#AND NOW HE'S GETTING PUT IN CHARGE OF THE US MILITARY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wowserb0wser · 4 months ago

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“Tornado Wrangler”

A/N: Watched Twisters last night and I was literally drooling in the theaters for David Corenswet and Glen Powell. But Glen my boy has many fanfics written for him, not so much for David!! I am here to change that!! Was like crazy horny when writing this, I should be ashamed but I am not.

Paring: Scott x AFAB reader

Description: you work as a lab tech for one of the companies suppling the "storm par" with money and having to check that everything was going to plan. You expected the tornados to be the most interesting part while being in Oklahoma, but a certain science engineer catches your attention and you catch his. Kate’s not in this one :(

WC: 7.5k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Warning(s): MDI!!! Scott being a meanie-weenie at first but he warms up quickly. Nervous!F!Reader, Smut ahead!!! 18+ Size kink, Dry humping, Dirty talking, Finger sucking, Oral (f receiving), Reasonable age-gap (Scott is 26, reader is 23), Pet names = baby, big girl, Kinda degrading/Not really??, Protected penetration (PinV), Slight!DomScott! + Slight!Sub!Reader!, Scott actually never shuts up during sex. MY BOY IS VOCAL🗣️

You've known Javi ever since he left the military. He was looking for grants to fund his "science project". You just happen to be working for one of the businesses that agreed to give him and his whole team equipment, his pitch was impressive and your boss sent you out to know exactly how their money was spent for this experiment. At last that's what they told you, now being in the field, it seemed more like a punishment for you. Not that you didn't like tornados - you did… but only from behind a computer screen. You were a scientist that primarily worked inside of an AC’ed lab, not the blistering heat of Oklahoma and especially with chasing tornados in person and close.

Now here. Faced with an awkward car ride with Javi to meet the whole team. It wasn't completely awkward with Javi, it's just that you haven't spent such a long time alone with him before this moment. At least he tried to make small talk.

It wasn't much further to the meet up spot. And it was clear that every other person who wanted to chase down a tornado was also meeting at the same spot as us.

Javi parks the truck next to an exact same model and makes it as the one you're in, the only difference was the tag line that separates them from each other, the other was “Scarecrow” while yours was “Lion”. That's when you looked around and saw them. They wore matching white button downs with the small label that was wrapped on your truck and the matching one next to you. It read "Storm Par". You've heard of the company, but it wasn't the company you work for, it must be another company that was lending them money.

One particular team mate stuck out from one another. He was tall - tall as in towering over everyone else in the group.

Javi was quick to get out of the car and open your door, lending you his hand to help you get out and stepping straight into loose dirt that went everywhere. You were truly out of your lab.

You follow closely behind Javi while passing through the crowd, people shouting over each other and country music blasting in every direction. You saw some people gather into a set-up booth with merch that had a specific saying, but couldn't tell what it said from your distance. All you could see was a man standing on his truck with sunglasses and a cowboy hat that covered a good portion of his face. You can hear him riling up the crowd. As you get closer to Javi’s group, you can tell who's in charge already. That person being the same tall man that caught your eyes first.

The closer to the man you pick upon what he looks like, he wears almost blacked out sunglasses and a faded blue baseball cap. His dark hair slightly peeking out the corners of his hat, his eyebrows quite hidden behind said sunglasses and a straight smile that barely showed any interest. It was such a night and day comparison to Javi and everyone else on the team as they put on their bright smiles for you as a warm welcome.

Both of you reach the "Storm Par" group of men. Javi welcomes you to the group all-whistle introducing everyone's names and where they went to school. Stopping before the tall man. Giggling to himself before introducing the man, "And this is Scott. He went to MIT-" Javi giggles again at how Scott's reaction hasn't changed. "No, no, no - He makes up for it. With his beautiful, amazing, personality!” Javi praises and justifies. The stoic deadpan faced man. Javi’s hand resting on Scott's shoulder. A quick smile flashes you clean bright teeth. He looks sharp. The clean white freshly ironed button down compared with the other "hillbilly's with a camera" more dirty and not freshly pressed shirts. Javi pats quickly on Scott's shoulder and puts his hands back down. His earbuds still in his ears, you couldn't tell if he even heard your name. Dark aviator sunglasses hid his expression. His jaw clutches down on a piece of gum.

