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#and sometimes you’ll just have to step away and look at it another day
sketchncanto · 1 year
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Can you show your drawing process? Your style is so amazing... I can't sketch to save my life... like simple fun ideas take weeks for me to do because I have to make them all intricate. From one striving Disney Storyboard artist (dream job) to another T_T
Thank you so much, appreciate you! 🥹
My drawing process is honestly a hot mess lol
I usually start out super rough to try to find the pose and size that I want. That part usually takes the longest bc I spend SO much time thinking of the vibe that I wanna convey, and I spend a bit of that time looking for references if I need em. After I get those things, I kinda just go crazy! As you can see, there’s a lot of tweaking involved and I usually redline myself after I’m done just to see if I can make things better (also bc I’m a damn perfectionist). And ta-da! ✨
Don’t be too hard on yourself! Scribbling and getting the ideas down is honestly the hardest part, but I’ve found that it helps to just be loose and free with your first sketches! Once you get those down, try to enjoy the process and knock it out. Done is better than perfect! And honestly, nothings perfect anyway. I always find something wrong with my art after I post 😂 it’s a learning journey!
This was probably way more than you asked for but— yeah here you go lol I hope this helped!
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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months
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Locker Room
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts
A/N: For @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge. I used prompts 43, 97, & 99. (I had so much fun challenging myself to do this all in one go. I set a timer and everything.)
After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.
Part Two // Simon's POV
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist
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Beneath your skin is an inferno.
It’s not the kind that blazes for another, or burns in tandem with a deep yearning. This is just seething anger and blunt frustration.
You’re ready to knock out some fucking teeth.
How dare he? Who the fuck does Lieutenant Riley think he is?
When you return reports to Captain Price, you point out all the inconsistences and errors. The lack of accountability and absolute carelessness has been scratching at you for ages, and this time you had enough. Usually Price shrugs, fixes whatever you’ve marked—to a degree—and then returns them without argument.
This time? Price took one look at them and told you to talk to Simon.
Not a problem. No issue at all. You and Lieutenant Riley have always been on good terms. Sometimes, it’s been more than good. You’ve caught him staring for far too long, or he stands a bit too close as if the two of you are a couple and not coworkers. And while you’ve internalized the fantasy, it’s not like you’ve ever acted on it.
But now you’re just irritated.
You handed over the files yesterday evening, and this morning you found them back on your desk. It’s not the turnaround but Lieutenant Riley’s audacity of placing those files back on your desk with a singular sticky note.
The reports are just fine, sweetheart.
Sweetheart. Sweetheart?
The other day you imagined what it might be like to have the burly, masked man call you a pet name, but this is just fucking condescending.
Your heels clack sharply against the linoleum floor. Perhaps it’s the rage in your face, because every person you meet on your rampage steps out of your way, their gaze averted. Rounding a corner, you exit through a side door and into one of the hangars. A few people glance up, frowning, but return to their job.
Sighing heavily, you approach the nearest person. “Where’s Lieutenant Riley?”
The young man—who looks right out recruitment—glances up. He swallows and peers over his shoulder as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. “Locker room, ma’am?”
“Thank you,” you reply sharply, turning on your heel and heading for another door leading to the communal gym.
“But—” he begins, stumbling to his feet as you charge on. “Ma’am! You can’t—”
The door slams shut behind you and you don’t look back.
This is one of several communal spaces. There are the usual training areas on base but there are also a few gyms for those that want to get a bit of extra work in. Every head turns toward you and many don’t look away. This one is just for the men, and you’re the odd duck.
And fuck it. You don’t care. You’re too fucking mad right now to think of anything else but giving Lieutenant Riley a piece of your goddamn mind.
With everything pumping in your veins, the reality of you storming toward the locker rooms hasn’t even dawned. Hasn’t clicked. Fury laces your every step, and even here, where you’re not supposed to be, the men in your path move as if they sense the rage.
When you burst through the door and meet a wall of steam, all the heat suddenly extinguishes. Glancing around, you’re met with wide-eyed stares and surprised expressions.
Keeping your gaze as upward as you can, you clear your throat. “Where is Lieutenant Riley?”
There is only silence. Maybe if you stare at the top of the lockers for long enough, you’ll somehow gather your courage again.
“I asked where Lieutenant—”
“I’m right here.”
You turn abruptly and freeze.
Lieutenant Simon Riley stands before you in nothing but a towel. It hangs low on his hips. Other than that, the bottom-half of his face is covered up by a black mask and his dog tags dangle from his neck. His hair is a wet, tussled mess, and his chest glistens with water like he just stepped out from the shower.
Simon simply stares at you for a moment as you stand in utter silence. His gaze, which is piercing and fierce, slides away to scan the room. He doesn’t have to say anything. The rest of the men in the room grab bags and clothes, rushing to exit through the door you just entered from.
When the last man leaves, Simon rolls his shoulders, straightening his spine. It makes him appear larger, more intimidating, and that one movement draws forth a heat in your belly. This isn’t anger. This is need.
“I know what you came here for,” he says, and it’s so casual a tone that the earlier rage comes rising up.
“I’m sure you do,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.
Simon says nothing. His dark eyes remain on you, unmoving and cold, yet pinning you to the spot as if you’ve been impaled by a spear.
“Are you going to apologize?”
“Why?” he asks automatically.
You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”
“You didn’t come here for an apology.”
You uncross your arms and hold them out in front of you, bent at the elbows. “The reports—”
“The reports are fine.”
You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in the air. “There are inconsistencies everywhere. I can’t submit them as they are.”
Simon rolls his neck and then strides forward. Instinct has you stepping back, moving away, but you bump into a row of lockers. He doesn’t stop until he’s leaning over you, one large hand pressing into the metal to the side of your head.
“You’re nitpicking,” he replies.
“About lazy writing?”
“Oh, love. I assure you. I’m thorough.” At that, Simon leans in, and your hands rise instinctually, pressing against his firm chest.
Simon’s gaze doesn’t drop from your face. His entire attention is on you and that heat is back, twisting in your stomach, stirring up a slickness between your legs.
“Lieutenant,” you breathe, wanting the need between your legs to leave but also loving how close he is.
Sure, you’re pissed off but my god. The fresh scent of him is intoxicating, and you’re doing everything in your power not to lean in and lick up the droplet of water running along the side of his throat.
“Why did you come here?” He waits a beat, and when you don’t reply, Simon continues. “To argue?” He lightly pinches your bottom chin, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit. You open your mouth involuntarily and Simon makes at sound in his throat that makes your legs weak. “To see me?” He leans in like he’s about to kiss you. “To be alone?”
“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.
Simon has you caged in. Pinned. The only thing separating your body and his is that towel.
“Why do you think everyone left when they did?” Simon’s thumb drops away from your lips only to press at the hollow of your throat. “It’s not because you walked in.”
“Why?” you ask, as Simon’s thumb drags lowers over your top to the space between your breasts.
“Because you’re mine. And they know it.”
“You—what?” Without anywhere to go, you can’t escape his intense stare.
“I’m staking a claim.”
“Lieutenant—”
“Simon,” he growls. “Call me Simon.”
“Simon,” you say, and he groans.
His dog tags brush against your fingers. The metal is slightly cool and damp. You curl on finger around the chain, and tug, bringing Simon’s face down to yours. If he can tease and touch, you’re going to do the same. He can’t have all the power.
Your lips brush against his through the mask, and Simon’s eyelids begin to close, revealing his gentle submission in this moment. Deepening the movement, you kiss him as if there were no barrier. This time, he truly groans, and you’d give anything to remove the barriers between you and find out what it’s like to feel him deep inside.
Fisting his dog tags in your hand, you shove him away, but only enough that there is a fraction of distance.
“Fix the fucking reports, Simon.”
Instead of kissing him again, or even touching him, you unclench your fist, releasing the dog tags. Slipping under his arm, you exit through the door and out into the gym, leaving a trail of steam in your wake.
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth
@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666
@unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @enfppuff
@cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06
@therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf
@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien
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@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior
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criminalamnesia · 2 months
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Stay
warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader
summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.
author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)
the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.
“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”
his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.
your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.
“the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.
“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.
perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.
you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.
until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.
“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.
"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.
"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.
"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."
you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.
"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.
the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."
"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"
"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.
"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.
"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"
the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.
"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."
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the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.
"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.
"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.
"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.
tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.
"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.
"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.
"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.
"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."
tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.
"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.
as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.
you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.
"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.
you shrug. "just havin' fun."
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the third time you see scott, he saves your life.
it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.
you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.
and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.
"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.
"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.
"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.
what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.
"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."
boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.
"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."
"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.
"ty, I mean it."
rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.
tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.
he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.
a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.
"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.
"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.
fuck, the others-
"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.
"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.
"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.
you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.
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"c'mon, get up!"
everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.
"get up!"
your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.
"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.
the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-
your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-
fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?
your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.
you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.
"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.
"boone?!"
"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window— which is upside down.
you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.
“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.
“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”
“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”
under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—
well, you didn’t want to think about that.
you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.
the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.
“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.
“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.
you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.
“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”
your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.
you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.
but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.
you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—
“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.
it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.
he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.
“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.
“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.
“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”
“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.
you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.
can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?
“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—
the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.
he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.
“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.
agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.
“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”
“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”
he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.
lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.
“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.
if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.
with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.
“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.
“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.
the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.
you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.
you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.
“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.
“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.
you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,
“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”
his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.
the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.
“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.
“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”
“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”
tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.
“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.
“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.
“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.
“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.
“scott.” he tells you. you nod.
“thank you, scott.”
he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.
just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.
maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.
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davdcorenswet · 2 months
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🌪️ whirlwind.
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scott miller x reader Synopsis: the bar has always been a safe haven after a long week of storm-chasing, but when tyler owens decides you’re his lucky charm for the night, you find that scott’s control has its limits. Word Count: 6.4k (pls don't look at me) Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, mentions of near-death experiences, tornadoes (obviously), brief insinuations to cheating, tyler is a pot-stirrer, public sex, dry humping, fingering (f!receiving), degradation, nipple play (f!receiving), orgasm delay, biting?, scott miller has a whore mouth, minor choking, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), lots of dirty talk, no use of y/n A/N: my first time posting fic & writing for scott so pls go easy on me 🥺 sometimes you just have to let a smug little asshole take over ur entire life, am i right? if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍
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It’s been a grueling week, one tornado after another hammering Oklahoma into a state of disarray.
You’re still shaken from the last one, the anxiety of being alone in a motel with your thoughts almost unbearable. You’ve tried to avoid being alone since then, afraid that something worse is always on the horizon, and the thought of being isolated in a room while the rest of the team is out doesn’t sit well.
The bar, though, is a familiar sanctuary. A small comfort amidst the chaos. Even though you’re drained and the idea of socializing feels monumental, tradition is tradition. Javi’s sad puppy eyes and the inevitable guilt trip on the drive back to HQ tomorrow is enough to push you out of bed and into the shower.
And, as much as you don’t want to go, it feels wrong when even Scott makes an effort to go.
By the time you step into the dimly lit bar, clinking glasses and the hum of chatter soothe your worries quickly away. Whirlwind may have seen more than its fair share of fights and other throes of debauchery, but it was a frequent, favorite stop.
And it’s already packed. Between the locals and the other storm-chasers crowding the space, you can’t find Storm Par anywhere. A roar of laughter strikes from the pool tables, and you quickly pocket your phone, realizing you’ll have no luck calling or texting when it won’t even be heard over the noise.
Oh, well. You’ll find them soon enough. Making your way to the bar to greet Jack, the burly bartender who’s been running the place for years and has grown more familiar to you the more you frequent, you hear — rather than see — one of the storm-chasers you were hoping to avoid tonight.
Tyler. God damn. Owens.
You weren’t struck by his Southern charm — your days of easy flattery were past you — but he was hard to ignore. Then again, you should’ve known better by now. Tyler always seemed to be at his best when he had a crowd buzzing around him.
“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, and then you walked in,” he drawls, finding a space alongside you as he sets his empty beer bottle down, his voice smooth. “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?”
You consider turning him down, not sure if you’re up for his ego tonight, but you also know Tyler. He wasn't swayed easily, especially if he saw a challenge. Besides, a free drink was well, free, and as grating as he could get, you supposed one couldn't hurt. So you nod. “Sure, why not.”
Jack, who’d wordlessly gotten your drink as Tyler approached, sets a bottle of your favorite down in front of you, his brow raising to get your attention. You hesitate before taking it and catch his gaze shift slightly past you.
Before you get a chance to follow, Tyler steals your focus with a grin, the ever-present pain in your ass. You can’t fight your instincts to be polite. “So tell me. What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”
You meet his gaze, all swirling hues and open attraction. Maybe if you were that kind of girl, his smooth, clichéd lines would work on you. But you weren’t that girl. You preferred sensible. Practical. Safe. It was why you’d joined Storm Par in the first place, rather than one of the many other crews. This tornado wrangler just wasn’t for you.
Unfortunately for Tyler, he always seemed to miss that memo.
“Same as everyone else, I guess.” You laugh half-heartedly. Maybe if the conversation is light enough, you can slip away without it turning into a spectacle. “Just looking to unwind.”
If Tyler notices your lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he makes a show of settling into his spot next to you, grin stretching wide. The beer in his hands is fresh and cold, same as yours, though unlike yourself he’s already taken a few drinks while you start to pick at the label. Javi would've poked fun by now, but your friend is nowhere near. Typical.
Tyler takes another drink, resting his arm on the bar, your eyes drifting to his tanned bicep. His grin stretches when he catches you looking, and you try not to scowl at falling for his display.
He continues with a well-used, “Well, you sure do brighten up the place.”
Thank god. Playing along, you don’t waste a second as your gaze wanders eagerly around the bar. From your new position you spot a cluster of tables on the other side of the room, Storm Par filling out the seats.
Scott sits alone at one of them, as he always did, but his posture is rigid, and even from a distance you can tell his focus is far from the game of darts Javi tries to include him in. Unsurprising. But rather than being distracted by his phone, worrying about the next job the team would have to take, his eyes are locked in on you.
The intensity makes you shiver. A few bottles sit empty next to him, and you only know they’re his by the unmistakable Guinness label adorning the side. A half-empty glass rests in his hand like he’d meant to take a sip before catching sight of Tyler.
Since joining Storm Par, the number of things you knew about Scott could be counted on your fingers. And in that time, you’d never seen him unwind. Not truly, anyway. As frustrating as it could be, you'd come to respect Scott's unwavering demeanor.
Amidst the chaos, no matter how intense it got, Scott was the stoic anchor of the team. There was a reason for his lectures and regulations. He was as dependable as the code he lived by, but most of the team often dismissed it as rigid and unnecessary. You knew it took strength and reliability to remain true to your values.
Much like you were forgoing now, your polite smile tight on your lips.
Beyond Javi, the rest of the team is scattered around Whirlwind, some dancing with reckless abandon on the makeshift dance floor while others clink shots over a job well done with the other storm-chasing crews. Scott is still firmly planted on the barstool, setting his glass down with a white-knuckled grip.
Tyler, of course, pays no attention. He leans in, casually inching closer to you, wrapping up some story of an exaggerated Wrangler exploit. Close enough to brush against you. When you glance down at the contact, Tyler notices where you’ve grown distracted, that easygoing grin slipping as he takes in your view.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tyler says with a sigh, head shaking in disbelief. “Just admit it — I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Storm Cloud over there.”
