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#no for the last time I don’t take melatonin
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I am once again restarting my drawing for my Milgram fic idea (you know, instead of completing the 2 I already started or working on the backlog of fics in my WIP list). Any of you wise ones on this hellsite have an explanation as to why I can never finish anything?
New drawing:
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I had a long day of science school today, and do not have the energy to do more work. Tomorrow I will have another long day of it. And the longer I wait to get back to it, the more likely it is that I’m going to open it and go hmmmm something is wrong and instead of figuring out why, I will fuck off and start a fourth attempt.
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scuderiahoney · 5 months
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Glad You’re Here
Oscar Piastri x insomniac!reader // Tangerine Pt. 1.5
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Masterlist // Tangerine Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2
It’s been raining where I live this week and I couldn’t get this version of Oscar and reader out of my head. So, here you go- a little companion blurb from Oscar’s POV.
Word Count: 1.1k
find my other fics here, including the original one for this blurb!
Warnings: none
Oscar loves sleep. He could sleep anywhere, could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. It’s been an issue, actually- he habitually snoozes through alarms and constantly naps when he should be doing more important things.
It’s been an adjustment, dating you, because of that. It’s not that you don’t like sleep, you just… can’t. Honestly, it breaks his heart, because while tumbling into his bed at the end of the day is a relief for him, for you, it’s the opposite.
He’s watched you get worked up with exhaustion to the point of tears far too many times. He wishes he could take it all away, that he could reach deep into your brain and press the magic button that would let you sleep. You’ve tried lots of things- chamomile tea, melatonin, warm baths, hot milk and honey, but nothing seems to help.
That is, until Brazil.
It’s the end of a triple header, which is exhausting in its own way. You’re dragging, have been for days. He can see it in your eyes when you give him the update before qualis, can see the way it pulls at the corners of your lips. He wants to wrap you up in a hug and hold you there until you get so bored you fall asleep- though that doesn’t work, either. But the two of you are in public, surrounded by coworkers, so he refrains.
Dark clouds roll in over the track and cut the session short, which is less than ideal. Oscar climbs out of his car, frowning when he notices you’re missing from your usual spot in the garage. It’s odd, but not impossible. You could be in the bathroom, could be in a meeting- he’s not sure.
When he’s made it through his debrief and you’re still not back- which is odd since you’re a part of his team- he starts to get worried. Finally, he asks, trying to sound casual about it. It’s not necessarily a secret that the two of you are dating- the important people know, important being your bosses. He leans towards one of your closer coworkers, asks them if they know where you are.
“Oh, she left, I think,” she says, and Oscar feels even more concerned. “She said she didn’t sleep well last night, I think she wasn’t feeling good.”
Oscar blinks, rubs his thumb against his knee under the table. It’s odd that you wouldn’t have texted him before you left. He wonders if you went to your hotel room or his, feels a stab in his chest at the thought of you all alone and not feeling well. Not sleeping well the night before is an understatement- he knows you didn’t sleep at all, actually. You’d stayed in his room and read a book, a little light to read by and his head in your lap.
Once they dismiss him to head to the hotel, he beelines for his driver room to gather his stuff. Lando’s trying to make small talk on the way there, and when Oscar opens the door he’s following behind him. Oscar stops in his tracks, though, and Lando bumps into him, opening his mouth to make a comment when Oscar raises his hand and shushes him.
You’re there, curled up on the massage bed, tightly wound. You’re asleep.
“Oh,” Lando whispers. “I’ll go.”
Oscar nods, closes the door, walks over carefully. Your lips are barely parted, lashes tangled together, arms curled protectively around yourself. He watched the soft rise and fall of your shoulders, absolutely entranced.
The thing is, Oscar doesn’t actually see you sleep very often. When it does happen, you usually fall asleep after him, and then you wake up before him.
All of the tense energy is gone from your body. Your hair has fallen into your face, a strand across your lips that moves with every breath you take. He’s pretty sure you’re wearing one of his hoodies. You look so soft, like you’ve melted into the massage table. He wants to curl himself around you, into you, keep you close and warm and safe.
He sends Lando a text, asks him to knock quietly when the car to the hotel is ready. Then he locks the door and crosses the room. He’s so careful when he climbs onto the makeshift bed with you. He takes it inch by inch until he’s got you under one arm, his chin on top of your head. He doesn’t dare pull you close like he’d really like to, afraid of waking you up-
“Osc?” You say, voice soft.
He curses himself out in his head. He shouldn’t have risked it, should’ve just let you sleep, should’ve known this would happen. You’re going to kill him, probably- the one time you fall asleep easily, and here he is, ruining it.
“Sorry, baby,” he says, sighing. “You looked so cozy, I just thought- I didn’t mean to wake you.”
In response, you wrap one of your arms around him and pull yourself into his chest. Your cold nose brushes his neck, lips against his collarbone. You yawn and turn your face so that your cheek is pressed to his chest.
“S’okay, m’glad you’re here.” you mumble. “The storm made me sleepy.”
The rain is still pelting the side of the garage, sending the sound through the room. Every so often, there’s the distant sound of thunder. He wonders if a sound machine would help you sleep, tucks it away into his brain to try later. Right now, he brushes his lips against the crown of your forehead and rubs your back.
He opens his mouth to say something again, but then he feels it- your grip on him loosens, and your soft, even breaths wash over his neck. He pulls his head back just slightly, finds your eyes closed and your lips parted once again. You’re adorable when you’re sleeping. The relaxed look on your face makes his heart clench in his chest. He keeps rubbing your back lightly, afraid that if he’s stops you’ll wake up again.
He’s not tired, but he stays anyways. He stays and watches you sleep, even if it’s mildly creepy, even if Lando will definitely make fun of him for it if he ever finds out. He doesn’t know how long your sleep will last, so he’ll cherish every second of it.
On the car ride back to the hotel, he buys a sound machine off of Amazon. You try it the next time you can’t sleep. It doesn’t work. He waits until then to tell you the truth.
He absolutely hates thunderstorms.
a/n: thank you for all the love on the original fic!!
taglist: @4-mula1
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wcters · 1 month
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𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘
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pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: matt with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time
warnings/notes: established relationships, will probably be shorter than the last one 🤍 sorry
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- you need coffee all the time
- or just any caffeine
- always nursing a red bull or iced coffee
- probably stopped working to keep you awake after awhile but you gaslight yourself into thinking it does
- you have woken up in matt’s bed with chris beside matt who’s beside you
- like hello? when did you show up and it’s too squished
- slipper socks . . . you have cold feet a lot
- you force matt to take his shoes off if he’s going on the bed. no matte how clean they are
- will not let him leave your naps
- have your own pillow and pillowcase at his house
- always have bags under your eyes
- sometimes you can’t sleep without matt
- like you have to be touching him somehow: legs tangled up, hand holding, something
- have a playlist of just phoebe bridgers songs to fall asleep to (same)
- love stealing and sleeping in his boxers and his shirts
- you’re one of those girls who will just wear shorts and a shirt but refuse to put anything else on if you get cold
- you’ll either cuddle up to matt or get more blankets
- MELATONIN GUMMIES
- you take em’ if you are just not falling asleep cause that happens
- have definitely fallen asleep in matt’s lap or something while he’s playing video games and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up or tell you you’re in the way
- like that feeling when you have to get up when you have a cat in your lap
- sleep in a starfish position unless matt’s there
- nick, chris, and matt have so many 0.5’s of you sleeping
- #mouthbreather
- you’ve almost fallen asleep while you’re out for dinner
- have a shirt/sweater that says ‘i’m tired but i’m being brave about it’
- fall asleep to true crime
- talk about the most confusing and existential stuff and then fall asleep like nothing
- people complain you sleep too much? your just a girl 🎀
- when someone asks you to hang and and you say your busy your probably just taking a nap
- you and matt are always down for a nap
- you’re a sleepy couple
- you will set like 10 alarms to wake you up because you’ll either snooze them or sleep through them
- you always have cold water and chapstick near you when you’re napping/sleeping
- soooo delirious when you first wake up
- you prefer the room or wherever you’re having a nap to be cold
- not like freezing but under the temperature you’d usually have the house/apartment
- sleep focus? 🔛 no one is getting to you unless it’s an emergency
- you’ll text everyone who might try to reach you
- ‘i am having a nap, will not answer for anything cause i’ll be asleep 😌😌’
- matt has gifted toy essential oils or bath salts to help you sleep
- christmas morning with you SUCKS and you admit that. you hate waking up early
- matt will have to drag you out of the room
- all pissed at him and everyone else until you get your gifts or go back to sleep
- fall asleep during movie nights
- you can sleep anywhere and will
- the triplets will get home from somewhere and you’re just on the couch or sitting at their dining room table asleep
- if you don’t want up, matt will just pick you up and carry you to your room
- you’ve dropped your phone on your face before cause you fell asleep watching it
- you won’t admit it out loud . . . but you love asmr
- have a playlist of your favourites
- passenger princess, sleeper edition!
- has a headrest pillow you bought
- blanket ready to go and chair laid back if no one’s behind it
- matt draws shapes on your back
- will nap with best friends
- talk and talk and let everyone know how much you love naps
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hairyjocktf · 20 days
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Greek Vacation
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It was finally June, and Alex could barely sleep. He’d worked his ass off the last year in college to avoid having to take summer classes, which meant he could join the rest of his family on their trip to Greece. His mom had apparently won tickets or miles or something through her job, he couldn’t remember. All that mattered was he was going to Greece! It was finally time to relax and unwind from the insanely stressful last few months. He’d gone over his packing list six, seven times now; he was absolutely sure he was ready. His family was meeting him at the airport, so he was just pacing now, waiting on that text to start moving. The phone on the countertop buzzed and he lunged for it. It was time.
Alex grabbed his oversized suitcase and lugged it down the stairs of his apartment building out to the street. He hopped on the bus and found a seat. He was giddy, this trip was his dream trip as a kid, and now he was finally getting to go. He’d helped plan out their whole itinerary, from the Acropolis to the ruins at Delphi and so so many more. Before he knew it, they were dropping him at the airport. Inside the chaotic lobby he managed to spot his parents, his dad was already wearing a massive sun hat which helped. The next hour was a blur getting their bags checked, through security, and corralling everyone to the gate. Then began the longest part of the trip: the flight. Alex had brought noise canceling headphones and an extra strong dose of melatonin that he prayed would do the job. And miraculously, it did. Nearly ten hours later he woke up to the sounds of the plane landing, and next thing he knew they were in a cab headed into Athens.
The cab pulled up to their hotel, depositing them and their bags at the foot of a beautiful white building with a grand entrance. This part was his mother’s domain. She ushered everyone inside and got them to their room in no time. Alex was unpacking and setting his stuff out when he realized he couldn’t find his phone charger. He tore everything out of his suitcase and backpack, trying desperately to find it. Nothing. He must’ve left it in his haste getting out the door, after all his phone was plugged in while he was waiting. 
Shit, he thought, before solemnly announcing the news to his family.
“We’ll stop by a store or something and get you a new one, it's fine,” his mother said, buried in her own suitcase. What a start to the trip. Alex sat on the side of his bed looking out the window at the building next door, kicking his legs waiting for them to get going. Finally, after another 30 minutes, they were getting back out the door. 
Alex and his family started wandering through the massive metropolis of Athens, surrounded by white buildings and the intense noise of a city. Only a few blocks away they came upon a massive street market, with locals selling everything imaginable. Fruits, street food, bags, shirts, phones, you name it. Surely, Alex thought, they would sell a phone charger here. He squeezed up and down through tight corridors of shops, flooded with people. He was deep into the market when his path was blocked with a crowd. He turned around, only to find the way he came in also packed tight with tourists. He was stuck. As panic started to set in, Alex heard a deep, husky voice from the stall behind him.
“You there, tourist boy,” the voice said, and Alex whipped around to see a large man with dark olive skin, and the hairiest body he’d ever seen. It was on his fingers, hands, forearms, and crawled out of his open shirt solidly up to the thick bushy beard on his face that nearly hid all his features. Alex was frozen, taking in the sight of this man. He was snapped out of his daze by the man speaking again.
“You look tired, boy. Did you just arrive?” he looked Alex in the eyes.
Alex was jumbling his words, “Uh, yes, yea I did. But I slept! I shouldn’t be tired.. I don’t think…” 
The man grabbed his hand and pulled it towards him. “Here boy, this will help you,” he said in his thick accent. He took out a small beaded bracelet and slipped it onto Alex’s wrist, tying it tight. 
“Uhh, thanks?” Alex remarked, a little confused about the whole situation. The moment was interrupted by his mother’s voice piercing through the crowd.
“Alex!! Alex!! Are you over here?” Alex jerked his head towards the voice, starting to back away from the man.
“Enjoy your trip, boy,” the man said, releasing his arm and giving a slight wave. Alex turned away and pushed through the throng of people in his way, eventually reaching his mother.
“Alex! Thank god you’re okay, we lost you immediately. Here, we found someone selling chargers,” she handed him a cord, not even noticing the bracelet on his wrist. “Alright, let’s get back on track today, shall we?” she put some pep in her voice. As the family squeezed through the crowded Athenian streets, Alex failed to notice a slight itch where the bracelet clung to his wrist.
The summer sun beat down on them as they slowly made their way up the hills of Athens. Alex was sweating buckets, the back of his shirt absolutely drenched. He looked over in envy at his dad’s sun hat that he had mocked earlier. After what felt like an eternity, they made it to the base of the acropolis. Alex’s dad groaned at the sight of not only immense crowds, but another massive rock they had to climb. Alex was undeterred however, his eyes lit up with the sight of the ruins atop the hill. This was what he’d been waiting for, and he let nothing get in his way as he dragged his family into the crowd to get closer. The slight itch under the bracelet continued, unbeknownst to Alex. His skin under it was darkening to an olive shade, slowly creeping up his arm and down towards his hand. Where the darker tone had spread, hairs began popping up, thick black hairs in contrast to his light brown wispy hairs. They continued to sprout, growing in between the last, creating a dense, curly coat. The back of his hand was next, the same black hairs wriggling out. Soon enough, his forearm stuck out like a sore thumb next to the rest of his pale body, yet no one seemed to notice.
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The next couple hours were heaven for Alex. He explored the acropolis with his family, pointing out everything he’d researched and explaining even more. Between the numerous ruins and museums, the rest of the day was jam packed with artifacts. Alex even found himself remembering facts about spots he didn’t remember researching. The other constant of the day was the sun. It beat down on them from above with the full force of a Mediterranean summer, sweat constantly dripping from his forehead. It seemed like significantly more than usual for Alex, but he chalked it up to the different climate, and how much they’d been walking. Under his soaked shirt, however, his body was adapting. The deep olive color had spread all the way up his arm, with the forest of hair following, coating his upper arm. The hairs crawled over his inflating shoulder, sprinkling it with black wisps. His bicep has also grown substantially, almost like he was a regular gym-goer, matching his now beefier hand and forearm.
The sun-kissed shade continued to spread, imposing itself over his chest. Not long after, his chest began growing. It pushed out two meaty pecs, skin stretching to accommodate the immense muscles growing in slowly. His chest was sore as years of workouts applied themselves at once. The crisp definition melted somewhat as his form softened, fat layering itself onto his chest and further down as a thick muscle gut grew in. His stomach pressed tight against his shirt, stretching it to its limit. As the muscle pushed out of his frame, so did the hairs. Small black hairs began rearing their heads around his growing nipples, pushing out like thick shoots of grass. The hairs radiated away from his nipples, surging across the open fields of his pectorals, burying them in a black, curly forest. They grew longer and thicker, matting together into a rug across his chest that scratched against his shirt. The fur coat grew denser in the center of his pecs and right below, making them look like real pillow cushions. His gut tingled as the hairs began erupting, swirling together and giving his belly a thick black coat to match. By the time Alex and his family were headed to dinner it looked like he’d eaten plenty, putting on dozens of pounds.
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They sat down at a street-side restaurant that Alex had recommended, exhausted after a very active first day. While they browsed the menu, Alex scratched loosely at an itch above the neckline of his shirt. The wave of darker skin tone had slowly been inching up his neck, leading a wave of black hairs. His chest fur had overtaken his collarbone and continued to spread. His neck remained bare until, suddenly, a single dark hair sprouted above his shirt. It was black, thick, and curly. Seconds later, a second hair joined it, shooting out from his shirt collar.  More and more began sprouting, giving Alex a thick dark tuft of hair curling over his shirt. This was just the beginning, though. The dark hairs climbed up his neck, following the wave of olive complexion. Alex’s lean face cracked as it widened, jaw growing thick and square. His brow jutted out and his nose grew more prominent as his face took on the darker tone. His wavy brown hair pulled back some, turning black and more curly. The itching grew as a shadow developed across his jaw, darkening as thick stubble emerged from the bare skin. The scruff seemed to age Alex up a good few years, he seemed like a real adult with the stubble, hairy forearms, and chest hair pushing out of his shirt.
As they ate, Alex briefed his parents on their plan for the next day, starting with an early bus out to Delphi. He already knew the exact times, costs, and routes to take for the perfect day. His parents were impressed at how well researched he was, not noticing the dark scruff covering their son’s face. They finished up dinner and caught a cab home, knowing they had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day.
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The next morning came quickly, and with some disgruntled grumbling from his parents, they were off on their bus to Delphi. It was a three hour trip, so they settled into their seats and his parents tried to get a little more rest. Alex stared eagerly out the window, watching the mountains rush past with the sea behind. As the ride went on, he found himself shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like his body was agitated and he couldn’t figure out why. He tried to focus on the beautiful scenery and the maps of their destination instead. In reality, beneath his clothes, the slow moving wave of Mediterranean skin had crossed his muscle gut and reached his groin. It swept through his crotch, seeding the growth of new hair. His existent bush was sparse, and was quickly engulfed by the torrent of dark curly hairs that erupted from the base of his cock, spreading outward. Black hairs wormed out of his skin like weeds coating the entire area, pushing up towards his navel in a triangle pattern, and out onto his thighs.
Alex tried to subtly scratch at the area as the itching grew intense, using his map to hide his meaty hands groping the area. His flaccid cock absorbed the same olive color, and a thick foreskin stretched itself back over the head. It didn’t stay soft for long, engorging and pushing six, seven, eight inches in his pants. Alex shifted again to try and keep comfortable in his seat, but the growing rod was not helping him, leaving a massive imprint on his shorts. His bush continued to thicken, hairs sprouting between others, curling together into an impenetrable forest. The hairs even started climbing the base of his cock, popping out a ways up. There was a thud on the seat when Alex’s balls suddenly inflated to the size of baseballs, his sack growing furry as the same curly black hairs engulfed them. Alex had spread his legs as much as he could, he was practically on top of the guy in the seat next to him, and he was still feeling squeezed. He was about to reach his limit when the bus came to a stop. They had made it.
