notes: genderneutral reader, implied hk reader (or i wrote this with a hk!reader in mind, but nothing is really explicitly stated)
author's note: that feeling when u make a side blog bc u got attached to a character in a descendents movie n there is not enough fanfiction for him
dating max is getting almost two boyfriends in one. he has his front, the max he shows off to the public, a guard to distract those from his lineage. when he's with you, he softens. pda is not something he is against, but when it is just the two of you, it is different. there's no performance. it can be dizzying, to go from gentle affection to his standard teasing next, but you appreciate seeing the full picture.
only trusts you to help dye his hair. he has done it himself many times, and has no issues doing it, but it's an excuse to have you close and playing with his hair. i do believe he would love if you dyed a matching streak in your own. he isn't possessive, but subtle reminders of him on you is something he eats up.
this goes for his nails as well. he might even prefer this more, its so intimate. proximity at an all time high as you hold his hand, careful to prevent flooding his cuticle. he loves watching your determined face. taking something so lighthearted so serious. he might even let you pick one of the colors, if youre good. (even if you weren't, he'd cave pretty quick)
pets name go crazy with him, and for a while you wondered if he even knew your name, especially at the beginning. sweetheart, darling, bunny, prince/princess, baby in an especially condensing tone that makes you weak in the stomach. the only time he refers to you with your first name is when he's worried about you.
would love to sneak into your dorm window at night. he finds it amusing the way you jump, as if he has never done this before.
some nights he stays in with you, laying on your bed while you do some boring task. he tries his hardest to distract you, with loudly practicing card tricks, hovering behind you with his chin on your shoulder, light tickles to your side, anything to get your attention back on him. (he can take a hint if you truly need to get something done, but he also knows that sometimes you need pulled out of your own head.)
some nights he's taking you out, whether that's somewhere in the forest, the lake, or even wonderland depending on his mood. he finds solace in the moments where when he's with you, he isn't the son of maddox hatter, but simply max.
loves to try and push your limits. he'll flirt with you excessively, knowing exactly what to say to get you stumbling over your words and an embarrassed look on your face. he eats it up. however, he cannot take what he dishes out. if you're able to hit him with a similiar compliment, match his energy, he will turn a lovely shade of pink.
only lets you wear his hat. it is mostly a trust thing, something stemming deep from his time on the isle. the first time you did it he had to remind himself that you loved him and robbing him was the last thing on your mind. he was able to cave quickly, seeing you wear his hat, something known to belong to him left his insides warm, feeling secure in ways he hadn't before. the moment wasn't even ruined when you began to impersonate him, he only laughed.
returning to pda, he enjoys it. using you as an arm rest, fingers brushing as he walks past, pulling you to lean against him when the both of you are standing, quick kisses on the face as a goodbye. the type of stuff that might go unnoticed if someone isn't looking for it. full believer that max would not keep you hidden or a secret, but he is a private person.
if you're a tea drinker, i do believe he can make a killer cup of it. no matter the type, he knows how long to steep it. it's genetic, and something he falls back to when you're sick or upset.
awkward at comforting. growing up on the isle and with his father, it isn't something he is used to. would most likely copy strategies you have used to help him, gauging what you need. think his natural response would be to listen while you vent and pulling you close.
eventually, your dorm would become his too. he leaves clothes, has a toothbrush there, and is often there even if you aren't. he doesn't admit it, but he likes the domesticity of sharing a space. (hopefully, if you have a roommate, they like him). he doesn't daydream often, but picturing a future with you might be his most common one.
you probably say i love you first, but he would want to say it for a while before you do so. he just wants a promise of you feeling the same. you try and tell him that there isn't any rush, that you don't expect him to say it because you did, and he shuts you up with a kiss and murmurs it on your lips.
the first time i write anything for a new character i am hyperaware of how out of character they might be so please be nice lol.
cw: mdni (18+), nsfw, aged up max, both are of age, fem!reader, hickeys, praise kink, teasing, dating hcs / scenarios , sexual themes
a/n: you guys really wanted max, so i tried my best to deliver! this is my first time writing for him and i hope you enjoy it. these are just some of my thoughts and feelings about him because i absolutely love my weird purple boyfriend also….is it just me, or does he have the biggest puppy-dog eyes in that one scene? i can’t get over it
.✦ ݁˖ SFW
max is a creature of habit. he loves waking you up with a kiss and a perfectly brewed cup of tea, but he’ll use the time to subtly brag about a goal he’s already achieved before you’ve even opened your eyes. it’s his way of seeking your validation
he loves that he doesn’t have to pretend with you. around everyone else he’s the chaotic, theatrical max hatter, but with you he lets the softer edges show. he’ll pull you into quiet corners just to steal a moment where it’s only the two of you. then, just as quickly, he’ll flip back to teasing, spinning you around and declaring to no one in particular that his princess is the only person who can keep up with him
he has a keen eye for fashion.he loves helping you pick out your outfits, not because he wants to control you, but because he views you as an extension of his own prestige. he loves it when you look stunning, but he loves it even more when he knows you're wearing something he picked for you
he thrives on making you laugh, on seeing that smile he claims is better than any magic in wonderland.and when the day winds down, he’s the one who pulls you close,fingers tangled with yours, quietly admitting he’s never been this happy pretending to be normal with anyone else
when he’s truly stubborn,he won’t fight with you—he’ll just give you that overly pleasant ‘hatter act’.it’s a psychological game. he waits for you to crack the moment you show genuine distress, his kind heart wins out and he’ll fold instantly, pulling you into a tight embrace
when he’s jealous he becomes incredibly possessive in a subtle way. he’ll slide his arm around your waist or start talking about a private joke only the two of you share, effectively marking his territory without ever raising his voice
max loves to play with your anticipation. he’ll lean in slow, his lips just a fraction of an inch from yours, holding the position until you're practically vibrating with need. just as you close your eyes to finally seal the gap, he’ll whisper a cheeky joke or a playful comment in your ear and pull away with a grin, loving the way you pout.