You disagree, but keep it to yourself. Tyler and his crew were reckless, and, sure, while there was some level of risk that came with what you all did, there was a clear difference between you and them. 
It was part of what had drawn you to Scott in the first place. He was meticulous and no-nonsense, quick to call out mistakes whether you were out in the field or back in the office. But even Scott wasn't immune to a lecture or two — something he'd gone to great lengths to keep under lock and key.
And you only knew by accident.
Another sleepless night had driven you out of your room in search of coffee, leading you to a diner where you’d stumbled across him and Riggs in a heated discussion. Your Mama had taught you manners about eavesdropping, but you were frozen in place, listening to Riggs furiously drill into Scott over another fuck up (not his fault) and whether he was serious or not about the work they were doing. Before you could slip away unnoticed, not wanting to be lectured too, Scott’s eyes met yours, giving you a small, subtle shake of his head.
You’d run straight back to your room after, hoping that maybe it'd been a weird nightmare and you’d wake up to business as usual. But after another hour of tossing and turning, Scott’s familiar knock sounded at your door, and when you’d gathered the courage to meet him face to face, he’d looked just as conflicted as you felt. After what you’d heard, the way Scott took responsibility for every mistake and didn't throw anyone under the bus, keeping it between you two was the least you could do.
Something changed after that night. When a particularly nasty tornado touched ground a few weeks later and nearly swept you up in it, nobody questioned Scott’s decision to reassign you to Scarecrow. Nobody questioned why your partner had quit shortly after, either.
Scott still hadn’t asked why you’d been awake that night, just the same as you didn’t ask about Riggs.
You glance over at Scott again now, the memory fresh in your mind. His knuckles are just as white as when you’d found him in the diner, expression still shadowed, like he’s torn between intervening and letting it play out. But even with a crowd between you and the two men, the tension is thick, crackling in the air.
Tyler leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as glances over at Scott. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art, doesn’t he? Don’t you ever crave a little spontaneity?”
You shift away from Tyler, the weight of Scott’s gaze growing heavy. From the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the hard set to his jaw, no longer working the cinnamon gum he obsessively kept on him. You manage a tight smile, distracted, as Javi’s voice rises briefly above the noise — your attention divided between the brewing storm on the other end of the bar and the eye of the one you were currently stuck in.
“I… I think we all have our reasons for sticking around.” You say, just as Javi finally notices you, his smile dimming as his gaze slides to Tyler.
Shit.
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Tyler’s drawl is playful, almost teasing, and if he sees that you’re not even looking at him anymore, he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m just saying. If you ever want to get away from Clipboard over there...”
This time you do look with a flash of agitation. “If I wanted that, I’d be part of your team, Tyler. Not his.”
“Now, hold on, just hear me out for a second.” Tyler takes another pull from his drink, but when he sets it back down, he’s too close yet again. Fingers brush unwarranted against you, his touch lingering in a way that immediately makes your skin crawl. “How about we make a deal? Let me show you a good time tonight, and I promise you won’t even remember his name by the end of it.”
The suggestion hangs heavy in the air. You're only just barely aware of the way your features shift as background noise fades and you’re left with a high-pitched ringing in your ears, each emotion rolling through you longer to process than the last. By the time disgust sets in, flinching away from his wandering hands, you see past the red just enough to catch his grin widening in amusement.
And you realize, with terrifying clarity, that he’s been toying with you the whole night, just to start something with your team. You try not to tremble, swallowing your rage, and remind yourself that you'll be kicked out if dump your drink on him.
A stool scrapes loudly from the other side of the room. Whatever semblance of peace snaps.
“Uh oh.” Tyler notices Scott’s approach, and has the audacity to flash you a smile. “Looks like we’ve got company. He sure knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”
You don't have a chance to respond, Scott stopping beside you, barely restrained anger coming off him in waves. You instinctively step closer to him, your drink forgotten and unwanted on the bar. His eyes flash with anger as he regards Tyler, that muscle working overtime in his jaw — and you know he's seen everything, from Tyler whispering into your ear to the look of repulse that you'd tried to hide.
“We need to talk.” Scott’s gaze shifts to you. You recognize the silent message he sends, the urgency in his voice as he fights to control his composure for your sake. “Now.”
“Ouch, Scotty. Not even a hello? And here I thought manners came with that fancy degree.” Tyler whistles low, appraising Scott like he’s not seconds away from getting his nose broken. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend over here. Giving her the whole Wrangler pitch. You know how it goes.” His smirk growing, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “Come to think of it, wasn’t that how Gabby left? Told me she was over all the huffin' and puffin', especially after—”
“Enough.” Scott's interjection is loud and clear, your heart stuttering at the icy tone. When he slides an arm around your waist, the weight unfamiliar, you can’t tell if it’s to keep you from lunging at Tyler, or himself. You glance between Tyler's satisfied grin and the glare Scott sends him, confused. Who was Gabby? “Shut the fuck up for once, Owens. Seriously. Do us all a fucking favor.”
You still swim with questions as Scott pulls you close, no longer waiting for Tyler’s approval or response — not that he needed it in the first place. Lights cast long shadows as he navigates you between tables, the ringing in your ears lessening the further away from Tyler you get. Scott ushers you out the nearest exit, his palm warm against the small of your back.
The back door slams shut with a final click as you spill out into the alley together. It’s as dimly lit as the inside is, a singular dying bulb flickering just a few steps away. The sounds of the bar are muffled here now that your hearing has returned to normal, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and your ragged breathing.
The chilled air immediately hits you as Scott pulls away, and you watch, lost, as he paces angrily while you try to sort your thoughts out.
“What the hell was that? I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight.” Scott’s voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a knife. He turns to face you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his scowl reflecting the look he gets when he's about to unleash on someone. “You said you needed space, time to clear your head… So why are you here? With him?”
“I know. Plans change,” you reply, caught off-guard, hoping to sound casual even as you hook your finger nervously under the strap of your dress. You’ve never seen Scott this worked up before, and it’s unsettling.
“Plans change?” Scott scoffs, his voice rising with every word. “That’s your excuse? You say one thing, and then do the complete opposite? What was your plan, then? To drink with Tyler and maybe let him drive you home? Was that the idea?”
You’re taken aback by the sharpness of his words. “It was just a drink, Scott. I needed to get out and clear my head.”
“Just a drink?” Scott’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his frustration barely contained. “Do you really think I’m that naive? Tyler doesn’t just do ‘just a drink.’ He’s always looking for something more. And you—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “He makes a mess of everything he touches. You know what he’s like. Hell, you’re smart enough to see through his bullshit. So why are you letting him get close to you?”
“Scott, it’s not like that,” you protest, your voice wavering slightly under his scrutiny. “I needed to get out. It had nothing to do with him.”
“And you couldn’t find another way to clear your head? Without him? Without the guy who’s known for causing chaos?” His voice is thick with emotion, the carefully controlled mask he usually wears slipping away to reveal the raw frustration and fear beneath. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? I’ve been through this before, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes.”
“What are you implying?” You ask, confused and angry.
“I’m saying I think you’re using Tyler as a distraction,” Scott says, his voice sharp, “A way to escape from everything you’ve been dealing with.”
Frustration prickles at his words, and even though you try not to, it’s hard to keep the edge from your voice. “Escape? That’s not— I’m not running away from anything.”
“We’ve had a rough week. I know it’s been hard on you,” Scott says, his tone softening slightly, though he still looks on edge. His jaw ticks again, and your gaze immediately darts to the pack of gum you know he keeps in his right back pocket. “But if you’re letting someone like Tyler pull you away from what really matters, it’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen too many people get hurt by him.”
Your anger flares at his scolding, hating that you found yourself in one storm, only to be led willingly into the next. “And what, Scott? You think you know me so well that you can just decide what’s best for me?”
“No, I’m just—” Scott shakes his head, taking a step toward you, then rethinking it. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” You try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Safe doesn’t really exist in our line of work, and you know that.”
Scott’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. He takes a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. “You think I don’t know that? When things go wrong, I need to know that I can count on the people around me to handle their shit.”
You raise an eyebrow, uncertain where this is going. “And what exactly does that have to do with Tyler or me?”
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his tone almost pleading. “When you’re involved, everything gets complicated. I can’t think straight when you’re involved. I can’t focus. Hell, I can’t even sleep at night.”
Scott runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping tightly as if trying to ground himself. “That tornado— When the equipment malfunctioned because Dale failed to follow the calibration protocols I specifically fucking outlined— I was frozen, just paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I knew we couldn’t make it to you in time.”
You still, remembering how quickly Scott had cornered Dale when you got back. You’d thought it was because of the readings and the instructions he’d ignored that had nearly cost you both your lives.
Scott’s breath hitches as he continues. “It would’ve been my fault. My responsibility. My orders. I was convinced I’d lost you. And I thought if I could just keep you safe, try to control the chaos, that it might make things better. But seeing you with Tyler tonight... It’s like I’m back in that moment, feeling helpless, and I—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Look, I’m not going through that again. I can’t.”
His voice cracks, and you see the depth of his internal struggle. “I’m just… trying to protect you,” he admits quietly, “but I don’t know if you even see it that way.”
His words weigh heavy, the shock of it ripping right through you. Scott Miller didn't go out of his way to be kind.
You're pulled back through the last few months: the coffee, just the way you liked it, that Scott always had waiting for you after a chase; his lack of scorn when you fell asleep on him in the van the next morning, when exhaustion wins and his silence becomes safety; the lingering, unasked question on his lips every time you were tasked to go out onto the field again and you agreed, over and over, despite the very real fear of the very thing you chased.
For a moment, everything else fades away — Tyler, the bar, the noise.
“Scott.” Your voice breaks through the quiet in a whisper, drawing close to him. Your hands glide gently along the black fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I’m here,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I’m with you.”
For a moment, that vulnerability continues to swim in his eyes. And then he steps closer, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. You think, for a split second of panic, that he means to push you away and close himself off the way he usually does; instead, his thumbs rub tenderly at your palms, the action so gentle and unlike him that it makes your breath stall.
Instinctively your gaze meets his, forgetting (as you often did) just how big he actually was. Tall, broad, and deliciously toned; when you thought of Scott, you thought of him behind a desk, not running laps around his neighborhood and clocking in hours at the gym. Your uniforms did an amazing job of hiding his physique, but it’s impossible to ignore now. His black undershirt clings to him like a second skin and reveals the hard, taut muscles of his body, further evidence of the control he wielded so effortlessly.
His eyes search yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. You’ve never seen him so open before, and as his hands smooth down your arms to the curve of your waist, there’s a sense of urgency in his touch that he doesn’t vocalize.
Fear. Longing. Desire. His jaw sets again as his gaze drops to your mouth, and you think, for one terrifying moment, that he won’t do it. Would he regain his composure, push you away, then act like nothing had happened the next morning? His brows furrow, as if reading your thoughts. Maybe you’d be reassigned just to avoid the awkwardness of it all. Scott could send you packing with just a phone call.
Your heart pounds, frozen in place, each second lasting an eternity. His fingers flex on your waist, the electrifying touch causing your lips to part and your lashes to flutter. The sight makes his throat bob.
“God damn it,” he groans, his voice guttural.
It’s the only warning you get before his mouth descends onto yours. Though his lips are smooth, there’s nothing gentle about the way Scott kisses you. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, devouring and demanding and all-consuming, like you’re the very air he needs to breathe. You sigh, aching for more, that dull fire inside you growing hotter at the groan that escapes him. As he fists a hand in your hair, he wraps a strong arm around your middle to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.
“Scott…” Bunching his shirt in your hands, you’re helpless when he nips at your bottom lip, pulling desperate, needy sounds from you. As he trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, finding every spot with ease, his fingers wrap gently around your throat, your pulse racing against his thumb.
“God, I’ve wanted you like this for months,” Scott murmurs against your skin, his voice a low growl that makes your thighs clench. A soft moan escapes as you tilt your head to give him better access, his noise of approval rumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve dreamt of this.”
He presses you into the wall behind you as he ravages your neck, all teeth and tongue and the kind of marks that you’ll have to find excuses for in the morning. A shiver sends you arching up into him, fingers slipping into his hair as he palms your breast, lowering his mouth to suck a greedy mark there. You whine at the friction you’re missing, hips circling the air, desperately hooking your fingers into his belt loops to drag him closer.
“Shhh,” Scott pauses to hitch your leg up, slotting his knee between your thighs. Dark blue eyes drink in the sight of you as he squeezes your ass, a cocky smile spreading on his pink and swollen lips. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You mewl when his knee brushes against your heat, enough to have you rolling helplessly against him but not enough to satisfy your desires. “So pretty, so desperate.”
“Yes,” You grip him harder for some semblance of a tether, that condescending, degrading voice only adding fuel to the fire. Did he know what you fantasized about late at night? The shower running to muffle your moans while you touched yourself to his deep voice, lecturing you over a simple mistake? Open desire swirls in your eyes, pleading now, every want laid bare for him. “Please, I want it.”
Scott’s low noise of approval sounds in his throat, pressing closer to give you what you need. You’d be half-ashamed at the way you eagerly grind against him if his own arousal wasn’t hard against your hip, straining, large and throbbing with every roll of your hips. The material of your panties do nothing to stop the delicious ache of his worn jeans against your clit, too many pieces of fabric between you, trying to quiet pretty sounds as you bite your lip.
“Look at you,” Scott growls, your dress inching higher as he seizes your hips, helping you find a rhythm. Hooking the lace of your panties under his fingers, he tugs the material up tight enough together to elicit a hiss, a dimple playing at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, “Is this all for me, baby?”
Barely managing a nod, you meet his eyes through thick lashes and whimper at the expression on his face. That intense gaze drinks in every inch of you like you’re a piece of art and the last thing he wants to remember, his usually stormy eyes hazy with desire.
“God damn... You just can’t get enough, can you, baby? When you touch yourself at night, do you think about me? Rubbing that needy little pussy on your pillow ‘cause you just can’t help it?” You press harder into him in response, his answering laugh dark against your ear. “But it’s never enough, is it? You always crave more, something thicker, something stronger.”
You whine against the loss of contact as he drops his knee, the sting of your panties snapping against your skin quickly forgotten when he trails his digits along the swell of your mouth. You open up greedily, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue intoxicating as you wrap your lips around him. 
“I bet you look so pretty,” he continues, his voice ragged, “Spread out like a top dollar whore with your cunt in the air, gagging on your fingers and wishing it were me. Wondering how many you need to suck on to fill you up just right. How many do you think, baby? Two? More?”
Scott pulls his fingers out with a pop, nuzzling against you as you try to remember to breathe. “Would you even be able to use that brain of yours, baby? Or would you be so fucking desperate to fill your hole that you’d use however many fit?”
He hikes up your dress while he pushes his hand in your panties, fingers slipping through your soaked folds. Fuck. He slowly circles your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs as you arch up into him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t feel like this, does it?”
Not even close. Worst of all, you weren’t even sure if Scott knew just how true it was. Other men may have excited you, but nothing compared to this — not you, not the others you took to your bed, not even the fantasy Scott you envisioned. You buck helplessly against him, eager for more, whimpering out some sort of half-reply as you grip his wrist in a pathetic effort to keep him there.