There was an aura about Scott. Nonchalant, unfazed, calm facial expression that draws you in. His tall figure, being around 6’4ft. His arms pulled together crossed against his chest. His forearms stretching the fabric on the short sleeved buttoned shirt, his skin glistening in the hot Oklahoma sun, he was just lightly tanned. You saw how those arms were built and your eyes started trailing down his torso….

Quickly you blinked away from that thought and continued to focus on Javi's words rather than standing and practically drooling over this guy's physique that you literally just met. But you could feel Scott's eyes lingering on your face for a second longer.

After Javi finishes his mini speech he pulls you to the side. "Look, if you're too nervous about going out there then you can just wait at the motel while me and the crew go out." He offers with a sympathetic smile. You were about to accept his offer but remembered why you were out here in the first place. “No, I think I'm ready to see what our money supports." You retort back. Once hearing you, he laughs and slightly shakes his head, “You're never ready for your first tornado.".

You looked towards the group again and saw Scott and some others looking at yours and Javi’s direction. You knew what they thought. That you weren't up for a challenge, time to prove them wrong.

“So when do we head out?" You say with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sit in the "Tin-man" truck along with Javi and Scott, they both sit in the front seat while you were directed to specifically sit in the back. You were quick to put your seatbelt on and Javi slammed on the pedal to start on their chase. A few minutes pass. The music is barely audible and occasionally Scott said to turn either right or left. While on a straight dirt road you muster the courage to start asking questions, “So what exactly does Tornado chasing intel?". Javi once again laughs, simultaneously thinking about how to explain it as simply as possible. Scott doesn't seem to mind or acknowledge your question. Javi responses, “Okay. We start with looking at our data, thank you Scott, and see where a tornado could possibly occur." He taps on the steering wheel to focus. “What do you mean "possibly occur''?”. You expect Javi to continue answering your questions, but Scott's voice pierce the air.

“It all depends on if the seal breaks by the anvil. Warm air goes up and cold air goes down, this continues to build and some other factors that's hard to explain quickly. " He looks back at you, his blue eyes stare down at you. This was the first time seeing his face without those sunglasses and you surely weren’t disappointed. It causes your cheeks to flood with warming. Hopefully the two men didn't notice. Scott turns his head back to the laptop seated on his lap.

The laptop starts beeping, the screen showing bright colors swirling. Both men start smiling at the screen and start hyping each other up for this tornado.

This was so different from being in the lab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shook in the truck's backseat, hearing Javi and Scott yelling over the roaring tornado that was getting closer by the seconds they were outside. The faint snaps of the radar planting into the ground and heavy footsteps rushing back to the truck. Scott reaches for the middle console and holds a walkie-talkie to his mouth, Javi is already putting the car in drive to get away from the approaching tornado. “Our’s is set. We're coming back! Over!” He quickly speaks into the radio and refocuses back on his laptop to see the already updating data scans.

Scott fists his hand together and cheers a little for the successful radar. Javi joins in and whoops the same. Scott's chest puffs in and out, trying to calm down the adrenaline rush that just came washing over his whole body. A big toothy smile shines, he quickly glanced behind to see if you’re sharing the same amount of enjoyment in what they accomplished. Anticipating the same range of emotions as them. This was your first tornado chase and it being so successful out the door was a great performance.

He was shocked to see you clenching the doors handle for dear life with your eyes shut. At first he thought you were hurt but then realized that you were scared of the tornado that is several hundred feet behind you, still chasing you, but from a safer distance. He snaps his fingers and quickly thinks, “Hey!” Snap. “Look at me. You are safe, we are getting out of here.” His quick words make you open your eyes and lock into his, his calm exterior puts an odd sense of ease in your nerves though you know you weren’t completely away from a dangerous tornado. Again, those dark blue eyes barrow into yours. “Okay.” You softly respond back and slowly pull your fingers away from the door handle.