Like it was instinct, Alex gathered his parents and started their exploration of the site. He took them to the Temple of Apollo, the museum, and the spring. It was another relentlessly hot day, and within minutes he had started sweating buckets. He ignored it to continue guiding his parents around, but it began to take a toll. Underneath his arms, his paltry smattering of hair was starting to soak up some color, growing thicker and darker. The more sweat dripped from his pits the more hair began to shoot out of them, catching the drops and adding to the stench that began to waft from him. Throughout the morning, more and more hairs poked out from under his arms. His beefy arms weren’t able to hide the enormous tufts of hair that were pushing out of his pits, kept nice and damp from the heat. 
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They stopped briefly for lunch at a spot Alex knew and recommended, taking a break from the heat before they continued walking through the town. Alex scratched at his face, his fingers pulling through a little more hair than they had the night before. The meal was a nice reprieve, showcasing some delicious local cuisine to his parents. He took the chance to explain their next destinations, and before long they were back walking up the hills. Alex was glad he’d worn shorts today, it was brutal even for June. His exposed legs had begun taking on the same tone as the rest of him, no longer standing out as pale twigs. Curly hairs brushed against his shorts as they grew en masse, traveling from his pubes downward. The hairs pushed out of his growing thighs, a burgeoning field of dark curls spreading across them. His calves experienced the same, putting on size before getting engulfed with black hair.
They’d made it to the stadium and viewpoint at the top. Alex left the couple to take in the vista and address his current problem; his shoes were way too tight. Luckily, it seemed he’d worn sandals for the day. He bent over to loosen the straps, giving some breathing room to his now size 15 feet, not noticing the coarse hairs popping out across the tops of them. Even his toes were hairy now. He stood back up and looked out over the valley, scratching his ass that had been a little itchy. The same thick curly hairs had started bursting out of his crack, creating a furry mass between his cheeks. The hairs spread out, growing like weeds over the expanse of his ass. The sweat dripping down his widening back helped the hairs take root, and they shot upward sprouting from the small of his back. His lats grew darker as black fur erupted before climbing up to his neck and blending with the thick coating on his shoulders. The coarse curly hairs grew dense and long enough to push his damp shirt nearly an inch away from his body all around. Curly black hairs poked out of the back of his shirt collar too, mirroring the front side.
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The sun had begun to hang lower in the sky, signaling it time to head back to the bus station. Alex’s legs had bulked up enough to handle the constant walking up and down, as he should be used to it by now. He guided the couple back down to the town and they got on their way back to Athens, another multi-hour journey. He felt his seat was even smaller this time, his body having swelled with muscle and mass throughout the day. As the bus bumped along the mountain roads, Alex stared at his reflection in the window. His short beard was pushing out. Hairs grew longer, curling together. More hairs sprouted to fill the gaps, climbing higher on his cheeks. The beard grew incredibly dense, adding another couple years to his face. He finally gave in and scooted over, taking up both seats. The bulky man then closed his eyes for an hour until the familiar noise of Athens began leaking through the windows. 
They stopped at the station, and he grabbed the couple’s bags from the rack. WIth that motion, his short sleeve shirt that had been taught against his massive chest all day gave out, bursting open. His thick chest and belly and the incredible rug that covered them were exposed, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for him, especially in the summer. He lugged the bags to the curb and handed them over. The woman was exhausted looking, but still had a beaming smile.
“Oh, thank you so much Alexios! You’ve been amazing these last two days.” He swallowed, a large adam’s apple bulging out of his throat, “You’re very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your visit to Greece,” he said with a baritone voice and accent.
The man handed him a large stack of bills as a thank you, and the two headed off towards their hotel. Alexios sighed, it had been an exhausting day. And after all that, he needed to prepare for the new tourists he was to guide the next day.
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Hey y'all, I was going to start on the poll story but it's been so close I couldn't predict it! So enjoy this race change tf in the mean time. Speaking of which, if you havent yet, go vote in the poll for the next story! There's still 2 days left.
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sehodreams · 10 days
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extra points
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TW and tags: professor!Eunseok x student!reader, anxiety (lots of it, with added overthinking), pet names, reader is a crybaby, clothed humping, fluff (comforting I believe), even if everything sounds nice here, obviously a relationship with your professor is not okay (there's power imbalance just for the fact she's a student and he a professor).
WC: 5.2k
Summary: You want to always make him proud of you.
Comment: A bit self-indulgent since I've had a crush on a professor each semester and I also had anxiety when they praised me. Hope it makes other academic weapons here feel a bit seen. Also, tried to check the grammar and times, but idk, now it feels a bit robotic, please tell me if I should write everything in the past time again, just wanted to try something new. A bit ass, sorry, it feels as if I've forgotten how to write.
Staring at the words on your screen that no longer make sense, you try to calm your nerves down, except, you can’t forget the way your professor looked at you before he dismissed your group.
You want to cry, but you have already cried enough. Then you want to scream, but it's 3am and your parents will kill you. You start to ponder your last choice, kill yourself, but even in your head that’s a bit too much.
You just don’t know what to do with everything you’re feeling at that moment. Wishing you could be as nonchalant as your friends, you want to stop thinking about his disappointed face when you finished your exam, because maybe you’re overthinking it, perhaps it wasn’t even that bad.
No, you’re wrong. It wasn’t perfect, and for you, that’s already bad enough.
You try to go to sleep, that should help you. You watch the bottle of melatonin in your nightstand, so closing your laptop, you grab it, take three pills instead of one, and beg the gods you’ve never believed in to make you sleep until the next morning.
Of course, before you drift away, you set your three alarms to arrive on time to his class.
You’re used to walking there filled with anxiety. You always wonder if you’re going to have the answers he wants to hear that day, or if you did good in your last test. It’s terrible, stressful, and the knot on your chest is, for anyone else, a sign that they should chill out, but to you, is a sign that you should do better.
Your mother always says that the person who knows they’ve done everything they could has no reason to feel nervous, and that has pushed you to think you never do enough because she also says you can always do more.
It’s always been the same since that semester started, you go there filled with anxiety, you raise your hand whenever he makes a question to the public, and you feel the knot loosening with each minute that passes and with his smile when you say the correct answer.
You have to admit that, when the class finishes and he says goodbye with that proud smile, you feel as if all your stress and your time invested in reading all the material he has shared makes sense. It feels a bit good, and you’re addicted to that sensation.
He only wants you to reach your full potential. He has said it to the entire classroom, that all those articles and books he has shared are only for them to always have an answer out there in the real world. He says it to the public, but the extra material he emails you makes you feel special.
You’re special, right? He wouldn’t be going out of his way to give you more knowledge if it wasn’t like that.
When you arrive to the classroom you’re pale, and your friends try to tell you that everything will be fine to calm you down, but you can’t.
You’re spiralling into anxiety, and not because you have done bad, but because you have disappointed him.
When he dismissed you, he hadn’t smiled at you, he hadn’t shown you that happy expression he always has when you’ve met his expectations, and even more, he hadn’t said well done.
And if you weren’t his best student, you didn’t want to be there.
Not much later he arrives and tells everyone that he will share the grades in his office, so all of you should go to have a private talk with him when you have time if you want feedback, and if you don’t, the grades would be in the platform the next day.
The class goes as it usually does, smooth, and silent.
He does a couple questions, and you answer them after no one raises his hand and you leave the five-second space in case anyone else wants to talk first, so everything is as normal as it can be, but instead of feeling relaxed with the time passing, you feel worse.
One of your friends tells you to meet her in the cafeteria after you finish talking with the professor, that she will buy you a coffee to cheer you up, and you smile to pretend you’re okay, but you’re fucking not.
You feel like throwing up while walking to his office, but you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, what would you throw up at that point?
It doesn’t take too much time for him to tell you to come in after you respectfully knock on his door two times. You hear him moving papers inside when you open the door, and when you walk in, you both say good afternoon before you sit.
He doesn’t search for anything, the paper he had in his hands was yours, as if he knew you would be the first person to go and see him.
‘’Well done’’ it’s all he says.
He gives you a sheet with your grades until that date and you want to feel relaxed because all of them look good, just one, the last one, is not the perfect grade you’re used to, by one point. Then, you look at his eyes, waiting for more words from him, anything, just something, a praise you hope.
‘’Are you okay?’’ he asks you. You don’t need to be a genius to know how your face must look at that moment, pale and unfocused, like any person at the border of fainting.
You’re not about to faint, you’re about to cry, which is even worse.
Your eyes prickle and your shoulders shake. They’re coming, and you wish they didn’t, because they’re the kind that can’t be stopped for a long time.
‘’Yes’’ you say and almost immediately you start crying. ‘’I’m sorry’’.
Eunseok’s eyes open and he circles his desk to meet you. He doesn’t know what to do to help you, you’re shaking, and your tears come out like a flood that nothing will dry.
‘’What’s wrong?’’ you feel he wants to say another word, maybe a baby, but of course, it is not appropriate.
‘’I’m sorry’’ it’s the only thing that comes out of your mouth.
It breaks him to see you like that, his best student, falling apart.
He knows a lot of things, he has a career teaching, yet he’s completely lost there with you shaking in front of him.
His hands move before he can think, which is a stupid move for someone his age, used to always thinking twice before doing anything.
He had to think about taking that position a month before he accepted. He was never one for teaching, more into working on his own. If he had to admit it, he was never into interacting with a bunch of kids even when he was a student, but you had changed his perspective, making him happy to go to work every morning you would sit in his class, knowing someone would happily answer instead of leaving him talking all alone for two hours.
‘’It’s okay’’ he murmurs, caressing your shoulders with his wide palms. ‘’You did good, what’s the problem?’’
You don’t answer him, standing and denying with your head, trying to go to the door.
Looking at your trembling lip and your furrowed eyebrows, his heart flinches, and he doesn’t let you leave, holding you in his arms instead.
Your arms wrap him back, tearing face pressed against his chest while he caresses your hair and lets you sob.
It’s so embarrassing you feel like crying even more, because what would he think of you from that moment on? So pathetic, crying like a child when you were a grown woman.
You’ve tried to look perfect for him for so long, and everything had gone to shit in just a second.
Still, you don’t want to let him go.
He is warm and comforting. His aroma is earthy, woody, manly. His hands feel good against you, one on your back, slowly patting you to soothe you, and the other on the back of your head, feeling your hair. However, the best thing has to be his voice so close to your ear, deep and calming you with the way he doesn’t shush and lets you cry as much as you want.
‘’It’s okay’’ he murmurs, letting you hug him even harder. He doesn’t want to think you’re crying because of him, but what else could be the reason for those fat tears bothering your pretty eyes? ‘’Is it me? Have I done anything to you? Am I being too much?’’ he had never thought he was pushing you that much, but now that he realizes, he had never treated another student, or person, like he had treated you. He wants to excuse himself with the thought of all the potential you have, you’re so smart, he couldn’t treat you as if you were just any student.
But in the end, he reminds himself, you’re just a student. He doubted you had even worked once in your life, because no one working or that thought about other things that weren’t his classes would be able to keep up with everything he was giving you.
You denied his questions, even if it was, you couldn’t tell him it was because of him. It was because of you and your stupid head not letting you sleep with the thought of disappointing him.
‘’No’’ you sob, and your hands grip his shirt, wrinkling the pristine fabric. ‘’It’s just me, I’m sorry’’.
His arms get tighter around you, almost too much. You sniffle to make your cries stop. ‘’It’s okay, I’m sorry too’’ he says because you hadn’t said out loud, but he knows you’re like that because of him.
‘’Please don’t treat me differently’’ you beg because you don’t want him to change. You want to continue receiving his emails with more work, you want him to keep having expectations of you, and you want him to keep being proud of you.
You want to be special to him because he’s special to you. You weren’t like that for any other professor, and not any other treated you like that either.
You have good grades with everyone else, but none of them make you want to give all of you to their courses. You do exactly what’s necessary and then you leave it there. But, again, none of them were him.
It’s not something that you wanted that to happen.
The ability to follow him with your eyes, concentrating on every of his moves while your hands moved on your keyboard on their own was something that had developed with time, like your feelings for him, and everything started with that silly smile gifted to you when you made him a question about something you hadn’t understood in one of the articles.
‘’It’s the first time anyone has asked me about it, I had started to think no one read the material’’ he had said, innocently smiling at you, no idea forming in his head about what your insides felt when he showed it to you.
Everyone said that he was evil, grading all his students without compassion and telling them without an ounce of fear if they didn’t meet his expectations. He said there was only one person who did good in his class all the time, and everyone (including you) knew who that person was even if he didn’t say the name. All that had made you feel things you shouldn’t for him.
Another knock on his door startles you two, and you have to move apart. He looks at you, and one of his hands goes to your cheek to clean the gleaming left by the tears, but you’re faster and clean your eyes with your hands before you say you should leave, not giving him time enough to say anything.
The same afternoon everyone starts to get anxious in the group chat and you silence them. The student who saw you running out of his office says that you were crying, so everyone believes that you flunked, and if you did bad, none of them had hope to even pass.
When your friend calls you and asks why you were crying you say that it was nothing, just stress, and that you didn’t do as bad as everyone thinks.
She believes you because, of course, you're a good girl and you don't have a reason to lie. You have no reason to feel you’ve done anything wrong, but you feel as if you had done something you shouldn’t.
First, you were embarrassed for crying in front of him, but if you had done only that, you doubted you would be having that pressure in the pitch of your abdomen. Then, you recognized what you were feeling, desire, and you definitely shouldn't be feeling that towards your professor.
It’s weird, even if it’s not okay for you to feel that way, you admit to yourself that it felt good to be held by him. He shouldn’t have hugged you, you know that, and you fool yourself thinking it was the only thing he could’ve done in that situation and that he’d have done it with anyone too.
When you receive his email with the extra material you notice that there’s less than usual and that he has written something extra apart from the typical small message listing the titles with a Best regards, Dr. Song.
He starts with a Miss next to your name, and you read it with his voice, hearing him close, just like when he whispered next to your ear. If there is any occasion in which my office or advice is needed, please do not hesitate to come to me, my door is always open.
You don’t know what to say.
You want to say thank you, but an apology feels more correct, and just like in those exams in which you get points deducted for answering wrong, you prefer to not answer at all.
The next class, you sit way in the back, and you don’t answer any of his questions after your five-second stop, to what other students, not daring to let the silent tension stay, start to give short unsatisfactory answers that make Eunseok nod instead of proudly smile.
By the end of it, you slip out of the room with your friends, which is unusual for them since they’re used to waiting for you in the cafeteria.
‘’Don’t you have any question today?’’ one of them asks you.
‘’Not today’’ you say with the excuse of not feeling good, walking faster for them to follow you.
You feel ashamed every time you’re in front of him. The sensation of his arms around you keeps replying in your head, and you shiver when you hear his voice in your head at night. You want him in a way you shouldn’t, and it doesn’t feel like an innocent crush anymore.
You can only continue like that for two more classes before he calls your name and asks you to stay back.
Your friends don’t ask anything, but they direct a suspicious sight at you two. They had joked before saying that you two had a love quarrel when you didn’t answer his questions the second time, which had started to feel weirdly real.
‘’Don’t be silly’’ you laugh. ‘’I just don’t want to stress myself more than necessary anymore.’’
What you say makes sense in everyone’s ears, you really had to chill out, especially after that last crisis.
You nod at them, and they leave without question.
You stay away enough from him, waiting for him to talk. He sees it and sighs, shoving papers into his portfolio without a second look.
‘’I can’t help but notice there’s something different in your participation in class’’ he says. ‘’And I’m sure is related to what happened in my office.’’
‘’Nothing happened Sir, I just haven’t been feeling good’’ you don’t entirely lie. You can’t seem to function around him anymore, even in that moment, you have to resist the need of pressing your thighs to stop that need you’ve developed for his touch since that day.
When he folds his arms in front of his chest and leans back into the big desk, you gulp. He looks so fucking good you can’t pull away your eyes from the way they flex and how they look covered by his simple black shirt with the first button open.
‘’I expected more from you Miss’’ he says, and you, like instinct, feel incredibly bad again.
‘’I’m- I’m sorry’’ you say, trying to stop your eyes from prickling again.
He notices your change. It’s not hard to recognize. Suddenly, you become smaller, and you blink faster, biting the inside of your cheek.
‘’I’m not scolding you’’ he clarifies. His hand gets closer to you, touching the border of your hoodie to get your attention on him instead of the floor. You didn’t notice the way you had moved your eyes from his arms to the floor, and when you see his focused eyes on your face, you feel vulnerable. ‘’You’re my student and if you’re acting this different, I can’t ignore it’’ his eyes are on yours and his thumb and his index are still holding your clothes, playing with the fabric, ‘’I just want to know you’re okay’’.
Warmness floods you. You want to hug him again, you want him to hold you, and for him to whisper that everything is okay over your ear. No, now, you want more than a simple hug.
‘’I’ll do better Sir, I’m sorry’’ you say, and he feels you’re saying the truth this time, so he slowly nods, and his hand leaves you.
You have to gulp the whimper that wants to leave your throat after he smiles at you.
You’re fucking disgusting you tell yourself when that night you want to find relief with him in your mind.
The next days are full of pain. You want to feel him so bad you don’t even know what to do anymore. Your hands are not enough, and the hands of the boy you had let touch you on that stupid Tinder date weren’t enough either.
You had started to answer his questions in class again, lifting his mood and freeing everyone from the uncomfortable moment of having to talk to fill the silence.
‘’Did you reconcile?’’ someone jokes.
‘’We never fought to start’’ you laugh and push their shoulder to leave you alone. ‘’I just want to keep my good profile and my grades’’.
Wanting to be closer to him, you’ve even volunteered to help him grade his tests, reason why you were on his office’s couch at that moment, with a thousand papers spraddled in the little coffee table in front of you and a hand full of red tint marks.
You have less time for yourself now that you’re his little assistant, but you continue reading everything he sends you at night, feeling a bit more tired from the lack of hours of sleep.
Still, everything is worth it when you receive his texts asking for your help or when you buy yourself a cup of overly sweet coffee with the card full of coffee cash he had gifted you.
‘’For your time’’ he timidly slid the gift card to you, and you couldn’t believe your eyes because you were sure no professor gave their assistants anything at all.
You wanted to say no, and you were about to, but the wide smile on your face had been faster than your brain.
‘’I was afraid you were going to reject it’’ he laughed, showing you a new face of him you hadn’t seen before. When he truly laughs, you notice, his cheekbones become more notorious, and his grin is big, showing a bit of the gummy area of his teeth, to what you tell yourself, you wouldn’t dare to deny him anything anymore.
Waking up to the sound of your alarm, you see that it is not the alarm for waking up, but the one that tells you to go out if you don’t want to lose the bus.
You get ready quicker than ever, only brushing your teeth and running out, thanking the world that you took a late-night shower just in case.
Your look is terrible, not that you dress nicely every day, but not as bad as that day, and the world you thanked before seems to laugh at you now, making you lose your bus and making you spend money that you don’t have as cab fare.
When you arrive, you’re almost an hour late, and you don’t dare to push the door open, watching through the little window how your professor is already talking loudly inside.
Eunseok doesn’t turn to you, and you prefer that. You know that he’s exigent with times, he doesn’t even give extra minutes to people that talk too much in presentations. We have to respect everyone’s times he has said on too many occasions for you to forget.
It’s the first time you’re late to his class, and you blame yourself for not putting in more alarms when you went to sleep so late after reading the last paper he had sent you.