Scott just grins. “What’s wrong, baby? Am I going too slow for you?” When he softens his touch, your nails dig into his skin, leaving little crescent moon marks. Lips desperately search for his, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. “I knew you’d be greedy,” he hums, gripping you roughly by the chin, his thumb swiping over your parted lips. “Letting me play with your pussy like this, where anyone could walk out and see how much of a slut you’re being.”
You bite back a moan as you remember where you are, glancing frantically at the door like it might open any second. Your pulse skyrockets when he resumes teasing, circling your clit then dipping down to press at your entrance. Fingers close around the fabric of his shirt, meaning to push him away and only pulling him closer with another desperate whine. “Scott, please…”
“Fuck.” There’s a dark look that flashes across his face, voice rough and ragged, and you watch, with nothing to shield his gaze, as his control snaps.
Sliding his hand over your mouth, it’s the only warning you get before he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt. The growl that escapes him when you automatically clench around it only makes you wetter, paralyzed with lust as he works you into pliancy. You pant, chest heaving, as he finds a steady rhythm that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, every moan muffled against the palm of his hand as you arch into his touch.
You cry out when he adds a second finger, rocking your hips desperately as he angles his hand just right to rub against your clit. “Harder— Please, more—” The words are strangled, spilling out of you mindlessly now, unable to think beyond the way Scott stretches you out. You grab a fistful of his hair as he groans against your neck, dragging teeth and tongue along your skin, freeing your breasts from your dress before covering your mouth again.
“So god damned sexy,” he growls, quick to lap at your hardened nipples, the flat of his tongue spilling another pretty sound from your throat. He curls his digits deeper inside you, the wet schlick of your heat loud in your ears as he sets a brutal pace, switching his attention to your other neglected nipple.
Breath hot against your skin, Scott relishes how you become putty in his hands, holding onto him for support as he strokes that burning fire in you.
“Perfect fucking tits. Perfect fucking pussy. Jesus, sweetheart,” he nips at your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Is this what you like? Being used like my own personal fucktoy? What would the others think if they saw you right now, fucking yourself stupid on me like a bitch in heat?”
He slips his fingers out long enough for you to beg, his smile dark against your skin while you whimper in desperation — and then he’s pushing back into you, stretching your hole with every rough thrust of his fingers. “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your body knows it’s meant to be mine.”
Scott kisses you hungrily as he drops his free hand to your breast, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you scream. His fingers slick harder into you, his cock thick and grinding into your hip while you try to breathe against his storm, your own control slipping as you fist his dark curls in your hands, looking for leverage.
“That’s it,” he growls, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it, baby? You wanna cum for me? Let the whole bar know you’re my toy to play with?”
“Please, please, please—” You can’t think beyond the brutal pace he’s set, not even sure that your voice sounds human as you babble, eyes big and watering. “Wanna cum for you, please, I need it—”
“You need it?” You gasp as the pain on your nipple subsides only for him to pinch the other, something dark and destructive swirling heavy in his blue eyes. You shiver at the expression, the carnal desire written so clearly over his face, every word out of his mouth deep, commanding, leaving no room for debate. “I’ll tell you when you get to cum. This is mine.” Pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit, he watches with glee as you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, obeying his command even as your body fights.
Your knees nearly buckle at the growl in his voice. Every thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, the heat overwhelming. How many nights had you spent with your fingers in your cunt, picturing scenario after scenario of him taking you in the van, in the bathroom, on his desk after hours? 
“Say it,” Scott insists. “Tell me you’re mine.”
You meet his gaze, the intensity of it nearly sending you over the edge. “I’m yours,” you say, caught between a moan and something stronger, your words choking off.
“Again.” His expression tightens, picking up speed. “Louder.”
“I’m yours!” Your body trembles with the effort to stay upright, writhing against him. The words feel like a vow, your grip on Scott tight as you sob them into him. “My pussy is yours, my body is yours— Just a pathetic, dirty, worthless hole for you to fuck— Fuck, Scott, please—”
Scott growls in response, fisting his hand in your hair as finds the spongey spot inside of you. His digits work you hard, the veins in his arms on display as you bite back a scream, waiting, begging, needing. “Cum,” he grunts, the sound of his fingers driving into you loud and damning, “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me.”
You fall over the edge hard and fast, crying out as all the tension from the night finally snaps. It feels like an eternity as he continues fucking you through it, every filthy promise spelled out clearly with his lips at your ear.
By the time you come crashing back down, you’re shaking and empty, blinking back stars as Scott steps back. “Oh my god,” you gasp, fighting to catch your breath, mind still a mess as you try to piece together everything that happened. “That was…”
You watch, mesmerized, as Scott sucks his fingers into his mouth, a groan of approval sounding deep in his throat. And when he squeezes at his bulge straining against his zipper, your core clenches tight at the thought of his weight on top of yours, fucking you into submission again and again until he gets his fill.
“Just the beginning,” Scott promises, stepping toward you to tilt your chin up, his free hand coming down to tighten around your soaked panties and pull. They rip easily in his strong grasp, his grin triumphant as he stuffs them into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”
“Why?” Your body tenses with anticipation, noting the defined dimple in his cheek, the kind of grin he only wore when he was about to be incredibly, infuriatingly smug.
“Because,” he hums, full of condescension, “I didn’t hear a thank you.”
Before you can fix your mistake, Scott silences you with a kiss, his mouth patronizingly gentle as a wicked laugh sounds in the back of his throat. “Don’t worry,” he says, dropping another chaste kiss to your mouth, your nose, the space between your creased brows. “It won’t happen again. I’ll teach you, sweetheart.”
Goosebumps rise on your flesh as Scott adjusts your dress to cover your exposed body, the act so gentle and unbecoming that you freeze enough to let him. The moment only lasts a minute, your eyes meeting as he squeezes the curve of your ass when he’s done, all that vulnerability you had seen locked away again, like he’s guarding himself as reality comes back to life.
A muscle feathers in his jaw as his gaze shifts from you to the back door you’d spilled from. You’ve known Scott long enough by now to know he won’t be the one to say what’s hanging in the air. It would be easier, safer, to walk back in like nothing had happened and return to the motel alone, hitching a ride with anyone other than Scott the next morning.
But if you turn away now, you’ll never see that side of him again: the side that stayed up with you when he could be sleeping, the kind that comforted you without words, the kind that lit your world on fire with every bruising mark he’d left on you. The chance of knowing the man behind the mask.
You don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach for him or the flash of relief that flickers through him. “You think I’m teachable?” You ask, turning big eyes up at him, begging him to see the way you lay yourself bare for him — hoping, praying, that he doesn’t turn you down even still.
“I’m not an easy teacher.” He says, low, still guarded. Still giving you one last out.
You shake your head, a laugh tumbling out. His throat bobs at the sound. “I don’t want easy.” The truth of that hangs heavy in the air, zipping between the two of you as recognition passes through his eyes. “Now are you driving, or am I?”
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he presses his tongue into his cheek and takes a step back. “My van, my rules,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm, and you hear the familiar rumble of the Storm Par van coming to life. His keys jingle in his hand as he adds, “You should know that by now.”
You bite your lip, suppressing a smile, and follow him out of the alleyway.
You did know. And as you settle into the passenger seat, the scent of the van enveloping you — a mix of old leather and Scott’s cologne — anticipation crackles in the air. The night stretches ahead, full of unspoken possibilities.
You couldn’t wait to test how far those rules went... and just how much you both were willing to bend them.
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cheesecakethots · 1 year
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geto having a cute little non-sorcerer wife that he swears he hates.
he only marries you for your father’s riches, and so when you arrive on his doorstep he leaves the maids to tell you where you’ll be staying; the room furthest from his own.
you’ve been instructed not to so much as look at him, but he finds that he hardly sees you, anyway. you’re more like a ghost that haunts the manor than his wife.
most of the time he’ll happen to pass you sat alone in the garden, dressed in pretty kimonos that have most definitely been suited to his tastes. he hardly speaks to you, the only time he has was when the two of you had accidentally bumped into each other when turning a corner.
“watch it, monkey,” he had hissed, before continuing on with his day. he later found himself thinking on the nervous expression and faint embarrassed blush that had adorned your face. he had been tempted to smash his head against the wall to rid himself of the memory, as it plagued him the entire evening.
your father starts visiting and he has the basic decency to at least pretend as though he loves you. it results in awkward proximity and unloving kisses to your forehead, at least until your father leaves.
for some time, geto’s not entirely sure as to why you play along. you could go to your father and ask to leave this loveless marriage, could you not? then it dawns on him; your father doesn’t care, and you already know that. geto doesn’t like how a tiny part of his chest aches when he thinks too hard about that fact.
it’s not as though he leaves you locked up in some basement, withering away. you’re allowed to explore most of the manor, most of your needs can be met by asking the maids and very rarely he will permit you to visit the nearby town marketplace with some guards.
he starts seeing you more. he’ll sometimes find himself out in the garden, pretending that he has any business outside other than to keep an eye on you. he’ll never admit it, but it can sometimes calm him down, just watching you go about your day. to him it’s like watching a pet trot about, not realising their owner is watching with keen eyes. you’re still just a useless monkey, of course.
one day he discovers you crying in the garden you love so much. he’s never seen you cry before, hell, he’s hardly seen any emotions on you.
“what happened?” he finds himself asking before he can stop. you jump in your seat, not having expected him to be beside you.
“nothing, really,” you say, your voice still shaky and your hand wiping away at drying tears, “i’m sorry to have bothered you.”
he frowns, his patience quickly wearing thin. “tell me, now. what happened?”
you sigh, and some part of him can’t help but note how pretty your eyes look, despite the redness around them. he pushes the thought out before it can properly settle.
“my father sent me a letter,” you confess. “he’s… not happy with me.”
he steps closer to you. “why?”
you hesitate, your mouth opening and closing, but the expression he wears has you telling the truth.
“he wishes that i was pregnant with your child. i have told him that i am not, and never will be, and he… well, he’s not happy.”
suguru raises an eyebrow. “never will be… ?”
you blush, looking to the floor. “i know that you hate me. it may be easier for you to have a child with another.”
he scoffs.
“i don’t-“ geto pauses himself. “do you really think i’m the type of man to have a bastard with some whore?”
“w-well, no, but-“
“do you wish to stay married to me?”
you gulp. “no. i don’t.”
he pauses for a moment, seemingly considering something.
“if you give me a child, i’ll allow you to leave. you’ll still be married to me in name, but you won’t have to stay here, and you won’t be tethered to your father.”
your jaw drops for a moment, and then you collect yourself. “will i be able to see the child after i give birth?”
“sometimes,” he tells you. in reality, he doubt he’d ever let you near them, but you don’t need to know that.
“… okay.”
he finds it harder to convince himself that he hates everything about you when he has you beneath him, your ankles on his broad shoulders and your hands pressing against his back. he can’t help but fuck you even faster when hearing you whine and mewl. he wants to lick the expression you have off of your face, but refuses to indulge in the idea.
“su-su-suguru!” you cry. he stills inside you for just a moment. it’s the first time he’s ever heard you say his name. he was beginning to think you had forgotten it.
he grabs onto your wrists with one hand, pressing them above your head and manhandling you into another position, one in which he can somehow go even deeper than before.
he chuckles, low and raspy, “stupid fucking monkey…”
he’s starting to wonder if maybe he needs two kids. maybe four? hm. maybe you do have your usefulness. maybe he shouldn’t let you go, after all.
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retroaria · 1 month
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SOMEONES JEALOUS!
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summary: (Sakura, Suō, Kaji) when they’re jealous seeing you with another guy!
WIND BREAKER M.LIST | enjoy 🥀 -aria
ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩
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Sakuras jealousy is a recurring issue. Once you’re his and he’s accepted that fact, he hates when anyone else gets more attention from you than he does. It makes him question everything, feels like he’s having a mid life crisis.
He sometimes get jealous of the way you interact with the other Bofurin boys as well. Is afraid you might think one of them is nicer than him, or that they could protect you better than he could. you constantly have to reassure him, which makes him feel even worse.
If he sees someone actively flirting with you right in front of him, he goes into fight or flight mode
Acts like you’re about to be murdered and his only way to save you is obnoxiously interjecting himself in the convo. “hahaha right MY PARTNER is soooo cool! you guys friends? Never heard of you before hahaha strange.” “Hey BABE, you seem to be having a lot of fun over here…WITHOUT ME.” The guy would just awkwardly walk away lol
Once he’s gone Sakura goes back to normal and tries to act like what he just did wasn’t borderline insane. “What do you mean? I was just talking to you how I always do.” Yeah suuuuure.
Just make sure he knows you love him and no one else. Appreciates when you include him in convos with strangers while you two are out, hates being left out of the loop.
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Ren definitely feels like you are the light of his life, his sunshine on a cloudy day, the only pure thing about him, keeping him sane and at bay. Deep down he’s terrified that you’ll find someone more gentle than he is, someone less angry and tense all the time. So when something threatens to take you away, he gets rather aggressive
He prefers if you don’t see him that way. So anytime someone seems to be a little too flirty, or trying to get a little too close to you, he stalks his pray and waits it out. Once the interaction is over (you obviously rejected them), he’ll wait until you leave, head off to the bathroom, or just aren’t paying attention to shoot them the most devious glance imaginable.
Eyes of a killer as he bites down hard, cracking the candy in his mouth. sending them a signal of what might happen to them if they don’t back off. If you aren’t around, “you shouldn’t go for someone so far out of your league” “back off”.
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Suo doesn’t tend to get jealous. He’s got you whipped (just as much as you have him) and he knows it. A confident king.
On the rare occasion he does feel threatened by another man, it’s usually by someone of his same stature, coy and nonchalant. It almost makes his blood boil to see someone teasing you the way he does just to see that cute flustered face.
Thinks its disrespectful for other men to bother you when they should already see how fruitless it is. In his head, someone like you is surely taken. (Though he still finds it hard to believe that he was the one who was able to take you)
He’s likes to let it go on for a little, wanting to see what tactics the guy might employ. He also wants to see the look on this persons face when they are inevitably rejected by you.
If they keep pestering you even after you’ve declined their advances, Suo will step in. “Hey darling, do you need my help here?” “How bold of you to assume you’d have a chance.” (He’s saying all of this with the most devious smile on his face, probably giggling too. Cheeky bastard.)
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amiableness · 2 months
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i had another idea for dad!james. who sometimes has to work late and reader helps take care of henry. he comes home and sees her reading henry a story before bed. he’s just heart eyes the whole time 🤎
Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1125 words
By the time James gets home, he’s exhausted. He didn’t plan to be this late, but sometimes his job demands it. He feels fortunate that you’re the one watching Henry tonight. If it had been the babysitter, she would have told him "tough luck" and left, as she never likes staying late when James’s work keeps him beyond schedule. He understands her frustration; it’s not fair to expect her to stay late without notice. But coming home to you and Henry is always a comfort.
He longs to kick off his shoes by the door, savoring the relief of stretching his toes. A hot shower to wash away the stress and changing into his cozy sweats are next on his list. Yet, more than anything, he looks forward to seeing his two favorite people: Henry, with his innocent, sleepy smile, and you, with your warm, comforting presence.
You truly embody comfort for him.
James will never admit it, but the nights you watch Henry while he works late are his favorite. Dinner is always kept warm for him in the oven, filling the kitchen with a delicious, welcoming aroma. The lamps he never uses are on because you insist they make the house cozier, casting a soft, inviting glow over the living room. And seeing your jacket and shoes tucked right next to his and Henry’s is one of his favorite sights—a simple yet profound reminder of home.