he has a habit of "stealing" things from you,just to get your attention. he won't hide them far, but he'll make you "earn" them back through a series of ridiculous challenges or by giving him a specific number of kisses
he is subconsciously driven by your praise. if you tell him how much you love it when he does a certain chore or how "amazing" he is at something, he will practically obsess over doing it even better next time. he doesn't just want to be the best in wonderland; he wants to be the absolute best in your eyes
while he’s generally playful and lighthearted,max has a protective side that surfaces the moment he feels you're being slighted. he doesn't necessarily get aggressive, but he becomes incredibly poised and sharp-tongued, using his charm and wit to shut down anyone who doesn't treat you with the respect you deserve
.✦ ݁˖. NSFW
because he spends his whole life trying to prove himself, hearing you tell him how good he is—specifically how well he's fucking you—drives him absolutely wild. a whispered "you're so good to me— so good max" will make him lose all his composure
in the bedroom, his ambition manifests as a need to dominate the experience. he loves being the one to dictate the pace, guiding your body exactly where he wants it. he enjoys the feeling of you completely unraveling under his touch, knowing he's the only one capable of making you feel that way
he’s fascinated by your reactions.he loves to push you to the edge of an orgasm and then stop abruptly, teasing you until you're begging him to finish. he treats your pleasure like a challenge, wanting to see exactly how much you can take before you break
he has a habit of leaving marks—hickeys on your neck or bite marks on your shoulder—specifically in places that are hidden by clothes. it’s his secret way of reminding you and himself that you belong to him, even when you're out in the world acting the part of the perfect couple
.✦ ݁˖ + he’d also say / do things like :
you catch the way max’s eyes light up the second you walk into the room, that signature grin spreading across his face like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. “ah, there she is… my princess has finally arrived.” he says it loud enough for everyone to hear, making a dramatic show of clearing a path with exaggerated bows and sweeping gestures. “everyone, please make way. the princess requires room to walk.”
he loves teasing you when you’re in a mood, leaning in close with that playful lilt in his voice. “oh no, the princess is unhappy? whatever shall i do?” it’s never mean-spirited—he’s already watching your reaction, ready to pivot into something softer if he senses even a hint of real annoyance. when he realizes he’s pushed it too far, he gets adorably awkward about it, suddenly offering you his favorite hat or pulling you into a clumsy hug while mumbling, “okay, okay, i’m sorry, princess… here, you can wear the hat. it looks better on you anyway.”
the more time you spend together, the bolder his playfulness gets.he’ll tug you into his lap without warning, arms looping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “i cannot believe i have to deal with you” he’ll groan dramatically, but there’s nothing but affection in the way his fingers trace lazy circles on your hip. other times he switches to pure compliments, whispering against your ear how stunning you look today or how your laugh is his favorite sound in all of wonderland
max acts like the most confident guy in the room—unpredictable, loud, always pulling some new trick out of his sleeve or hat —but you’re the one who sees how much he actually cares. he’ll pretend he doesn’t notice when you catch him being sweet “what? i just happened to be going this way,” he’ll claim with a shrug, but the tips of his ears turn pink every single time
max hatter | white queen descendant!reader | gn!reader |
wc. 1.2k | fluff |
a/n | wanted to post something before i started request so people get an idea how i write things! love this boy a lot really couldn’t help myself to make him first. lmk what you think!
border by @/dollywons
The first rule of Wonderland politics was simple:
Never trust anyone smiling at you.
The second?
Never trust anyone who wasn't.
You learned both before you could walk.
The White Queen's descendant sat at the edge of the castle gardens, one gloved hand balancing a delicate porcelain teacup while the other skimmed through a thick, white-bound book. Beside you rested an acceptance letter to Auradon Prep.
Every rose in the garden leaned subtly closer, eager to peek at its contents.
"Eyes on your own petals," you sighed, snapping the book shut.
The flowers immediately straightened, pretending they hadn't been staring.
A small laugh escaped you.
Peace. Quiet.
Exactly how you preferred it.
Exactly how you assumed it would remain...
...until it didn't.
A startled scream split the air overhead.
Your gaze lifted just in time to see a boy around your age plummet over the castle wall and disappear into a hedge with an impressive crash.
Silence returned.
For all of three seconds.
The boy burst upright, leaves tangled in his hair caught beneath the brim of an oversized hat. He looked wildly around the garden until his eyes found yours.
For a fleeting moment, the panic in his expression melted into something else. Curiosity — as though he'd stumbled upon something far rarer than an escape route.
A crooked grin spread across his face.
Then heavy footsteps echoed beyond the gates.
His grin vanished instantly, and his panic returned tenfold.
"Hide me... please." He begs.
You considered the request.
If he was fleeing the unmistakable march of royal guards, perhaps he deserved whatever consequences awaited him.
Yet desperation was difficult to counterfeit.
His eyes carried none of the arrogance of a criminal — only the urgency of someone truly cornered. Against your better judgment, compassion prevailed.
You gave a small nod and he hurried to your side.
"Do not make me regret this," you said evenly, rearranging the items on your tea table as though nothing were amiss.
You sprinkled another spoonful of sugar into your tea.
"You won't, I prom—"
You spared him no opportunity to finish.
Instead, you pressed the teacup gently toward his lips.
He took an involuntary sip.
It took only seconds.
His voice squeaked.
His sleeves swallowed his hands.
Until finally...
...he stood no taller than your boot.
You carefully gathered him into your palm just as the castle gates burst open.
The Queen of Hearts' Royal Deck marched into the gardens, armor gleaming and spears striking the stone in perfect rhythm.
Their eyes swept across the grounds.
You merely lifted your teacup with quiet composure.
"Ordinarily," you observed, "one receives notice before such a grand entrance."
Your calm gaze settled upon the captain.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of the Queen of Hearts' Royal Deck visiting the White Queen's gardens?"
Only then did they seem to notice you.
Every soldier snapped to attention.
One bearing six embroidered hearts stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"We apologize for the disturbance, Your Highness."
From within your hand came a tiny whisper.
"They're apologizing?"
You shifted your fingers ever so slightly.
The miniature boy understood the warning and wisely fell silent.
"We are pursuing a fugitive," the captain continued. "He fled through this area after vandalizing royal property. Under the direct order of Her Majesty, the Queen of Hearts, we must bring him in. Have you happened to see him?"