You don’t dare to stay there; you don’t even dare to go to the only coffee shop around to wait until your next class because you feel undeserving of spending the coffee money he had given you. You walk to the library with sad eyes and hide in the archaeology section to cry.
No one studies archaeology in your school so you cry in peace until you receive a couple of texts from your friends asking where you are and one from him.
Are you okay? you read.
Yes, I’m sorry, you reply.
Come to my office.
You knock on his door and wait for him to talk even when he has told you multiple times to just go in if you don’t hear voices inside, but you still don’t dare to do it.
‘’Come in’’ he says, and you finally open the door. You don’t walk inside as soon as he talks. He’s ruffling between documents, and you first stand and just look at him from where you are, and then, when he makes eye contact with you, you close the door behind you and give a few steps closer, leaving your bag on his coffee table before you sit in front of him. He waits for you to talk and when he notices that you won’t, he does it, ‘’What happened?’’
‘’I was late…’’ you say, ‘’It’s my fault, I’m sorry’’.
‘’But why? Did anything happen to you on the way here? I need you to talk to me, I don’t know what happened to you if you don’t’’ what he says makes sense, but you feel like saying more would be making excuses. Your parents hate excuses and have always taught you to only say what’s necessary if you’ve done something wrong. In this case, you’re sure you did something wrong.
‘’I’m sorry’’ your breath starts to get harder, and your eyes get a bit wet.
He stands up and walks to you. You think he’s going to lean on the desk like he usually does when he explains something to the room, but he surprises you by moving your seat and caging you in it, slightly bending and inspecting your face.
‘’I’ll repeat my question, and I want you to stop saying you’re sorry’’ he talks, obliging you to maintain your eyes on his with how close he is. ‘’Did anything happen to you when you were coming here?’’
‘’No’’ you answer like you can.
‘’Then what happened?’’ he asks.
‘’I-I fell asleep’’ you finally say.
He sighs, looking relieved, however, you think he sighs because that's the worst reason you could’ve given, and that makes you more embarrassed.
‘’No, wait, it’s okay’’ he smiles when your eyebrows frown to contain what he recognizes as dangerous tears with how shiny your eyes are getting. ‘’Such a crybaby’’ he laughs then, cupping the side of your cheek and cleaning one of the tears that escaped with his thumb.
‘’I’m-‘’
‘’For fucks sake, stop saying you’re sorry, you’ve done nothing to be sorry for’’ he interrupts you before you finish talking and you have to contain another sorry inside your chest. ‘’Sorry’’ he says, making you smile without knowing why. ‘’I’m just glad nothing bad happened to you, I was so worried the whole time, it’s the first time you’ve ever been absent from my class.’’
‘’I was almost an hour late’’ with his palms still on your cheeks, you felt a lot calmer, ‘’I know you don’t like late showers, so I didn’t dare to knock on the door’’.
‘’Oh doll, you should know by now that you’re always the exception.’’
He’s so tender with you, and his voice is so comforting, that you want to close your eyes and just stay with him in that position.
So, you do it, you close your eyes and exhale through your nose, feeling all anxiety disappear from your insides, and you only open them again because Eunseok is kissing you, and you can’t believe what you’re feeling.
The kiss is so soft. His lips feel perfect against yours, smooth and slightly damp. You don’t know what makes you so bold, but your hands go to his neck to not let him move away. At first it was superficial, just lips touching, to then get deeper after you showed equal eagerness.
It’s not much after, as if both of you had been needing to feel each other for a long time, that his tongue caresses your lips to make you accept him, which you do immediately.
The kiss is getting so messy that for a second, he has to breathe over your mouth. Both breaths are hot and fall over each other’s open mouths, making you let a low moan out with the sensation.
Everything is really happening, and you feel your panties get wet with his simple kiss.
He takes your breath again with a groan, making you stand from your seat to pose his hands on your back and press you against his body.
You whimper feeling his belt pinch you and his hand on your back getting lower. Your hands want to do something, so instead of staying still on his neck, they go to feel his hair.
Even his hair felt good.
Silk on your hands, you let him press his thigh on your sex, moving your hips to feel him more.
‘’Fuck, this is so not okay’’ he frowns, lips going to attack your neck while you close your eyes and let him move your hips to meet his thigh and make you more of a mess inside your pants. He stops for a minute, frowning because of how his common sense screams that what he's doing is wrong in so many aspects.
‘’No- don’t stop, please’’ you beg in a whisper. You can’t be loud, you know that what you’re doing is not okay, yet you’ve been needing him for so long, you can’t stop him, and he doesn't want either.
‘’Such a good girl, always making me so proud, fuck, I won’t be able to let you go’’ he says, retaking his past action and making you hump him with both of his hands pushing your hips back and forth his tailored pants.
They’re black, simple, elegant, like him, and you want to cry because it feels like a dream.
‘’Always being so good to me, you’re gonna cum for me like this, right?’’ he asks, biting the side of your neck, making your eyes roll with how close you are to finding your orgasm.
You can’t talk or you’ll moan, you know your body, so you bite your lip and nod while gripping onto his shirt.
His chest is big, and you can’t help but rub your own to his. There, you notice that your sports bra and your hoodie do nothing to impede your hard nipples from feeling good.
He must notice the way you desperately need his attention on your chest, so one of his hands goes from your hip to directly touch you under your shirt.
‘’My pretty girl, can’t believe I’ve endured so long without touching you’’ you can’t believe he calls you pretty when at that moment you feel you look like shit, but he proves you wrong, groping your chest with need, fondling it, to then play with your nipple. His thumb is sweeping it with experience, making you dizzy with all the stimulations together.
Your cunt clenches when you press your clit on his leg, you start to hump him on your own, setting your own pace to cum, and opening your eyes to look at his face, you see shiny white dots.
Your drunken expression makes him let a breathy laugh free, and you cum with a louder whimper the moment you see his smile directed at you.
He stops his attention on your chest and lets you ride down your high while lovingly caressing your back and holding you in his arms.
You need a minute before all clearance is back in your mind and shame starts invading you because you just… well, you haven’t fucked, but you know you’ve done a lot more than a simply making out session.
Your trembling legs and the mess inside your pants are enough proof of that. You’ve never felt anything close to that in your life, so good you had no doubt you could get easily addicted.
Shame is not enough to stop you, and feeling his erection against your abdomen, you feel bad for being the only one who has had an orgasm.
‘’I- I want to make you feel good too’’ you say, inhaling his aroma and hiding your face on his shoulder.
‘’We can’t do more…’’ his arms get tighter around you, not letting you get away before he can finish, knowing the ideas that were already forming in your head about him not wanting to touch you. ‘’Not here.’’
You nod relieved.
Your phone starts ringing, and he lets you get apart enough for you to grab it out of your pocket to see who’s calling you. It’s your alarm for your next class.
‘’Busy?’’ he asks, reading the clear Math II that appears on your screen.
‘’Nah’’ you say. You hate math, and you like Eunseok, so it’s not hard to choose between them. Shoving your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you press your body to his and hug him again.
He laughs and his hands move from the small of your back to your ass, to where your phone is, and he gives you a soft smack on the free area.
‘’Go to class, can’t let my star student get distracted if I want to keep showing off how good you do in mine’’ he says, and you feel so happy with the idea of him talking about you with others that you become weaker in his arms. ‘’I’ll call you later.’’
You reluctantly move apart from his arms when he pushes you to the door and gives you your bag. In front of his door, before he opens it for you, he gives you a long-lasting kiss that feels more like a peck. Then, pushing you out softly, he makes you leave his office, and when you turn back to see him one last time, he’s smiling at you, which makes you smile the rest of the day too.
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fancycat-thesilvertux · 11 months
Text
Okay, so I’m a fan of Brain Dead - these two overworked boys who need hugs, melatonin, and to sleep in a comfortable pillow fort while wrapped in soft blankets like burritos (bonus points if it’s actual tortilla-pattern blankets) - and I’m also a fan of petty revenge like -
Tim accidentally getting married to Ghost King Danny because Red Robin got captured and used as a sacrifice by a cult to summon the Ghost King to reign destruction but mishap someone forgot to read up on their runes so the “sacrifice” was actually a “sacrificial bride”, meaning magical contract between GK!Danny and Tim.
And Danny, when he gets summoned and realizes what happened, is like, nope. Takes down the cultists, does abscond with Red Robin just to explain the situation and how right now, the dude is his Queen Consort or co-king because magically enforced marriage at least they don’t have to copulate that would have been even worse. And Tim is just computer crashing as he gets an information dump on how one, there’s another realm that’s, two, filled with dead people who, three, is ruled by a guy his age and who, four, Tim is now married to because, five, cultists really need to do their hOMEWORK WHAT THE HELL -
And did I mention that the contract lets them know no secrets between them? So Danny knows who Tim is meaning he knows who the Batfam is but that’s okay since Tim knows who Danny is and oh wow that explains a lot about Jason now with the ecto-contamination by impure ectoplasm -
And Tim really doesn’t want to tell the Batfam what happened since he still has insecurities regarding his place in the family which isn’t helped by their treatment - and Danny is seething because him and Tim actually get along pretty well as friends and Tim has quickly worked his way into Danny’s Obsession of Protecc because Danny will always protect those he cares about and he doesn’t like how Tim gets treated especially when it came to learning about Tim’s missing spleen.
Now here’s the funny part of this AU - because of the marriage contract between Danny and Tim, Tim gets the perks of being Queen Consort/co-king in having power over ectoplasmic beings, so when Jason’s going in on Tim who has been stressed from the situation despite Danny and Tim’s new friends in Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Jazz, and Dani (and Dan if you want to include him) doing their best to help him destress which he greatly appreciates, is still operating on little to no sleep, AND just found out that somebody replaced his extra strong coffee with decaf, Jason who calls Tim “Replacement” one last time -
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Tim snarled at Jason, his eyes glowing a scarily familiar green to the Batfam. Jason’s own eyes began to glow green in response, but instead of his feeling angry, the Pits encouraging him to hurt, Jason can feel the Pits actually COWERING back instead this time, and an incredible urge to not say another peep.
Meanwhile the rest of the Batfam is also freaking out because holy shit when did Tim take a dip in the Pits?!
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months
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Ethan Landry x Reader second chance trope?? They can be at a party since there obviously still in the same friend group w the group and they take there anger they’ve been keeping in out on eachother by sex. But after the get back tg obvi xxx🩷
I wanted to post this last night but my melatonin kicked in and the words I was typing made zero sense haha. I hope you like it!
New Perspective - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: After your breakup with Ethan, you run into him at a party after avoiding him for months.
Contains: Mentions of a break-up, angst, underage drinking, Oral - F!Recieving, p in v sex
A/N: I hope y'all like it:) There's a ton of dialog lmao
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When Ethan broke up with you, you were devastated. It was his first relationship, and he didn’t know how to work through the rough patches. He always seemed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, and that really put a strain on things. He thought that he made you unhappy, and regardless of how much he loved you, he couldn’t put you through it anymore.
Since that night, you’ve only been around him a few times. It sucked that you had the same friend group, because you didn’t have time to grieve the loss of the relationship. You eventually became distant from your friends, not wanting to see him. He was always with Chad, and Tara always wanted Chad around. The only ones you still see on a regular basis are Mindy and Anika, and even though they’re cool with Ethan, they still were loyal to you.
When Mindy showed up to your dorm and started to beg you to come out to a party, it was the last thing you felt like doing.
“Come on, you need to get out and do something. This whole ‘moping in your room’ thing isn’t like you,” she said, flopping onto your bed.
“You know Ethan will probably be there…I’m not ready to see him,” you sighed, laying down beside her.
“Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing for you to see him. Maybe you could try to be friends like you were before you started dating,” Mindy suggested, “We all miss you…Ethan does, too.”
You scoffed at her words, “I highly doubt that.”
“No, seriously. He’s always asking me how you’re doing.”
You sat up and got off your bed. “Fine, I’ll go. But if it’s too hard for me to be around him, I probably won’t stay long,” you said, a smile forming on Mindy’s face.
“Yes! We’re going to have so much fun,” she looked over your appearance, “Okay, get out of the sweatpants and let’s go!”
You stopped by Anika’s dorm on the way to pick her up. She was beaming the second she saw you.
“Ahhh I’m so excited you’re going to the party!” she squealed. You giggled at her enthusiasm.
“I told Mindy that I might not stay long,” you said, as you started the walk to the frat house.
“Even if we only get you for a little bit, that’s all that matters.”
The bass from the music in the house was so loud that the sidewalk was vibrating as you walked up to the door. When you made it inside, the three of you went to the kitchen to get a drink.
“Whoa, I don’t think you need that much,” Mindy said, as you added vodka to your cup.
“I’m not going to chug it, I’m just going to sip it,” you laughed, adding some juice.
“Hey!” you heard Tara yell as she wrapped an arm around you. “I’m so happy you came.”
“How much have you had to drink?” you asked with a smile, the slight slur in her speech hinting that she’s probably had enough.
“Not that much, Chad cut me off,” she said, as he walked up beside her.
“Yeah, she gets feisty when she drinks to much,” Chad joked, as Tara nudged him. “It’s great to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you guys, too,” you said, as you looked behind him. A familiar set of brown eyes connected with yours.
Your breath hitched in your throat as he smiled, the simple action making you want to take a sip of your drink.
You turned to Mindy, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
“Yes, you are. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” she said, leading you away from him to the living room.
As you leaned against the wall with Mindy and Anika, one of the guys you recognized from your writing class came up to you.
“Hey, you want to dance?” he asked, his hand reaching out to take yours. You looked over to Mindy, her eyes encouraging you.
“Fuck it, sure,” you said, grabbing his hand.
He led you to the middle of the floor, his hands going to your waist. You didn’t even know his name; you didn’t really care. You just needed to have fun.
Ethan searched for you, wanting to talk. He saw Mindy and Anika on the other side of the room.
“Did she leave?” Ethan asked Mindy as he walked up to her.
“No, not really,” she said, as he looked in the direction she was.
His heart dropped as he watched you dance with another guy’s hands on you. He felt sick to his stomach, wishing those hands were his.
“Who’s that?” he asked, as Anika smirked.
“Why, you jealous?” she asked, as Ethan’s cheeks started to turn pink. It wasn’t obvious in the poorly lit house, which he was thankful for.
“No, I want her to be happy,” he sighed, looking back over to you.
You swayed to the music, one of your hands on his shoulder as the other held your drink. His hands kept moving, running over the curve of your ass as he pulled you closer.
“Keep your hands on my hips,” your voice was playful but stern.
“I like them where they are,” he mumbled, as his hands squeezed you.
Ethan was watching the whole interaction, fury building inside him as he watched the guy’s hands roam. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“Seriously, stop,” you said, as his body was pulled away from yours.
“Don’t touch her like that,” Ethan snapped, as the guy raised his hands.
“Sorry dude, I thought you broke up with her.”
“He did,” you said before turning to Ethan, “I can take care of myself.”
“What, I’m just supposed to be okay with another guy’s hands on you?” Ethan questioned, his eyes pleading with yours. You looked over to Mindy, a smirk on her face after watching Ethan stick up for you.
“Let’s go talk.”
You took his hand in yours and led him to one of the few vacant bedrooms upstairs, locking the door after you walked in. Your heart was pounding, but you needed to have a conversation, and didn’t want to be interrupted.
You both sat down on the edge of the bed, as you started to get mad. You’ve held in so many emotions since the breakup, and anger seemed to be the one threatening to escape.
“You do know you can’t get upset when you’re the one that gave up on us, right?” you asked, as he looked over at you.
“I didn’t want to give up, but you weren’t happy,” he sighed, looking back down to his lap.
“I was happy with you. Every relationship has their issues…you just didn’t want to work through them.”
“You didn’t make it easy, though,” he looked back up, “I think it’s best that we did break up. All we did was argue the last month we were together.”
“How can you say that’s what was best when you weren’t okay with someone else’s hands on me?” you snapped, “You can’t just not want to be with me, but not want anyone else to have me either. That’s just selfish.”
“You’re the one that’s selfish…your emotions seemed to be the only ones that mattered.”
“What the fuck, Ethan? I tried so hard to make you happy, too!” you were starting to get frustrated when you stood up, “This was a mistake. I was hoping we could at least be friends, but I don’t think that’ll work. At least not right now”
You started to open the door when Ethan pushed it shut. When you turned to face him, you could tell he was mad that you wanted to walk away.
“We’re done, remember?” you snapped, before he pushed you against the door.
“No, we aren’t.”
He leaned in, his lips connecting to yours. The kiss was needy, and very aggressive. You were whimpering, the intensity making your core throb. His tongue slipped in your mouth as one of your hands went to his hair. You felt his hands go to your hips, before going to your ass. He started to lift you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you over to the bed.
He pulled his shirt off after laying you down, his hands going to the hem of yours.
“Wait, do you think I’m just going to let you fuck me?” you laughed, sitting up. “I’m not going to be the girl that you dumped but you still hook up with.”
“Why are you making things so complicated?” he snapped, as your jaw dropped. “Seriously, babe. I think this is the best way for us to get the aggression out.”
His eyes were full of lust, but you saw love there, too. You weren’t sure what this meant, but you were desperate to find out. You slipped your shirt over your head and reached behind you to unhook your bra. He bit his lip as he looked at the newly exposed skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, not wanting to move closer until you gave him the okay to do so.
“I thought we were getting the aggression out,” you smirked, “Come here.”
He kissed you again as his hand ran up your side. You started to giggle at the tickling sensation, until his hand made it to your breast and squeezed it. You moaned into the kiss, as his hands kept roaming your body.
He trailed kisses along your jaw and neck, gently nibbling your flesh. He smirked against you as you gasped at the feeling.
“Stop teasing me,” you whined, as he lifted his head to look at you.
“What? You don’t want me to take my time?” his tone was cocky as he watched you squirm underneath of him.
“Please don’t,” you said, as he leaned down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. His hand roamed lower as he fumbled with the button to your jeans. You reached down, unbuttoning them and shimmying them down your hips.
“Someone’s impatient,” he mumbled, sucking your other nipple into his mouth.
“Mhm,” you whimpered as he started to rub you over your panties. “Those need to go, too.”
You tried to reach down and pull them off yourself before he stopped you.
“I think I still remember how to do this,” he joked, sliding them along with your jeans the rest of the way down your legs. His lips moved further down, his eyes watching your face when he was almost where you wanted him. Your eyes started to flutter shut as your breathing got heavier in anticipation. “I want your eyes on mine, baby.”
When your eyes connected, he flicked his tongue across your clit. His tongue quickly sped up, the whimpers flooding out of your mouth getting louder. He slowed down every time your eyes started to close.
“Please don’t stop,” you whined, your hands going to his hair.
“I said to keep your eyes on mine.”
Your eyes met his again, making his mouth move faster against you. Your fingers started to gently tug on his hair, as he slipped one of his fingers inside you.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned, as he curved it just right. When he added a second one, your eyes started to shut. As hard as you tried to fight it, you couldn’t.
“You don’t want to listen, do you?” he asked, sliding his fingers out of you. You whined at the loss of contact. “I want you on all fours, baby.”
