patrick stump x fem!reader somno where you both are having a wet dream
please
- A little less melatonin, a little more 'touch me'
Pairing: Patrick Stump x F! Reader
cw: Weird wet dream, very soft somno, p in v, no protection, i dont know how to write sex well im a stupid virgin chud :(, riding, sleepy sex, idiots in love. Yeah the title is inspired by ALLS, ALMTM... hehehehehe
word count: more than 2k
Two bodies lay in bed, completely passed out. You spent most of your days in a rush, stressing over tests and running errands as normal adults should. But being a young adult sucks. Time felt slower 3 years ago when you were immature, but much happier. Depending on melatonin and "sleeping gummies" to find some calm at night wasn't healthy, but hard times required some help because going to therapy just made you realize you're going insane, and the constant thought of “What if I…” felt like a sleep paralysis demon. The only time of the day that seemed that your mind was a little more silent was at night, dumping the shit of a day you had over your boyfriend, Patrick.
Nights with him were like time-traveling to times when "lovers" was a word that did not fit that relationship (or the age you both were). Still, the blushes that crept up their cheeks after hugging obviously made it clear, so the love declaration felt natural and totally expected, still awkward, but that was just a part of their personalities. His presence was always comforting to you, a sweet balm to your heart, laughing at the misery and sweetening it with a "Could have been worse.”
But it was becoming tiring, same routine, I'm home! How was your day? Bad as always, my boss… blah blah blah, then getting into bed, laughing at whatever shit played on TV, kissing goodnight, and 5 hours of denial trying to fall asleep. He wasn't tiring you, of course not! It was just the routine of playing the role of a boring secretary that made you sick in the stomach, too dizzying, too much.
The moon seemed too shiny, clothes too cold, stomach growled like kittens scratching against the muscle ¡Feed me, meow! Too late. Counting lambs could do it, an old trick that could help since seeing Patrick sound asleep next to you made you feel like a mother taking care of her children, at the same time, she couldn't sleep because of her energy had been drained out like the milk that came from her body to feed his son, if you think really hard it doesn't sound too fictional or crazy, doesn't it? You felt drained, too. So you did.
There it was, one lamb, two…then three, and why was the fence so short that even those fat and furry lambs could jump over it? What a naive farmer, or what if you were the farmer letting them escape? Like those opportunities you missed just because the salary was “too low,” well, God forbid a woman wants some money for herself too!! Stupid managers thought 20 dollars for the day was enough? Who the fuck lives on 20 dollars a day?? Now shut the fuck up, brain, and try to sleep!. Four lambs… Five… lambs...
When did you become so conscious of this? Of course, you were asleep, but this was… too good to wake up?...
What a realistic shit this was, a virtual simulation in a dream of stimulation. Your core being impaled by your boyfriend’s cock, damn you missed it, he was being rough with it, unlike his usual pace, because he usually made you take it slowly, still his hips stuttered like a rabbit in heat trying to go faster. Wait, he kinda looks like one on a daily basis. Your breasts bounced furiously at his pistoning, ouch that hurts! Have some mercy on my tits! Anyways, it felt so good you could feel how those involuntary juices stained your panties. You were, indeed, sex starved. Sadly, you couldn't hear a sound of this spectacular show your mind had decided to show you like a late-night special, but you could only imagine how he would growl and then- huh? already came? and… What the fuck is that?!
Why is milk spurting out of my tits?!
You woke up, terrified, like it had been the worst nightmare you've ever had (it kinda was). What a bad ending. Honestly, you would leave a bad review of your brain. Blame the stress for the shit of an ending. Was it because of the correlation you made with him being your son and the milk and all of that?
Coming back to reality, brain foggy, ¡Good job! You finally felt a sense of sleepiness. Deep breaths as you tried to forget that nasty image, you were on the pill, so phew! No milk for now!
Now, really looking to the front, you saw Patrick, sleeping, you assumed. quiet but still deep breaths left from in between his lips, escaping. How cute, he must have been so tired.
You thought that was the reason, but it was not.