The soldiers slammed their spear shafts against the stone. The sharp crack made the tiny figure in your hands flinch. Without drawing attention to it, you subtly angled your hands farther from the soldiers.
"There has been no such individual within these gardens," you replied without hesitation. "Nevertheless, I shall instruct our own guards to remain vigilant."
A measured pause followed.
"What is this fugitive's name?"
"Max Hatter, Your Highness. Son of Maddox Hatter."
You inclined your head thoughtfully, using your teacup to cover your moves.
Opening your hand just enough to glance downward, you found the tiny boy tipping his hat with entirely inappropriate politeness.
"I appreciate the information," you said. "You may carry on."
With another bow, the soldiers departed.
The gates shut behind them.
Silence reclaimed the gardens.
Only then did you release the breath you hadn't realized you were holding.
You lowered your hand to the table, releasing the fugitive from your grasp.
The miniature Hatter walks around the table, looking up expectantly.
"...Now what?"
You glanced toward the roses.
They immediately began shaking their branches.
A sleepy hedgehog tumbled out from beneath the bushes, along with a neatly wrapped biscuit that had apparently been serving as its pillow.
You offered the creature an apologetic smile.
"My apologies, Serge."
The hedgehog merely gave an understanding snuffle before curling back into its nap.
You broke off a small piece of the biscuit and handed it to Max.
He accepted it with both hands.
One bite later...
He was full-sized once again.
Max dusted crumbs from his coat before looking at you with unmistakable admiration.
Without warning, he reached for your hand.
He bowed.
Then gently pressed a kiss against your gloved knuckles.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
He stepped backward toward the gates.
"A pleasure, Hatter," you replied. "Although..."
You tilted your head ever so slightly.
"Are you certain you wish to leave through the very gate those guards just used?"
"A Hatter never stays in one place for long."
He flashed that same irrepressible grin.
"Besides..."
He effortlessly juggled your porcelain teacup between his hands.
"No one ever checks the same place twice."
One elegant eyebrow rose.
"So."
Your voice remained perfectly level.
"You intend to add royal theft to your growing list of charges?"
For perhaps the first time since crashing into your garden...
Max hesitated.
He looked down at the teacup. The porcelain gleamed beneath the afternoon sun.
Then he smiled.
"I suppose I do..."
His eyes met yours.
"...if it means I'll have an excuse to see you again at convocation."
A challenge. A playful one.
You met it without the slightest crack in your composure.
"I shall be certain to greet you."
A tiny pause.
"Perhaps with several guards accompanying me."
Max laughed.
"Then I'll hold the Crown to it."
He tipped his hat dramatically.
"Adieu."
Determined to make a graceful exit, he strode backward through the gates only to trip spectacularly over the threshold. The resulting crash echoed through the gardens.
He sprang upright as though nothing had happened.
You couldn't help it.
A soft laugh escaped you.
Max looked back.
The grin he gave you this time was smaller.
Warmer.
Then, the marching echoed close again. With another wave and a smirk of mischief, he disappeared beyond the walls.
You remained where you were, watching the gate sway gently until even the sound of footsteps faded into the distance.
Maddox Hatter's son...
How curious.
A chorus of delighted squeals suddenly erupted beside you.
The roses.
You turned to find their white petals slowly blushing pink.
Your expression remained composed, though you sighed as you lightly brushed the nearest bloom with the back of your hand.
"Compose yourselves."
The flowers only giggled harder.
You closed your eyes for a brief moment.
It seemed...
Auradon Prep was going to make for a very interesting year.
cw: mdni ( 18 + ) young adult au, both are of age, fem!reader, suggestive, established relationship, pet names, teasing, strength kink, arm kink, biceps,manhandling, playful headlock, biting, dirty thoughts, reader is down horrendous
a/n: based on these two requests and i totally see the chuck bass similarities now..no wonder i’m so obsessed with him. i miss chuck.
max always wore long sleeves and coats before, keeping that mysterious vibe, but on that scorching summer day he ditched them for a simple t-shirt. the second you spotted those defined biceps and veiny forearms, your jaw dropped. be caught you staring and just smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing
you couldn’t resist pressing your cheek against his arm the first time you saw him like that. max chuckled low in his throat, flexing just a little so you could feel the muscle shift under your skin. “didn’t know my arms were that interesting, sweetheart,” he teased, voice dripping with playful arrogance
max has started flexing on purpose when he feels your face against his arm. the muscle swells under your skin and he reaches over with his free hand to gently squish your cheeks together, making your lips pout while he watches with that smug little grin. “look at you, princess” he teases
he started wearing short sleeves on purpose after that. every time you clung to him, squeezing and rubbing your face against his bicep like it was your favourite pillow, max would tilt his head and ask if you needed a minute or if you were planning to stay attached all day
max loves catching you off guard. he’ll suddenly lift his arm and rest it on top of your head like an armrest, your cheek still glued to his bicep. “comfy?” he asks, all fake innocence while you blush and nod
max loves the attention. he’ll casually stretch or roll his shoulders just to watch your eyes follow the movement. when you get all flustered and try to play it cool, he leans down and murmurs, “you’re not subtle at all, you know that, princess ?”
on lazy afternoons he lets you trace the veins on his forearms with your fingertip while he scrolls on his phone.he pretends to ignore it, but the tiny smirk on his lips gives him away every single time
max has this habit of ruffling your hair with one big hand after you’ve been clinging to him the casual dominance of it always makes your stomach flip, and he knows it
your mind wanders constantly when you’re pressed against him. you imagine those strong hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks, or wrapping around your throat while he whispers filthy things in your ear about how obsessed you are with his strength
he loves manhandling you in private. one arm hooks around your waist and lifts you onto his lap like you weigh nothing. the other hand tilts your chin up so you have to look at him while he teases you for being so weak for him
sometimes he playfully puts you in a loose headlock, pulling you close against his chest while his lips brush your ear. “pay attention to me,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, exactly the way your dirty thoughts predicted.
your mind drifts constantly when your cheek is against his forearm. you picture those same muscles flexing while he pins your wrists above your head, or while one big hand covers your mouth to keep you quiet. max notices the way your breathing changes and gives your face a little squeeze between his fingers, voice dropping. “what are you thinking about right now, hm?”