You got into the position on the bed as he slid his jeans down.
“Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he said, his hands running over your ass. “I’m sorry, babe.”
“I thought you always kept a spare one in your wallet?” you questioned, your mind starting to wander. “Unless you used it on someone else.”
“Seriously? Is that what you think?” he asked, grabbing his phone. “Hang on, I’ll see if Chad has one.”
 “I’m on birth control. As long as you pull out, we’ll be fine,” you sighed, “but really, where did your extra condom go, Ethan?”
He lined up with your dripping entrance, gasping when he pushed the tip in.
“Stop accusing me of something you know didn’t happen,” he said, gripping your hips as he slid the rest of the way in.
“Fuck,” you whimpered at the fullness, “Did you want to see other people? Is that why you really dumped me?”
His hips started to move faster, your words pissing him off.
“I never replaced it after we fucked in my car when you went home with me for Christmas,” he mumbled, watching his cock slide in and out of your pussy. “You’re so fucking tight.”
He loved the way your ass moved when he pounded into you, feeling like he could come at the sight when your hips moved back to meet his thrusts.
Your face was pressed against the bed as one of your hands went to your clit. You rubbed fast circles as he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you.
“Ethan,” you whined, your orgasm quickly building. “I’m close.”
“Who does this pussy belong to?” he asked, his hips not slowing as you got closer and closer to falling over the edge. It was hard to form words as your hips started to jolt. “Tell me or I’ll stop.”
“It’s yours, Ethan,” you said, your face in the sheets as you tried to muffle your moans. He smiled as you said exactly what he wanted to hear.
“Don’t try to hide those pretty sounds, baby. No one can hear you over the music,” he groaned out, “I wanna hear you.”
You turned your head, the moans pouring out of your mouth getting louder and louder as your orgasm hit. His hips kept moving as he fucked you though it, your shaky hand still rubbing at your clit.
“I love it when you squeeze my cock like that,” he moaned, “I’m gonna cum, baby.”
He pulled out after a few more thrusts, shooting his cum all over your ass and lower back. You fully relaxed on the bed, drained of all your energy. Ethan caught his breath before he started to look around the room.
“Uh…I just need to find something to get this off of you,” he laughed, before noticing a box of tissues. He walked over to the dresser to grab them and saw a picture of the guy you were dancing with earlier in the night, “I think I just fucked you in your boyfriend’s bed.”
“Shut up, I don’t even know his name,” you laughed, as he cleaned his cum off you.
You slid off the bed onto your feet and grabbed your panties, slipping them back on. Ethan’s arms wrapped around you as he leaned in to kiss you.
“Do you really think I would break up with you for someone else?” he asked, “You know I love you too much to even think about anyone else, right?”
“I know you do, I was just trying to push your buttons,” you smiled, your lips pecking his.
“Can we try this again?” he asked against your lips.
You nudged him away a little, smirking at him. “Didn’t you just say we were meant to break up?”
“I think it needed to happen for us to see what we really wanted. I want to be with you,” he said, his hands reaching to grab yours, “If you’ll give me another chance.”
“As long as you promise me you’ll try to work through things with me whenever we have problems, then yes,” you smiled, as he stepped closer to kiss you again.
“I promise.”
As you walked back down to the party with Ethan, you noticed Chad and Tara at the bottom of the stairs. They were talking before Chad glanced up and saw the two of you.
“Are you guys good now?” he yelled, a blush creeping up on your cheeks as Ethan nodded. “Fuck yes. The gang is back together.”
You giggled as you made it to the bottom, Chad high-fiving Ethan to congratulate him.
“I knew you two could be friends again,” Tara said, as you looked up to Ethan.
“We’re not just friends,” Ethan smiled as he leaned down to kiss you. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you mumbled against his lips.
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rallentando1011 · 2 months
Note
hey so how do you think the rottmnt boys would deal with a s/o who has insomnia unless they’re cuddling their boyfriend or their giant eevee plush in their own house or stealing something from the boys. Like if they got nothing to bury their face in and squish in their sleep, they ain’t sleeping and look tired the next day. They just look so lonely and lost without something to sleep with too. Totally steals one of Raphael’s teddies when they sleep over as Raphael’s lover. For Donnie, probably fall asleep with shelldon if Donnie isn’t for grabs and yes, shelldon was very comfortable, he felt warm and sturdy like Donnie’s plastron sort off. Leo’s pillow which he is never getting back.
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ROTTMNT Boys + Insomniac Reader
Donnie
For Donnie, late nights, all nighters and the unfortunate side effects of the points are not uncommon
His lab work often requires that he stays up late and starts early as a matter of expediency
But that’s not the problem right now
The problem he notices on one late night is how exhausted you are, slumped entirely on his precious desk space
Donnie lightheartedly asks how much melatonin you took only to be met with a condemning look, his main cause of concern
“HOW MUCH- Ahem, I mean, how much melatonin did you take?”
“Like, a handful.”
“And this is a nightly occurrence?”
“Just about.”
“By Darwin- let’s get you to sleep for now. Tomorrow, we’re doing a physical and psych eval. because how are you even alive.”
Donnie sets you up on a sufficiently cozy bench in the lab with a certain drone taking up residence on your lap
After laying you down, the man moves straight back to working at his desk, much to your chagrin
However, that doesn’t mean you don’t have some tricks up your sleeve
“Respectfully, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. makes a better cuddle buddy,” you call idly to the turtle, trying to conceal your cuddle-seeking agenda
A contemplative hum is Donnie’s response
You persist. “No offense. He’s warm. You’re cold. Not much of a competition.”
“Begrudging sigh- get over here.”
“Say what now?”
“I know you heard me and shan’t be repeating myself. Take up the offer or don’t.”
“Aw. What a sweetheart.”
You join him at his desk chair, curling up cozily into his side with a smug grin, a content drone still on your lap
But your smugness doesn’t last long
Within a few minutes, you’re completely slumped over on Donnie’s shoulder
Donnie also doesn’t have the ability to boast as he too finds himself resting on you, snoring rhythmically into a deep sleep
Mikey
Mikey immediately notices something’s up
Your terrible motor function, your tendency to lean, half-asleep, against any flat surface you find, not to mention your nearly complete lack of hand-eye coordination
Everything comes to a boiling point, quite literally, when you two are cooking together and you zone out with your head down on the counter as your mushroom risotto almost boils over
After he gets the heat off and that situation under control, it’s time for Dr. Feelings to step in and get some answers
“What’s going on?”
“What d’you mean?”
“You seem really drowsy. If something’s wrong, you can tell me. Or not. Any way you’re comfortable with.”
“Nothing’s wrong, per say. It’s just - getting to bed has been really difficult this week for some reason.”
Mikey nods, understanding completely
Once he correctly cleans and puts away dishes and foods, he recommends that you two converse in his room about the situation
You agree, walking alongside him through the lair on precarious legs
The box turtle lays on his bed with you at his side and starts asking questions
When did this bout of insomnia start? What are some of the stressful situations you’ve experienced recently?
As you roll to be right at his side, feeling how warm and cozy the bed feels, admiring the distant babble of potential issues and solutions of this rough patch, the lure of sleep becomes more and more tantalizing
Mikey finishes a thought and looks to you for your opinion, though he’s met with calmly closed eyes and shallow breathing
A smile comes across his face and - even though the in depth solution for this is a larger issue - that is an obstacle in a lot more than just the fact for another day
For now, he just bundles up beside you and drifts off to sleep
Leo
At first when Leo notices your perpetual grogginess, he plays it off as a joke
Asking you what kind of coffin you slept in, referring to you as an elderly person, he’s always got some sort of quip
The concern in his eyes is almost imperceptible
Eventually, his concern cracks through your shell and you feed up to how difficult it is to get to sleep every night
Leo goes slack-jawed
Not only have you been struggling to sleep like his own restless self, but he’s been ribbing you for it?
He’s flabbergasted
“Before you ask, yes, I even tried shutting my phone off and still couldn’t
“Man. This is serious.”
Leo immediately sets to grabbing materials - only the necessities, of course - popcorn, throw blankets, all of his unicorn plushies, good old-fashioned Jupiter Jim movies, and warm tea
The man knows from personal experience that one of the best ways to make yourself sleep is to completely drain your energy and set up a situation in which it is literally impossible not to fall asleep in
“How could snacks possibly help me fall asleep?”
“Not to say just trust me, but just trust me.”
“Source: trust me bro.”
“Exactly.”
One movie and snack time later, you found yourself swaddled in innumerable blankets, plush unicorns clutched tightly to your chest, shoulder to shoulder with your turtle and halfway to unconsciousness, you saw the validity in what he was saying
“Don’t make me regret saying this, but you were right.”
“Of course. When aren’t I?”
“Seriously, thanks.”
“Literally anytime.”
Raph
Raph immediately senses that something’s wrong the second he tries to go to sleep
He goes through his nightly routine just fine: putting on his onesie, brushing his teeth, popping in his retainer, kissing each of his teddy bears goodnight-
Except he can’t
The majority of the plush toys are pristinely lined up in place on his bedside, but as soon as he makes it to the spot of his beloved Captain Cuddles, he’s met only by air and emptiness
And he freaks out
Drawers thrown haphazardly around the room, every piece of furniture in the lair unturned, not a single object in the lair remains unsearched
He’s exasperated, exhausted, completely distraught until you call to tell goodnight
When you hear he’s upset and ask why, he lets you in on the situation
And he’s met with silence
Guilty silence
Before he could chide you, you hung up, and within the hour you were at the lair
Raph seems betrayed, voice cracking and everything, as he asks why you committed such a dissolute deed
“I just haven’t caught much sleep this week, and having something soft or something of yours helps, you know?”
“How long has it been since you slept?”
“Like, three days?”
“It’s only Wednesday.”
“Yep.”
Suddenly, all the stress and distress melts away from his brow, the tension from his shoulders, all replaced by understanding
What was probably going to be an thirty minute rant about the significance of his teddies instead turns into a soft spoken invitation to have a sleepover, and that is an offer you can’t refuse
So, Raph ends up being able to wish each of his stuffies goodnight - and you, too - your head resting on his plastron, the two of you cozily cuddled up
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arachnoia · 9 months
Text
fan favorite | miguel o'hara | part one here
in which your little side hobby is being a cam girl, except things get messy when you’re your boss’s fan favorite
pairing- miguel o’hara x fem! reader
tags- nsfw, masterbating, afab reader, idk how to make tags ! (perspective also changes from reader and miguel !)
—-
He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night but instead stared at his wall after he jerked himself off to the thought of fucking you.
Or at least the streamer version.
His sheets are ripped again thanks to his talons which were currently sinking into his mattress.
“Carajo…”
Now he knows who the streamer he likes is, and he doesn’t like it. Or he at least thinks he knows. The feeling of talking to you now makes him cringe.
Should he fire you? It would feel too awkward.
Or maybe it’s just him being crazy from not sleeping. Miguel has a tendency to not sleep. He either is too into protecting the multiverse to sleep or he’s horny and watches specifically your past livestreams to get by.
What can he say? He’s consistent with it.
“Miguel!”
Lyla emerged from his watch, dancing around his bed frame as he groaned, “What?”
She frowned and rolled her eyes, “Get up. I’m surprised you’re in bed at this hour for once!”
Miguel rolled his eyes and got ready, turning his lights even dimmer since he didn’t get sleep and his eyes were already sensitive as it is.
He stopped for a minute and looked at himself in the mirror.
His hair was messier than usual, his chestnut curls blocking his face. His eyes looked dead inside and in general, he looked fucked up.
He was.
“Miguellllll!”
“Ya voy!”
---
You bit your lip in frustration.
Yeah, your cut was fully healed and you slept okay. But that was only after taking melatonin and some sleep tea.
If that were not the case, you’d be feeling how you are now; stressed and anxious.
You didn’t know how to react when he called you Hermosa. That was someone a certain viewer from your streams called you and the phrase was associated with them. They would send a lot of money, which you were fond of.
Or maybe you misheard. Then again, it was quite nerve-wracking to be so close to your hot-ass boss.
“Y/N!!”
You quit brushing your hair and went over to your living room where Lyla was standing over your watch, “How’re ya doin’?”
You smiled forcefully, “Just peachy…”
“Gosh, what happened?! You look messed up, Miguel looks even worse! But anyways, just came to see how things are!”
You furrowed your eyebrows at what she said and sighed, “No, I just have a lot of things on my mind and I don’t know about O’Hara but he probably has his own shit.”
Lyla nodded and smiled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
She looked over to your nightstand, where you just so happened to have a pink dildo that you used last night due to frustration. She furrowed her eyebrows, which you caught. You looked where she was looking and panicked.
“Hey, what’s tha-“
“I’ll see you at work, Lyla!! Bye!”
And before Lyla could even answer, you ran towards your watch to shut it off.
“Thank god…”
You looked over at your watch and saw the time which was 9.
You rolled your eyes and decided to skip today. Plus the secondhand embarrassment would be too much to bear.
___
Miguel frowned at his screens and looked over at the time, reading it to be 4.
“What the hell happened to Y/N? Have you seen her?”
He turned over to see Jessica Drew from below his platform.
“I, uh- don’t know. Why?”
She shrugged, “Dunno, just thought you’d know since you patched her up yesterday.”
All of a sudden she stopped and covered her mouth, “You don’t know, do you?!”
That question made his thoughts go all over the place. What didn’t he know? What happened? Did she know what he knew? Or rather what he thought he knew?
“Know what?”
Jessica rolled her eyes, “Y/N’s shy and young still. So I’m guessing yesterday was awkward for her,”
Oh…
“-Like y’know, since she got injured and stuff. Plus, I think she has a bit of a crush on you so don’t be as mean as you usually are if you see her tomorrow.”
Miguel frowned at Jessica and swung down, “I’m not mean.”
She snickered, “Sure, Miguel. Whatever you say- Hey, where are you going?”
Miguel turned around and pointed up to the platform, “You’re in charge. Lyla.”
“Yes sir!”
Jess gave him a surprised expression and frowned, glaring at him, “You still haven’t answered my question!”
“Don’t need to.”
---
Miguel felt a little sense of deja vu as he swung to your quarters. The sensation felt almost uncanny as he felt his stomach sink, “Shock…”
He hesitated as he climbed the fire emergency stairs from the outside of your building and slipped in from your open window.
And that’s where he heard it.
“F-Fuck Miguel!”
Then it went silent. You must have sensed something from her Spider senses. Miguel looked at the familiar flooring of all the live streams he saw, every detail of your living room engraved in his mind.
He turned his head to the sound of a door slightly opening, “Miguel..?”
You looked tired and breathless, only in your underwear and a tank top, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. He almost wanted to laugh. You were barely yelling out his name in pleasure and now you say it like you’re afraid of it.
“Yes?”
“Why are you here?”
“Why weren’t you at work? I know your healing abilities are fast.”
A smile crept on his lips as your quiet figure turned around. He felt his stomach doing cartwheels as he noticed you gripping something tightly. Something pink and curved.
“What’s that you’re holding?” Your reaction to his sentence alone made his cock almost twitch in excitement. Your lips slightly parted and looked away, “Nothing…”
He walked towards you, backing you into a wall, to see what you were holding a shot at it, holding a pink dildo before he knew it. Your face turned to one of horror and gasped, “Look-“
“I didn’t know you were into this. Y/L/N, I heard you.”
At this point, you two were only inches apart. He smirked as he could hear how fast your heartbeat went and how labored your breaths went.
“I- don’t have an explanation for that.”
“You don’t?”
He turned your face to look at him, towering over you and intimidating you. He began leaning towards your lips and noticed how you leaned towards closer to him before kissing him. If this wasn’t eerie, he didn’t know what was.
He started caressing your face, trying to be gentle before anything else until you took off your top and pinned him against the wall.
“Hermosa-”
You put your finger against his lips and motioned to his watch where he took off his suit. You kneeled down, looking up at him before smiling at his erect cock and starting kissing at his swollen tip, “I’ve always wanted to thank my number one supporter…”
“S-Shit. Just like that, baby…” He bit his lip and held back a moan. Your tongue grazed on his girth, driving him wild before your started pumping his cock. After teasing him a bit, you started taking him in by the tip slowly and bobbed your head to pleasure him.
He looked down to meet your eyes glazed with tears and gasped, “You’re so good, querida…Fuck-“
You smiled as you felt him twitch and let go only to place his cock between your tits. Miguel let out a groan as you started pumping out his cock again and releasing his load in your mouth.
Before you could even get up, Miguel lifted you up and pinned you against the wall again, where he ripped your panties off and felt his fingers through your wet folds, “Damn it…”
You let out a breathless moan and frowned, “My fucking god.”
He teased your folds with his cock, sliding it in slowly in you while you clawed at his muscular back, “M-Miguel, fuck!”
Miguel threw his head back from how tight you were, “You’re so fucking tight, hermosa. Just like that, mami.”
You cried out from the stretch as he inserted his whole length and held your leg up to his shoulder in order to thrust even harder, stuffing you full. You shut your eyes closed as the speed of his thrusts engulfed you in a state of euphoria. Like he’s been waiting to do this.
You looked up at him and chuckled darkly, out of breath, “Would you ever consider making a guest appearance one day?”
He let out an exasperated groan, “Maybe… it would be interesting.”
“You are a fan favorite anyways.”
masterlist
sol’s notes- i did not know how to end this and i have mixed feelings but lmk! also I typed this out, like yk the DRAFT AND I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT SO IM REALLY SORRY 🙏🏼
tags - @ashanomly @obi-mom-kenobi @tojisbabygworl @toaffes @celestia80s @thel0velykey190 @namorkawaiiwife @cheezit-luv3rr @neteyamoure @bammzyboomy @miyo-0oo @ihateuguys
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stevenose · 9 months
Text
before you go (18+)
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summary: after hawkins turned into literal hell in 1986, steve harrington can’t rest - not until he figures out how to keep things safe. you’re a good friend, though. and good friends help each other.
contains: smut! steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; oral (steve receiving); sub!steve a little??; gratuitous usage of the phrase good boy; mention of sex/cockwarming; all lowercase SORRY
author’s note: this man needs a blowjob and some melatonin
be over 18 when you read this or this man will go insane and never sleep again. do u want that. tell me
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“‘calm down’?”
“i think it might be good for you.”
steve paces, hair a mess. “how the hell am i supposed to calm down? this is such a disaster.”
no shit. “when was the last time you slept?”
he sighs and stops pacing, facing away from you. a hand propped on his hip. “i slept this afternoon.”
“how long?”
he sighs again, a little bitchy. “an hour.”
“that’s not enough,” you argue, moving towards him when he starts pacing again. you place your hands on his shoulders firmly to stop him. “you’re going to ruin the hardwood.”
“fine by me,” he snarks, eyes narrowed. “not like it matters when town’s gonna blow up any goddamn day now.”
you know it’s hard and you’re scared, too. the difference is that you know when to rest and have faith. steve doesn’t. steve will pace right through the floor and lose sleep and stress everyone else out before he concedes. and maybe his only saving grace in these moments is that he’s also a little pretty when he’s frustrated.
you bite your cheek and think about it for a moment - your admittedly ridiculous idea, given the circumstances - then lower to your knees in front of him.