You take care of the little things that mean so much, like tidying up Henry’s toys and leaving a packed lunch for James in the fridge for the next day. Those lunches are the only ones he looks forward to, knowing that if he makes them himself, they’ll just be leftovers from Henry’s daycare lunches. You never prepare Henry’s lunches, understanding how much James values the tradition of leaving him a note. Although Henry can’t read it yet, Hilary at daycare always makes sure to read it to him.
The moment he opens the front door, a lovesick smile spreads across his face. There, by the door, are your coat and boots—essential for braving the London winter. As he steps inside, the familiar aroma of his favorite pasta dish fills the air, welcoming him home.
He locks the door behind him and sets his belongings down near the entryway. The house is neat and quiet, with the lamps providing a softer, more pleasant light than the harsh overheads. The faint aroma of pasta still lingers, adding to the relaxed atmosphere. He’s pretty sure the house never smells this good after he makes dinner.
As he heads up the stairs, he hears your voice animatedly reading Henry a bedtime story. Every now and then, Henry’s giggles punctuate the scene, and James imagines the dramatic pauses you take, flashing playful glances at him. He moves quietly, not wanting to interrupt, but he wants to take a moment to savor the sight of you reading to his son. The feeling he gets seeing you with Henry is something he knows he might never experience with anyone else.
He knows that someday things will change. You’ll find someone else, fall in love, and soon you won’t have the time to spend evenings at his house reading to his son. The thought of that future makes James feel uneasy.
For now, he leans quietly against the doorframe of Henry’s room, watching as you recline against the headboard of Henry’s small toddler bed, with Henry snuggled up next to you. Your hair is swept back, and you’re wearing a pair of sleep shorts that are a size too small, which always drives James a little crazy. He suppresses a smile when he notices you’re wearing one of his shirts—probably another forgotten piece from your own wardrobe. It happens often, but James remains oblivious to the fact that it might be intentional.
Henry’s head rests gently on the side of your upper stomach, his little hand clutching his stuffed dragon tightly to his chest. His brows are furrowed in deep concentration, and James can see the joy in his son’s eyes as he listens intently to the story. The soft glow from the bedside lamp washes over both of you: Henry’s tiny form curled up against you, his breaths steady and rhythmic, and you, fully immersed in the book, your voice animated and soothing.
James adjusts his glasses slightly, trying to avoid interrupting the moment. But as he moves, Henry’s gaze shoots up, and his face instantly lights up with a wide grin. “Daddy!” he exclaims with a burst of excitement, his voice filled with pure joy.
"That does look a bit like Daddy, doesn’t it?" you say, tilting your head as you examine the book with a playful grin.
“What does, darling?” James asks as he steps into the room, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity. He gives up trying to stay inconspicuous once Henry spots him. Your eyes widen in surprise, your expression shifting from surprise to a hint of embarrassment as you look up. The soft light from the bedside lamp illuminates your face, revealing the genuine shock.
“Jamie! You scared me.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you two might be asleep, so I tried to come in quietly.” It’s a half-truth, but you don’t press the matter.
“I suppose it’s getting a bit late, isn’t it?” You glance at the clock and wince. “Let’s finish this page and then get some rest, okay?”
“Daddy, you listen too.” Henry’s tiny hand reaches out and pats the bed, his eyes shining with anticipation. James fights back a grin, recognizing the familiar gesture. Whenever you want James or Henry to sit beside you, you pat the spot next to you just like that.
“There isn’t much room, buddy,” James says gently. Henry’s face falls into a small frown, clearly disappointed.
“You hold darling, like she holds me.” Henry pouts, and James knows he’s about to get what he wants in the most endearing way only a three-year-old can manage. “Darling”—the nickname James has always used for you and that Henry now affectionately calls you too.
James’s eyes flicker to yours, and you shrug with a smile, adjusting Henry in your arms to make space for him. As James shifts onto the too-small bed, his heart pounds with affection. You lean back against his chest, sending him a soft, reassuring smile over your shoulder.
The simple gesture nearly causes him to go into cardiac arrest.
Henry lets out a joyful giggle before snatching the book from your hands and starting to "read" it on his own. James glances down at the illustration of the friendly brown bear wearing wire-rimmed glasses, holding its cub close, and snorts softly.
So that’s how you see him.
please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍
Dad!James and Bsf!Reader Masterlist!
826 notes · View notes
daisynik7 · 9 months
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Double the Fun
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Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Reiner Braun
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~3.9k
cw: next-door neighbors Eren and Reiner, modern day au, all characters are mid-twenties, explicit language, p*rn no plot, smut – threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex, anal play, spit play, nipple play, cunnilingus, face-riding, blowjob, hand job (M/M), double-penetration, multiple orgasms from the reader, sex toy use (anal plug), cream pies (in both holes), Reiner is a bit of a perv and sniffs panties (just like how he sniffed Historia’s letter in the finale LOL), pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie), slight degradation (use of slut, cock slut, whore, and cock sleeve to address the reader), slight breeding kink, sex without a condom (assuming reader is on some form of birth control)
Summary: You’ve been having a bit of a dry spell recently with how busy you’ve been at work. When you finally manage to snag a date with one of your online dating matches, you’re unfortunately stood up, leaving you in a worse mood than before. Lucky for you, your two hot neighbors are more than willing to cheer you up.  
Author’s Notes: Phew! This one is a doozy! Please make sure you read the content warnings before reading. This is filthy and shameless; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I LOVE Eren and Reiner together, idk, they just always scratch this everlasting itch I have. I’m still getting used to writing threesomes, so I hope this is okay! Also, this is my first foray into butt stuff and I may have awoken something inside me, LOL. MDNI divider by the loveliest @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading! 
Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @slvt-for-smut @antique-remains @aiyaaayei
part 4 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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“Are you sure you don’t want me to sit, like, two tables away? What if this guy is sketch?” 
You can spot the obvious concern in Pieck’s voice through the speaker of your phone, which is currently face-up on top of your vanity as you get ready. You finish the last steps of your makeup, inspecting yourself in the mirror, satisfied. “Don’t worry, I’ve got pepper spray in my purse in case he tries anything funny,” you assure your best friend. It’s been a while since you last went on a proper date. Pieck’s always been a worry-wart about you meeting strangers from your online dating apps, constantly reminding you to stay vigilant. Tonight is no different. 
“You should at least let your hot neighbors know that you’re going out, so they can keep an eye out for you,” she suggests, throwing that in casually. Ever since you moved in a few months ago, she’s been rooting for you to hook up with either of the two men next door, Eren Jaeger and Reiner Braun. She’s met them plenty of times in passing and would much rather you date one of them instead of the countless of mysterious men on your current roster. 
There’s no denying that they’re attractive. Eren with his long, dark hair, striking eyes, and toned physique. Reiner with his sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and well-groomed goatee. They also happen to be incredibly friendly towards you, always greeting you in the hallway with a genuine smile, asking how your day went or what you’ll be up to. They’ve invited you for dinner on several occasions, which has always been pleasant, sometimes leaning towards the flirtatious side. You’re sure they’re just nice guys, cordial neighbors looking out for one another. There’s nothing more to it than that, even if a small part of you wants there to be. 
You step back from your reflection, checking yourself out once one more. “I’ll be fine, Pieck.”
“What if I can’t reach you? There should be at least one other person who’s aware of your whereabouts, right?” This is what binging too many true crime documentaries does. Still, you’re grateful for your friend’s concern, knowing it’s all out of love. You can tell she’s actually distressed about this, so you end up agreeing, mostly to appease her. She wishes you well before hanging up as you slip into heels by the door. 
You tug at the hem of your skimpy black dress, hand motionless on the doorknob. It’s your first date in over a month. Work has been so busy that you haven’t had time for romance or sex. The variety of sex toys tucked away in your drawer has been your only solace these past few weeks. To say you’re ready for some real action is an understatement. You’re also incredibly nervous, afraid you’ve lost your groove. That’s why you’ve taken extra measures to fully prepare yourself for anything tonight. 
With a deep breathe, you step out into the hallway, following Pieck’s advice. You knock on your neighbor’s door and Eren is the first to answer. His expression brightens when he realizes it’s you. “Hi,” he greets you, flashing that charming smile of his. He scans you up and down, taking in your appearance. “Wow.”
“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?” you grin, twirling for him. 
He swallows hard, checking you out once more. “Definitely a good wow.”
It’s that extra boost of confidence you need for this date, so you’re appreciative of him. “Thank you, Eren. You’re always so sweet.” 
He crosses his arms over his chest, smirking. “So, hot date tonight?”
You decide to be honest with him. “Yeah. It’s been a minute, so I’m a little nervous.”
“Don’t be. Any guy would be lucky to date you.” His eyes twinkle at you kindly.
You imagine Pieck screaming at you from twenty miles away, begging you to date Eren instead of going out with this random swipe right. Eren is simply a sweet guy paying his neighbor a compliment. There’s nothing more to it than that. Before you get the chance to thank him, Reiner’s deeper voice calls out from inside the apartment. “Who is it?”
Without taking his eyes off you, Eren answers with your name. Soon, the blonde joins him, jaw dropping when he notices you. “Fuck.”
Eren elbows him in the chest, to which Reiner mutters a strained apology. “Sorry. You just look amazing.”
The flattery is almost too much, cheeks warm with embarrassment, stomach fluttering. “Thank you.” Reiner is usually the more forward of the two, blurting out whatever is on his mind, though you’re not complaining. 
Grinning, Reiner asks, “So, who’s the lucky guy?”
“Someone I met online. My friend said I should let my wonderful neighbors know my whereabouts tonight, in case I end up missing,” you explain casually. 
“How morbid,” Eren chuckles. “We’ll keep an eye out for you later so that your friend doesn’t have to worry.”
“I would appreciate that.”
Reiner raises a brow at you. “Unless you’re planning on sleeping with him. We probably won’t see you if it does go well.” He hunches forward when Eren lands another blow to his chest, shutting his roommate up. 
You giggle, agreeing with him. “No, you’re totally right. I’m going to stay optimistic and say that if I don’t come home tonight, that’s a good thing.”
“We’ll hope for the best, then,” Eren replies, beaming. 
You turn to leave, waving farewell to them. Reiner yells out, “Have fun tonight! But not too much fun!”
~~~
You return to your apartment complex less than two hours later, heels clicking loudly on the tiled steps, feet heavy with disappointment. After taking a twenty-minute taxi ride to the restaurant you agreed to meet him at, you proceeded to wait an entire hour only to realize that you’ve been stood up. No text, no reply, no call. You’ve been made a fool, completely humiliated, the night and the rest of your weekend absolutely ruined by this asshole’s no-show.  
It takes you a while to dig through your purse for your keys, patience already worn thin. Frustrated, you groan out loud, staring up at the ceiling. “Why me?”
In the worst timing ever, the door to your left swings open. Eren pops his head out, saying your name curiously.
Reluctantly, you turn to face him. “Hey.”  
He comes out, dressed casually in sweats, hair wrapped in a messy bun with the few stray strands draping the back of his neck. “That was quick.”
With an unconvincing smile, trying to hide the shame that currently consumes you, you admit, “I got stood up.”
His demeanor changes instantly. The concern on his face is endearing, and when he drifts towards you, he reaches out, then drops his arm, unsure how best to console you without crossing any lines. “No way.”
You nod, sighing. “It’s true.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He steps closer to you, hesitantly placing his hand on your shoulder, testing the waters. 
You smile at him, enjoying this simple touch of comfort. “It’s fine. It is what it is.”
The two of you linger like this, Eren gazing into your eyes, holding you. His palm is hot on the fabric of your dress, and for a split second, you wonder how pleasant it’d be on your bare skin. And maybe it’s your wishful thinking or your desperation for human contact after being rejected tonight, but you can feel the heat of a spark between you now. Before you let your fantasies drive you to do something unprecedented, you search your bag again, finally retrieving your keys. He lets you go, watching you shove them into the keyhole, unlocking the door. “Are you okay?”
In all honestly, you’re not, but there’s nothing him or anyone else can do about it, right? “I’ll be okay. Sucks that I got all dressed up for this, though. What a waste.”
He doesn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. “Well,” he starts, the faintest blush tinged on his cheeks. “It doesn’t have to be.” 
You stare at him, heart beating faster, making sure you’re understanding him correctly. “Really?”
He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Yeah. Maybe we can get some use out of it.”
“We?”
As if on cue, Reiner emerges from inside their apartment, having heard everything. “Fuck that shitty asshole. You’ll have way more fun with us.” He stands next to his roommate, grinning at you.
This time, you do listen to Pieck’s voice in your head, yelling at you to go for it. To let these two alluring neighbors of yours take care of you the way you deserve. Already feeling better, you give them a coy smile, opening the door to let them in. “Okay, then. Come on in.”
~~~
It’s the first time they’ve ever been inside your apartment, though you save the formal tour for later. As soon as the three of you are inside, door shut, shoes off, they’re both kissing you fiercely. Eren faces you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, hot and heavy. He caresses your sides, squeezing the curves of your body through your dress. Reiner is behind you, grip just below Eren’s, firm on your hips. His lips brush delicately on the nape of your neck, groin pressed to your backside, the bulge protruding from his pants growing harder and harder between your ass cheeks. You moan into the kiss, pussy throbbing in your lingerie, eager to be touched by either man, by both of them. Why did you even bother trying to hook up with strangers online when the perfect matches were beside you all along?
Reiner chuckles, breath hot on your ear, voice low and rugged. “You’re really horny, aren’t you? All dolled up and ready to be fucked, huh?” There he goes again, blunt and straightforward and so fucking sexy, exactly what you need tonight. 
And here is Eren, soft and gentle, committed to kissing you, whispering sweet nothings any chance he gets. “You’re beautiful. Such a gorgeous girl. So pretty for us.” Also exactly what you need. 
You lead them into your bedroom, Eren flipping on the light switch, keeping his lips on you while Reiner strips out of his clothes, starting with his pants. Eren does the same, hoisting his shirt off, revealing his impressive figure. You attempt to slip out of your dress, but Reiner stops you. “Keep it on,” he rasps, down to his underwear now, boner more obvious, poking out from his briefs.  
Eren pinches your butt, snapping the tight fabric to your skin. “We’re not letting this go to waste, remember?”
You nod mindlessly, brain hazy with lust, too eager to be fucked. “Fuck me,” you beg, spit smeared all over your lips. 
They both laugh softly, walking you towards the bed. “So impatient, so needy,” Eren coos, positioning himself in front of you, toying with the hem of the skirt.
Reiner sits up against the headboard, propping you up on his lap, your back pressed to his muscular chest. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teases, licking a stripe behind your ear. “We’re going to take care of you. Right, Eren?”
Eren bites his lip as he works your dress up past your thighs until it’s bunched up at your hips, exposing your soaked thong on your wet cunt. “Oh fuck yeah,” he huffs, salivating. “Gonna make you feel so good. Make you come so fucking much.”
You spread your legs wider for him, a pathetic whine escaping your throat, more and more desperate by the second. He hooks his finger on the crotch of your panties, smirking at the string of arousal that stretches between the fabric and you. “So fucking wet, holy shit.” 
He tugs it all the way off your legs, tossing it over to Reiner, who brings it up to his nose, taking a big whiff. “Such a slut for wearing these on a first date. Our naughty girl.” He lets your lingerie fall from his grasp onto the floor, sliding to the plush of your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart. 