you’ve started playfully biting his forearm when you’re feeling bold, teeth sinking in just enough to make him hiss through his teeth. max’s eyes darken instantly.he flexes hard under your bite and mutters, “careful, sweetheart. keep that up and I’ll give you something bigger to sink your teeth into.”
he gets off on how small your hands look when you try to wrap them around his forearm. he’ll guide your fingers over his muscles and ask if you’re imagining them holding you down or spreading you open
max has a thing for making you admit how much you love his arms. he’ll have you straddle his thigh, one hand gripping the back of your neck, and won’t let you move until you tell him exactly what you want those hands to do to you
MASTERLIST
taglist: @userhotd @marlsvii @casey1-2007 @moonlightbookworm @sluttyall4youdada @gabbiskylar01 @long-summer-nights ( let me know if you wanna be added or removed 🤍 )
can you write bluecollar!rafe coming home from work and being stressed and fucks reader rough in bed then spitting in readers mouths
bmobmbi ─ r.c.
warnings ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ : spit kink , p in v ( doggy ) , degradation , spanking ( js once ) , language , rough sex
when bluecollar!rafe gets mad, just kno you're getting put thru da mattress. . .
if it were any other day, you would've scolded rafe for getting his dirty work clothes on your bed, but the thought fails to cross your mind when he's telling you to: 'fix that fuckin' arch,' with a stinging slap to your ass.
the sensation sends waves of heat throughout your body, forcing you to deepen your arch and push your ass towards him.
the denim of his jeans and his thick leather belt graze your skin with each punishing thrust you receive.
your husband's grunts and moans are concealed by the t-shirt he bites on. even when you whine that you want to hear him, he just grunts harder because, at the moment, he couldn't care less about what you want. all he cares about right now is watching the way your pussy soaks n' swallows his dick.
"sick of your whinin'", he grits, pushing your head deeper into your pillow. you moan louder into the fluffy fabric.
your cunt squelches louder around him as his relentless pounding causes more cream to froth around his base.
the man raises an eyebrow. "you like this shit, huh?" his mocking makes you wetter as you nod pitifully, unable to be anything but honest.
"yeahhhh, know you do," your husband chuckles darkly, leaning forward to look at your face, and boy, it's a sight!
your eyes are glazed and dazed with lust, with pupils that roll back with each hefty knock to your cervix. jaw and maw are slack as you let out those cute, pitchy moans when he tugs your hair.
he takes that opportunity to land a wad of spit on your lolling tongue, laughing once again at your fucked out expression. . .
but hey, this was the best kind of sex, so no complaints here!
18+ Big scary men who let you slap them during sex.
He’s massive beneath you — broad chest, thick arms, powerful thighs that could easily pin you down if he wanted. But right now he’s on his back, letting you ride him however you want. His hands rest on your hips, not guiding, just holding you steady as you sink down on him.
You lean forward, bracing one hand on his chest, and bring the other down hard across his cheek. The sound is sharp. His head snaps to the side with the force of it. A low, guttural groan rumbles out of his chest as he twitches hard inside you. “Fuck… do it again,” he rasps, voice wrecked.
You slap him again, harder this time, watching the way his eyes flutter and his jaw clenches. His hips buck up sharply, driving deeper into you. The sting on his cheek blooms red against his flushed skin, but he doesn’t stop you. If anything, he looks drunk on it. “Harder, baby,” he begs, voice hoarse. “I can take it.”
You ride him faster, grinding down on him while you slap him again and again. Each hit makes him groan louder, his grip on your hips tightening as he lets you use him. His eyes stay locked on yours the whole time, dark and hazy with lust.
When you finally come, clenching hard around him, you slap him one last time, right as your orgasm hits. That’s what breaks him. He groans deep and filthy, hips stuttering as he spills inside you, thick and hot, pulsing with every slap you land.
Afterward, he’s breathing hard, cheek bright red, but he pulls you down against his chest and kisses you soft and attentively. His hand strokes your back gently, almost apologetically, like he’s the one who should be sorry.
“Again next time?” he murmurs against your lips, voice still rough.
You smile and kiss the reddened mark on his cheek.
synopsis. 𓂅 in the midst of your argument, you uttered the unthinkable.
disclaimers. dark fanfic, domestic violence, abusive relationship, rafe slapping reader, toxic!rafe, dark!rafe, aggressive face grabbing, soft core fear play
“you wanna leave me?” rafe inquired, his brows pulled into a deep scowl that carved shadows across his face. your cheek burning from the slap he gave you. you wiped at your tear streaked cheeks, fingers trembling against your skin. “no, no, no,” you assured him quickly, voice cracking.
“don’t fucking lie to me,” he growled, snatching your face in his hand so hard his fingers dug into your jaw like iron clamps. he forced your gaze up to his with his grip, his eyes burning through yours with that dark mix of rage and possession. he scoffed, low and bitter, unbelieving that you had actually dared to say those words. that you thought you could just walk away from him.
his grip tightened, thumb pressing into your cheek until you winced. “after everything i’ve done for you? after i kept you safe, gave you everything?” his voice dropped into a whisper, breath hot against your lips. “you think you get to decide when this ends? oh no, baby. you’re mine. you don’t leave unless i say so.”
tears spilled fresh over your lashes as you tried to pull back, but he only yanked you closer, slamming your body against his chest. his free hand slid down your waist, harsh and bruising, pinning you in place. “say it again,” he demanded, lips curling into a cruel smirk. “tell me you wanna leave. i fucking dare you.”
you shook your head frantically, the fear twisting in your gut like a knife. but rafe wasn’t done. he never was. with a rough shove, he backed you up until your spine hit the wall, caging you there with his taller frame. his hand left your face only to wrap around your throat, not squeezing yet, but the threat was there, heavy in the air between you.
“good girl,” he murmured when you stayed silent, though his eyes still flickered with that unhinged glint. “keep lying to yourself if you want. but we both know the truth. you’re not going anywhere.” he said. he leaned in, brushing his mouth against yours in a kiss that felt more like a brand than affection. his teeth grazing your lip hard enough to draw a small whimper from you.