“what are you doing?” he asks bluntly.
“calming you down.” your hands reach for his belt and he sort of gasps.
“hey hey hey, wait - wait -“ he says frantically, his hands coming to rest on top of your head. “you’re what?”
“you need a distraction. and orgasms help you sleep. you know that though, don’t you?”
he opens his pretty mouth, those plush pink lips, before snapping it shut and shaking his head. “i - i don’t -“
so you sigh and start getting up, thinking he’s rejecting the advance, but he pushes you back down gently. “okay, wait - wait - i didn’t say no.”
“so you want me to help.”
he nods. “if you really want to.”
“you want me to suck you off and make you cum so you can get some rest.”
he blushes up to his ears. “um. uh-huh.”
“you gonna ask?”
everything feels frozen when he looks down at you with wide eyes. he finally licks his lips and clears his throat. “will you - uh, give me a blowjob?”
“jesus,” you mumble, going back to his belt, working it open. “i thought you were supposed to be good at this.”
“i am,” he snaps. “i just - i’m not used to -“
“i know you’re not,” you interrupt. you push his jeans down, aching when you see his cock through his briefs. “you need to let go of your control on things sometimes. you’re going to drive yourself crazy.”
steve doesn’t answer. he just watches, eyes wide and pupils blown when your hand experimentally cups his dick. “how long’s it been, huh?”
“n-not really long,” he stutters. “the - the night this started.”
your brows quirk, palm gently massaging his balls. he moans lowly. “she sucked your cock?”
“jesus, don’t say shit like that.”
“why? ya gonna bust already?”
he groans, hips keening forward. “come on. you’re just makin’ me more frustrated.”
“poor thing,” you mock, your fingers brushing over his shaft. “you don’t even know how to say please.”
“please?”
you pull his underwear down, letting his cock spring free. “oh,” you say bluntly, staring before you look up at him. “no wonder no one gives you oral.”
“that a compliment?” he asks, hand still resting steady on the top of your head.
you don’t answer. you take his shaft in your hand and pump him a few times. you hear his breath hitching but you don’t chance a look upwards - his face might make you implode. his cock is warm and velvety in your hands, tip pink and sticky. you swallow, mouth genuinely watering, before you lean forward.
“hey,” he says again, but softly, pushing your head back gingerly. “you don’t have to, okay? i’m fine, i promise.”
“i know i don’t have to,” you say, still stroking him, watching his face twitch. he’s trying to be so serious. “didn’t i start this?”
“well, yeah -“
“i want to finish it, too.”
he nods and lets you lean forward again. “o-okay.”
“you want this too, right?” you ask, lips ghosting on the head of his cock.
“please,” he asks breathily.
you press a kiss to his tip and smile when he moans, head thrown back, arms coming up to tug at his own hair. you smile, kissing it gently one more time before letting your lips wrap around him. the taste of salt hits your tastebuds and you moan, swirling your tongue around it.
“oh, shit,” steve groans. the tendons in his neck are visible. the scar that makes your stomach ache jutting out. you have to look away from it, instead closing your eyes as you make out with his cockhead. your tongue runs along the underside of it and steve shudders, hands now coming down to rest on your head. “like that,” he breathes. “that feels so good.”
“i know,” you say sympathetically, pulling away a little. “big cock just needed some attention, huh?”
“jesus, say that again.”
“what? that you have a big cock?”
he nods, teeth obviously clenched.
you smile. “you have such a fat cock, steve,” you whisper, before licking a bead of precum away. “i don’t know how it’s going to fit in my throat.”
“hang on,” he whines. “please - against a wall, or somethin’ - i’m gonna drop if i don’t.”
you laugh, pushing up and meeting him again against the wall, his back up against the plaster. you steal a chance to kiss his jaw before getting back on the ground, continuing your movements without missing a beat. now that he doesn’t have to focus on staying upright, his eyes clench shut and he leans back.
“good boy,” you coo, and his cock kicks. “oh, you like that? you’re such a good boy, steve, we should tell you more often.”
“i’m gonna cum,” he groans, covering his face with his hands.
“already? i’ve hardly tasted you, stevie. you have to hold on for me, okay?”
“i will,” he promises. “shit, i will, just - please.”
“please?”
“please suck me off!”
you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock before taking him halfway into your mouth. the back of his head hits the wall with a thud and you rub his thigh sympathetically with one hand while the other jerks the rest of him off.
he tastes so good. incredible. your mouth waters while you bob your head up and down, tongue working in slow zig-zags. steve bites his knuckle, eyes trained on you. “unnnh, oh - shit… shit….”
you nod, looking up at him through your lashes. he’s a mess, squirming above you, little ah!s stuck in his throat.
“you can be louder than that, steve,” you say quickly. “come on, wanna hear you. be good for me.”
“oh,” he cries, hips bucking, sending him deeper into your throat. “oh, my god… oh my god, that fuckin’ mouth….”
you pinch his thigh. language. he bites his knuckle again but the cries continue, soft and breathy and desperate. you move further down, taking him most of the way, attempting to relax your throat to take him. he gasps, the fingers of his free hand digging into your scalp. “ohmygod holyfuck holyshit yes yes yes!”
you want to ask if anyone’s deep throated him before, but you’re having too much fun to pull off and ask. you gag slightly around him and drool pools out of your mouth. once steve sees that - feels that - he cries out, hissing through his teeth. “i gotta cum, please can i cum?”
“good boy,” you moan, voice thick while you jerk him off wetly. “ask me again.”
“please can i cum holy shit i gotta cum so bad please?”
you giggle. “go ahead. such a good boy.”
and he cums at that, spilling into your fist, hands back up in his own hair while his fingers tug at his strands. he groans gutturally, hips fucking into your hand as he rides it out. “honey, oh… yeah, love … love it… oh, jesus christ.”
you only stop your movements when he jerks and hisses again in oversensitivity. you can tell your little plan worked with how hooded his eyes are, how deep he breathes.
“you sleepy?”
“yeah,” his voice cracks. “yeah, i’m…. don’t leave, please.”
your brows furrow. “don’t leave?”
“will you stay?” he asks. “you help.”
you bite your lip, slowly getting up off your knees. “tell you what,” you say softly. “how about i keep your cock warm inside of me while you take a little nap? i’ll keep you safe.”
he blinks, eyes wide. “y-yeah. yeah that - that would be incredible.”
“i know,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him gently on the ear. “good boy.”
562 notes · View notes
neopuppy · 2 years
Text
Sleep Therapy (M)
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Pairing. demon Jaemin x femaler reader
Genre. That Boys Is A Monster AU, life after Be There For You, explicit smut, M/F, dark fic
Warnings. heavy dubcon/noncon elements(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable. I’m serious. thanks.), somnophilia, breeding, rough and unprotected sex, impreg kink, demon lore, camera use, praise, degradation, obsessive behavior
WC. 6.6(6)k
Now Playing. Slept So Long/Jay Gordon
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‘Just wanted to watch you sleep. Wanted to be part of your dreams.’
It’s been hours.
It’s been days.
It’s been weeks.
Herbal teas, over the counter Melatonin, even prescribed sleep medication that could knock out a small child for days scattered your living room table; piled up only to mock you.
Useless, all of it completely useless as you enter another night of restless sleep.
Debilitated by lack of rest has forced you to take a sabbatical from work, per the suggestion of your regular physician. One week at the hospital under careful watch had you in tears every morning, pleading for something to help you. Anything.
It was more than the bags formed under your eyes. Hallucinations had become a reoccurring issue the longer you walked around like a living dead girl, unclear visions of men transforming into monsters; nightmares turned into reality.
“A sleep clinic might be our last hope,” your physician shrugs, having only reached this point with you after insisting you must be exaggerating. “I’ve contacted Dr. Na at the Vision Clinic, he’s the best Somnologist in the district. You should be in great hands.”
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Great hands.
Great hands that led up to built up arms confined in a lab coat. Broad shoulders and a warm handsome smile that seems too blinding to even stare at for much long.
Dr. Na floats around his desk to greet you, light as a feather with the most calm of demeanors.
He smells lovely, soothing in a way similar to a hot stove warming up holiday cookies. Nothing too strong, but just enough to pick up a whiff of as he embraces your hand in greeting.
“My new patient.” He speaks with sparkling pearly white teeth on display. Every inch of him is a reminder of how wealthy Doctors are, from the silver Rolex watch adorning his wrist down to his freshly shined designer shoes.
He manages to maintain warmth in his gaze despite the obvious differences between the two of you.
Greasy hair, flesh empty of life and sweats you’ve turned into daily wear paired with fluffy Ugg slippers stand before him on your meek frame. Shyly nodding when he double checks how to pronounce your name and directs you to sit.
Dr. Na seemed too young to be a seasoned professional in this field. He couldn’t be much older than his mid-twenties. Albeit difficult to truly take him in full admiration as he sits against the ledge of the large crimson wooden oak desk placed in the center of his office. He takes time to run through your chart again, repeating the things you’ve heard for months now. No prior health issues or concerning conditions, a proper diet and lifestyle, nothing that could conclude how you’d end up here.
“How’s your caffeine intake?” Dr. Na asks with a charming lift at the corners of his mouth.
“Haven’t had any in two months now.”
“There are many causes behind insomnia.” Dr. Na nods, scribbling notes down while explaining. “I’ll schedule an MRI scan for later today to conduce if this could be connected to a chemical imbalance.”
“Chemical imbalance?”
“Emotional stress, perhaps trauma, lifestyle changes.” He smiles, akin to the way a Kindergarten teacher may when speaking to a naive child. “We will figure it out.”
Scribbling a few more notes, Dr. Na rips out a section of paper instructing you to head down to the cafeteria designated for patients to eat a proper meal. “I’ll be sending out the order for new medication to try. When it arrives at your room please make sure to follow the nurses directions and take them all. I will come by to check on you as soon as I have an open window of time.”
Dr. Na shifts to stand, the full size of him shadowed above your frail exhausted frame. “We’ll see how your nightmares play out this evening, once I can look through your MRI scan results we can move on to other options, such as hypnosis.”
“Hypnosis?” Even your speech comes out in a lazy drawl. Tongue heavy and dry, dizzy on your feet when you get up to head down. Already aware that you wouldn’t be eating much, even lifting a fork to your lips drained you.
“Of course, it’s one of my specialties.” He chuckles. “Might sound silly but I have a real knack for mind control, you’d be surprised how easy it is to dominate the human mind. It’s easier than training an animal.”
If it wasn’t for the speckled white dots infiltrating your vision, you might’ve noticed the slight change in Dr. Na’s expression. The flicker of black consuming his iris, the drag of his tongue across his upper row of teeth, and the amused hum passing through his throat as he takes in your appearance up close.
It’s been hours.
It’s been days.
It’s been weeks.
It’s been longer than that, months of watching you come in and out of your apartment. Endless days of parking far enough across from you to fly under your radar.
There was no rush, until there was.
Suddenly you had a companion walking you to your car after work, you had a reason to shop for pretty dresses, you sprayed more perfume on and smiled to yourself when opening up notifications on your phone.
Suddenly you felt further away, distracted by him. The stupid new much too friendly Economics professor who had found a way to stayed plastered to your side.
It’s too late anyway.
The sound of Jaemin’s knuckles cracked, echoing loud enough to lift your head with a glance around the coffee shop you frequented. He stayed leaned back in a corner less lit up, less noticeable, especially to someone as oblivious as you.
Someone so carefree and innocent, someone who didn’t even bother to make sure to grab the right drink from the counter when the barista called out your name. It was too easy to blindside you, drop a concoction of sleep medication in your cup as he picked up a quad shot Americano sitting near your milky vanilla latte.
Sip after sip had you yawning despite the powerful caffeine. Time and time again your usual morning pick-me-up failed you, to the point that you argued with the baristas about changing ingredients and formula.
It was too late.
Half asleep and drowsy, your key prodded at your front door in frustration, collapsing against it with your eyes shut and a crushed sigh.
The trap had been laid out, more out of enjoying the breakdown of watching you suffer and lose interests in everything the more you stayed awake night after night.
It made him laugh, entertained pulling on invisible puppet strings where he watched from down the hall as you crumbled to your knees, whining desperately for the key to unlock your apartment.
Weak, a perfect victim.
Jaemin had spent time finding you, it hadn’t been easy. Escaping hell never is afterall, bargains had to be made.
A vessel for his spawn, a strong healthy human vessel that could survive demonic childbirth. That was Johnny’s demands.
‘More than 1, I expect you to bring back many.’
You’d only be the first of the batch, the first to carry his lineage, the first to take his seed and hand over every bit of strength your little body had left in it after he finished.
and you’re perfect, immaculate in every way to carry his first child. The epitome of woman from the inside out. The sole purpose of your existence to be bred full, nothing but a hole to fuck.
Jaemin can’t deny the sick pleasure he gets just from watching you nearly pass out at your front door. A bump on your head the next day would be the only hint of what possibly took place. The bulky arms cradling your limp figure to bed would feel like a faded memory, the sound of your door being kicked shut, nothing more than a foreign thought, a distorted picture of a man hovering above you stripping off your clothing to settle you into your bed more of a nightmare than a dream.
Demons don’t have hearts, they don’t feel, they don’t care.
But you’d always be the first.
You’d always be special in comparison to the rest. The first kill of the hunt, the first prey to fall victim, the conquest alone would be more monumental than any of the rest. You’d be his favorite memory, the one he chose first.
Hunger and ache to destroy mattered more, and as his thick fingers dragged down your stomach, following the path of breaths lifting your ribs higher and lower, he salivates. He swallows at a dry itch at the bottom of his throat, fingers crushing your waist to dip in harder.
“Sleep tight princess.” He always spoke to you, a mere muffled sound in your mind.
Muffled sounds, staggered breaths, heavy weight suppressing your lungs and throat. Pain and fear, a dark sensation followed whenever the recollection of thoughts swarmed around.
It could be after a shower, brushing through your hair, applying lotion, dressing for work. The shadowed memory of something you can’t prove ever happened lingers.
Not even the pain in your lower back, the soreness between your thighs or marks blooming across your skin make any sense. Every idea or thought only seemed less plausible. No sign of break in, no clue to indicate intrusion to your home.
The thought of a demon stalking you day and night would never cross your mind.
Demons aren’t real.
Religion had never been an interest for you, your family hadn’t pushed any beliefs to follow. Most of what you’d learn about religious mythology stemmed from horror films, and demons just seemed like such an outlandish idea. A joke.
Why would you ever assume the doctor assigned to solve your problems could be the root of them.
Jaemin watches you sleep for the hundredth time, removing the crisp white lab coat to hang on a hook. He sits near the special bed for out-patients, away from the noise of machines and heart monitors. It’s quiet, peaceful and calm even as you sweat, breathe heavily and twist to hide your face.
Ruined. Mind deteriorated by dark evil, by happenings you have no control over.
It’s not the first time he’s visited your slumbering figure, your bare skin more ingrained in his mind than your clothed one.
The doors locked, nurses working the night shift too busy with sick patients to check on someone knocked out with sleep disorder.
Upon Dr. Na’s instructions no one should come by. As he undoes the buttons of his smooth ironed shirt he grins to himself. A camera’s set up in the room to capture your sleep schedule, how often you wake, if you sleep at all.
The dosage of medication you consumed tonight would be enough to tranquilize even a large dog. There’s no way you’d wake up tonight.
He didn’t want you to remember tonight, as much as the thought of your eyes fluttering open letting out a shrill scream when you see the visual above you made his cock twitch. A tingle burned from the bottom of his spine to his throat. It’d be fun to have you half-lucid, shouting and begging for him to stop.
But it’s more appealing to watch your arm flop limp at your side. Entertained by the way you seem uncomfortable even as you sleep.
Special.
Jaemin thinks about it, pushing the hospital gown up past your waist. He sucks at saliva filling his cheeks taking in the cute pair of light rosey toned panties hiding your center. You’re not even wet, yet, not that he cares. His cock only hardens thinking about it, smoothing down the expanse of your inner thighs. You’ll struggle more to take his size, cry and curl in to get away. Grip at the sheets by your head for some semblance, for anything to ground you and focus your pain elsewhere.
It’s not the first time he’s slowly tugged off your underwear. It’s not the first time he’s stretched your thighs open as far as they’re willing to go. The small scrunch in your nose informing him the pull hurts your hips, it aches up to your groin.
This is good, Jaemin thinks, this is good because he wants you to remember this. He wants you to know you’ve been claimed, fucked by something devilish and unholy. Touched and destroyed by sin in its human form. He wants you to see how well you take it, how your pilant body still manages to jerk and roll up seeking more of his length to dig deeper inside of you.
Tossing your underwear aside, he pauses to blink at the red light flashing on the camera. Recording everything he’s about to do.
He’s waited, waited so long that his cock twitches fiercely against his thigh at the visual of your exposed cunt.
Jaemin wants to take his time, savor the natural scent flowing from your middle. Drag his fingers aimlessly between your folds until you slicken up obscenely, bite every inch of skin, slap and knead handfuls of meaty flesh in a rough manner. Turn you on your stomach to force your ass up in his face, push your pussy folds open just to watch your hole plead. Empty. Begging for a fucking demon to fuck you even if it hurts, even if you don’t actually want it.
He wants to take his time, but he can’t. It’s been months of pulling out, jerking off on your pretty face, cooing and mewling above your cum splattered stomach. Smearing the warm arousal up your chest dreaming of the day he pours load after load inside of you.
and it’s time, it’s time to ruin you for good. Force your unconscious body to take and take.
One hand delicately tugs and strokes himself, hissing as he jerks away from his thumb rubbing across the head. Precum gathered there smearing around the tip, coating it in a thin layer of sticky gloss. His other hand works away the gown hiding your full breasts, ripping off the flimsy garment easily. Easy access to strip a patient, easier access to have you bare and ready for him.
His breath staggers, gliding the pads of his fingers down your chest. Your sternum rising and falling as a human should, because you’re full of life, full of emotions and feelings he could never understand anymore.
The connection to his human self evaded his memory years ago. Void of the life he once had, lifeless, mindless and consumed by nothing but the desire to create pain. To watch a stupid human like you in agony.
A stupid, stupid, pretty little human. Nothing more than a warm blood filled fleshlight to fuck.
Jaemin lets out a chuckle, dropping his neck back to stroke himself above your stomach. Slapping down the middle of your abdomen a few times just to watch your skin tremble beneath, just to picture how far deep inside of you he can reach. With your hips pushed up and expanded, he knows you’ll birth a child for him easily. A new spawn to create a powerful army in hell. The first of his bloodline to lead and carry on the fight for evil.
He knows you’ll make it through, because he won’t give you a choice.
Rubbing the head of his cock up from where your stomach dips to your navel, he almost wishes you’d wake up. Your weak arms would push up, slap his chest, punch his arms, burst into tears with protests.
That will come, in time.
In the meantime, he prods your belly button, smirking at the thought of fucking you there too. Fucking every hole on you just for fun, because who fucking cares what the king of hell demanded. Jaemin’s going to fuck you until only his needs are met and fulfilled.