Eren dives in, spreading his wide tongue flat on your clit, moving it side-to-side, stimulating you into your first orgasm. Your knees twitch from the sensation, the pleasure rippling through you like waves of ecstasy. You turn your head towards Reiner’s, opening your mouth, pleading him for a kiss. He obliges, sticking his tongue inside you, slurping up your saliva, hungry for it. “You’re so fucking nasty,” he growls, reaching for the drawer beside the bed. “Bet you have toys hiding in here. Why don’t we have some more fun and play with them?” You whimper wantonly, keen on the idea of Reiner using whatever he wants on you to make you come again. 
He finds exactly what he’s looking for: your precious anal plug, tapered on one end, heart-shaped gem on the other. When he pulls it out, he barks out a laugh, almost like he can’t believe his luck. “You really are a whore,” he whispers in your ear, sinister and wicked, about to have too much fun with this. “Did you prep yourself to be fucked in the ass? Be honest.” Even Eren pauses, peering up at you, curious. 
“Yes,” you mewl, squirming with arousal, body tingling all over.
Eren’s chuckle reverberates against your clit, releasing you from his mouth to lap at your wet slit. “Good girl,” he muffles, collecting your cum on his tongue. “So perfect for us.”
The dynamic between them spurs you on, Eren playing the good guy, Reiner playing bad. Both of them work together with a common goal in mind: to cheer up their pretty neighbor from what would have been a bummer of a night. But already, you’re thankful that you were stood up; you’re certain now that this is the much better alternative. 
“Eren, switch spots with me,” Reiner demands. “And you,” he says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “On your stomach.”
You both obey him without protest. Eren leans against the headboard with a dazed look in his eyes, licking his shiny, cum-coated lips. He smiles as you gaze up at him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him. You open wide, tapping the tip of his dick on your tongue before sinking down on him until you’re too the hilt, swallowing him into the back of your throat. He cups yours cheeks, caressing you gently. “So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. My gorgeous girl.” You accept the praise shamelessly, relishing the distinct taste of him.
From behind, Reiner worships you, squeezing your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to ogle at your fluttering hole. Without warning, he hocks a frothy wad of spit directly onto it, teasing his thumb on the rim. “Fuck, baby,” he utters as you moan on Eren’s cock. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”
You nod, taking Eren deeper, your nose pressed to his groin, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, bracing yourself. The plug is slick with lube as Reiner pushes it in carefully until the heart-shaped jewel is flush to your hole. He swears under his breath, marveling at the sight before him, cock pulsating in his fist. You stay like this for a while, adjusting to the toy inside you. It really did help that you prepared for this earlier. 
“So sexy,” Eren murmurs from above you, staring on your backside. “You take it so good, sweetheart.”
“Like an obedient slut,” Reiner adds, using his thumb to push the plug the slightest bit deeper. He lifts your hips to position himself below you so that you’re straddling his face. “Can you come again, baby?”
“Of course she can. She’s our good girl,” Eren purrs, petting your head softly as you continue to blow him. 
Reiner eats you out sloppily, different from Eren, who’s intentional with his every move. It sends you into another frenzy, pushing you closer and closer over the edge, especially when he begins playing with the plug, pumping it in and out of you slowly. You’re overstimulated with Eren’s hot cock throbbing in your mouth, clit swollen on Reiner’s tongue, and asshole puckered around the smooth glass of the plug. You reach your climax easily, gushing all over Reiner’s face, riding out your orgasm until you’ve completely soaked him in your juices. He drinks it all up, messy and greedy for every drop of you he can scour. He really is as insatiable as you imagined he’d be. 
You release Eren to catch your breath, to which he tips your chin up to face him. “You’re incredible,” he says, the familiar twinkle in his eyes making your heart race. You paw at his chest, crawling up to meet him for a kiss. 
Reiner quickly joins the two of you, not wanting to be left out, rubbing his hard cock between your ass cheeks. You kiss the both of them at the same time, all of your saliva mingling together into a hot, wet mess that you’re currently intoxicated by. After a moment, Eren pulls back. “Does our pretty girl want to get fucked now?”
“Show us how big of a cock slut you are,” Reiner grunts, circling the jeweled end of the plug, teasing your hole. 
Eren helps remove the dress off you completely, hoisting it off your body. He stretches his arm towards the drawer. “Are the condoms in here too?”
You shake your head briskly, bringing his attention back to you. “I want it raw. Want you to fill me up.” 
They both moan, clearly fond of your request, kissing you feverishly. Eren nudges your breast into his mouth, latching onto your nipple. Reiner sucks the skin all along your neck, leaving his love marks, growling, “You want us to breed you, huh? Want all this cum inside these tight little holes of yours. Oh fuck.” His voice is rough and husky, gradually losing his composure. 
Eren’s remains tender, his breath soft on your bosom. “We’re going to breed you so good, sweetheart.” He shimmies down the bed, lying flat on his back, peering up at you with adoration. You straddle him, rubbing yourself on his shaft, needy for friction on your aching clit.
Reiner’s embraces you from behind, groping your chest, focusing on his roommate’s dick and your wet cunt gliding along it. He reaches between you and Eren, fisting his friend’s cock with fast strokes. “Look how hard he is for you. He’s going to fuck you so good. Make you cream all over the sheets.” Your pussy is sopping with arousal from the dirty talk alone, but watching Reiner touch Eren has you dizzy. 
“Fuck, Reiner,” Eren moans, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “That’s so fucking hot.” He lets his roommate jerk him off while you continue to grind yourself on him. Soon, he replaces Reiner’s fist with his own, cockhead glistening with precum. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
Reiner moves to your swollen bud, tapping it with his thick fingers. “Oh yeah, she’s fucking ready. Come on, cock sleeve. Put it in.”
Without wasting another second, you line yourself up with him. Eren slides in smoothly, his entire length in you, pussy stretched around him perfectly. You whimper from the fullness, his cock to the hilt and the plug nestled in your backside. Reiner places his hand on your posterior, urging you to lean down so that your chest-to-chest with Eren, who kisses you passionately, remaining still inside you. “Eren,” you whimper his name, drooling into his mouth. He smiles against you, delighted at how fucked out you are for him.
Reiner adjusts his stance, hovering over you by planting one foot on the bed to prop his knee up, giving him enough leverage. He focuses on the plug, tugging it out just barely only to push it back in, repeating this several times, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Finally, he removes it completely, staring wide-eyed at your gaping hole, oh-so-inviting for his fat cock. “Look at that,” he croons, circling your rim with his finger, sensitive to his touch.
You want so badly to be stuffed full by both of them. In a trembling voice, you whine, “Please, Reiner.”
Laughing, he delivers a harsh smack to your ass, skin immediately stinging from it. He dribbles more of his spit onto you, teasing the tip of his dick on the rim. “Not yet, slut.” You can’t see him, too immersed in kissing Eren right now, but you can practically hear the wicked grin on his face, watching you squirm below him as he torments you.
Eren intervenes, annoyed with his friend’s behavior. “Come on, Reiner. Give her what she wants. She deserves it.” He nuzzles his nose to yours. “She’s been a very, very good girl.”
Eventually, Reiner relents. “You’re right. She’s a good girl. And good girls deserve to get fucked in both holes.” 
You shiver at his perverse words, bracing yourself. At last, he guides himself inside you, filling you to the brim. It’s better than any fantasy you could dream of, the sensation so intense, tears begin welling in your eyes.
They start thrusting simultaneously, Eren pummeling your cunt from below, Reiner pounding your ass from behind. It’s messy and raunchy, their hands slippery all over your body from lube, slick, and sweat. The air surrounding you is laden with lust and desire. The collective moans from all three of you echo off the walls of your small bedroom, along with the squeaks of your mattress creaking under the weight of your vigorous lovemaking. 
Reiner is rendered speechless now, totally concentrated on pumping his cock in and out of your fluttering hole, the only sound from his mouth being his ragged breaths. Eren slips one hand between you, his digits pressed to your puffy clit as he fucks up into your pussy. The other fondles your tit, thumb flicking your nipple until it’s perky. He continues to praise you, constantly musing about what a good girl you are, how perfect you are for them. 
At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. You’re in a perpetual state of ecstasy, surrounded by the two hottest men in your life who are voracious for your orgasms. The sour memory from earlier has completely faded and all you can think about is the sweet bliss you’re currently indulging in. 
Eren is the first to come, no longer able to endure it. His even thrusts turn erratic. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming inside you sweetheart, oh fuck.”
You kiss him languidly, drinking up his moans as he floods your cunt with his load. Soon, Reiner swears loudly, announcing his own climax. “Fuck, gonna breed this slutty hole.” His cock swells, spurting his warm seed inside you.
You relax on top of Eren, who’s equally as spent as you. Reiner pulls out slowly, fixated on his own cum dripping out of you. “Fuck. Let’s see the other one, baby.” You lift off Eren, who almost seems reluctant to let you go. Both of them watch with hazy expressions as his creamy load spills out of you and onto his lap. 
The room is musty with the scent of sex, the sheets messy and stained beneath you. Despite that, you’re on cloud nine, soaring high from having the nastiest ménage á trois with your next-door neighbors.
Maybe you should try getting stood up more often. 
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bluejutdae · 2 months
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Stray Kids + washing each other’s hair | OT8 X you
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notes and warning: just a silly little blurb. 18+ content for Hannie’s
Chan: he’s so tired when he comes back home he doesn’t have the strength to shower and wash his hair but he feels sweaty and dirty, so you offer to help him out. It’s not sexual, it’s intimate and it speaks of adoration. He sits in the shower, legs crossed and head hanging heavy between his shoulders. You’re careful and after a quick shampoo, you spend a couple of minutes massaging his neck and shoulders. He’s tired, tho, so you won’t waste too much time. Out of the shower, he kisses you softly as a thank you.
Minho: he’s a cat. Not a kitten, a fully grown cat who hisses when you try to wash his hair. He almost slips to run away from you, knees hitting the wall and elbow almost hitting your face. “What the hell, Minho?” He looks sheepish for a second, then he’s back to his usual menacing face. You end up washing each their own hair, elbows hitting amidst the laughs.
Changbin: the babiest baby ever. He’s the one asking you to wash his hair, pouty lips and round boba eyes (like you’d ever say no to him?). He just wants to be pampered, is that a crime?? After, he showers you with kisses and hugs, careful not to slip and hurt you both, but he also insists on washing your hair, applying conditioned and delicately untangling your hair. When you’re both dried and ready for bed, he shyly asks if he can try and braid your hair, because he read somewhere it’s a protective hairstyle…
Hyunjin: his hair is destroyed by continuous bleaching, there’s not much he can do to keep it healthy; he likes to take care of yours, though. Double shampoo, conditioner, often even an hair mask, heath protector and oil on the ends. What he likes particularly is to dry your hair, it’s soothing, calm and it conveys how much he loves you…
Jisung: according to him, the perfect position for you to wash his hair sees you towering over him while he kneels in front of you, facing you and smiling in awe. Like this he has a perfect sight of your tits and 9 times out of ten he ends up thanking you by eating you out. And if it makes him just as happy as it makes you, well it’s a win win situation!
Felix: depends on the mood. Half the time it’s a competition on who manages to keep the hair in silly shapes the longer, the winner chose the movie or something equally silly. The other half happens sometimes after a social event, a concert or a long day. he gets into the shower with you to massage your shoulders with the help of your perfumed body wash, fingers diligently unraveling the knots of your muscles, helping you ease a little the neck pain. And it’s only natural to squeeze a dollop of shampoo in his hands and massage your scalp, kissing your shoulder from time to time and singing quietly, knowing you love it and it helps you relax.
Seungmin: do you know those videos of dogs running away from the owner or shaking and drenching them? That’s Seungmo! He lets you lather up his hair but then he puts his head under the water and shakes it to your direction, making you squeak and receiving a smack on his arm. If he is in a extra silly mood he’ll also rub his head in your face, demanding pets.
Jeongin: you can’t touch his head, he’s ready to bite. But, if you had a rough day and he’s particularly sweet, he’ll wash yours, asking you if he’s doing good on every step, hoping to distract you from your worries or maybe hoping you’ll vent to him if you need to… what he likes the most is to wrap you in a fluffy towel and use another to remove as much water as he can from your hair. He loves seeing you all soft and fluffy…
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little-diable · 3 months
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A Broken Down Bike and Racing Hearts – Benny Cross (smut)
Well, I watched The Bikeriders yesterday, and I did warn y'all. I simply have to write for Benny (maybe also Johnny?). I haven't read any Benny fics yet, so this may have been done before. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Benny's bike breaks down right in front of the reader's house, who invites him in to stay the night while a thunderstorm rages outside.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, choking, slight possessiveness
Pairings: Benny Cross x fem!reader (2k words)
Contains no spoilers!
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Her eyes followed his every movement. It had only been a handful of minutes since he had broken down with his bike right in front of her house. No words had been shared between them so far. While he kept fumbling with different parts of his bike, she kept smoking her cigarettes, studying the handsome man with piercing eyes. 
She didn’t look away once, not as he seemed to give up on fixing his bike with a sigh, not as he placed a cigarette between his plush lips with his gaze set on (y/n). Something about him drew her in. Perhaps it was the cut that told a story of brotherhood, of family united by something thicker than blood. Perhaps it was simply the handsome face she wouldn’t mind seeing every now and then. Whatever it was, it urged her on to finally part her lips. 
“I doubt you’ll manage to leave this place tonight.” Her gaze flickered up to the dark sky, knowing that it’d start raining any minute now. The guy wordlessly followed her gaze while blowing out a thick blue cloud of smoke matching hers.
“Is that an invitation to stay at your place for the night?” His voice was raspy, perfectly matching the growing smirk finding its way to his lips. 
“Well, if there’s one thing I know about you bikers, it is that it’s better to have you as a friend than as an enemy. And who knows, maybe I’ll need your help one of these days too.” (Y/n) rose to her feet. She allowed herself to study him for a second or two before turning on her heel to make it back inside her house. The second she crossed the threshold, it began raining as if God himself were urging the stranger to follow her, knowing that this very match would endure all following obstacles. 
The sound of his boots meeting her wooden stairs left her smiling, forcing her to turn back to him as he softly closed the door behind himself. He stepped out of his boots, ran a hand through his golden locks, and let his eyes wander. 
“I’m (y/n).” She softly spoke her name while her feet carried her towards her open kitchen, reaching for two bottles of beer.
“Benny.” It was a simple reply–just his name–nothing more, and yet she didn’t need anything else. She reached the bottle out for him to take, trying to bite down the sharp intake of air wanting to leave her as their hands met. He was a stranger, nothing more than a pretty face, but the excitement his closeness pushed through her, left (y/n) wondering how this night may play out, knowing that she wasn’t one to shy away from an opportunity like this. 
“Are you hungry, Benny? You must have been on the road for a while.” Benny only nodded his head as he took another sip of his beer. He was unusually cautious for a biker–at least in comparison to those she had met before–but (y/n) didn’t mind his calm demeanour, grateful for the comforting feeling he emanated. 
“Do you live here alone?” He plopped down on her kitchen island, letting his feet dangle in the air while he watched her cook. The moment had something homey to it, a domestic atmosphere she hadn’t ever experienced before, torn from a broken home at an early age. Sometimes she had imagined a life like this, with a husband close to love her, to appreciate her like she had always craved. 