Steading your hands with some deep breaths. Javi also comforts you, “That was just an E-F 3, that was easy peasey! Nothing to be scared of! We’ll be with the rest of the gang in a few minutes.” He smiles in the reflection in the rear view mirror, still focusing on the road ahead of him. You just nod along and breathe deep. Scott watches you for a little long to make sure you don’t work yourself into a panic attack, partially because he really doesn’t want to deal with a stranger going crazy but because a small part of him doesn’t want you to have a panic attack.

Thankfully it wasn’t long till you all were back to a shitty Motel which was the meeting spot to review their new information being downloaded and importing it into a 3D model. Which happens to take a couple of hours to do so, but this Motel happens to be next to a little Ma and Pa diner. Many other tornado chasers ended up at the same Motel, there was already a crowd forming and music playing when you stepped out of the truck to get fresh air.

Without another word, your feet start moving to the Diner. Food and some soda should help.

You were a couple of feet away from the entrance when you heard running footsteps, looking back to see if you needed to move out the way for said runner but was pleasantly surprised to see Scott rushing over to you. Once you make eye contact, or suppose eye contact because he was wearing his sunglasses once again, he started to slow down and his long legs didn’t take long until he was close enough to speak.

His face is still straight and unbothered, he pulled his earbuds off to the side, “Was wondering where you were off so quick.” Was there some cheeky tone laced in his question? You look back forwards the Diner and smile back at Scott. “Maybe a greasy burger will put my mind to ease.” You quip back and turn your heels back in the same direction as before, “Want to join?” You ask as you're already walking to the entrance.

After ordering entries and drinks you both sit at a booth that sits next to a picture window that looks out to the mostly plain fields and hanging decorative lights connected to posts around the Diner. This town in Oklahoma was quaint, without the tornados you would consider this to be perfect.

Turning your head to face Scott, he took off his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. His eyes drift towards yours once he notices that you were looking at him. “I don’t think you're made for this.” He shamelessly speaks, unsure why his words hurt you more than when Javi accused you of the same. But hearing it after the chase stung more. A small frown on your lips. Scott was quick to speak up again before you could respond. “Not saying this to be mean or rude, but what we do is dangerous and I can’t have someone freaking out all the while. I can’t focus on our job when you’re having a panic attack in the back seats.” He explains with some condescending attitude but mainly because he was still frustrated with caring slightly about you.

He couldn’t deny it. He found you rather attractive, your demeanor being a little shy but he could tell you’d warm up quickly. First introduction catches him so off-guard, your smile so bright and your voice as you say hello to everyone. ‘Such a pretty girl’ he thought as his eyes looked you up and down quickly. And he swears he thought he caught you checking him out as well. But seeing you so scared made him nervous to be in the truck, he wanted to grab you and comfort your worries away.

“Wow. No sugar coating for me huh?” You softly giggle an exhale. You knew he was right, it sucked to hear it though. “Cut right through the bullshit.” You further say and stretch your arms out to find some sort of relief. He laughs at you cursing, it was the first time hearing you curse and to be frank, it wasn’t threatening whatsoever. He found it amusing, you were cute. Especially because from his outburst your cheeks are flushed with pink embarrassment. “I don’t mess around.” He tries to play, a sly smile on his lips but you groan and put your hand on your head without seeing it. “I thought I could handle it.” You mutter into your hands, your voice sounding disappointed. Now Scott felt bad for speaking.

Quick on his feet, “Remember what Javi said; “You’re never ready for your first tornado.” You just needed to experience it.” You drop your hands down to the table and look back at the man across from you. His jaw goes up and down while chewing the same piece of gum. Staring at his lips for a few seconds before your eyes trail back to his eyes but there was a certain glimmer when your eyes connected, a smile curving his lips.

Gosh. You had no clue why every single thing he did made you have a visceral reaction. Simultaneously he knew what he was doing.