The thought races through him spine to balls, hunching forward as he shifts on his knees. The bed dipping and creaking under his weight, switching to rub the tip on your clit.
Still dry.
Dry but warm. Warm enough to be incinerated by the jagged rub of his size passing between your folds. It’s dry, but it’s fucking good, just to feel your fleshy folds struggle along his veiny stiff rod. Just to feel your skin pucker against the sticky pre-cum coating areas of his shaft.
He grunts, rubbing his cock against the plush feel of your parted pussy folds, sneaking quick glimpses of your hole— so tight and closed up. Too tight to take his size without it hurting, without ruining your pussy to only take his cock.
He’s way too big, and he knows it. He knows it from the amount of times he's played with you, just swiping against your cunt. Teasing himself to the point of mind-numbing overstimulation by putting in just the tip. Whimpering even in your sleep from the push ripping you open.
Sucking at the drool lining his bottom lip, he staggers for a minute, pushing side to side against your pussy. Lazily drawing his eyelids up to take in your angelic face once more, so much purity and tenderness. All of it soon to be his.
The slumber you’ve drifted off into isn’t peaceful in the least. It’s hot, weighing down on your chest, an itch passing through your nerves. Running through endless hallways filled with doors leading to nothing, nothing but black emptiness.
It’s been Jaemin all along, smoothing your hair away from your face. Snaking his lips over your body layering patterns of kisses. Jerking off for hours on your face, chest, stomach, anywhere he felt like.
He thinks about it again, nudging in not even half of the tip against your resistant entrance. A rubber band-like snap pinches around the width of his size. The skin sucking around him already appears damaged, further arousing him to inflict pain upon you, to make it hurt. Make it hurt knowing you have no choice but to take it and enjoy it against your will.
Groping your jaw with one thick hand, he turns your restless passed out face to watch him; easy to picture your eyes shooting up full of red vessels and tears. It burns from his chest to his lower back, swiveling his hips to push in the rest of the tip of his length. The bulbous mushroom shaped cap suffocates inside of you. Dry and tight as fuck, he thinks fervently, hissing between his teeth shining under the dim light as his lips part in moan.
It’s more than good just to feel you choke around the tip, your mouth falling open with a staggered breath allowing him to pinch and roll your plump bottom lip between his fingers.
Jaemin pauses, once more absorbing just how lifeless and limp you lay spread open. Part of him craves for you to wake, to stare up in shock paralyzed by fear, to be able to relive the torture he’s prepared to demonstrate. To enjoy it, because you’re actually nothing but a filthy slut; his own little human fuck doll.
It’s time. It’s finally time.
Saliva drenched digits drag down your chin, the center of your throat, dipping between your exposed breasts. Hardened pebbled nipples peak upward, more stiff from the chilled air circulating the room than excitement. You’re too unaware to feel aroused or anxious, too lucid, lost in the nightmare grappling you through hell.
Even if you were to wake up, Jaemin would only fuck you harder, tackle you down to take, take, take.
A shot of exhilaration curls through his gut, tugging his spine toward his navel as he hunches closer with one hand planted by your head to stay propped up. Jaemin’s gaze locks on your core, a pussy made just for him, because it doesn’t matter who fucked you before. He’d be the last.
The slow drag out of you draws an anguished sounds from the back of his throat. He needs to see you one more time, one more time before he claims and makes you useless for anyone else.
With a fist wrapped around his length, his other hand palms your cunt, shoving your swelling slit open to see the full visual of your hole. So empty, tiny, like a fucking virgin.
It really makes his head spin for a minute, rubbing the pad of his finger in a circular motion over your entrance. The airy gurgle that escapes your lungs shoots his eyes wide, focused on your face burying into a pillow. He tugs on himself a few more times, mindlessly rolling two digits over the precum that won’t stop leaking. He needs to fuck you, now.
Stifling a grunt, Jaemin shifts an inch closer, wrapping a thick bicep under your thigh to spread you open more. The head of his cock swipes between your core, slapping down heavy. Heavy and loud despite the lack of wet to clash against. Wedged up as close as possible between your thighs, and Jaemin has to grit his teeth to contain a growl. Pushing his hips forward to rub the underside of his cock against your clit, he wants to let out a throaty cry; a muted sound of pain when he feels it.
You’re clenching around nothing, seeking something.. someone to fuck you. Unaware of what your body is even asking him to do. Each drag spurs your hole to clamp down more, the first push of wetness spewing out smears against his balls. His throat tightens up swiping between you again, the tip teasing and brushing against your entrance without entering.
Jaemin’s nostrils suck in, inhaling a deep breath as he watches his cock bounce off your fleshy folds in slow-like-motion. Nasty, so nasty and raw, wet for anyone like the textbook definition of a fucking whore.
The next stroke along his cock glides easily, wet from your dripping pussy, wet because your body wants him whether you’re awake or not. He doesn’t care, but he knows it, he knows from the way you stare. The dreams you have of him not even under his influence.
Pressing at your hole again has him drooling, laving at the innerwalls of his mouth to collect the saliva that won’t stop from pouring.
“Fuck.” Jaemin finally grunts, biting down on his teeth as he sinks inside of you. It’s wet and tighter than he could have ever imagined. The hand wrapped around himself hardly comparable after many nights spent jerking off on your backside.
A smooth thrust fills you up eagerly, a perfect fit making it too hard to hold back from cramming into you balls deep.
Jaemin stills for a minute, long eyelashes fan on the tops of his cheeks. Swallowing harsh enough for his Adam's apple to visibly bob up and down the length of his dipped back neck. “So fucking good, just like I knew you would be.”
Palms scramble along the sides of your thighs, grinding forward to watch your mouth fall open again. A silent cry he wants to hear echo through the room simply not enough. Reaching for your waist, Jaemin pins your upper half to the bed, wiggling his hips to keep your thighs around his sides.
“Wet like a whore.” Jaemin snickers, clicking his tongue along the backs of his teeth. The painful circle of his hips fills the room with gasped whines, grinning to himself because you’re enjoying it. You like getting fucked, even in your sleep. He could care less with the sole mission to breed you full of cum consuming his head. He thrusts finally, the head of his size catching on your hole earning a louder moan.
The warmth gripping his dick feels mind-numbing, the most he’s felt in months since hunting you down, and his pace alters immediately as the feeling finally gets to him. You’re his for the taking, his and only his.
“Mine.” Jaemin mutters to himself, ruthlessly thrusting back into you in a jerky motion. It’d be painful if you were awake, his pace alternating from meticulously deep rolls of his hips to sloppy, aggressive and messy. The sound of wetness more overbearing than the clap of your skin colliding.
He’s frantic, knowing he can fuck you like his as long as he pleases, and you can’t do anything about it.
Jaemin’s thick arms bracket your head, nose hovered above your lips. Moan after moan sounding more excruciating than the last. Fucking into your tight cunt like a man who just discovered the glory of a fleshlight, reckless abandonment. The ache against your groin and thighs one guaranteed to last for weeks to come.
“So fucking good for me angel.” Jaemin praises, head thrown back when you clench around him. It makes him laugh like a maniac, amused by the idea of you listening, hearing everything he says. Dropping his face to your throat, he licks up your jaw to your earlobe, nibbling before he whispers. “Pretty baby loves getting fucked like a slut.”
A sigh sings from your lips, the prettiest sigh he’s ever heard. A sigh that runs in circles throughout his mind, turning to drop his cheek against yours with wide eyes focused on shut ones. The heavy weight of your eyelids taunting him, pushing him to fuck harder for just a glimpse of your hidden iris.
He could cum off that alone, and it punches through him with the next thrust, burying his thick fat length as deep inside of you as he can. Surely deep enough to rip through your insides, the weight of his heavy cock poking between your pressed together stomachs with each pointed thrust.
Jaemin’s obsessed with the grip your pussy gives, needing to feel you lock you and struggle to take him through your unwanted pleasure once more. Snaking his hand between your connected lower halves, he roughly rubs at your engorged clit, fat between his fingers from neglect. The need to cum more prevalent for the both of you than he cares about, but it feels too good to force his size past your shrunken entrance.
“You’re so fucking good for me. You don’t even know.” Jaemin babbles to himself, nose digging into your cheekbone to quiet the groan ripping through his chest. The sound of your wetness fills the room up in the most obscene way, splashing against his thighs and stomach with each impactful land of his hips.
“Ah—fuck!” A string of curses soars free, jostling you up the hospital bed that struggles to stay in place as he fucks you at a near inhumane pace. The whites of your eyes gleam with his next thrust, rolled back from the powerful hit that arches your back involuntarily.
“Fuck you all night, gonna fuck you everyday.”
Jaemin cries out, ripping a chunk of your hair with a balled up fist to unveil the column of your throat, biting down as the coiling heat in his gut becomes too overwhelming.
And he cums, screaming with his teeth dug into your skin. Bits of flesh scraped off by his sharp canine teeth, but still not enough to wake you, even as you let out a weak moan intensely squirting release around his size.
It’s almost too hard to stay put inside of you, having to realign his weight to keep his cock in despite the wet arousal bursting trying to shove him out.
It’s more desperate than he wanted, to fuck you like he owns you, because he does now. You’re his from inside out now. You’ll always be his.
Jaemin’s flopping down to his stomach, pushing your pussy folds open to ensure every drop of cum disappears. He has to fight back the urge to lean in, slurp of the slick wet coating your labia to watch your hole convulse, twitch and swallow down the white mess of cum passing through.
“We always have tomorrow to keep trying.” He grins wolfishly, throwing your gown back on without a care. “and the day after that.”
The camera shuts off, near the end of it’s battery life, and he thinks the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Scooting back toward your heaving figure, he leisurely trails up one of your thighs, playfully pushing them apart to memorize how damaged he’s left you. A fat wad of cum bubbles deep in your stretched out hole, gaped around nothing, sore and painful looking.
When morning comes you’ll wonder again why your body hurts so much. You’ll cry miserably, losing your patience, ready to end your battle, ready to give up. That’s what Jaemin wants anyway.
“Goodnight angel.”
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It’s been over a week now of staying at the clinic, and you feel worse than when you arrived.
“How long has it been since you’ve had a good nights sleep?”
The questions rhetorical, not that you’d be able to decipher the true meaning behind your doctors words.
Between nightmares altering reality and mixing up different prescribed medications, you no longer had a grasp on time. Nothing felt real anymore, even the metal table before you reflecting your exhausted lifeless appearance felt like some horrific illusion.
“I can’t remember.”
Dr. Na leans closer to you with his elbows propped on the table to perch his chin in his hands. A soft yet devious smile painted on his lips as he watches you lose your fight.
“I’ll show you what you have forgotten.”
Dr. Na could say anything to you at this point really. Beyond the horrific visions taking over your brain, your body felt like it was breaking down on you. Every muscle sore, even your bones ached, new marks of bruising appeared everyday.
“I believe, I’ve figured out what’s keeping you awake.” The doctor says, turning to a rolly table at his side. Click clacks of typing sounds throughout the empty room, clearing his throat as he turns a black screen to face you.
“You have?”
Dr. Na stands, he smooths back a bang piece of hair that's fallen loose. The lab coat fitting his frame perfectly begins to slip from his wide shoulders and he removes it without breaking eye contact.
“You see, you’re a special case to me.” He continues, rounding the table to stand behind where you sit with his heavy palms weighing down on your slumped shoulders. “I’ve invested so much time and energy into you.”
Dr. Na’s lips pout behind you, gathering your hair off to one side to tickle down the side of your marked up throat. Marks left behind from his ruthless grip choking away your breath while he fucked you harder and deeper without anything or anyone to restrain him.
“In return, I need you to listen.”
“Doctor?” He could be speaking a foreign language as far as you’re concerned. Tilting your chin to the side to look up at him, your forehead wrinkles confused, met with the always handsome comforting face. Big doe eyes that round in a precious way that makes you feel as if everything will be ok.
“Shh shh” pinching your chin, Dr. Na turns you to face the screen, leaning the weight of his chest against the back of your head as he reaches over. Fingers click down, a video of your sleeping figure taking over the laptop screen.
“Did I do something in my sleep?” You wonder, watching as you struggle to stay still. Your feet kick the more you turn side to side, it’s uncomfortable to see yourself in distress.
“Not quite, angel.” Dr. Na huffs, continuing to push his chest closer to you. He has you hunched in closer, face lit up by the screen. Surprised as the doctor appears, and bright red eyes flash in the direction of the camera. A glitch because of the dim-lighting, you decide. “But I did.”
It’s shocking, disgusting, and humiliating to see what happens next. The choked gasp that pours from your mouth trapped by a large hand slapping down on your lips.
“You see, I chose you sweetie.” Dr. Na’s tone falls an octave, the sugary sweetness behind his words disappearing. “This whole time, I molded you, prepared you for this.”
He nods, pushing his other hand down to grip and hold your stomach. “To carry my future child, to birth my spawn.”
Screams go muffled beneath the palm splayed over your mouth, shoved up with an arm belted around your waist to bend over on the table. Dr. Na rips at the hospital gown covering your backside, arching your neck with his powerful hold on your face to force you to continue watching him take advantage and use your body.
“I said shush!” He sounds more demonic now, displaying an inhuman strength as he shreds off your underwear. The chill air floating through the room smacks your core quickly sending your knees to clink together. Fearful as you watch the man on screen rip you open from the inside. “Almost liked you better asleep.”
He has the audacity to laugh when tears trickle down his fingers, kicking your thighs open with a knee as he plants against your bent body. The cool table melting against your heated flesh with his hips smacking into your bottom. Three fingers shove into your mouth as you attempt to scream for help, someone, anyone to hear you and stop what happens next.
“You see,” fingers drag up the backs of your thighs, gripping roughly where they land on your ass to spread you apart. Sucking in air between his teeth at the sight of your ruined hole, swollen and painfully stretched from the amount of times he’s fucked you through the night now. “You’re perfectly healthy, couldn’t be better. A little stupid, but you’re human afterall.”
He doesn’t explain more than that, thrusting his fingers deeper into your mouth to quiet the coughs and cries spilling out of you. The sound of a zipper opening has you weakly attempting to thrash back, fight him off.
He’s too big, he’s too strong, too powerful to kick away.
The first touch of his bare skin shoots your eyes open, crying out as his girth lands against your core.
He’s too big. He’s too fucking big, and he’ll break you.
Pleads fall empty trying to pray for mercy, his cock only leaking out more spurts of precum as a murmured ‘please God’ sounds.
“God can’t help you now, sweet little angel.” He sneers, rubbing the length of his size between your folds just as he begins to on the screen. The hold on your jaw forces you to watch each action, to watch the way he manipulates your body to do as he pleases.
“Don’t want it princess?” He grunts shakily, growling in his chest because you’re already wet. So fucking nasty, hot and wet between your thighs, canting back to meet his cock ramming against your meaty folds. “But look at how much you loved it.”
He shakes your head in a mocking manner, much like a child being punished for uttering a bad word. The screen too blurry behind your tears, but the image is clear enough to see your doctor take advantage of you in your most innocent helpless state.
“Please, please doctor…please.”
The sound of his tongue clicking in dismay echoes like a jeer, circling your entrance with the tip the more you plead. “Jaemin. Enough of this bullshit doctor act.”
Nothing he says to you makes sense anymore, incapacitated by his weight crushing your feeble body to the table. Deeming your pussy wet enough, he scoots forward to sandwich past your clamped thighs, kicking a foot roughly between your knees for more leverage. He wants it to hurt, wants you to scream to make up for all the times he’s let you enjoy it, wants to see you cry and beg for him to stop.
One swoop forward gives him exactly what he desires, shallowly fucking his full heavy girth in even with how tight you still manage to be. The video on screen displays a similar act, different in position, lacking the blood curdling screams and cries you let out as he mocks and laughs.
“So pretty baby, you’re so pretty for me.” Jaemin licks at his upper lip, jostling against you a few times as he turns you by your chin to look at him, cracking your neck with the strain. “Can I fuck you? Huh?”
He laughs again, an arrogant disgusting laugh, emphasizing the question with another piston of his hips. “Can I? My sweet angel can take it. You already have.”
It’s too easy, you’re nothing but a mindless hole succumbed to his strength. The man behind you more demonic than anything, the gentle features of your concerned doctor turned dark, menacing, purely evil.
His hips hammer wildly, keeping your face turned to the side to watch the way he ravages your body. To watch him destroy and rip away your soul.
Every choked miserable cry you let out only heightens his pleasure, snapping his hips brutally against your backside. The pain hits from both ends with each dig of your thighs and pelvic bone cutting against the table.
“You were tighter the other night.” He spits, wadding up saliva to aim at the middle of your fast. The nasty thick wetness trickling from the bridge of your nose to the puddle of snot and drool accumulated on your lips. “Already fucking loose, you know what that means?”
Fingers squeeze past his relentless hips, shoving between your buttcheeks to scratch at your rim earning a shriek and scurry of your feet to get away. The sadistic laugh that booms out behind you sending shrill fear up your spine, tightening up around the length punching in and out of you with intention to hurt.
“Ah, fuck, yeah. Like that.” Jaemin pushes back, choking your neck from behind to hold you down. Palm smacking down angrily on your rim. “but not today.”
He reaches around, finding your clit between his middle and index finger to pinch and roll until you lift onto your tippy toes with a gurgled scream. “Can’t fuck a baby into you back there.”
“Doctor, please! Stop!” Between heavy breaths and sniffles, Jaemin keeps laughing, biting on his lips from the conflict in your tone. Your pussy locked around his length begging for more the louder you cry and protests.
“Don’t have to beg.” He taunts, licking up your back to bite down on your jaw, his fingers continuing to pleasure your bundle of nerves incessantly. “Gonna fuck you full of cum regardless. You’re so wet for me princess.”
It’s sick, sensing the last semblance of energy leaving your fingertips, the hold you had on the table goes numb, shaking against your will as orgasm rips through you making Jaemin growl and fuck harder past the convulsing around his size. He crushes against you completely, knocking your lungs free of all air, desperately twitching as he paints your insides once again.
He’s quick to recover, faster than you can process, pulling out to throw you down onto your knees and stroke the last spurts of cum onto your lips before you can try to crawl away.
“You’re mine now.” Dr. Na’s chest beats up and down drenched in sweat. You shouldn’t like it, but as you wait for the bile to rise up your esophagus you can’t look away. The pads of his fingers clean your chin, pushing release past your swollen abused lips. Nodding with his chin that you swallow it all.
“What did I just say?” He tuts, pushing two digits down on the middle of your tongue until you cough and choke. Jerking out with a river of drool streaming out onto the floor, onto his designer loafers.
“I’m yours.” You repeat, sniffling with a cough as the tangy taste of cum lodges in your throat. It’s everywhere, rubbed raw onto your skin, stuck between your teeth. The statement is nothing but true as he watches you swallow.
“Exactly.” Dr. Na scoops you up, perched on the edge of the table to slap your thighs open. “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget that.”