“I do. It’s just me around here.” The hum leaving him forced her gaze towards him, unable to bite down her smile at the way he studied her. He seemed to be just as fascinated with her, drawn to the woman who had invited a stranger into her house solemnly because she knew saying no to a biker could end badly for her. But Benny was different–that much she knew already. 
“Must get lonely.” Her tongue kissed her teeth at his comment, trying to hold back from dumping the confusing emotions she had always felt on him. It did get lonely from time to time. But there was no escaping this situation, at least not for now, and she had made her peace with it, grateful that she could live however she wanted to. 
“You get used to it. What about you? Who are you running away from?” The silence that followed her question grew thicker with every passing moment. She was patient, waiting for him to find the strength to speak while she finished cooking their food. The past years had taught her enough about trauma, stress, and fear to understand how much people struggled with whatever it was they were running away from. 
Whatever it was that Benny couldn’t speak of, she wouldn’t force him to let her in, not when she could offer him a safe space for a few hours at least. 
……
“I could take you on a ride as soon as it’s fixed.” Benny was sitting on her couch, feet placed on the small table, as he was nursing another beer. She was sitting close, feet placed in his lap, breaking through the layers that had turned them from strangers to somewhat friends already. 
It had taken Benny almost an hour to let her in, to tell her of the struggles he had faced, the people he was running from, and the fear he couldn’t shake, no matter how fast he was driving, close to bidding this life goodbye. She had listened to his every thought, keeping quiet while he rambled on, finding safety in her closeness. 
“Careful, Benny, you’d have to keep me around for that.” The grin she shot him left him laughing, head rolling back to give the raspy sound enough room to break through him. It was a beautiful sight, leaving her buzzing with heat flushing through her that begged her to move closer. 
Something was lingering between the two, binding them closer together while both waited for the right moment to cross the last line between them.
“Would that be so bad?” It was close to a whisper, rolling off his tongue while he turned his head back towards her. (Y/n) felt heat rise up her spine, whispering to her to give her darkest and deepest longings enough room as if she was drunk off her face, unable to hold back. Benny held a special kind of magic over her, an unfamiliar sensation she couldn’t pinpoint just yet. 
“I don’t think you’re one for keeping women around. And I don’t want to leave this place.” He shuffled around, placed his bottle down before leaning closer towards her. His bright eyes danced over her face while his ringed hand found her cheek, cupping it softly. Benny’s thumb ran over her parted lips, unable to hold back his groan as she sucked his digit into her mouth. 
And then everything happened all too quickly. One second he was staring down at her, and the next she was sitting on his lap, lips locked with his. It wasn’t a soft kiss; it was rough, urged on by their need to be touched, to feel some form of love they hadn’t experienced in months, perhaps even years. 
Trembling fingers worked on one another’s clothes, letting the fabrics drop on the ground while their mouths explored the places that hadn’t been touched in a while. Moans rumbled through them, filling her living room as the last piece of clothing found its way to the ground. 
(Y/n)’s heart was racing, pounding in her chest while Benny couldn’t help but marvel at her body; at every inch he was now fortunate enough to touch. His fingers felt cold against her heat as he pressed her back down on the couch, brushing through her folds to spread her arousal on her pulsing bundle. All while (y/n) tugged on his golden curls with her back arched off the couch and her toes curled in anticipation.
“You’re fucking beautiful, doll.” She barely picked up on his words, too far gone to focus on the praises Benny spoke. His fingers moved fast enough to make black dots appear in her vision, leaving her eyes to flutter while her orgasm crept closer and closer. He dipped his head down to suck marks into the soft skin of her chest, letting his teeth graze her skin to make her feel as if she was burning, set ablaze by his touch. 
“Benny,” she choked on his name. Her thighs were trembling, body aching for the relief he was about to push through her. She wanted to speak more words, wanted to tell him how good he was making her feel, but she didn’t manage to, interrupted by the loud moan clawing through her. 
She came with his name rolling off her tongue, spoken like a mantra she had learned by heart years ago. He kept moving his fingers, circling her pulsing bundle for a few more seconds before letting go. They held eye contact, staring at one another with growing smiles that were glued to their lips. The sound of thunder rang in their ears, followed by the heavily falling rain that rushed down her windows, adding even more intensity to the atmosphere lingering in the room. 
Benny didn’t speak a warning before he flipped her around, only to press her chest against the armrest of her couch. She heard him spit into his palm and heard the soft groan rumbling through him as he pumped his cock a few times before finally pushing into her from behind. Both groaned in unison at the way he pushed into her, spreading her walls around his twitching cock. 
“Feels so good, Benny, move, please.” He instantly gave in to her begging, pulling out of her only to push back in with more force. It didn’t take him long to find a comfortable rhythm, fast enough to leave her choking on gasps, slow enough to give the two enough time to savour every passing second. 
“You belong to me now, doll. I can’t let you go again.” (Y/n) didn’t properly understand what he meant by these words, too focused on the feeling of his hand finding her throat, pulling her into his chest. He tightened his grasp on her throat to hold on to her while he fucked them closer towards their high, knowing that they’d give in soon. 
“Tell me that you’re mine.” He murmured the words against the back of her neck, while he left yet another mark that wouldn’t fade for a while. She was trembling in his grasp, struggling to reply while he softly choked her, heightening her senses. “Speak, (y/n).”
“I’m yours, fuck, Benny, I’ll always be yours.” A satisfied hum left him at her words–a hum that gave her the final push to throw herself over the edge. She came again with a moan, with squeezed-together eyes and her teeth buried in her lower lip. Benny kept snapping his hips against her behind, chasing his own high with his moans vibrating on her skin. 
A deep “Fuck” left him as he came, pulling out of her just in time to paint her behind with his cum. Both were panting, holding onto the couch while they came down from their highs, unable to see through the hazy fog just yet. 
“I mean it, doll, we belong together now.” He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder before he rose to his feet to disappear from her sight. Her mind was racing, her heart was pounding, but no matter how confused she was, deep down she knew that she wouldn’t want to let go of him, following Benny wherever he’d take her.
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xazse · 11 months
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Hey, I have another idea for the jjk men hybrid. So I have been thinking, how about a shy and quiet bunny hybrid fem reader..? You can choose who it would be too. I believe it would be a fun time reading these with various different hybrid for the reader, as well as jjk characters, no? Also, it would be a fluff oneshot for this one ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧
Notes: Hi I hope this is what you meant? different Hybird readers with different men? if you didn’t I think I over indulged. Sorry some of them may be repeated because I kept running out of ideas.
SEPARATE Pairings:Bunnygirl!FemReader, Kittygirl!FemReader, Beargirl!FemReader, Foxgirl!FemReader x nonjujutsu!Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami
Tags: no warnings just fluff! And also the Hybrids are you but with ears and a tail that’s all!
Gojo- and his Shy Bunnygirl!Hybrid
Ever since Gojo had met you in the home for animal hybrids he immediately brought out his black card. He wanted you and you specifically. Though you were sat in the corner looking dazed and bored his first thought was how he could probably transform you into a carbon happy messy just like him! It’s perfect! You’re perfect.
As soon as he brought you home you stood in the door way, swishing on your feet nervous, every move he made was met with a quick freeze of your body watching his every step.
It took a while to get you nice and comfortable but a few months later you’ve been allowing him to touch your ears! You’ll allow him to grab your head and push it towards his lap, while he rubs from the tip of your ear down to the base, it always makes you shiver. Satoru has a hard time reading you, if something displeases you, you don’t outright tell him he has to slowly get it out of you. He doesn’t mind though he thinks it’s cute!
The fluff of your tail when you walk is outright adorable, when you feel his stare on you, you’re so quick to turn away and walk backwards away from him and to your shared bedroom. Satoru has learned that you love being read to, you can read perfectly fine for a hybrid but theres something about you and him in bed while he reads and describes to you what’s happening in the book, you have the most content facial expression every time.
Geto- and his Kittygirl!Hybrid:
You are very well behaved with some exceptions and Geto loves that, you never resort to begging for his attention because he gives you plenty of it, you’re just a well behaved girl.
The place in which you love the most is resting on his back: no literally, Suguru has tried to get you to maybe cuddle with him but you continuously insist to slouch on his back, within a good 10 minutes of him rambling you’re snoring. And moving is just not an option, he feels your sharp nails dig into his back over and over when he adjusts his arm or maybe stretches a little, he’s stuck for a good hour or two.
Your purring drives Suguru to his end, it’s just way too cute. When your in his lap watching movies, if he starts to listen really hard he can hear the deep rumble in your chest before you start to vibrate softly, he moves to bring you closer and give you a small kiss on your cheek.
You love braiding Sugurus hair, the beautiful jet black never ceases to amaze your eyes, the length is well tamed and always well trimmed he never skips a day to take care of it. He’ll have you sat on his lap facing him while you braid the ends and he scratches behind your ears and rubs your tail.
Toji- and his Chubby!beargirl!Hybrid
Days spent with Toji are quite lazy, its mainly you lying on his chest while he watches boring boxing matches, youre so quick to flip your attention somewhere else, he has a hard time keeping you in one place: on his chest whilst he rubs your back , but nooo you see a butterfly on the patio and immediately want to inspect it.
Toji adores your body when you are lying on him, he prods and gropes as a sign of affection nothing more, especially when your chubby fingers are intertwined with his.
Toji can be a bit mean sometimes, especially when he deems something you did dumb, but never has he raised his voice at you. He thinks of it as a funny type of dumb, something that he can easily help you though so you don’t repeat the same mistake. And when you do get it correct with time he’ll rub your ears and praise you: of course he expects praise back for doing a good job of teaching you and you do give him the same energy.
You are laziest slacker ever, Toji takes on almost all the house work, he’d never in a million years think he’d be lifting you off the floor so he can finish vacuuming in that spot just to plop you right back down. You’re even lazy when it’s time to eat, he’s towering over you egging you to come sit at the table all he sees is a twitch of your ear, oh so you definitely heard him but make no attempt to move, he grabs your plush body and walks with you towards the kitchen.
Nanami- Foxgirl!Hybrid
Kento has a hard time controlling or even getting you to listen to a command, he finds you completely impossible. The sweet smile you provided him with through the process of getting you were just all lies and you sure are damn good at it.
Nanami has noticed how much you love the cold, it just makes as an excuse for you to constantly be under him, rubbing on his chest and neck, you don’t offer any room for him to move, glaring at him every time he tells you he has to use the bathroom and no you cannot follow him in there, that’s the little time of privacy he gets to relax and he won’t have it interrupted no matter how much you whine and cry at the door.
Nanami sometimes takes you to the office when he’s really busy and just doesn’t trust you to be alone and not destroy his house from the inside to the outside. So he trudges alone with you behind him: hearing the ding of the elevator and all eyes are on him, then are immediately on you. The office workers absolutely adore you, as soon as Nanami stalks off to go do some important things they’re on you, petting your hair and rubbing all over your ears. Cooing at just how sweet you are (you aren’t) the praise turns you into complete mush with a cute stretched out grin on your face as they shower you with love.
When you’re both done at the office and he hasn’t heard a single complaint about you: he’ll reward with you with some delicious street food; specifically your favorite. He can’t help but have a warm smile on his face as you attempt to coerce him into giving you a share of his food.
Your tail thumps his leg over and over in a sign of every lasting happiness, you lean over to press many kisses to his face because you love him so much.
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mouwrites · 6 months
Text
A little short but you all deserve hugs x
Creepypasta/MH - How They Hug You
Characters: Nina the Killer, Jane the Killer, “Ticci” Toby, Tim/Masky
Nina the Killer
She uses hugs mostly as a greeting
She'll run to you at full with arms wide open, a wild grin on her lips
She practically crashes into you, throwing her arms around you tightly
Depending on whether you opened your arms too as she was running to you, she's either got you in a python grip with your arms pinned to your side, or a bear hug that makes her giggle when you squeeze back
With her cheek pressed firmly against your shoulder, she rocks side to side a little while giving a muffled verbal greeting
She might purposefully stand on your feet if she's feeling mischievous (which she usually is)
And when you tell her to get off your toes she just goes "no 😌"
She holds you for a solid few seconds before pulling away with a grin
Her arms will still be around you, she just leans away a little so she can see your face
She'll stare at you with that lovesick grin for a second before actually stepping off your toes away
Then, knowing her, she'll probably take hold of your hand while you guys do whatever it is you met up to do, even if it was just to unwind at the end of a long day
Jane the Killer
Her hugs are a little more reserved
She doesn't give them out to. anyone really.
But you're an exception :)
She'll give one to you whenever you need it, or just whenever she feels like giving you one
Which is surprisingly often, considering the fact that she doesn't hug anyone else
While she does give the occasional quick side-hug, she prefers a soft and warm embrace with her chin on the top of your head
Even in public—if the girl wants a hug, she’s getting one, she doesn’t care who’s watching
She likes to feel your warmth against her, your heartbeat, your soft breathing...
And she'll tuck her nose close to your scalp, breathing in your scent
It's always a very tender moment when you guys hug
She'll plant a kiss atop your head as a signal that she's about to let go
But she won't let go if you don't ;)
“Ticci” Toby
His hugs are a little bit random when it comes to timing
Sometimes he does it on impulse, sometimes he’s just overwhelmed with affection for you…
No matter the case, his method is pretty consistent
He’ll throw one arm around you, pulling you in first before wrapping the other around your back
He buries his nose in your shoulder, holding your head to his shoulder as well
He’ll take in a deep breath, inhaling your scent
Then he’ll sigh, relaxing against you and loosening his muscles
He’ll stay like that for a moment, eyes closed, just totally relaxed
He might rub your back absentmindedly while he does it too :)
Then he’ll take another deep breath, pulling away as he sniffs
He won’t even acknowledge that the hug just happened, he’ll just proceed with whatever he was doing
Even if the thing he was doing was showing affection for you, he’ll just continue on as if the hug hadn’t even happened
He’s definitely tried to gaslight you about it before: “what? A hug?? I think I’d know if we hugged”
Tim/Masky
I feel like he’d only really hug you when he needed comfort
But he does give quick side-hugs more frequently
Like, you’ll be looking absolutely gorgeous (as usual) and he’ll just have to pull you in for a little side-squeeze and a kiss on the temple
And ofc he’ll tell you that you look nice while he’s at it 😌
But as for real hugs, they usually happen late at night when his thoughts are getting to him
He’ll seek you out, a deep frown on his face as he approaches you
He won’t open his arms to signal he’s going in for a hug, he’ll just get as close as possible and press his forehead against you
He’ll feebly bring his hands to hold your upper arms, and it’s only when you put your arms around his neck that he coils his grip under your arms
He doesn’t squeeze tight; he’s too emotionally tired for that :(
He’ll just hold you gently, trying to lose himself in your scent and the feeling of your heartbeat against him
He won’t pull away for a really long time
Honestly he’ll probably find a way to walk over to the sofa while still hugging
And then you guys fall asleep in each other’s arms :,)
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Thank you so much for reading!! Take care lovelies <33
(divider by saradika)
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papercorgiworld · 7 months
Text
Quiet a long night
Alternatively: Enzo’s deal with Mattheo
Enzo and Mattheo x reader
You can read this request as a summary, because I don’t want to reveal anything else.
Warning: not really a threesome, but still you get fucked by both Enzo and Mattheo, fingering, oral m and f receiving, submissive reader I guess, piv, overstimulationand maybe orgasm denial… I’m not good at warnings, but I’m sure you get it: 18+
Minimal plot, sorry. I hope it lives up to the expectations. I might have strayed a bit from the essence of the request. Not exactly a threesome, but the next best thing I guess, because I honestly believe Mattheo would go mental if he had to watch the woman he loves with another man. I’m going to be honest, I’m a softy so despite the jealousy this isn’t crazy rough, I mean this is just how I write but I did my best.