- thinking about michael finally coming home from his shift and you just missed him so much
michael afton x (afab)reader
cw: nsfw! basically all smut, grinding/dry humping, slight dirty talk, marking, fingering, cunninglingus, overstim, he’s extremely handsy, softdom!michael, sub!reader, he’s also just so caring SSHSJSKKD
*can be considered movie or game michael (whatever you like, i wrote this to fit both tbh) (but it may be slightly ooc)
wc: 2.6k
…
a/n: hi!! this is actually my first time uploading on here, as well as my first time ever posting fanfiction. i ask that you all please be kind, but don’t be afraid to give me tips or recommendations! 🤧 i’m really excited to start posting more fics and i hope you all enjoy! <3
…
you heard the front door creak open as the sun started creeping in the room from the cracks between the curtains. you turned in bed to glance at the clock on the nightstand reading 6:37 AM. michael must’ve just gotten home from work.
the sound of boots being shuffled off was heard past the bedroom door, and keys being tossed on the hook. the soft thuds of footsteps coming towards your shared room increased in volume as michael tried his best to not wake you.
it never worked, though. you were always awake and waiting for him anyways.
with eyes still heavy with sleep, you slowly blinked up at the door knob turning ever so quietly as michael stepped into the room.
“hey.” you quietly greeted, muffled by the thick duvet.
“i’m sorry, darling, did i wake you?” michael whispered back, walking over to your side of the bed.
to be quite honest, you haven’t really gotten much sleep since he left for his shift earlier that night, more so missing the warmth from him next to you in bed.
“not really… i haven’t slept much.” you confess, sitting up a little as michael brushed a few strands away from your face. then, moving his hand down to caress your cheek and jaw.
“i’m sorry, i know these hours are hard, but you know i’ll make it up to you somehow.” he said softly.
you peered up to look at his eyes, the blueness of them sparkling so beautifully in the early morning rays of the sun. he was always so gentle with you, so perfect.
he walked over to his side of the bed, unclipping his badge and name tag, then placing both on his nightstand next to him.
“i just missed you so much, michael.” you spoke, scooting closer to him on the bed as he started undoing his tie.
oh.
he caught a glimmer of something in your eye as you said that, diminishing any sort of exhaustion in his body from his shift.
he quirked his brow at your words and hummed in response, the sun creeping in more to cast golden streaks along your face.
beautiful. he thought.
“…how much?” michael asked innocently, but deep down he needed to know how you missed him.
“i just, i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” you murmur, looking away, embarrassed at your blushing state.
michael turned and softly grabbed your chin, guiding your face to look back at him.
“thinking about me, how?” he questioned, not bothering to even try to hide the grin on his face.
he caught you.
words clearly weren’t on your side today, so you did the next best thing to show him. you glanced down to look at his lips and leaned in, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.
“that’s all?” he asked, feigning surprise, knowing you weren’t only thinking about kissing him.
as he shuffled closer to you, leaning back a little and letting his legs spread out in front of him, his eyes bore through your skull, dark with something that had your heart rate rapidly increasing.
“because, i had something a little bit different on my mind.” michael reveals, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, his head leaning back against the headrest of the bed, his knees bending to hold you against your back.
you braced your hands on his chest as he held you firmly in place, straddling him, pressed against him.
“you know, I think about you a lot while at work.” michael says, rubbing his hands soothingly along the sides of your waist.
“it gets so boring there at night, knowing you’re all alone in bed, without me.”
his hands creep down further, laying in the spot where your thighs and hips meet, his thumb outlining the crease there, making you shudder.
his hands move ever so slightly to start to grip harder on the curve of your hips, palms pressed against the sides of your ass.
“i start to wonder what you must be doing by yourself, while i’m not there to satisfy you.”
you move a little, trying to rock your hips, craving any sort of friction against him.
“i get so worked up, y’know?” michael tilts his head up to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning hot against your neck.
he starts peppering kisses along your neck, stopping to suck lightly on that spot that has you gasping. you crane your head to the side, allowing him to have more room to mark you.
“michael, please.” you whimper, his mouth continuing to lick and suck on your neck. his grip still iron against your hips, squeezing slightly every so often.
“please what? you have to use your words, darling.” michael taunts, the grip on your hips loosening as he starts running his hands under your shirt, fingers splayed against your lower stomach, his touch burning against your bare skin.
your hands fly to his collar, starting to undo the buttons down his shirt, earning an amused snicker from him.
“impatient, are we?” michael retracts his fingers from under your shirt and catches both your hands, stopping you in your tracks as he leans in to kiss you again.
he kisses you harder this time, with a little more fervor. you return with that same hunger, deepening the kiss as his hand comes to grip the nape of your neck. his other hand returning to your bare waist, his thumb rubbing lazy circles there.
you arch into his touch, grinding down harder. the movement of your hips elicits a small groan from him and the sound is intoxicating.
you continue rolling your hips as michael’s tongue darts out into your mouth, knocking the air out of your lungs.
you can’t help but mewl in the kiss at the feeling of rubbing yourself on michael, and he whimpers in response, his fingers dancing further up your stomach and ghosting underneath the outline of your bare breasts.
“please- michael, i need more.” you whine out, gasping for air.
next thing you know, your shirt is lifted above your head, discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re flipped onto your back, michael looming overhead, his knees pressing down in the bed on either side of your legs, caging you in.
you start to try and unbutton his shirt again, fingers shaking desperately as he starts kissing from the corner of your mouth down to your neck.
you finally get the last button undone as he takes a moment to shimmy out of the confining dress shirt, leaning back down to continue kissing around your collarbones, sucking rather harshly at one spot to leave a mark.
you suck in a harsh breath of air as his fingers come up to trace around the swell of your breasts while his mouth reaches further down.
he cups your right breast, fitting easily in the palm of his hand, and massages gently as his tongue starts to trace a line down your cleavage. you shudder at the feeling and arch your back, trying to get even closer to his touch.
he then rolls your right nipple between his fingers, while his tongue goes to lap at the other neglected one, earning a guttural moan from you, and you feel his mouth curve into a smile at the reaction.
he continues his assault on your chest and sucks harshly on the left bud, making you let out a surprised gasp as your fingers tangle in his brown hair.
he switches his mouth over to your right nipple as his hand goes to play with the left one, repeating the same tortuous motions.
it’s all so overwhelming and you feel yourself growing hot at your core watching his muscles flex as he holds himself up by one arm.