Food is placed down on your table and your mouth watered at the sight. Before you could reach out and take a bite of your anticipated meal, Scott’s voice speaks up again. “Be honest, why did you agree to come out here?” He manages to say before grabbing his hamburger and taking a greedy first bite. You shove a couple of fries in your mouth before answering. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Tornados, I find them so interesting and a strange natural occurrence. But from a safe distance, in my lab where I can do research rather than going out in the field.” Your stomach growls at you for not taking a bite of your burger that sits so patiently on the plate. “I totally agree on what you guys are doing, I want to help people too! I just don’t think I was built for wrangling tornados like you. Plus my boss dragged me out here.” You chuckle while biting now at your food. Already feeling better or maybe it was the company of Scott that put you to ease.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On your way out of the Diner you are met with boots taking a long stride towards you and Scott. Those boots belonged to a flannel clad gentleman with a cowboy hat tilted slightly out of his face. He was clearly built and flashes a dashing smile in your direction. You could practically hear Scott rolling his eyes before the guy even got a word out. “Clipboard! I didn’t know they made scientists so pretty nowadays.” The man lowly whistles at your appearance, you quickly caught on to the ‘Clipboard’ nickname he gave Scott. “Get back to your YouTube channel Tyler.” He puffs out while sliding back his sunglasses. The cowboy named Tyler stops in front of you, quickly glancing between the two of you. “What’s your name little lady?” His voice is oddly sweet and not patronizing. You tell him your name and he softly repeats it back with a smile.

“Well then, come find me when you’re done working with a bunch of pencil pushers.” He lowers his sunglasses and sends a wink your way before walking back toward the Diner.

It was so quick you hardly noticed how Scott stopped chewing his gum and clutched down hard on his jaw, teeth slightly grinding. Turning to face Scott again, “Who the hell was that?” Your laugh pulls Scott out of his train of thought. Hearing your soft giggles at the interaction makes him almost forget why he was even frustrated in the first place. “Just one of those Hillbillies with a YouTube channel. He especially likes to throw fireworks for theatrics.” His sigh was heavy as he continued forward back to the Motel and not answering any other questions you had about Tyler.

It wasn’t long before getting back to your room. Scott dropped you off and went back to the rest of the team to discuss the 3D model, he hoped it was long enough to fully process and get a look at the models.

Following the next few hours held up in your Motel room, it wasn’t anything fancy. A small TV that frames the adjacent wall from the bed and a dingy chair and desk, the bathroom was next to them and was brightly lit by yellowed lights. Definitely not dreamy, but this was a company's purchase for the crew so you couldn’t complain.

You slightly jump out of bed when you hear a loud bang from your door. It started storming a little while ago and just thought it was a branch slamming on your door but then you heard another knock. You weren’t going to sleep but put on your pajamas and laid down to doom scroll on your phone. You're fast on your steps as you reach the door and open it slightly to see who was knocking. You were so surprised to see Scott behind the knocking.

“Well welcome back.” You greet as you open the door for him, gesturing for him, “Come in, come in.” You smile at him. You turn to go back to lounging on your bed. While doing so, Scott gets the chance to take on your appearance. A matching set of pajamas that fit your body perfectly, he swallows heavily at the sight. It was possible that he was so pent up from being out in the field for multiple weeks and hadn't been with a woman during that time either, now here you were. So sweet it’s sickening and so pretty sitting down on the corner of the bed, looking up at him with almost doe like eyes. It’s driving him up the wall.

His hands rest on his side while stepping in your room, closing the door behind him. He was slightly damped by the rain and wind outside, he breathed in the air around him. “So what brings you by? Is there another Tornado that needs to be chased?” You ask, slightly anxious to hear his response. He sees your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Oh, no. I just wanted to let you know that the model is up and running. Plus, my room’s power went out.” He explains, in the meanwhile he looks around your room, he also seemed nervous.

You nodded and were about to respond but he cut you off, “And I wanted to check up on you.” He stretches out the “and” like he was contemplating on finishing his sentence. You were pleasantly taken aback. It was nice that he was seeing if you were okay. You were flustered nonetheless and blushed. “Oh mister big and stoic is concerned for me?” You playfully jab at his demeanor, he’s quick to your mocking behavior. Again he slides off his sunglasses and places them in his shirt pocket, he hangs his head down and laughs. “Alright I’m going to go now then.” He teases back, there’s a small panic behind your eyes, you didn’t want him to leave.

