your body.

It was a fairly typical set, black lace and pink stitching that led to a bow in the center. It pushed your breasts together slightly, and hugged your curves closely.

It left nothing to the imagination.

The shapes and lines of your body were visible. The color of your nipples, the slightly curved expanse of your stomach, the slender dip of your waist and the swell of your hips.

Kyle could see every part of you, and he stared at you for nearly a minute, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open just a fraction, before the two of them appeared to snap out of the trance they’d been in; him after seeing your body, and you at the horror of him seeing your body.

You crossed one leg in front of the other and covered your breasts with your arms.

Kyle, on the other hand, was in the process of pulling his shirt off as quickly as physically possible.

“No,” he practically growled as he yanked his shirt over his head and promptly began to unbuckle his belt, shucking off his shoes and socks at the same time. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, as he stripped down to his undergarments (a cotton pair of short pants with a drawstring, which he quickly undid) before sliding those over his hipbones, too, with absolutely zero hesitation.

You didn’t even get a look at his dick, he was on you so fast.

He kissed you roughly, with a groan of, “Belle,” against your lips as he slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders. It caught on the tops of your breasts, and you kissed him back hesitantly. “Take this off, amour.”

He kissed your neck wetly and began to suck on the skin there, and you were lost. Slipping your arms out of the confines of the bra, pulling it off your frame. You allowed him to slide your underwear down your legs, too, so that it pooled at your feet.

And then you were naked before him. Well and truly naked. He stopped kissing you, pulling away from you, panting. “Let me look at you.” When you lifted your arms up to block your breasts from view again, he grabbed your wrists. “No,” he said softly. “No. Tu m'appartiens maintenant.”

You found you quite liked the way French rolled off his tongue. Particularly the way he his mouth moved with every foreign syllable.

“What does that mean?” You asked, forcing your embarrassment at being so exposed from your mind.

He grinned. “It means you belong to me now.”

Yes, something deep inside of you whispered. I am yours.

And then you glanced down at his body for the first time, and…

No. No, this wasn’t going to work. It was not what you’d been expecting at all.

You have masterbated before, and it was indeed pleasurable. But that was two of your fingers, maybe three. Naturally, you’d assumed that a man would be about the same size (and therefore endurable) as your fingers.

Kyle was… Well. He most certainly wasn’t the same size as your fingers. In fact, he was about as thick as your wrist, or very nearly so, and seemed to be close to 7 inches.

Fuck.

This wouldn’t work. No, it certainly would not.

You looked back up at him, scoffing. He was taking a step towards you. You took one back. He raised an eyebrow at you, and you shook your head in response, earning a frown from your newfound partner.

“Nope,” you squeaked, taking another step back.

“Nope? Why ‘nope’?”

“If,” you began, “if that is what you plan on putting inside me, then I’m sorry to tell you, Kyle, but but there’s no fucking way”

He blinked at you in confusion. “Amour.” He said the pet name slowly, drawing out the syllables. “I promise you, it’s not impossible.”

“We can try, I guess,” you conceded, still inwardly skeptical.

Pushing past your worries, you tilted your head to the side, beckoning him back towards you. And when he pressed his body to yours, you felt it against your stomach.

Good god, but it felt even larger than it looked.

“I’ll prepare you,” Kyle promised, one of his hands resting on your hip. “You were made to take me.” He pressed a kiss just below your ear. “I know you were.” And then, he was murmuring French again. “Je vais te faire mendier pour ma bite.”

“What does that mean?” You gasped out as he trailed kisses up your neck and peppered your jaw with them.

He smirked against your skin.

“It means I’ll make you beg for my dick.”

You whimpered. “Let me make you scream for me,” he said huskily before kissing you again, even more fiercely than he had before.

“Ky,” you gasped out as he laved at your neck. “Kyle, please—“

“I will,” he promised, cupping your cheek and kissing you hungrily. “Spread your legs for me, mon amour.”