A few seconds fly by as you admire how his mouth is parted to keep breathing, a natural reflex to survive, but your senses had totally ignored the soft movement of his hips against your clothed core.
And those were not relaxed breaths, they were pleasured sighs. And what a convenient position you were in. Your leg propped over his hip, initially with no other intention more than comfort and closeness, but it was easy for a sleepy, dreamy little head, to take advantage of. His brows were furrowed, like he was in discomfort.
To be or not to be? To wake him up or not? We’ll see
Your own head felt light from the lack of rest, also getting carried away by that starvation you didn't know you were feeling before that dream, your hips started swaying forward, meeting his own grinding, taking so much advantage of that position to grind down right onto his hardening cock, just where you felt the damp patch in your underwear cling onto your pussy. Each grind made you get a little more needy... and also tired, but it felt heavenly and obviously the little demon on your shoulder won over the angel that told you to go back to sleep. The lazy movement of your hips and his was delightful; you just wanted to fully climb onto his lap and grind like a desperate bitch. You could do it; you would, but let's see how far he would go.
Your own hands tried to explore under the thin and worn-out cotton of your shirt, fingers lazily tracing your nipples. It didn't do the trick, then greedily grabbed his hand and placed it just where your hand was. Much better, his hands were warm and felt like hot metal burning against your skin, but they didn't have the grip you needed on them.
“C’mon… You're not that much of a heavy sleeper…” You whispered; it was embarrassing how lustful your voice was, quite impressed by your own actions. You didn't mean to interrupt his sleep, but you knew he maybe wanted this too, I mean, it had been weeks since you last “made love” not even sex, and his quiet whimpers were not as quiet as they should be.
Then came seconds of just grinding and rubbing yourself onto him like a sex toy, moaning quietly in his ear to maybe wake him up…And it worked!! He stirred softly, frowning at the sudden friction you were creating.
“Huh…Hey?... love what happens?...” He hesitated, looking up into your eyes as you pressed his back onto the mattress, a sign for consciousness, no more dubious consent. “Babe…huh- sorry, were you having any dreams right now?Like, before you woke up?...” Hips rolling down onto his lap, feeling how hard he was. His hands faintly grabbed your hips, digging lightly to encourage you, consensually.
“Umm... yeah… did I do something dirty while asleep? Ow he looked so confused in the soft moonlight that illuminated his cheeks like soft caresses by angels themselves, or by the angels that had just escaped from your shoulder, quitting the job of guiding your lustful soul into being a pure human being.
“I'm very sorry f'this…Can we?” And it was that question that broke him. You were both so connected that you both had a wet dream at the same time! How cute! His poor eyes were already glassy in excitement,his head nodded quickly as he tried to sit up to get comfortable.
“I– I was dreaming of making out…How crazy… S-so yeah, lets do this, mhm…” He giggled ever so sweetly, that giggle that sounded so pure and so familiar. Your hands found his jawline, bringing yourself closer to him. The chuckles were inevitable, noses touching. “This is so dumb-... You know I don't usually wake up like this…” You stated, still trying to reach a good spot to grind on, Patrick just helped you in the movement, hands sliding to your ass cautiously to get a better grip, which made you rub harder. His head wiggled slightly against the pillows, moans mixed with laughs, I guess that's why you never had sex and always made love; You both love each other so much that this wasn't as filthy as it should be, this felt like a deep connection.
Your hands dropped from his cheeks and followed their way down his torso, feeling his chest rise and fall, his heart beat creating vibrations under your digits. The eye contact felt funny, but still intimate, his blonde locks were messy, bed hair, and his eyes were still daring to close. But there was no way he was falling asleep away, not before having you, so slumbering could wait.
Hands going lower, tracing his tummy, soft and slightly plush. Then it reached his pajama pants - The Batman ones’ he loved- and you softly slid them down, revealing the throbbing ache in his erection, already sticky and slightly musky, a scent that wasn't necessary because he was dirty or something, it was just him, a fragrance so familiar like dozing off to sleep after going to the pool when you were teens, that sweet aroma of skin. His hands slid up, trying to free you from your shorts and underwear, you helped him, lifting your hips and bracing his hips between your thighs, sloppy removal of the garments until you remained in just your old band shirt that you had overexploited as a teen, now as thin as paper.