“No- I mean you can hangout for a while if you want. I’m not doing much. You can wait here till your room gets power again.” It sounded just as pathetic in your head as it came out of your mouth, desperate to get more time for him. He caught on to it, “Yeah?” A small smirk crept on his lips. His figure coming closer to you, his large frame tower over you. It did something to you, “Yeah.” Your breathing hitched in the back of your throat, causing you to swallow down hard.

He was taking so much space, almost suffocating. “Tell me, were you checking me out when we first met?” He was testing the waters, what kind of response were you going to give him. Either it would be welcoming or dismissive, but the way blush started creeping up your neck to your cheeks he could tell. “What? No, I mean- no. Why are you asking?” You clearly flustered at his question and lied right through your teeth and it was so obvious. “Okay.” He bites down on his gum and smiles down at you. He quickly sits next to you and faces the TV. Ignoring what just happened between the two of you, riling you up in the process.

Ignoring the building tension, “What are we watching?” He nonchalantly asks, his gum smacking in his mouth. A smug look plastered on his face watching you try to regain your composure. Skipping over his previous statements. “Um… T- The news about the weather tomorrow.” You blink. He then reaches up and takes off his baseball cap, his hair ruffles out in some crazy hat hair before he shakes it out with his other hand. His brown hair flows softly down. It’s then you take in his scent, slight sweat lingers but you can smell his cologne, it smelt like an ocean side with a hint of sandal wood. It fit him perfectly and drank up the scent to fill your senses. This man was something. His cocky attitude, his demanding presence, oddly quiet demeanor. Everything about him was causing your brain to lag. His clothes cling slightly to his body due to them dampening from the outside weather.

You tried your hardest to pay attention to the television ahead of you, you really did. But with Scott next to you, the storm outside, y’all’s conversation. It was too much for you to handle. His white button down was a bit dirty from the chase earlier from today and now cling wrapped around his arms, chest, thighs. Your mouth watering again while you ogle the man before you, it was wrong, so wrong. Hell you were technically his superior as he worked for your company, but right now it felt like he held all the power.

Then boom. A loud bang crashed against the ceiling, the storm getting heavier. It spooked you enough to jump beside you, trying to find some sort of comfort and gladly Scott gave you that. His rather large hands are quick to rest on your shoulder, sliding up and down to ease your concerns, “You’re alright, it’s just the wind. Nothings gonna’ hurt you.” He shushes in a low tone which calms you down. Though his clothes are wet and cold, his body is hot. Feeling how warm he was as you pressed deeper to his touch.

Your eyes shift from being closed to looking up at his, then glancing down to his lips. He mirrors you, both of you leaning in closer. "We shouldn't." You aimlessly try to guide yourself back into reality but your body caves. His lips ghost over yours, “Can I kiss you?” He softly asks for permission, his whole body aching waiting for your response, but didn’t have to wait any longer as you pressed your lip to his. His other hand reaches for your face, cupping the back of your neck while his other latches to your waist. Practically pulling you on top of him. You gripped his collar to stabilize yourself and followed his direction.

He pulled you on his lap, finding it comfortable. Your hands continue to grasp on to get some leverage but find it futile in the long run. The kiss begins to become heated by the seconds, occasionally breaking it to pant out quick breaths. He was taking over all your senses. Making it hard to focus on anything but him.

Scotts lips leave yours and make their way down to your neck. His attention to make you feel more than comfortable was overpowering. Your hands have a mind of their own, snaking up to his head and gently pulling his hair. Your eyes screwed shut, he watches your reactions - to see what causes the most pleasure. His hand moves around your body, around your hips and butt, around your chest groping your boobs. That seems to get some whimpering out of your lips. "You're so pretty like this." He tells in your ear, causing a shiver to go down your spine. Your legs squirm around his, trying your hardest to find some pressure to grind down on. Your head rushes with blood, finding it hard to wrap your head around pleasure. "I mean you're pretty regardless, but fuck." He groans through his teeth.