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If inspiration strikes, will you write a shorter hero x taller villain where the hero overworks themself and blacks out during a fight with the villain, and they take the othe rack to their lair/apartment and they flirt whilst the villain cares for the hero
The hero woke up several times: in the car, when the villain carried them upstairs, when they were in bed. Every time was like a fever dream and even though they needed a break, whenever they dipped back into sleep, they couldn’t find any rest. They woke up more exhausted again and again and couldn’t even say anything to the villain before they closed their eyes.
So, when they woke up at 3 AM for the last time, they felt the familiar headache and the pressure on their throat that made them want to throw up. Their mornings usually began with a fight for control. The hero hated vomiting and it took them quite some time in this dark room to calm down.
The soft bed they found themselves in smelled like their enemy, the hero realised. At least they could focus on that. On something else than the acid in their throat.
Somehow they managed to get up on shaky legs and turn on the lights. Instinctively, their mind wandered to their melatonin until they realised it was in their own bedroom. Sleep wouldn’t find them that easily again, then.
Their body ached as they moved towards the door, as if their muscles had been damaged permanently.
Eventually, they found the villain in the living room. They sat at the table, staring into their laptop and writing on a paper. Once they saw the hero (it took them awhile to realise they were there), their brows knitted together.
“You’re supposed to be in bed,” they said.
“I should probably go,” the hero answered. Some nervousness crept up on them and they couldn’t explain exactly why. It was probably the absence of their melatonin. “…thank you for saving me.”
The villain gave them a once-over and the hero noticed that they were wearing one of the villain’s shirts. Their body responded with a hot face and red ears. Shit, why hadn’t they noticed sooner?
“You were pretty out of it,” the villain said. They turned towards the hero and tilted their head. “Are you sure you want to go home right now? It’s late, well, early. You haven’t gotten your ten hours of beauty sleep yet.”
The hero smiled sarcastically.
“I get three hours if I’m good.” The villain looked at them again, a little more intense this time.
“You’re a natural beauty, then,” they said before they turned towards their work once again and left the hero with their flushed face.
“How romantic,” the hero said dryly. They decided to sit down next to the villain, crossing their arms on the table and putting their head on them. They remembered falling asleep like this in class when they were younger but now… “What are you working on?”
“Ah, some kidnapping plans. I got this annoying nemesis, you know.” Their voice was pretty soft for 3 AM.
“You’re an ass,” the hero hissed.
“This ass saved you, so be a little more grateful,” the villain answered. They shrugged. “You really scared me for a second. Almost smashed open your brains. I almost didn’t catch you.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t know what’s been going on recently.”
“Recently?” They looked at each other.
“I can’t sleep anymore. I don’t know why. Nothing too traumatic happened. I am not sick or anything. I just can’t rest. Even sleeping is restless.”
“Sexual intercourse is supposed to help with that,” the villain said, grinning, and the hero’s face started to turn red once again. “I’m joking. But I get what you mean. Some nights are harder than others.”
The villain paused, looked at the things they had written down.
“But if you want to, I’m going to bed now and you can join me. Maybe it helps, I don’t know.” The villain’s eyes widened when they saw the hero. “Just sleeping, of course.”
They stood up and leaned forward, their nose a few centimetres away from the hero’s. Their grin was back.
“Unless…”
The hero rolled their eyes but some part of their brain wanted a little more than the villain suggested.
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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months
Note
Maybe The Narrator, Tyler and Male Reader as like a lil throuple or something? it can be anything idm🙏
Jack “The Narrator” x Tyler Durden x male reader
Relationship headcanons I guess?
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I love this gif,,,, whys he wearing his pants like that? who does he want to grab his hips like that, men???
Tyler is a real person in this universe, cuz it’s easier to write.
How tf did you bag not one mentally ill delusional guy, but two? Honestly, hats off to you. Cuz either you have to be just as unstable as them, or be weirdly too stable to even out their crazy.
So, depending on which, Tyler might not even pull off project mayhem if you are there to reel him in like a rabid Pomeranian wearing one of those full body harnesses.
Jack on the other hand just has so much insomnia it makes him kinda crazy, cuz not sleeping for a long time will drive you insane. Get this guy some sleeping meds, a noise machine, a weighted blanket and some of those melatonin gummies.
If you first start dating them after they start fight club, maybe you even met them there cuz one of your coworkers invited you, they’d still be kinda delulu and out for blood this time around.
Jack seems like he falls fastest, but Tyler falls hardest. You either deck both of them into the ground because its your first night at fight club, or they deck you and think you look so handsome with a bloody nose.
They’d keep circling you at fight club every week, in the beginning Tyler only does it cuz Jack likes you, and maybe Tyler is a little jealous you are taking his friends attention. At some point you’d be invited to their place.
Damn bitch, yall live like this? You try to be polite about it, but its kinda clear they live in a shithole. Screw Tyler’s whole, not owning anything and rejecting modern needs, you need a functioning shower and cable tv.
If Tyler bitches too much about your preferences, you just only invite Jack over, which has Tyler reeling too. So, whilst you are on the couch with an arm around Jack, Tyler can sit on his weirdly soggy mattress and pout.
I think we can all agree that Tyler would be jealous and possessive very easily, think a dog that seems chill, maybe a little hyper, but then snarling and snapping at anyone who comes near you or Jack. You are his, and his alone, so everyone else can stay away.
Jack is jealous and possessive too, but he’s less obvious about it, to others at least. You can tell from the way he glares or clenches his jaw, or how he bites a bit too hard when he makes hickeys on either you or Tyler.
Again, you are the most mentally stable out of all three of you, so you don’t get jealous that easily, compared to them. But that also means when you do get jealous, it has both Tyler and Jack climbing the walls, because its so hot to them.
Especially if you had to fight someone because they kept coming onto either of them, seeing you with a sneer and a bloody fist immediately has both these dudes feeling all types of hot under the collar.
Tyler is definitely a sloppy kisser. He kisses like he fights, overpowering and controlling, bites at your lips a bit too hard and grips the back of your neck and only let’s go when he’s gotten his fill.
For Jack it depends on how he’s feeling, if he’s feeling alright, he’s got the more normal kisses, maybe even just pecks. But if he’s wound up, jealous, or sleep deprived its more like how Tyler kisses.
But kissing them is also your best distraction method if either of them are getting a little too out there. Kissing or like, scruffing them or wrestling them a bit. Just keep in mind the last two most likely lead to something more.
Tyler is a blanket hog, whilst also somehow filling the bed as much as possible. Stretches out all his limbs, or keeps scooting closer to you and jack until you two are pressed up against the wall, whilst Tyler has the rest of it.
Jack is sticky when he sleeps, that meaning he’s hanging onto you. Got both arms and both legs wrapped around you, head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat cuz it helps him sleep. Sleeping between these two is hell in the summer.
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wandaspetal · 10 months
Text
Late Night Talking
𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Marvel/MCU
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)/𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬): Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff (past), Carol Danvers x Natasha Romanoff
𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞: Friends to Lovers, College AU
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6K
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, flirting teasing, mention of insomnia, anxiety and stress, jealousy, and huge fat warning college, some angst with happy ending
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: If you’re feeling down Wanda wants to make you happier baby
𝐀𝐍: Reader uses she/they pronouns. Loosely based on Late Night Talking by Harry Styles and my insomnia (surprise surprise). This was written at 3 in the morning and is unedited. Enjoy! :)
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At first it was passed off as a quirky trait they had by their friends and family members. Now they were starting to acknowledge how much of problem it is for Y/n to deal with. Hopefully Professor Harkness wouldn’t be on her ass about it. The last time they were here the professor showed an immense amount of concern at the lack of livelihood in them due to their insomnia.
She was becoming somewhat of a concerned mother figure towards her while still maintaining her professionalism.
Thankfully she wasn’t at her desk yet and it was still 5 minutes before class started. As Y/n plopped down into their seat they barely spared the person they sat next to a glance. It wasn’t an auditorium styled classroom it was one of the smaller ones. Only 20 people were in this Psychology class and it was the smallest one the professor had (she has joked about it multiple times).
Wanda couldn’t help but stare. The droopiness in their eyes and bags underneath raised so much concern. The Sokovian cleared her throat and debated giving the gift she had for Y/n now or after class. Her utensils and items she uses for class were all perfectly laid out in front of her.
She quickly reached into her bag deciding she could use Professor Harkness as a distraction in case Y/n didn’t like what she gave them. Wanda removed the plastic bag and slid it towards them.
“What- oh good morning Wanda, don’t forget your stuff.” Their voice was laced with tiredness.
Wanda giggled. Even when they were sleep deprived they were cute. “It’s for you baby.” The pet name slipped out causing both their cheeks to burn.
Y/n cleared her throat and sat up in attempt to straighten their posture but still hunched over the desk a bit to grab the bag. They untied it and looked inside to see an assortment of snacks, a water bottle and two different brands of melatonin. Their cheeks flushed for another reason. Y/n had no clue Wanda had been paying this much attention to her.
“Oh Wanda I’m sorry I- do I bother you during class? Because I can move–”
“None of that.” Wanda shook her head immediately cutting her rambling short. “Whenever I’m sleepy during class it helps me to stay awake to eat or drink in between writing…and because it helps me stay awake, I thought it might help you too…I also used to take these melatonin brands when I had issues sleeping during finals from all the stress and they worked pretty well unless you blatantly ignore the tiredness they cause you like I did at the start of taking them…” Wanda scratched the back of her head, she could not read Y/n’s expression. “Point is, I got this stuff for you because I wanted to help.”
Y/n could not fathom why someone she rarely sees outside of class would do something so kind for them. Kate, Yelena or one of their other friends would do this but Wanda and her only interacted because she briefly dated Natasha until the two decided they were better off as friends. And even then Natasha and her never got that close due to the overwhelming crush Y/n had on her in highschool. But that can be reminisced on another time.
Y/n placed her hand on Wanda’s wrist immediately feeling it relax under her touch. “Wanda, thank you, seriously.” The two shared a smile. “You’re sharing them with me throughout class though.” Wanda began to protest. “I wasn’t asking, Maximoff.” Y/n smirked when her cheeks flushed and a shy “okay.” Reached their ears.
The two shared the snacks during class and Y/n carried the melatonin around with them for the rest of the day. After eating dinner with her roommates she laid in bed for two hours until she glanced at her night stand and saw the melatonin mocking her. Melatonin usually doesn’t work, she’ll feel drowsy then immediately begin to doze off then wake up and be awake for the rest of the night.
They sighed and reached for the melatonin, ripping the package open. “5 milligrams per fruit gummy.” Y/n popped in 4 and hoped for the best.
Their phone buzzed on the bed signaling a text message coming in. Y/n grabbed it without looking and unlocked her phone. The time read 1:20 in the morning which was less worse than usual.
Wanda :D | 1:20 AM
You up?
Y/n forgot Wanda had her number after they (her friends, Natasha and Wanda) all went to the arcade together. Seems Wanda didn’t forget though.
Y/n <3 | 1:23 AM
Yup! Just took the melatonin though so let’s see if it works.
Not even 30 seconds went buy before Wanda’s name popped up on her phone, signaling she was getting a call. Y/n answered, propping herself up against the head board with her pillow for support.
“Hi.” Y/n sang.
“Hello.” Wanda’s accent was pronounced as ever. “I…sorry I called you I just- I wanted to talk to you and hear your voice, I also don’t feel like typing any longer.”
“That’s alright, not like I’m asleep.” Y/n joked with a hint of amusement in their voice.
Wanda chuckled deeply. “That’s true, which one did you take?”
“I’m too lazy to grab it and look but it has a clear packaging with the label on front.”
“Purple top?”
“Yeah.” Y/n grinned.
“Oh cool, I figured you would like gummies more.”
“And what made you think that?”
Wanda twirled her hand between her fingers as she sat at her desk inside her room at her brother’s apartment. “I sort of remembered how you said you enjoy fruit flavored things so…yeah.”
Y/n nodded even though Wanda couldn’t see them. “Yeah well you are what you eat.”
Wanda giggled. “Shut up.”
“Oh okay well I’ll just hang up now.” Y/n said with mock offense and their hand on their chest.
“Stop, no teasing.” She chastised playfully.
“Me tease? Like you weren’t calling me nicknames in class earlier.” Y/n’s chuckle was deep and raspy. After not hearing a response they pulled the phone away from their ear. Then put it back as it said the call was still going. “Hello? Wanda.”
Wanda muted herself and screamed into her pillow then calmly moved her hair out of her face as Y/n questioned where she went. She picked the phone back up and unmuted herself.
“Wanda you okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay just wanted you to see how empty your life would be if I hung up on you.”
“You are so–”
“Pretty, smart, amazing–”
“And also annoying.”
“That’s rich– you think I’m pretty?”
Y/n responded without hesitation. “What? Of course you are! Natasha only dates pretty girls and you’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen– dating her aside.”
Wanda’s smile faltered at hearing Natasha’s name. Then returned at full force as Y/n reassured her right after making that comment. Nat and Wanda being in the same friend group was a decision Wanda regrets but also loves. Her friends are some of the best people she has ever met. Once Carol and Nat started dating soon after they broke up Wanda avoided speaking to Natasha as much as possible.
“Sorry, did I make things weird by bringing up the ex…I didn’t mean too.” Y/n was now laid down in bed, snuggled under the covers with her phone to her ear.
“No you didn’t, baby.” She cleared her throat. “Are you feeling sleepy?” Wanda asked, physically resisting the urge to write notes on their current state.
Y/n swooned at the nickname for the second time that day. “Yeah.” She sang. “Are you– wait why are you still up?”
Wanda grins. “I stay up late sometimes when I don’t have plans the next day, it’s like a reward for getting through the day or week.”
“And you decided to use your reward time to call me? Such a sweet girl.”
Wanda giggled, shut off her lamp and laid down in bed under the covers. “I try.” She glanced over to see the clock read 2:30 in the morning. “We both have to try going to sleep now though angel, get some rest for me okay?”
Y/n hummed in response, her heart fluttering at the nickname. “Okay…night.”
Wanda grinned knowing the melatonin was kicking in. “Goodnight angel, sleep well.”
They both hung up and for the first time in a while Y/n got a full eight hours of sleep. Wanda sighed happily and held her phone to her chest. It was clear Y/n needed some guidance, someone to take care of them. Wanda just so happened to have her favorite love language be acts of service, what a coincidence.
Two weeks go by and Y/n’s sleeping habits start getting better at the same time Wanda and her become even closer. Unfortunately some habits take a while to stick.
“It’s not working.” Y/n cries out of stress, feeling physical tears start to come to their eyes. “Finals are right around the corner and I need to have this together or–”
They’re sitting outside in the court yard near the student center. This was the first time Wanda and Y/n have hung out outside of class without their friends around. Wanda places her hand on Y/n’s wrist effectively stopping her speech.
“Yes you will, everything’s gonna be fine baby.”
“But Wan I–”
“Baby? Didn’t know you two were that close.”
Y/n groaned and dropped her head on the metal table at the sound of another persons voice. They were already having a break down outside it’s worse that another person had to come and perceive them. Wanda forced herself to relax instead of snapping at her friends for interrupting. She understands how emotional Y/n feels as it’s how she felt during the summer semester not too long ago. Wanda turned her head to greet them as politely as she could to see Carol’s concerned expression but see Natasha’s eyes bouncing between them both with an emotion Wanda did not like; jealousy.
“Yes we are, that close. In fact I adore Y/n with everything in me and I’m trying to comfort them so now is not the best time–”
“Y/n/n what’s going on baby girl?”
Wanda felt like a hypocrite at the sound of her exes voice. Now she was jealous and looking at Y/n to avoid glaring daggers at Natasha. Her shoulders tensed up at the hand she placed on their back. Wanda nearly smiled as Y/n’s whole body tensed up at the contact.
“Ask Yelena.” Came Y/n’s muffled voice.
Natasha smiled playfully. “I will if she could answer her phone.”
Y/n sat up right and took a deep breath, inching closer to Wanda. She wiped her face as she spoke. “She’s in class today doing a double to catch up and make up for her grade so she won’t be out of class until 5:30 and I made sure her and Kate are doing a buddy system so that they won’t be around after sundown by themselves because we are women on a college campus be fucking for real and use the buddy system whenever you can and however you can….Yelena is also the size of five stacked up toasters, black belt or not buddy system always works.”
They all laughed in a various octaves at her rant.
“That is very true, the buddy system is what works best.” Carol agreed gesturing towards them with her can of soda.
“Can I have some?” Y/n asked with a pout.
“Did you have soda today already?” Wanda asked softly, scooting closer to her.
Y/n shook their head. “No, I want a sip.” She pouted.
“Okay, baby.”
“What’s with the nickname seriously,“ Natasha passed off her comment as a joke with a forced chuckle. “are you two dating?”
Wanda opened her mouth to respond but Y/n beat her too after handing Carol back her drink. “And what if we are?” They asked.
Wanda beamed at the protectiveness on their voice. “Yeah what if we are.”
“So what if Wanda is the air that I breathe and the water that I drink.” Y/n added with a shrug, pulling the brunette into her side. “I adore her just as much as she does me, if not more.” The sleep deprivation was definitely talking but so what Wanda didn’t seem to mind. Natasha looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact with them both.
The brunette giggled and kissed her cheek.
“Well congrats.” Carol added with a grin.
“Thank you fellow lesbian.” Y/n beamed.
Carol threw her head back and laughed. “You’re welcome fellow lesbian.”
They all laughed at the exchange.
The day left and night began, as the clock hit 8 Y/n took their shower and did everything they needed to be done before bed. By the time they took their melatonin it was 11 at night.
They laid down in bed with all the lights off and the quiet thrum of voices coming from the living room as Kate and Yelena worked on a project for a class they had together. Y/n’s phone began to buzz on the night stand. Knowing the only person’s notifications she had on at this time of night she answered the phone without looking at the caller ID.
“Hey.” Y/n said.
“Hi.” Wanda sung.
“How’s my pretty girl doing?”
Wanda’s cheeks burned as she left her bathroom and moved to lie down in bed. She was stunned into silence and Y/n knew it. They began to laugh.
“Sorry, too much?”
“No, not at all just a shock that’s all.”
A few minutes of silence passed as Wanda got settled down into bed with the lights in her room off and her brother out for the night.
“About that conversation earlier…”
“My breakdown or Natasha’s jealousy?”
Wanda rolled her eyes so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if Y/n heard it through the phone. “Oh god don’t get me started, that was so annoying! And I hated when she started touching you like you two are close and that she speaks to you outside of you and Yelena practically being sisters like don’t touch her!” Wanda huffed.
Y/n giggled so loud she knows her bestfriends heard it. “I didn’t realize she got you so riled up my love.”
“Tell me about it.” Wanda sighed then bit her lip at the sound of their laughter. “But no, before they walked up I wanted to tell you that I understand how you feel and I’m here for you, you’re going to get through this.”
Y/n wished the Sokovian stood in front of her so that she could give her a hug. “Thank you sweetheart.”
“Of course angel.”
“You wanna stay on the phone with me tonight? I like the sound of your voice.”
“Well you have to I am your girlfriend now.”
Y/n chuckled. “Yeah…” Silence passed between as they both thought over that part of the conversation. “I would actually like for you to be my girlfriend in the future Wanda…I feel like you want the same but I could be wrong–”
“You’re not. I like you so much. Our nightly talks are something I’ve been looking forward to every day since they’ve started….can I take you on a date?”