You pushed down your nervousness by force and did so, too absorbed in him to ask the meaning of what he’d said. Once your legs were spread, he slipped his hand between them and began to stroke you.

He groaned when his fingertips first brushed against you. “You’re so wet,” he said hoarsely. “God, you must want me as much as I want you.” You didn’t speak, because he was kissing you again. And then he brushed his fingers against your clit, and you knew it was over for you. Your resolve snapped.

He rubbed you with one hand and grasped your breast with the other, stroking your nipple.

A whimper forced its way out of your throat, and he chuckled against your lips. “Does it feel good?” He was still stroking you between your legs, sending sparks of pure electricity shooting through your veins, and the fingers caressing your breast had started to pinch your nipple lightly. “Tell me if it feels good,” he encouraged.

“It— it does,” You gasped out as he trailed kisses along your jaw.

“Je vais te baiser jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses plus bouger, jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses plus respirer, jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses penser à rien d'autre qu'à moi,” he murmured in your ear.

“Kyle,” you whimpered, “if you— if you’re going to speak French, you have to translate it.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” He rubbed you a little bit faster, pinched your nipple a little bit harder. “I said I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move,” he told you lowly, “until you can’t breathe, until you can’t think of anything but me.”

He slid a finger inside of you, and it was insanely better than when you’d tried it on yourself. It was… it was divine. He pulled the finger out again, pumping it a few times and rubbing that spot with his thumb all the while.

A wet squelching sound filled the room that you were embarrassed by, but Kyle seemed to revel in it. “So wet for me,” he groaned, leaning his forehead against your shoulder and sliding another finger inside you.

You clutched at his shoulders, and your hips started to move against his hand. As soon as you became physically responsive, he lifted his head and kissed you desperately, his hand leaving your breast to cup your cheek as you practically rode his fingers.

You panted and whimpered, and when he saw you biting your lip in effort to keep quiet, he pulled your lip out from between your teeth with his thumb, stroking it.

“I want every part of you,” he whispered on an exhale. “I want to hear every sound you make. Don’t you dare hide them.”

Shutting your eyes tightly and letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thunk, you stopped trying to suppress your whimpers and cries of his name.

“Kyle, Kyle, ah, ah, Kyle—“

“I know, gentille fille,” he said quietly. “I know.”

“Oh, God, Kyle—“ you cried out.

“Trust me, beautiful. Let go.”

You were certain you were going to die. It felt as if he continued, you would die. It felt good, it felt incredible. You didn’t know how he was simply so good, but you were so grateful for it.

“Let go,” he said again, and you fisted a hand in his unruly hair, kissing him with a desperation you hadn’t known you’d had in you. His tongue brushed against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, yearning for him.

You were going to explode after all. This orgasm, it was building inside of you, and with it, your love for him was, too, and he kept thrusting his fingers into you, kept stroking you with his thumb, and you kissed him again, for fear you couldn’t contain the words within you, but then your head leaned back of its own accord.

“Kyle Kyle Kyle please, please don’t stop—“ you moaned loudly, chanting his name like a prayer.

“I won’t,” he promised darkly. “Cum for me, amour.” You cried out again, and he leaned down and bit your neck. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Cum for me.”

“Ah ah ah, oh fuck, Kyle—“ You were sobbing now, and Kyle leaned down to suckle at your nipples, biting them gently. You practically screamed, and then you burst into starlight, and as you did, something emerged from you that you couldn’t have contained no matter how hard you tried.

“Ky,” you were sobbing.

“I know,” he murmured against your breast.

“Kyle, I love you, please, I— I love you, I love you I love you I love you, Fuck, Kyle, ah!” He froze when he heard you say it, but you were already clenching around his fingers, your body convulsing.

He pulled back from you and removed his fingers from within you, still in shock.

“Really?” He finally murmured, tilting your chin up softly. His hazel eyes gazing back into yours.

“Yeah,” you said softly, caressing his cheek. “Yeah.” You repeated louder, a smile tugging at your lips.

And they lived happily ever after blah blah blah

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