You moan into his mouth as he captures your lips for another kiss.

“Be honest with me again.” You nod, slightly still ditzy after that heated kiss. “Were you staring at my arms earlier?” There’s a slight teasing tone- actually, more like a cocky tone. He was still on about this. You nod your head a little sheepishly, having to admit it made it feel shameless. “I knew it! You were checking me out! Thought I caught you, but I wasn't sure I was making things up in my head.” He barks out a quick laugh and continues to kiss up your neck, drawing more airy moans and some giggles.

“What, no smart-ass response huh?” He teases. And he was right, you couldn't think of any kind of response, your mind is fogged up. Mewing out was the only response as he found the spot on your neck. He continues to work you up, all while dry humping him, your pajama shorts riding up in the process. His clad trousers gave the perfect mount. His growing erection being more prominent and pressed tight in his boxers and pants, now with you moaning in his ear and grinding on him shamelessly.

You did try your best to quiet down, even with the storm outside these walls were thin and god forbid if any of you teammates heard what noises were coming from in your room, there would be no question what was happening between the two of you. But his hands and mouth on you made you uncontrollable. He thought quickly to fix this predicament. "Shush, baby, no more whining. Here - here" He coos, moving one of his hands and sticks his index and middle finger in your mouth. Shutting you and your withering moans up. Your mouth drooling over his digits. Your eyes are half glazed over, if you had the consciousness to see what you looked like you’d be ashamed how easily you were subdued. Falling under some sort of submissive headspace. It was so quick you hardly noticed it happened, but maybe you wanted this for a while now. Especially after the rough and exhausting day you had, you just wanted someone to take the reins in for you.

And now the pet name, you wanted to hear him call out for you with that every time from now on. "Look at you, such a desperate thing you are, huh? Isn’t that right baby.” You nod aimlessly, his fingers pressing down on your tongue. You were putty in his large hands, not that you were complaining. Your hands fumble with his shirt's buttons, at a sad attempt to take it off yourself. He thought of mocking you once again for this poor attempt but chose to lend a helping hand. Assisting with the majority of buttons you and him manage to take off his uniform top, catching a look of his chest you moaned again. He was cut with a light amount of chest hair, your sounds muffled with his fingers. It was hard to calm yourself, you were like a dog in heat, nothing was quite satisfying your needs yet. You needed more - more of him. "Fuck'n hell. You are just so needy." His hair crazed by your frantic hands, lips were bright pink, and eyes half lidded. Talk about needy, he wanted you with the same amount of passion.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a groan of frustration comes out of your mouth. “Please, please, please.” You aimlessly beg. For what? You and him knew, for him to finally fuck you rather than all his teasing. But Scott needed you to verbally admit it to him. “Huh? What do you need? Spit it out.” Again the condescending tone loud and clear, he does this to rile you up. For knowing him for such a little amount of time, he knew how to press all the right buttons. "Please, I need you." you mutter in his ear while closing your eyes and pressing your head between his shoulder that meets his neck. It was more like a whimper than begging but the overloading sensations were driving you in a haze. Still humping his leg, it was quite a sight that even left Scott to groan. But he can’t let you off that easily, that would be too nice. He kicks off his shoes and socks, preparing for the inevitable.

"By “I need you”, that really means that you want me to fuck you.” Taunting you even further, you squirm under his grasp at the boldness his words were. You nod your head, knowing your voice would betray you.

He acknowledges your approval and lays you backwards towards the bed. Your head close to the edge and him by the pillows, he rests on his knees. His body still covered most of your space, he was just so big. "First we're going to take off this little matching set." His voice sounds airy, your legs spread open to invite him to get even closer to your body which he gladly scoots in. His hands reach for the hem of your top and pull it flush off your body. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting your hot body. Closing your eyes at the sensation, you were quick to discover that Scott leaned down to give each of them a kiss. His hot tongue swiftly swirled around your left one, but he didn't stay long as he gave the same treatment to your right. You watch him, his eyes never leaving your sight.