A/N: If you check out my little masterlist thingy, you’ll notice I added a little currently working on etc. This is because of some changes in life, which have me worried about how much time I’ll have to write so this way you can check up on what I’m doing.
Feedback is always welcome. Happy readings!
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Tears are welling up but you hold them back as you tell Pansy everything that had happened the night before. Sympathetically she listens to your painned voice, while Lorenzo approaches you with a frown on his face as he listens in. “He just walked out and now we’re done. Can you believe it?” Enzo raises his eyebrows and uncrosses his arms to wrap you in his arms. “Mattheo’s an idiot sometimes. He’ll come around. He always does.” You huff through sobs as you break down in Enzo’s arms. “He needs to realize that I am not someone he can toss away whenever he wants to and then come back when it fits him.” Enzo places a soft kiss on your temple, arms still tightly embracing you. You stay in his arms for a while and Pansy who’s been silently watching the both of you chews her lip. “I’m not one to meddle, but if you really want Mattheo to realize that you won’t wait for him every time he gets confused over his daddy and mommy issues, you can always fake date Enzo. I’m sure Mattheo will learn.” With watery eyes you stare at Pansy, but slowly her idea starts to make a lot of sense. When you turn to look at Enzo with teary eyes he really can’t say no. A hesitant breath leaves his lips as he worries about what he’s getting himself into, before speaking up. “What are best friends for if it isn’t for fake dating.” He jokes and you cuddle up to him.
It only took Mattheo two days to lose his patience. He had endured enough of you two and was done watching you with him. You in Enzo’s lap laughing at his goofy acts. Enzo’s hand slowly moving down and resting on your ass. You wrapped in Enzo’s arms while he places a soft kiss on your forehead. Enzo leaning back in the common room just to wrap his arm around you, gently playing with your hair. Your hand on Enzo’s thigh tenderly moving up as he stares at you with adoring eyes. Mattheo was forced to watch it all.
When you and Lorenzo skipped breakfast and stayed in one morning, Mattheo had had enough. With gritted teeth and dark eyes Mattheo walks the hallways of the castle. Berkshire, you worm, you had no right to spend the night with my girl. We’re not together at the moment, but she’s still my one love and you know that, you little shit. Enzo was out of line. “Berkshire!” Enzo snapped his head around to find a fuming Mattheo approaching him. This was bound to happen, honestly Mattheo had held together for longer than Enzo expected him to. “You break it off with my girl, today!” Mattheo pushes Enzo against a wall, but Enzo bites back pushing Mattheo’s hands off of him. “Why would I do that when she’s so much fun?” Lorenzo’s suggestive teasing makes Mattheo’s heart squeeze tight. You were his girl, he needed you back. Mattheo reaches for his wand as his eyes burn with hate and he closes in on Enzo’s face. “You will step back, because I love her and I will have her back. I’ll kill for that brat, so go find someone else.” Mattheo’s voice is ice cold, but he doesn’t cast a curse. Lorenzo relaxes as he watches Mattheo turn away, but as soon as Enzo lets his guard down Mattheo throws a punch, hitting Enzo’s cheek hard, before calmly walking away.
***
Enzo lets himself fall next to you on the couch with a sigh. You immediately spot the bruise on his cheekbone with horrified eyes and gentle fingers, you brush his face. “It isn’t that bad.” Lorenzo whispers and you feel guilt well up. “This was a horrible idea.” Enzo meets your eyes with a comforting smile. He tugs your hand and you move to sit in his lap, brushing your lips over his. “Did he say something?” His eyes fall to his hand resting on your thigh. It takes a moment before Enzo meets your eyes, but when he does you notice how soft they are. “Matt loves you (y/n) and we both know you belong with him… so I guess it’s time we stop fooling around.” You look down to his hand, his thumb drawing soft circles on your thigh, and chew your lip. “What did he say exactly?” You wonder, does Mattheo really love you, does he really want you back? Lorenzo softly brushes his fingers through your hair, adoring your beauty. “It’s what you wanted right? He wants you back and I’m sure that he’s not gonna let go of you ever again.” You wanted Mattheo back so bad, you belonged with him, you were sure of that, but a part of you was going to miss Enzo. “I’ll miss our time together.” You whisper and meet his eyes. A soft smile tugs on Enzo’s lips. “Wish you could have us both?” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, before softly whispering: “Maybe.”.
***
You and Enzo decided to break things off tomorrow. After today’s classes you would have one last date night, which again ended with you underneath him.
You lay on your bed as his hands moved over your thigh, while he kissed and sucked on your neck, leaving small bruises. Your fingers entangle in his hair as you feel his hand slowly move under your dress and up to your panties. “Please, Enzo.” You moan and he traces kisses from your neck to your lips. “Take off that dress for me first.” You push him off of you and while he removes his shirt he watches you with hungry eyes as you reveal your lingerie to him. Instantly he’s back on top of you, his eyes scanning your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His fingers gently trace your bra, hips and thighs, before focussing on your panties. His hand slips underneath the soft fabric of your panties and a finger slides through your folds. “Wet, but not wet enough.” Lorenzo growls and with those words he enters a finger, sinking deep into you, making you moan. Your parted lips are a silent invitation for him to sneak his tongue in and eagerly explore your mouth. Muffled moans fill the room as his finger plays with your clit, making you arch your back and squirm underneath him. He feels your body tense as your orgasm builds up. “Not so quick, princess.” He pulls out his finger, making you whimper before whining. “Enzo.” You whine. Mattheo was right, you're spoiled rotten.
You watch him through hooded eyelids as he traces kisses over your breasts, while his hand sneaks to your back to unclasp your bra. His tongue eagerly moves over your perked nipples and you tug to his hair, whimpering underneath him as sensations build up. While his mouth plays with your nipples his hands are free to move down your panties a little, only separating his mouth from your boobs to carelessly throw your panties on your bedroom room. Enzo places soft kisses over your tummy, announcing his way down. You can feel your core get needy for him as he works his way down teasingly slow. “I beg you, Enz, please-” A soft cry interrupts your plea as his tongue slips between your folds. His hands grip your thigh forcing your legs open so he can press his face hard against your pussy. Soft desperate moans escape you, but it’s not enough for Enzo and his hands move to your boobs kneading them and fingers harshly playing with your sensitive nipples, while mercilessly devouring your cunt.
You cry out Enzo’s name as you buck your hips searching for that last touch to tip you over the edge. He grabs your ass like a brute angling you right so he can give you what you need, his tongue focused on your clit. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you climax with Enzo’s mouth still working your pussy, thirsty to taste your juices. He finally moves away to watch you panting underneath him, slowly removing his pants and boxers revealing his large member to you. You squirm as you realize that Enzo was far from done with you, which only makes Lorenzo smirk as he jerks himself before crawling over you. He looked godly, fully naked and hovering over you, lustful for you.
He kisses you intensely and despite your already wobbly legs you bravely reach for his cock. You stroke Enzo’s painfully hard cock and he moans into the kiss, while you guide him to your entrance. “You’re so good for me.” Enzo whimpers as he slowly moves inside you, loving the feeling of your walls around him. Once he’s settled deep inside of you, Enzo grabs your hips and flips you in one swift move so you’re now on top of him. A cry leaves your lips at the sudden movement with his dick deep inside of you. “Move for me.” Enzo whispers as he brushes your hair out of your face. You nod with your mouth slightly agape and do as he asked. With your hands on his shoulders you bounce on his dick. You start slowly, but quickly try to pick up the pace. Enzo pants and moans as his eyes move from your blushed face to your pretty tits moving in front of him to your cunt taking him so fucking well. You drop your head and soft cries escape you as you struggle to take his full size, feeling him stretch you hard and deep.
As Enzo feels his orgasm approach he curses himself for making a deal with Mattheo. Your walls clench so good around him, he wants you to cum and he wants to cum, but instead he stops your hips from moving. “Get on your knees and let your mouth work.” Enzo clenches his jaw as you look at him with confused and pleading eyes. Was he punishing you for some reason allowing you to feel him inside of you to then take that away from you with any release. “Enzo, please.” You whine cupping his face and doing your best to move on his dick despite Enzo’s strong grip on your hips. “Do as I say sweetheart.” Reluctant you move up, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing as you still so desperately want to cum. With innocent eyes you watch Enzo as you move to sit between Enzo’s legs. His hand makes its way to your hair, caressing your scalp as you open your mouth to taste his cock covered in both your juices. Your legs are pressed tightly closed as you feel your clit throbbing in need of touch, but you ignore your own desire and focus on pushing Enzo’s hard member deep down your throat. Enzo moves your head just a little more, making you gag a little before allowing you to move up and down. You pause a moment to lick and suck his tip before working his dick deep again. When feels himself get close Enzo firmly grips your hair and thrusts upwards into your mouth, fucking your mouth and spilling deep inside of you. Your eyes get watery as you take his load. Surprised by his own harshness he pulls your flustered face towards his. Brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You’re so pretty. So sweet.”
Enzo pulls you close and wraps his arms around you, while kissing you passionately, before pulling away and leaving you alone and naked on your bed. You watch him confused, desperate and vulnerable. With one word from Enzo the key from the door clicks, unlocking it and it only takes a second for the door to open. Flustered and with still teary eyes you watch Mattheo walk in and instantly your lips part as a soft sound leaves your lips. Mattheo feels himself get hard the second he sees your naked body, glinstering cunt and flushed face, exactly how he wanted you. Feeling vulnerable under Mattheo’s piercing gaze you close your legs and look away in shame. Enzo places a soft hand on your thigh, squeezing gently, while his lips move close to your ear. “You said you wished you could have us both.” Your eyes move from Enzo to Mattheo who slowly removes his tie with his eyes still focussed on you. “So I managed to make a little deal with the devil.” Enzo pulls away from you and licks his lips.
“Can I watch?” Lorenzo asks with a playful smile, but Mattheo doesn’t look at him as he steps closer to your naked sheepish figure. “Get lost Berkshire, I’m the boyfriend, you’re the toy.” Your mouth drops as Enzo just grins at you, pulling up his pants and grabbing his shirt, before leaving. With confused eyes you stare at the door through which Enzo just left. You sit still on the bed, unmoved as Mattheo sits down next to you on the bed, watching you carefully while you avoid his gaze, feeling your heart race with anticipation of what is to come. “Don’t be ungrateful.” Mattheo whispers softly, while stroking your cheek. “Open your legs for me.” You part them only slightly as you feel your wetness pool at his words, stimulating your sensitive overstimulated pussy. “Wider, I’m not Enzo, I need to be deeper inside of you.” He immediately inserts two fingers harshly into you. “Berkshire lived up to his word, preparing your cunt for me. It’s soaked.” You whimper as his fingers stretch you and forcefully circle your clit. “I’m still sensitive.” You whimper barely audible, feeling your whole body fill with sensations at your boyfriend’s touch. “You wanted the both of us, love, so now you’ve got to take the both of us, no complaining.” Mattheo whispers harshly with eyes focused on your teary ones as you softly nod.
Mattheo continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, while wrapping an arm around your figure and pulling you against him. He rests his head against yours, allowing himself to take in your warmth and smell. I missed you, princess. You cling to his shirt as his fingers curl inside of you soaking his hand with your arousal. You let your head rest on his shoulder as you whimper at his touch. You missed his touch and warmth so much. “I love you, Mattheo.” You whisper with a shaky voice and watery eyes. “I love you too and I promise I’m here to stay.” He whispers softly before suddenly pulling his fingers away from your needy pussy. “But don’t ever fuck that toy of yours without my permission again or you’ll regret it.” He grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. Your naked figure is shaky as you nod softly, eyes focussed on his dark ones. “How do you want me?” You ask innocently, knowing that pleasing your boyfriend is the only way he will lead you cum tonight.
“Hands and knees.” He states and gets up to undress, while you move to please him. He watches you with longing eyes, while gently stroking your thigh before harshly grabbing the flesh of your asscheeks. “I’ve been hungry for you for a while, so this really isn’t going to be pretty.” Mattheo warns as he grabs his cock and guides it to your entrance to tease you, only brushing his tip through your folds. You spread your legs a little wider and lower your hips in search of more of his touch, while simultaneously grabbing the sheets tightly and arching your back, preparing for Mattheo’s animalistic side. However, he continues to tease you and watch you squirm for a few moments. Angry with himself that he allowed Enzo to have even a glimpse of how good you could be. He needed to fuck you hard and deep and probably more than once to find peace with what you had allowed Enzo to do to you. Without warning Mattheo thrusts into you, immediately earning a cry from you.
Firmly grabbing onto your hips he pounds into you like you’re a doll. You whimper his name as he hits your sensitive spot at a ridiculous pace. In record time your moans go silent as your mouth hangs open, face pressed onto the mattress as your pussy is forced to take Mattheo’s thick cock fast and deep. His eyes carefully watch you and when notices you’re only seconds away from climaxing he reluctantly pulls out, turning you into a sobbing mess and flipping you over onto your back. “Wide.” He demands and you spread your weak legs as wide as you can, ashamed at your own state and your desperation for your boyfriend’s dick you look away as he hungrily watches you while kneading your breasts, thumb moving over your nipple, before slipping his cock back inside your cunt. Mattheo cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes as he pushes himself deep inside of you, watching your lips part for silent moan as he stretches your walls. Softly he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “You belong to me, princess.” He growls and you nod with submissive eyes, before snaking your arms around his neck, while he settles in the crook of your neck. He starts rutting into you again, directly hitting the spot you need him to and finally giving you that much needed orgasm that nearly has you pass out. The blissful ecstasy running through your body helps your overstimulated walls take Mattheo a little longer for him to spill his load into you, something that was only reserved for him since he’s your boyfriend.
Your fingers entangle in your favorite curly hair as Mattheo pants against your shoulder, still keeping his dick inside of you for a few more moments. “I’m sorry for what I did with Enzo.” You whisper and Mattheo places a soft sloppy kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay, princess. I was an ass to you, I deserved it and you deserved a little treat.” You rest your cheek against him, but he moves away a little. “But, I meant what I said earlier. Don’t ever let him touch him with my permission. You’re mine.” You nod knowing he was dead serious, but you can’t help but like the idea that there is a possibility of him granting permission. However, at the moment your body was not in need of another round. “How about a warm lavender bath for the princess?” You nod, eager to lay on your boyfriend’s chest as the warm water relaxes your body. After all, it had been quite a long night.
Bonus?
Relaxed and cleaned, you enjoy the intimacy of sitting together surrounded by the water. You feel yourself dozing off as Mattheo runs the washing cloth over your skin softly while you lay on his chest. He kisses your cheek and you hum at his touch, making him chuckle softly. “I’m glad the smell of Enzo is finally gone.” Your eyes flutter open again as the tone of his voice warns you. “Get up. One last fuck. Then you can rest.” Mattheo’s voice is demanding and you get up reaching for a nearby towel. He follows swiftly and lets his eyes wander shamelessly. The plan was to at least get you to the bedroom, but when Mattheo catches you staring at his hardening member through the mirror he smirks, before pulling your body against his. With your back pressed against his chest, his hand snakes between your legs making him groan and you moan. “Be good for me and maybe I’ll let that toy of yours fuck you again someday.”