“mph- michael, please, i can’t.” you cry out in slight overstimulation from his endless sucking at your chest.
“shh, yes you can.” michael soothes you as he starts to kiss down further, making eye contact with you the whole way down your stomach, your heart rate not getting any slower, and your body getting set ablaze from his stare.
he positions himself between your legs and rubs his hands along the sides of your waist and hips, dipping his fingers teasingly into the waistband of your shorts, only to pull them out again and trace his fingers along the hem.
you’re a stuttering mess as you try to hold back your whimpers and pleas, begging him to touch you.
“touch me, please.” you plead out desperately, throwing your head back to hide your face, cheeks hot from the position you’re in right now.
“you see how easy it is to simply use your words.” michael responds, thumbs rubbing where your waistband meets your skin.
he slides his fingers to hook around the waistband of your shorts and slowly pulls them down your legs, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin, each touch sending electric jolts to your core.
once he tosses your shorts to the floor, he makes his way back up your legs, kissing all the way up at a tortuously slow pace, driving you insane.
when he finally reached your thighs, he nudged your legs apart with his hands as he started to suck and kiss along the inside of your thighs, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most.
you felt his breath fan across your underwear as he observed just how much you missed him.
“beautiful.” he whispered, reaching a tentative finger out to leave a featherlike touch to the dampened spot in your underwear.
you cried out at the small touch, proving just how sensitive, yet needy, he’s gotten you.
michael then slid both his hands up the sides of your thighs, hooking his index finger and thumb around the thin waistband of your underwear, revealing all of yourself to him.
“so beautiful.” he repeated, groaning to himself as he took in the view of you laid out underneath him, the sunrise casting a golden hue over every curve and crease of your body, which had him saying a silent prayer to himself in his head.
you were so perfect like this, perfect for him.
he wasted no time, grabbing your legs and hoisting them over his shoulder to gain better access as he leaned down.
he placed a kiss just above your clit before he licked a long stripe through your folds, making you grip the sheets with one hand and tug on his hair with the other.
he licked slowly from your hole to just below your clit, making you writhe in the sheets while his hands came to hold you down by your hips.
you looked down at him through lidded eyes as he stared up at you, his eyes sparkling, but his gaze piercing.
he used this as the opportunity to flick his tongue against your clit, pulling a high-pitched moan out of you.
your body twitched as he started relentlessly flicking his tongue over the bud, tears stinging the corner of your eyes as you could no longer control the endless whimpers from your lips.
he then sucked, long and hard, on your clit making your legs involuntarily close as you nearly screamed.
he groaned, sending vibrations through your core as he removed his hands from holding down your hips to yank your thighs away from crushing his head, his palms pressing your thighs down onto the bed as he sucked and licked like a man starved.
“michael-ohmygod-please don’t stop.” you screamed out, tears sliding down your cheeks in pure bliss.
he sucked even faster, even harder, as he felt your hips stuttering and your moans getting higher, knowing you were getting close.
the knot in your stomach was so close to untying as his tongue alternated from flicking to sucking.
your back arched up off the bed and just as you were about to teeter off the edge, michael slowed his movements down completely, coming to a devastating halt.
“wha- why, michael please.” you whined out in protest, looking down at him, eyes glossed over.
just as you were about to protest further, he took one hand off your leg and started rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb.
“remember to be patient, darling.” michael laughed, increasing the speed of his thumb on your clit.
you cried out, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets so hard, and michael whimpered as you tugged harder on his hair.
his thumb stopped as his middle finger prodded at your entrance, swiping it through your fold to collect the wetness there before easily slipping into you.
you let out a broken sob at the sudden intrusion, as michael’s mouth returned on your clit.
he started to thrust in and out of you, increasing the speed as you leaked all over his hand.
he took this as a sign to add another finger, his middle and ring finger now knuckles deep in you as he relentlessly curled them inside you, reaching the spot that had you thrashing in his grip.
tears were now streaming down your cheeks as you choked on your own sobs of pleasure.
the combination of his fingers hitting you so deep inside, and his tongue flicking and sucking on your clit had you nearing that peak again.
“michael ‘m so close.” you bawled, thighs beginning to shake from the stimulation.
michael removed his mouth for a second to watch as your hole greedily sucked in his fingers so easily.
“look at you, taking me so well.” michael purred, thrusting his fingers even faster, feeling you start to clench around them.
he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking brutally as his fingers continued to hit that spot over and over.
you moaned out incoherent pleas as your hand in his hair shoved his head down even more, grinding against his tongue.
he hummed at the action, the vibrations on your clit sending you over the edge as your body stilled and your mouth fell open, his fingers never slowing down to coax you through your orgasm as you clenched around his fingers.
you wailed out as you came hard on his fingers, his tongue incessantly flicking at your clit, prolonging the shockwaves of pleasure as your body spasmed.
even as your body stopped shaking and your breathing slowed, michael didn’t even stop, mouth sucking hard and fingers continuing to thrust in and out to ride out your orgasm.
“michael, ah it’s too much-mpfh!” you cried out in overstimulation, legs threatening to close again.
but he still didn’t stop, and you felt the knot in your stomach rekindling as he scissored his fingers in and out your hole, and his tongue started tracing circles over your clit.
the overstimulation paired with the view of him so determined on making you come again had you seeing stars, his biceps straining as his hand fought to continue holding you in place.
before you knew it, you were coming again, harder this time, vision turning white.
your back arched up, moans falling out of your mouth as you twitched around his fingers for the second time.
michael then started to slow down his movements, riding you through each aftershock, before removing his mouth completely, and sliding his fingers out.
you watched as he scooted back, his cheek resting against your thigh as he gasped for air, both of you trying to catch your breath.
you leaned to sit up on your forearms, your legs still feeling like jelly.
the morning sun was fully up now, lighting up the room, as you turned to see the alarm clock now reading 8:06 AM.
michael grinned, “did that show you how much i missed you too?”