“Absolutely.”
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archangeldyke-all · 2 months
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hello! what are your thoughts on sevika with a reader who has crippling anxiety? like most days in bed because she cannot leave. of course you don’t have to and remember to take care of yourself🩵
i've been there it's so fucking horrible, i hope this eases some of that pain for you baby. <3
men and minors dni
she has a whole system in place for when her baby's having bad days.
all you need to do is tell her that you're feeling anxious and she's on it.
she never forces you to do something you don't want to, and she tries her very best not to overwhelm you. she just gently sits on the side of your bed, rubbing your back beneath the blankets as she quietly asks you what she can do for you.
sometimes the answer is nothing. when this is the case, sevika will leave you to sleep for a while as she goes to the kitchen to cook up your absolute favorite foods. it doesn't matter how indulgent or unhealthy they are, she just wants to get something in your stomach. she'll come back a few hours later, help you sit up in bed, and present a plate loaded with food to you.
she's never had to yet, but she'd even be willing to feed you if you asked her to.
she's certain to keep your water filled and by your bed. even if you don't drink it, she comes in once every few hours to put fresh ice in it, just so when you find the motivation to grab it it'll be nice and cool for you.
if you want to be alone, she'll leave you alone. she'll set you up with your phone or laptop and charger, pulling up your comfort show and putting all your social medias on mute-- hoping that you won't start doom scrolling.
she still checks in on you once or twice an hour, just poking her head in to make sure you're okay, pressing a kiss to your head before leaving you alone again.
but if you don't want to be alone, sevika's all over you.
she'll curl up around you, one hand on your heart and one on your stomach, gently drawing circles into your skin as she deeply breathes in your ear so you subconscious can match it.
if you want it quiet, she'll stay quiet. if you want to watch your comfort show, she'll watch it with you. but if you want to hear her voice, sevika will talk herself hoarse to bring you some comfort. anything from the weather to her earliest memories as a child-- she'll tell it all to you just to distract you from your brain.
if you start feeling restless and jittery, sevika's happy to flop on top of you and act as your personalized weighted blanket.
it doesn't matter how long it takes-- sevika will wait by your side (or in the next room) with you until your anxiety lessens enough that you feel like you can get up.
and when you finally do, she'll help you to the shower, stripping you down and turning the water on to the perfect temperature before guiding you under the stream.
she lets you stand like that for a few minutes while she puts fresh pj's on the counter and fresh sheets on the bed. then, she strips down and comes in with you, helping you wash-- knowing how overwhelming even that can be for you.
and when you're done, if you're up for it, sevika will dress you up and take you on a very very quick walk around the block.
i'm talking short. like up the street and back. she knows that being away from home makes you anxious-- the last thing she wants to do is make it worse. she just wants you to get some fresh air because she knows it helps. and usually, by the time you guys are back in front of your house, it has helped, and you tug on her hand and ask if she'd like to go around the whole block with you.
she always says yes. always.
when you get back home, no matter how late (or early) it is, sevika will make you a cup of sleepytime tea or a glass of warm milk or hot chocolate, along with a few melatonin capsules.
she'll guide you back to bed and lay with you until you start snoring. it's only then that she'll rise and change herself into sleeping clothes, gathering the plates that have accumulated by your bed and taking them to the sink, but leaving them for the morning. after all-- she's got you all cozy in her bed. she's not gonna leave you alone for a moment longer than she needs.
it doesn't matter how often it happens. it doesn't matter how long it will take. sevika's going to be by your side though thick and thin, and it'll take a whole lot more than bad anxiety to scare her away.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby
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imsosillygoofylol · 23 days
Text
TRIGGERED 2
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Pairing: matt sturniolo x poc!reader
triggered
Synopsis: y/n helps a murder suspect not knowing what she got herself into.
Warning! death, mental illness, smoking, tattoos, blood, i THINK that’s it.
envy yaps: guys so basically nick is trying to tell me that matt wants me and that’s why they were watching edward sciccorhands. (don’t take this seriously im delusional 😋😓)
after what felt like a never-ending battle with sleep, tossing and turning. unable to find a comfortable position. your mind racing with thoughts, worries, making it hard to let your body relax. constantly checking the clock counting down the hours until you have to get up for class was frustrating.
you’ve never struggled with insomnia but tonight, the night that you had all to yourself. no work, no school work (mostly because you only went to one of your classes) you couldn’t seem to relax, let go and shut your head off. you could only think of nick, his family, the murder.
you seen the news when you got home, apparently the family was brutally slaughtered. only person left alive was matt sturniolo. after that you shut off the tv, not being able to take all of this in.
you didn’t know much about matt either, you definitely knew he was different from his brothers though. he never went to parties or atleast not the ones you would attend, he kept a small circle usually would only be seen with nick around campus. unlike his brothers, nick and chris were always at parties, with a big group of friends.
you tried your best to atleast get a couple hours of sleep. you tried drinking tea, smoking, even taking a melatonin gummy but there was no use. now you’re here restless getting ready to be interrogated by the police. luckily you’re day won’t be too long, you have one after noon class because the other one got canceled, and two appointments. you’re praying you’re home by eight.
as you’re driving to school you’re mentally preparing yourself and what you’re gonna say to the police. you can possibly be a suspect, you were one of the last people to see him. you start to get nervous, your heart starts racing. no they can’t think you could’ve done something like this right?
you start pulling into the school parking lot, full of police cars and officers. everything looked so dull, not a single smile on anyone’s face, the gloomy sky made everything feel a little worse.
you get out your car and walk to your class. you start to contemplate going back home, you can just say you didn’t feel good right? or wouldn’t that be suspicious.
you walk into class and sit in your usual seat, after fifteen minutes the professor finally announces. “good morning students, police are now taking students in for questioning. there will be no bathroom breaks!”
this actually can’t be real, you start to get nervous again. your heart racing and palms getting sweaty.
a police officer comes in and stands in front of the door. “good morning students, i need michael johnson, olivia anderson, y/n y/l/n, and sophia smith. follow me” he orders.
you grab your belonging and follow the officer, he leads you guys to an office. “sit here and wait your turn, michael come with me” he says.
you sit down outside the office with two other girls, you start fidgeting with your hands. “if they ask did you know him, you say no.” you didn’t know him, you knew of him. “if they ask the last time you seen him, say he came to a tattoo shop i work in, asked for a tattoo.” that’s all, the most they’d want is to see the camera footage. that really calmed you down, before you knew it, it was your turn.
“ms. y/n come with me!” the officer said. you followed him inside. “you can sit there.” you sit, your eyes start to trial off observing the officers and their names. “okay let’s get started, what’s your full name?” he asks looking up from his clip bored.
“y/n y/l/n sir.” you plainly respond trying your best to make eye contact. eye contact was hard for you, you find holding eye contact to be a little overwhelming, it just feels wrong.
“did you know nick sturniolo?” he questions, observing your every move while another officer picks up a note pad and a pen.
you start to think about his question , you didn’t know him you’ve only ever had one encounter with him. “no, i’ve seen him around school that’s about it.” you finally answer.
“is that it?” he asked writing something down on his notepad not bothering to look up at you.
“i mean yeah, we talked like once but i wouldn’t consider that knowing him.” you reply truthfully.
“and when was this?” he looks up.
“couple days ago.”
“please be specific ms. y/n .” his tone changed as he began to sit up.
“two days ago.” you muttered. it sounds so bad and guilty when you say it out loud.
“when and where?” a different officer spoke up, staring deep into your eyes.
“uh like around 12 am.” you pause for a moment gathering your words before you speak again. you were nervous again. “he came to the tattoo shop i work in, looking to get something done.”
“12 am?” he writes down. “that seems a bit late to be tattooing someone don’t you think?”
“i know but he asked and i have a hard time saying no to people.” you sighed adjusting in your seat uncomfortably.
“is it possible you can show us where?” he says writing something down on the notepad.
“yes of course, i work at 2:30 is that okay with you?” it’s gonna be fine right? this has nothing to do with you, all you did was tattoo him and you went home afterwards.
“mhm.” he mumbles. “what’s the address?”
you give him the address and you’re free to leave. it didn’t go that bad, you thought it was gonna be like some crazy integration where they yell at you until you confess or something.
❀᭢͏ུ  
you went on with you day as normal. when the time came you showed the police the camera footage, they took a copy and left. they said there was nothing suspicious so you assumed they ruled you out as a suspect.
“you don’t have nothing to do with that do you?” your manager isn’t really from here so she knows little to none of what has been going on. but it’s all over the news and social media she must know something.
“of course not, what makes you think i would?” now you’re worried, did you seem suspicious?
“i’m just kidding, can’t lose one of my favorite artists!” she chuckles trying to lighten up the mood. you let out a forced laugh before walking to your little room waiting for your next appointments.
it was around 7:40 pm when you were done with your last tattoo. you were done earlier than expected. it was hard being in the shop today, it felt like you were being suffocated, being so sleep deprived stressed was starting to mess with you. you tried your best to pull through and not fuck up anyones tattoo.
“bye rick, bye anna i’ll see you tomorrow!” you say leaving out the door. as you’re walking to the parking lot you hear yelling.
“fuck you murderer!”
“you’re a fucking piece of shit!”
“you’re a fucking sick animal!”
you keep your distance, until you see two men running away. you heard a distant groan as you walk closer, you heard some coughing coming from a man on the ground. you got closer he’s clearly bleeding. you stare for a moment, why do these things always seem to happen to you. you let out a heavy sign knowing you can’t leave him here like this. you bend down to get a clear look at his face.
it was matt sturniolo.
oh my god is this family here to haunt you or what. you start to tap him and try to get him to wake up. you try to get him to stand up a little maybe gain consciousness.
“please get up.”
you try your best to carry him to your car, put him in the backseat before someone can see. you start to pull out of the parking lot and drive home, watching him through the rear view mirror every couple seconds.
sitting in the parking lot of your apartment building thinking about how you’re gonna carry him up to your apartment without anyone noticing. you can just drop him off at the emergency room and they’ll figure it out. this can’t be real, this week must be some kind of fucked up dream.
you get out your car, pulling him out when you see your neighbor. you and him are good friends, you consider asking him for help.
fuck it.
“noah, can you help me please?” you call out for him.
“yeah, what’s up?” he says walking up to you. his face drops when he notices who’s in the backseat of your car literally passed out. “y/n what the actual fuck!” he whisper yelled.
“you have to help me please, he’s my friend and he was in a crazy fight and now he’s unconscious.” you plead.
“you owe me big time!” he helps you sneak matt through the back door of the building successfully without a single soul seeing you guys.
once you made it to your apartment, noah helped you clean him up, he got some clothes from his apartment to help change matt, and put a couple bandages on him. noah helped you lay him down on your couch for the night, making sure you check his breathing.
“thank you so much noah, i’m so sorry i just couldn’t leave him there to die.” this has to be the worst week ever.
“it’s fine, just get some sleep and call me if anything you know where i am.” he says dryly before turning to make his way to his apartment.
you close the door turning around, walking past your living room into your bedroom. you walk into your bathroom undressing yourself, thinking about this hell of a fucking week. why do you keep putting yourself into these situations? why can’t you just say no and mind your business?
after your shower you scroll on your phone, on social media you see multiple posts about matt. many of them being negative, why do people think he did it? you start going down a deep rabbit hole on the case. apparently he’s been “on the run” and ducking the police for his questioning.
what the fuck did you get yourself into. well there’s no proof he killed his family so you’re fine. you get up and lock your door just to be safe. your mom would go crazy if she found out you have a stranger in your house, a murder suspect. she would probably kill you before matt can. this reminds you, you seriously need to text your mom back.
MOM
I just seen the news about this family being murdered close to campus, are you okay?
Maybe you should come home for a while!
Y/N
mom i’m fine
it’s not a big deal
i have to focus on my studies i’ll visit soon
love you!
growing up your mom always said “don’t let people take your kindness for weakness” and that’s exactly what you always did. not that it was on purpose, you just had a good heart, always tried to see the best in people.
❀᭢͏ུ  
again like the past nights, you’ve gotten little to no sleep. this time because you kept checking up on the stranger on your couch making sure he doesn’t die. you were really hoping he wasn’t some crazy psycho, murderer. maybe he’ll spare you since you saved his life.
through out the night you were thinking about tying him to a chair so he wouldn’t do nothing crazy when he woke up, but what if he thinks you kidnapped him or something. you read the time on the clock before checking up on him.
7:35 AM
you sigh for the millionth time while walking down the hall to the couch. you hear shuffling and a quiet yawn. you keep your distance, if he comes running at you, you might have time to lock yourself in the bathroom.
he opened his eyes and started to look around before sitting up, his eye caught yours. you didn’t know how to react, you give him a half smile while walking closer to him.
“what is this? what’s going on?” he tries to stand up but groans at the pain. what the fuck does he mean what is this? does he not have a single memory of what happened to him last night?
you make a face before you even get to respond. “you got beat up, i didn’t know where to take you so i brought you here.” you give him a comforting smile, which wasn’t very comforting to him.
“they paying you for this?” his face emotionless as he looks done and traces his hands over his bruised stomach.
people obviously don’t know how to be grateful these days. you saved his life and he here goes thinking it’s about money, should’ve left his ass in that parking lot. “no, you were pretty beat up and i would’ve felt really bad leaving you there like that.” a nice thank you would be appreciated.
he didn’t even bother to look at you, just stared off at the ceiling like he didn’t care what you had to say. he was in his own world not caring that you were just standing there watching him.
he look at you for a second then stood up, wincing at the pain. he started to walk towards you which startled you causing you back up. “where are you going?” you asked giving him a confused yet scared expression. he didn’t say anything though, he was searching for something. he opened a closet looked inside then closed it, until he found the bathroom and went inside. walking around opening shit like he owns the place. a simple “where’s the bathroom?” would’ve been fine. what is it with rich people and not having manners?
you walk to the kitchen to put food in lunas bowl, you heard the toilet flush and the water run. you turn around and start pouring her food when you hear the door open. you start to think about work, where the fuck was he going to stay while you were out.
you turn back around. “what were you doing in the parking lot last night?” he sure wasn’t getting a tattoo if he was “on the run”. he doesn’t bother answering you, he laid his body back down on the couch and turns over.
you decide to let him sleep and find some clothes that’ll fit him. you find some grey sweats and a random blue hoodie. you let him sleep for another hour or two before waking him up. you tap his shoulder a couple times before you hear him groan. “matt you need to get up and shower, you also need to figure out where you’re gonna go i have work in a couple hours.” you watch him roll his eyes before he sits up, you hand him a towel and clothes before walking into the bathroom to start the shower. you bend over to start the shower turning it on hot but not enough to burn him.
you turn around and accidentally bump into him, he gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen. “fuck sorry.” you walk out of the bathroom standing in front of the door. “also there a toothbru-“ he cuts you off slamming the door in your face. rude!
you make your way to your bedroom picking out an outfit. you had four scheduled appointments today, it wasn’t horrible and it’s saturday, you won’t be home too late.
you sat on your bed thinking about your week, what if you would’ve said no to nick? what if you just kept him a little longer in the shop, maybe had a conversation? would he still be here? and as for matt, he’s honestly rude as fuck. not a single thank you has came out of his mouth. should’ve just left him to rot on the ground.
you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps approaching your room door. you know it’s matt but you can’t help but feel bad for him. his family was murdered. some people react different ways, maybe he just doesn’t want to show he’s hurt. that doesn’t excuse the lack of manners though.
“are you hungry? i could order or cook something for you before i leave.” he stands there with an annoyed expression on his face. for what reason? you’re just trying to be a nice host, there’s no need for all this hostility.
“i’m fine, i’m leaving i have somewhere to be.” he turns walking away. where the fuck does he have to be, is he not literally avoiding the police.
“where are you going?” you pause following him. “are the police not literally looking for you?”
“it’s whatever, i don’t want to be here.” he turned to look at me.
what the actual fuck is wrong with him. after you saved him this is how he acts? his words hurt you a little, more than you would admit. he’s a stranger why should you care what he says. you can’t help but think if you did something to make him not wanna be here or something.
“that’s actually crazy, i really could’ve left you to there die but i didn’t. i helped you and this is your way of thanking me? literally in worst way possible, but it’s fine you can leave… i wont care when they arrest you.”
his eyes narrow. “what are you implying?” he stood there waiting for your next words, taking a step closer to you.
you take a step back. “i’m not implying anything.” you raise an eyebrow. you weren’t trying to upset him, just warn him about his decision. he literally got beat the fuck up for something no one knows if he even did.
“really? cus it sounds like you think i did it.” his jaw clenched, he’s visibly annoyed. there’s no reason to jump to conclusions, those words simply never came out of your mouth.
“i never said that, all im saying is maybe you should just go to the station and get questioned. then everything will kinda go back to normal.” you’re honestly just trying to help there’s no reason for him to be acting this way. this explains why he doesn’t have any friends.
“back to normal!?” he raises his voice which causes you to flinch. “my family is dead!” you didn’t mean it that way. why can’t he just understand you’re trying to help.
“i didn’t mean it that wa-“
he interrupts you once again. “what the fuck is wrong with you, how did you mean it huh?”
“i’m sorry.” you voice very low avoiding his eyes. you felt bad your wording is obviously making him feel some type of way, the last thing you want to do is point fingers. he’s probably already going through enough and you adding on it probably making him feel awful.
he observes you, his eyes moving around your whole body. you started to feel a bit uneasy, the silence made you uncomfortable. “i didn’t mean to make you feel bad, im truly sorry. i just think you should get questioned so something like that,” you point to the very visible bruises on his face. “doesn’t happen again, and if you don’t have a place to stay youre welcomed here.”
he stays silent taking a seat on the couch again. bring his hands to cover up his face as he thinks. you take this opportunity to walk back to your room and get ready for work.
you don’t understand why he’s being so complicated, you helped him and it’s fine if he doesn’t want to be here or even listen to you but he doesn’t have to come off so harsh. you didn’t want to let this ruin your day. you gather your things and start walking down the hall.
“fine, i’ll go.” you stop and your eyes meet with matt.
“hm?”
“i’ll go get questioned but im not staying here for more than a couple days.” he says standing up walking toward you. “but not today tomorrow is good yeah?” he voice softer than before. he had time to think about the situation and thought your suggestion was best.
“okay, you can stay tonight. there’s food in the fridge i’m sure you can figure something out.” you grabbed you keys and start walking out the door. “i’ll be home later tonight.”
but before you can fully close the door you hear matt mutter a “thank you”. you can’t help but smile to yourself. the smile quickly fades away when you remember he can possibly be a murderer. you really have to stop letting these things happen to you.
❀᭢͏ུ  
envy yaps: hellloooo erm this was supposed to be posted like 3 days ago but i didn’t like it so i rewrote it lol. guys i need matt bad like so cutie pie bbg princess like stoppppp!!!
🏷️’s @tastesousweet @ghostlythinggoingaround @junnniiieee07 @stasiesturn @keerahsturn @matty334455
comment if you want to be added lol!
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