Word count: 3414
Picture source Mattheo
Picture source Enzo
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rafedaddy01 · 11 months
Text
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Summary: reader and Rafe are enemies, but their families are super close so they are forced to go on a trip together where they end up sharing a room. One thing leads to another and they end up sharing more than just a room together.
Warnings: smut
Notes: this was a request. It was anonymous so I’m not sure who sent it in but thank you! Btw, I got ALL of your guys’s requests, thank you so much!!! I asked and you guys really delivered. I will get all of them just be patient with me 🧡🥹
You and Rafe NEVER got along. It was a mutual thing.
Anytime your family would gather the two of you would just spend the entire time arguing, about little things.
For example, one time your family was at Rafes house and the way he chewed with his mouth opened bothered you. You kindly asked him to stop and he went off on you. He is such a drama queen.
So when you got the news that your two families would be going camping together… boy oh boy. It would definitely be an eventful weekend.
“Great” you curse under your breath as you try to set up your tent but struggle. You hear snickering behind you and turn to see the eldest Cameron.
You roll your eyes and turn back around.
“Y/n. You’ll be sharing a tent with Rafe”
“What!” You exclaim back to your mother who rolls her eyes at your annoyance.
“Don’t make a scene! Be a reasonable person. You know Sarah has issues with you” you mother explains.
You roll your eyes.
Sarah.
She hated you and for no reason at that.
She could sometimes be worse than her older brother, sometimes.
“Fine” you grumble as you unzip your tent and carry your bag inside.
“Hi roomie”
You roll your eyes as the vein in your forehead try’s to burst free.
“Careful, one day they’ll get stuck like that”
“Good. Then I won’t have to look at you anymore”
Rafe steps back and places a hand over his heart, almost like you had hurt him. “Ouch” he says sarcastically. “And I thought you were starting to like me”
“In your dreams Cameron. There isn’t a bone in my body that could ever like you” your up in his face at this point.
He looks down at you with a smirk.
“Not one?” He asks smugly.
You cock an eyebrow at him
“Not even.. if I do this?”
His fingertips smoothly trail up your waist and arms, coming up to push the hair off your neck and he gives you a genuine smile before locking eyes with you. “Or this..?”
He leans down and places a soft kiss to your neck.
“Ra-“
“Y/n! Rafe! Come out here, we’re getting ready for dinner”
Your moan gets cut off my your fathers voice. You push Rafe off and glare at him as he looks you up and down before turning away and laughing.
“I hate you”
You walk out of the tent and go help prepare dinner.
The rest of the night goes as usual. You and Rafe have your bickering and the rest of the family gets a migraine from it. But something about this bickering is different, it’s almost like… flirting?
At the end of the night your too exhausted to stay up and listen to the adults blab on about business so you tell everyone good night and trail off to your tent.
Rafe was already there and you quietly unzip the tent but stop when you heart soft moans.
“Oh fuck” his voice is quiet but it’s audible for how close you are to the tent.
A smirk forms on your face as you decide to mess with Rafe yourself.
You sit there and listen to him touching himself when he says something that catches you off guard “oh y/n, shit right there”
Your eyes widen as you register what you just heard.
You unzip the tent and push inside, quickly closing it behind you and rushing to rafe.
“What the fuck Cameron!” You punch his arm as he scrambles to get dressed.
“Your disgusting” you go to turn around but are tugged back
“Come on. Don’t say you haven’t thought about it. All this love-hate game we got going is pretty fun, but let me have my own kinda fun now” he leans in to kiss you and for whatever reason you don’t move.
Rafes lips capture yours and it’s.. nice?
He softly groans against your mouth as you open wider and he sucks on your tongue.
“Fuck..” he breaths out as he pulls away.
“This doesn’t mean I don’t hate you”
You quickly tear off your cloths and watch Rafe do the same as you push him down and start straddling him.
“We have to be quiet”
You grasp his hard dick and stroke it a few times as he hisses at you. “Shit”
You smirk as you align it to your entrance and sink down “fuck, rafe”
You stay still for a moment as you try to adjust, but Rafe is impatient.
He sits up and grabs your ass before roughly slamming up into you.
You bite down on his shoulder as you try to keep quiet.
“Rafe” you whisper against his neck as he gets more viscous with his thrusts.
“Shit y/n, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck the best out of you”
You clench around his length as his confession
“Fuck! You like that don’t you. You little slut, like the idea of me disciplining you?” He gives your ass a little swat as you start rocking your hips.
“Shit, rafe” you grab your tits as you toy with the nipples and Rafe watches you with lustful eyes.
“I’m c-close!” You quietly moan as Rafe flips you over and slams into you repeatedly.
You clamp down onto his cock as he swells inside you.
“Fuck rafe, pull out!” You arch your back as your release nears.
“Shit shit shit” Rafe curses as he thrusts once, twice, and on the third time cums deep inside you.
He catches his breath before pulling out and his cum seeps out of you.
“What the fuck Cameron! I told you to pull out!” You whisper-yell as you push him off you and cover yourself with the blanket.
He runs his fingers through his hair and laughs as he lays down on the makeshift bed.
“You better get on birth control because I plan on doing that again”
@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx
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temiizpalace · 20 days
Note
Hi! Can I request for Jamil and Azul prompt 14?
-☀️ anon
☆┊A PICNIC, FOR JUST THE TWO OF US! (🐍 vs. 🐙)
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SUMMARY: GOING ON A PICNIC WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND! MAYBE A CONFESSION IS IN ORDE— WAIT, WHY DID YOU BRING HIM?!
CHARACTERS: jamil viper vs. azul ashengrotto
EVENT MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: no determined end couple, jealousy
NOTES: my favorite enemies get another request. awesome. thank you for your request!
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
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˚∘☆∘˚
a perfectly thought out plan.
azul had it all figured out. today will be the day he confesses to you. every small detail was planned and adjusted accordingly just so everything would run smoothly, he won’t mess up. sleepless nights went into this plot and for the love of the seven he won’t let them be in vain.
here’s how it’ll go in simple terms. first, he invites you to a small picnic by the beachside with his charm and persuasiveness. next, he escorts you like a gentleman and you both start having a lovely time. you’ll be impressed by his well cooked dishes and ask for the recipe. he calculated how likely that’ll be, and it’s pretty high considering he knows your favorite dishes. finally, asking for the recipe opens a window to his confession. he’ll ask you out on a cooking date, to which you’ll accept. oh yeah, it’s all smooth sailing from here.
just as he was about to look for you, the tweels were already a few steps ahead. “azul? you have a guest.” jade smiles, pushing you into the VIP lounge. “less of a guest and more of a hostage.” you grunt, obviously being forced here against your will. ouch. that lowers your mood by 8%! now there’s a chance you’ll reject his offer.. goodness.
“prefect, apologies for jade. i was going to look for you on my own, but..” he sighs, looking at the twin and signaling him to go outside. “if you’ll excuse me.” jade bows, shutting the door and waiting outside. “it’s fine, i know how they can be sometimes.” you laugh, scratching the back of your neck. “so, what’s up?”
this was it. okay, phase one here we go. “w-well you see,” azul stutters, internally cringing at his error. noooo.. he’s supposed to be charming! “i was wondering if you’d like to go on a picnic with me by the shore? i have a few dishes i’d like you to test, so..” he trails off, his cheeks tinted with a light pink. “picnic? that sounds fun!” you smile, making his heart flutter. focus.
“id love to go!” you accept, azul thanking the seven you can’t hear the wild screaming in his head. “splendid! i’ll see you later this afternoon.” he smiles, walking you out of the VIP lounge. “no rush, azul. i’ll see you then.” you waved back at him, the expression on your face leaving the words to hang at his mouth. he waves back slowly, shutting the door.
he flops onto the couch like a fish, burying his face into the pillows while aggressively kicking his feet. phase one is complete, yet he’s already so worked up! such a lovesick octopus. if he wasn’t so flustered, he could’ve heard the tweels giggling as they peeked through the crack of the door, photographing each second for future reference.
at last, the awaited moment has arrived. azul smoothens out the checkered blanket laid onto the sand, ensuring no wrinkles for maximum comfort. he readjusts the picnic basket to the perfect angle, satisfied with the setting he created. the tides were high, but not high enough to wash you two away. the weather was exactly as he predicted, boosting his confidence to further heights.
the excitement he experienced reached record highs, impatiently waiting for your arrival. he has to memorize this entire day, or he’ll regret it. can’t wait to write about it in his diary life record book later. he hears footsteps walk amongst the sand, whipping his head around to face its direction.
you were finally here! thank the seven! he was worried you forgot—huh. “azul! sorry for being late. i ran into jamil a little earlier and asked him to join us.” you happily state, so blissfully unaware of the spot the poor octomer was now put in. “azul.” jamil mutters, almost disgustedly. “jamil.. what a pleasant surprise this is.” azul responds, gritting his teeth.
nooooo.. any other day for this would’ve been great! why on his confession day? seriously?! “why, what inclined you to join us on our picnic this fine afternoon? shouldn’t you be babysit—ah, tending to kalim?” azul raised his brow, a small frown hidden on his face. “i was given permission to join the prefect during lunches. besides, seeing as they were going to meet you alone, i must ensure they don’t get themselves wrapped up in some shady deal.” jamil sighs, examining the setup azul had.
“awh, cmon. azul isn’t like that all the time, right?” you laugh, making both boys hearts sing for joy. “i can assure you i thought nothing of the sort! can’t a man enjoy lunch with a friend of theirs?” azul states dramatically, a false look of sadness on his face. “and i apologize, but i have not prepped enough food for 3, so i believe jamil must join us on the next picnic.” he shakes his head, trying to see if jamil gets the hint.
“don’t worry about me, i have prepped my own lunch.” jamil smirks, holding up a small bag. “it smells pretty good.. enough chatting let’s eat.” you grin, gingerly taking a seat onto the blanket and grabbing your utensils. jamil took a spot right next to you, a smug look on his face as he glares at the boy opposite of him. “wonderful..”
“azul! this is amazing! how did you manage to get the flavors like that?” you exclaim, already grabbing seconds. azul smiles triumphantly as you feasted like a king. he knew his cooking was good, and your compliments feed his ego. “ive taken a careful study at many recipes, and just so happened to enjoy this combination the most! i hope it is to your liking.”
jamil pouts as he eats his dish in silence, switching between glaring daggers at azul and looking at you with soft tenderness in his eyes. “hm? jamil, that looks pretty good. did you make that?” you ask, pointing to the dish in his hands. “ah, yes. a traditional dish from the scalding sands, a classic. care to try some?” he asks nonchalantly, holding his spoon up to your lips. “id love to!”
you take a bite of the food resting in the spoon, the taste catching you off guard. speechless. you were left speechless. “jamil, you genius in the kitchen.” you mutter, the flavors exploding in your mouth. he looks to azul, an tinge of annoyance in his gaze. such a motivational boost. “these were leftovers from last nights party. i can drop some off at ramshackle later if you’d like.” jamil offers, in which you eagerly accept. “really?! that’d be great! grim will be thrilled!”
eugh. azul hates this. he feels like a third wheel to his own date. so not fair. he prepped everything! your focus should be him! this is completely off script to what he had initially planned. date officially ruined. is this how jamil felt during his overblot too? horrible. just downright wretched. “azul, can i have the recipe to the dish you made? id like to try cooking it sometime.” you ask, snapping him from his daze. wait. this question.. this was something he predicted. okay, he’s got this. company or not, it’s showtime.
“why of course,” he replies happily, finding your joyful expression so attractive. “actually, i have a proposition. how about we cook this dish together, hm? that way, i can be of assistance and can ensure you positive results!” he smiles, offering you a “subtle” deal. “that sounds super fun! we should do that!” you accept, nodding your head vigorously.
“jamil, you can join us! you can show me how to make this dish if you do!” jamil shoots his head upwards at your offer, establishing his options before agreeing. “hmm.. we can use scarabia’s kirchen.. very well. i can make preparations right away.” he smiles, much to azul’s dismay. you’ve gotta be joking.
“this is gonna be so fun!” you chime, clapping your hands together. “lots.” azul adds sarcastically, moping as he poked at his meal. not again. he can’t believe he’s getting denied from his crush by a sea snake.
“try keeping up azul.” jamil whispers as they were packing up the picnicking stuff, his anger increasing substantially. just you wait, jamil. that prefect is his.
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A/N: ladies ladies please one at a time (me to jamil and azul)
date published: 9/4/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
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mimiriko · 1 year
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You are increasingly becoming aware that bringing the exact amount of change to the vending machine was a risk. A risk you never make because this particular machine is notorious for malfunctioning and dropping snacks.
It’s near midnight. A lone breeze brushes past and ruffles your nightwear, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You could go back to your room, but there’s a tender soreness in your legs from the days work. It’s too troublesome for the mere purpose of sweetening your mouth.
But your chocolate…
“You’re still up?”
A figure shadows you. You look up to your right, and see the moon in the form of bedhair. Sometimes, he forgoes his glasses when everything is casted in black and slightly easy on his eyes, so you’re met with blue rimmed with snow peering down at you.
“Hungry,” you respond, focusing back on the task at hand. Cautiously, experimentally, you tip the machine further right, small uniform shakes to loosen the kitkat stuck on the edge, an arrow away from a bullseye. Satoru stretches next to you, idly releasing the kinks in his neck. “I wanted to sleep early today,” he bemoans, slumping to your side and stays put, even with you floundering with his weight.
“Quit it!” you yelp, tightening your grip on the machine. You’re finally making progress and he decides to set you back three steps.
“Suguru told me i’m getting eye bags,” he prattles, rubbing at the aforementioned place, “I cannot have eye bags. Imagine that! My perfect sky blue eyes and dull skin underneath. It will ruin my whole look.”
Almost there…you feel yourself going cross eyed from staring at the kitkat for so long. The hook of metal around the corner of the package is slipping, just a little jostle away from setting your chocolate free.
But you stop.
You notice it’s suddenly quiet.
The reflection of the display glass allows you to see him staring just as you are, attentively watching if you make it out of here happily or suicidal. You straighten a bit, weirdly put on the spot.
“Hey…why don’t you just—“ his hands shoot out, shaking it ten times rougher than you.
Your alarms blare. “Wait wait wait—”
Your kitkat is set free.
And you watch it drop to the row below it, on top of a juice box.
“Oh.” He says shakily, a nervous giggle following. “Whoops.”
You turn your face to his side profile, and he pointedly looks ahead. His neck is bared to you, unblemished and devoid of accessories. A solid mark left on him would paint a good picture, an outline of your teeth. It might be the first mark he has ever gotten.
You think of Yaga-sensei, and his strict protocol for punishment when a fight breaks out. Especially when it disturbs others, because you’re definitely sure his screams will bleed to the top floors. You’ll make sure it does. Shoko will give you a celebratory hug for finally giving it to him, but will be disappointed that you would have to miss your lunch together. Utahime from all the way in Kyoto will mail you a gift and you’re pretty sure even Mei Mei would send you some cash.
As if sensing your malevolence, he quickly backs away. “H-Hold on! Look—“ he digs in his pocket hastily and pulls out a note. With sweaty hands he inserts it into the machine, and takes your hand palm up and places another kitkat in your hold.
You stare at it, and then at his pockets. “Give me another.”
You end up walking back to your dorm with handfuls of chocolate and a broke Satoru holding more just for you.
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