• he’s not really soft with anyone else..but with you? it just kinda happens. like one day he’s all sharp and serious, and the next he’s got his hand on your waist without even thinking about it
• he acts like he doesn’t need you but he’s always around you. like if you leave a room he’s noticing within seconds, and immediately looking for you.
• he loves when you play with his hair. won’t ask for it, obviously, but the second you start? he goes quiet, leans into it, eyes half closed, ready to fall into the deepest sleep of his life
• gets so jealous, but he’s not loud about it. his jaw just clenches, arm wrapping around you a little more possessive, thumb tracing your side like a silent “you’re mine”
• in the beginning of your relationship, he remembers small things about you and pretends he doesn’t. your favorite starbucks drink just “happens” to show up. the song you mentioned once is suddenly playing in the car, already added into the playlist he made for you.
• if you’re upset? he doesn’t always know what to say, but he’ll sit with you. pull you into him. let you hide in his chest while his hand rubs your back slow and steady, trying to make you feel better in any way he can
• he gets so soft when you’re sleepy. like he’ll literally just stare at you, brushing your hair back, mumbling “you’re so cute it pisses me off”
• always pulling you into him, especially at night, like he sleeps better when you’re there (he literally does)
• lowkey very protective but tries not to be obvious about it
“text me when you get home.”
“who the fuck was that?”
“you good?”
• he likes when you wear his clothes more than he’ll ever admit. just stares for a second like his brain stopped working. next thing you know he keeps the hoodie of his you like the most with him at all times.
• arguments with him can be so messy, but he always comes back. always. quieter, softer, like “c’mere” is his version of an apology
• he starts smiling more around you. like actual, real smiles. very small at first, then the kind he tries to hide by looking away or shaking his head like you did something to him
• he loves quiet moments with you. no parties, no noise, just the two of you laying together, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm while he listens to you talk all about your day
• he gives the softest forehead kisses when he thinks you’re not paying attention. like passing by you, hand on your cheek for a second, lips pressed to your forehead before he pulls away like it didn’t just mean everything
• if you fall asleep on him, he won’t move the tiniest bit. doesn’t matter if his arm goes completely numb, he’s staying right there, watching you, adjusting things so you’re more comfortable without waking you
• he starts doing this thing where he rests his head against yours. not even saying anything, just leaning into you like he needs that contact
• he keeps little things that remind him of you. a hair tie on his wrist, a hoodie you left behind, random stuff that shouldn’t matter but does
• he gets soft when you laugh. like he’ll just stop for a second and look at you, a little distracted, like that sound alone is enough to mess him up
• he doesn’t say “i love you” in big ways at first, but it shows up in everything
“did you eat?”
“you cold?”
“c’mere.”
• eventually when he gets past that, he can’t stop, whether you’re going to the mall with your friends, going grocery shopping, or even heading to gym, he’ll always send a “i love you” your way
• when you’re having a bad day, he’ll pull you into his lap or into his chest and just hold you there, one hand in your hair, the other rubbing your back, letting you take as long as you need
• he falls asleep easier when you’re there, but what he won’t admit is that he actually sleeps deeper too—like for once in his life he feels safe enough to fully rest
WARNINGS ° ‧ . ‧ piv. language. riding. slightly mean rafe if you squint. 521 words. ꒰ mdni `` 18+ content ꒱ ۪ ݁
riding rafe so slow cause it’s such a big task, his hands clutching at you like a lifeline. his head leaned back against the brown wood of his headboard, a pillow shoved in the crack to soften the thumps against the wall. heavy eyes locked on the slow grind of your body, a sight he’s enamoured with.
however, in this current moment? he’s not impressed—you’re fucking with his release. he sucks in a sharp breath, patience running thin, but he doesn’t stop you. letting you go at the speed you want for now. it’s a struggle though, your gummy walls massaging his throbbing cock. your whines reaching his ears sounding like a dog in heat, like it’s your first time all over again.
the stretch has you seeing stars, fingers pressing into his abdomen for leverage. your head lolled and your eyes closed, clearly off in your own world of pleasure. rafe drags a large hand up your side to your face, calloused pads digging into your jaw. he uses the firm grip to direct your face back towards him, the stern action making your eyes fly open. “pay attention,” he mutters, hips shifting up under you, driving his cock deeper. your body instantly reacts by clamping down around him, keeping him snug in your warmth.
“i-i am,” you practically croon, fingers pressing down harder as your hips rock a little faster. the coarse, trimmed hair he always sports brushes against your aching clit, the contact sending a flare through your body. one of your manicured hands flies to grip the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the tufts of hair at the base.
your lower lash line coated in unshed tears from your onslaught of edging. he knows you’re struggling to find the right rhythm, to fuck yourself properly on his thick length—he simply is unwilling to help though. no matter how badly he wants to flip you over and take you the way he wants.
“you talked big game earlier, now you don’t know how to fuckin’ ride dick?” he hums from under you, the teasing lilt hard to miss. even in your rumpled mind. rafe bucks up again, the motion sending you bouncing slightly, your grip tightening as you cling to him. your thighs are already burning from the exertion, back and forth. . .back and forth, a repetitive action. “c’mon, baby, ride me like you mean it. show me how pretty you look on top, taking what you want.”
your pussy gushes around him, your arousal coating his balls in a sticky, wet mess. you tug sharply at his hair, making the man under you wince, his fingers pinching roughly at your hip. “don’t be mean, rafe.”
he just grunts at you, fingers clenching around your hips as he forces you to bounce harder. the sound of your ass colliding with the tops of his thighs going straight to your gut, walls pulsing around him. “‘m not mean, you’re just whiny,” he gruffs, biceps tensing as he uses you like a personal fuck doll—no longer interested in your slow pace. “now shut up and help me cum.”
•touchy. constantly. hand on your lower back guiding you through crowds, fingers brushing yours, fixing your hair for no reason. it’s all small, but it adds up.
•at parties he refuses to let you out his sight. he never lets you get too drunk and if you somehow manage to he’s grabbing you and pulling you into his truck and taking you home while giving you the silent treatment. (hmm i wonder why..)
•he acts like an asshole when people are suspicious that you guys aren’t just friends. he’ll immediately shut it down. (there’s no logic behind it. he’s always been obsessed with you.)