“Gotta’ make this a little quick, mhm? I have to go to work in what?... Three hours? I-im sorry, i know were not a fan of quickies-”
“It's fine…huh… I'll take whatever you can give me…” He whispered with such an obscene tone of vulnerability
Enough talking. Lips crashed once more, hands kneading your ass. Your core was just on top of his erection that stood proud against his stomach, you tried to grind down over the shaft, feeling the soft bulging of his veins tease your clit. Grabbing it with shaky hands you tried to guide the tip towards your fold, looking down at the obscene portrayal. Patrick grabbed your hips for it to fit.
You slid down so easily, you were soaked and Patrick’s hands made you slide it in whole in just a second, harshly bouncing your hips up and down as your already sore thighs were not making much movement to create movement, blame it on the late hours.
Moans and silly smiles invaded the room. Hands softly - As softly as he could because c’mon, he IS a sweetheart- smacked your ass, stimulating more friction and sudden clenches of your walls that made your back arch.
“Gh-... God… please…” He stuttered like prayers falling into a succubus’ ear. Your breasts softly bounced against his neck as you tried to hug him, arms around his neck, hitting a new spot that made your movements sloppy and the fusion of your bodies sticky. The heat coiled low, you felt the inner flesh of your thighs even weaker. “God…im gonna-” Not even finishing your sentence, you reached your high, fluids mixing with sweat, and following, the thick ropes of white that had painted your insides and were now leaking from your folds.
Both you and Patrick were now hugging each other tightly, arms braced against each other's backs, feeling how your breaths were more relaxed and steady. One tight embrace made Patrick’s cock slide out of your core, feeling the immediate emptiness evoked a small whine.
“Oh-... Sorry… Maybe we can do this more…umh…frecuenty? yeah?... This felt really, reaally, good. Well- It always does but-… Oh sorry, I sound so horny and perverted-” He muttered, his voice went to different tones as he talked, like he always did, he was so expressive. You just chuckled, it sounded pained though, you had lost the “habit” of making out since work started to kick you in the ass every time you tried to stand up, and well… you were not much of a gym person, so tiredness came quickly over the both.
“Wake me up when you have to go to work, I wanna clean you up… I kinda made a mess and I don't want you to be walking around sticky because of me. Sooo, you shake me up a little or turn the radio on, put on some boring football game and turn the volume as loud as you can. I-... really wanna make sure i make this up for you-”
“You don't have to make up for anything, Patrick. But maybe you can help me get ready, I enjoy you following me around the house like a puppy.”
His rambling was so cute, like he had too many things to say and not enough time to just vomit every thought out. You adored him, you desired to spend the rest of your life hearing his yapping. You desired this to never end.
“Oww not that again…” He scolded, a pout on his lips and a frown on his brows. How could someone be so beautiful?
“Sounds like barking t’me.” You mumbled against his cheek, the soft skin felt velvety, post-shave moisture. Yours lips pressed against his cheek as you rolled onto your side, left hand trying to blindly find your panties, and at that motion, Patrick pulled his pajama pants up again, feeling slightly disgusted by the sticky feeling that now rested against his crotch and thighs. When you finally found them, you slid them up your legs with one hand, squirming in bed to slide them higher. It felt humid and slimy too, but you were too sleepy to care.
Too sleepy that you didn't even notice when you both kissed goodnight and fell asleep clinging onto the other like a lifeline.
a/n:FIRST ANON YAYY IM SO HAPPY, Patrick's my muse so I was so excited to write this!!. Anyways, sorry if the smut part is kinda lame, I repeat, Im a virgin ahh loser, i've never even had a boyfriend nor any type of SEX. So yeah, this was really just my imagination trying to guess what sex is LOL. But i love writing smut and I love being a pervert heheh