•he makes you give him at home fashion shows when you buy new lingerie because you’re oblivious at the fact that it turns him on.
•bsf! rafe who always goes through your phone. he just wants to know what you do when he’s not there or what you post on your secret accounts you think he doesn’t know about.
•bsf! rafe who has to jerk off when you send him a daily selfie of whatever your up to that day.
•he makes you come golfing with him even though you don’t do anything. he just likes your presence there with him.
you’ll need some crosses for this one- bsf! rafe and bsf! reader who fool around:
•it starts by you ovulating and flirting with him just a little too much to be playful.
•he starts to take this as a sign to start being a little more bold with you till eventually he has you riding his thigh so desperate for attention. it then starts becoming a regular thing.
•he has a tracker on his phone that tracks when your ovulating because he gets so excited thinking about the next time you’ll need him.
•bsf! rafe who always manipulates you into letting him touch and kiss you. “best friends make each other feel better, right?”
a/n: hey guys! tell me what you think about this one as i’m thinking about making for fics for it. :3 navigation
you were cuddled up against rafe in the bed you both shared, his warm skin pressing against yours as his arms wrapped around your barely clothed body.
his fingers drawing lazy patterns into the exposed skin between your tiny tank top and the little pair of grey panties you had on.
rafe's steady breathing matched your own and you could feel his rock hard cock pressing against you through his boxer shorts.
your leg was wrapped loosely around his waist, so when you shifted to try and get more comfortable, your cunt unintentionally rubbed against his bulge.
a soft sound of pleasure left your lips and your eyes flickered open groggily, sleep threatening to pull you back under any second.
your hips automatically rolled lazily against rafe's, his length rubbing against you in the most delicious way.
his fingers pressed against your skin harshly, and although his eyes stayed closed, you could see the ghost of a smirk on his face.
"tryna kill a man in his sleep, hmm?" he murmured, burying his face into your neck and pressing soft kisses against it, savouring the taste of your skin.
your breathing quickly turned ragged as he bumped against your clothed clit, your arousal soaking through the thin material.
"raaafe" you whined, still hazy from the nap the two of you had taken.
he wasted no time in pulling your panties down, his thumb spreading the folds of your sopping pussy apart, "c'mon angel, time to wake up for me"
warnings ૮․ ․ ྀིა : language , mild nsfw ( face slapping , unprotected p in v )
rafe cameron liked eye contact.
like the two of you only began dating after you confronted rafe for staring you down at a party. in your defense, his gaze was burning into you like he was staking a claim.
stomping over and confronting him with a sharp "what do you want?" eyebrows furrowing when he only chuckles and smirks.
"can't look at a pretty girl anymore," you grimace at his corny attempt at a compliment.
if you're arguing, rafe's gently grabbing your forearm and pulling you towards him.
"m'talkin to you, don't walk away from me."
"well i don't wanna hear it," you spit angrily, looking anywhere else but him.
a big hand takes your jaw, tilting it to look him in the eye. "you look at me when i talk to you, alright," and you'd fold every time.
and during sex, eye contact was a given.
you close your a few moments? turn your head away? not happening.
'cause rafe's lightly slapping your cheek, instantly grabbing your attention.
"w—what was that for?" you sputter, gasping at the small sting.
"look at me when i fuck you,"he grits out, hips slamming harder into yours, forcing thick cock deeper into your pulsing heat.
and when you do, you don't take your eyes off him for the rest of the night because eye contact was key to your relationship.
corruption kink is so fun but reverse corruption!!!! reader showing dex how to be rough with her.
i hate when people beat me to nasty thoughts literally u da birthday.
especially because like... how much sex do u guys think dex has had forreal. like we saw him trying to flirt with julie, he's a romantically stunted freak, i don't even think he was watching porn or anything. most of the time, you take the lead, you talk him through everything, and he whimpers and nods along. he likes the dynamic for so long before he starts to feel like you want more.
he presses his lips to your neck without you having to guide him there, he bites down gently, you moaned one time when he did it and so he never stops doing it now. "show me what you like... please?" you have half a mind to play it safe, to not scare the guy that's never done anything crazier than accidentally tugging your hair during a blowjob. he goes red when you ask him to choke you, terrified of the damage he could do, you have to put his hand on your neck and press your fingers against his. "like this, it doesn't hurt, dex." you don't miss the way his eyes darken at the sight, though, you ride him just like that, his hand squeezing your throat, his eyes glazed over as always.
he was always vocal, even more so now "this is what you like? you wanna be roughed up, baby?" his voice breaks a little, like the words shock even him. "you look so fucking beautiful like this... i need you to show me what else you want. whatever you want."
Submissive, but in the way a guard dog is submissive. If you could sum up your relationship with Dex, that might as well be it.
It's not that he means to come off like a muzzled pitbull while the two of you shop together. Or that he means to scare the poor teenage cashier when he miscounts some of your change.
When you ask him about the terrified cashier, he feigns ignorance, "Sometimes people just get scared...Look at the city we live in." He doesn't verbalize the last part, but it's clear. And if anyone did anything to scare you, he'd put a bullet through the middle of their skull. Even if it was him. Especially if it was him.
All it takes is a naive grin from you to reel him back in. As soon as you're back home, and there's no dishes in the sink, and no mess to clean up. He's only settled when a controlled environment is established, with you at its center.
He'll tentatively relax in your arms with a hesitant raise of his hands to cradle you back. Breathe you in. He always closes his eyes when he has you like this. All to himself. Where no one can hurt either of you. The way it should be. You quiet the noise until all he can hear is the soft sound of your heartbeat.
But the noise you quiet in his mind is never fully silenced. Not when he knows someone out there could take you from him. Not when there's someone out there that could hurt you. Scare you. Even just...annoy you. Strip his peace away with you.
He fantasizes about what he would do to that poor, excuse of a person. How he could take that annoying cashier that inconvenienced you out back and watch his blood paint the brick wall.
He finally reopens his eyes with a small, twitchy smile on his lips. He might as well keep watch. You can rest, he's got this. It's his job.
You'll start to realize...lately, every time you sit down with Dex at a diner, mindlessly reciting menu options, he's staring at the waiter just a little too hard. And counting the number of knives on the table. Just incase.
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