His lips travel down your sternum to reach your belly, he peppers kisses along the way, all while giving you short praises. All of his words make you pant.

Reaching your matching shorts, he slips both hands up your thighs and grabs the hem to pull the shorts off of you. Once off, you were left only in your panties. A small spot clearly dampened in the center, it would be embarrassing to you normally but you were so aroused. He practically moans at seeing it. Knowing he worked for you enough. He continues to scoot back so he could comfortably lay his head on your thighs. He takes in your scent, fingers loop and starts pulling your panties off. You throw your head back from the anticipation, then a sharp swat on your inner thigh makes you pop your eyes down back at him. "Eyes on me, you better watch me eat you out." The tone being similar to the voice he had in the truck when he calmed you down, it was assertive and demanding.

You clench down on nothing and start to squirm, he rubs the spot he smacked and gives you a soft kiss, it felt like an apology. He breaks his gaze and looks at your cunt. It makes you a little nervous at first, closing your legs at first, but he tells you off. "What? You're shy now?" He tisks, looking back up at you. Almost like a warning. "You were just begging for me to fuck you." His words made you gush, you could feel how hot your cheeks were burning. Your voice squeaks, "I'm sorry." This apology makes him stop, "It been a while since she's gotten some attention huh baby?" He questions but already knows the answer, yes it has been a while. Referring to your pussy as "she". You nod as an answer.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take care of her and you." That cocky attitude shines bright while he begins his work. His lips kissing the skin around your desperate cunt. Some dragged out moans are flying past your lips, it really had been a long time since being with another person, especially someone who knew how to get you this excited.

Unwarranted your hips buck at his face, your body was fed up by all this teasing. His hands pin down your thighs, stopping you from future bucking.

Those pink soft lips finally make contact with your most sensitive part of your body, causing you to yelp. He found this adorable, already moaning. It was blissful, he knew what he was doing. Circling his tongue. Now and then flickering down to your cunt, your hips try to wiggle but his strong grip holds you down at his mercy.

Your hands go from covering your mouth so you didn't tell from the pleasure, to the comforter, to his hair to pull him closer. You continue to stare down at Scott as he does his work, trying your best to not thrash your head back and groan. But by keeping your eyes open you can see him grind down on the bed, he was getting off from eating your pussy. And rightfully so in his opinion, you tasted amazing, if he could he would keep you here for an eternity without any complaint.

While tongue fucking your hole, his nose brushes against your clit. Sending shock waves throughout your body, making you a moaning mess. Chanting his name with pleas and curse words. A tightness builds in the pit of your stomach, your thighs close his head between them. Keeping him in this position. Your back to begging, babbling out slurred sentences barely coherent with moans breaking mid way through and you losing your train of thought.

It was almost amusing to see you this unwired, usually you were a very punctual person. Now here you were cumming all over a man's face that you met less than 24 hours ago. A man you only know his first name, but Scott was something over worldly. Your voice pinches in a high note as your climax racks through your entire nerve system. Screwing your eyes tightly, blinding white light flooding your vision.

Hell, he almost came in his boxers watching you cum. Watching tornadoes for a living was thrilling but seeing you come undone with just his tongue was 10 times more exciting for him. Now he needs to see you cum again but this time in his dick.

Fluttering your eyes open to your own personal show, Scott lifted back and sat up right. He's focused on unzipping his pants unaware that you lifted yourself on your elbows to watch. Once he spots you, he pulls out his wallet from his pants and takes out a condom that was tucked in a sleeve. 'How cliché' you think. One hand pulls down his pants and boxer while the other rips open the condom wrapper. A simple act being so seductive when he did it.

Your eyes could contain themselves from peaking down at his dick. The tip was hot pink, pebbling pre-cum down his shaft. He was a big boy. You were practically salivating at the sight, he almost laughs at your drooling. He rolls the condom on swiftly. "How do you want to do this?" His voice piercing your ears, looking back at his blue eyes. You were puzzled at the question, he simplifies for you. "What position?" He states it obvious, but not rude.

Without a second thought, "Can I ride you?" He groans loudly at your words. But regains his composers, "Of course you can baby." He smiles, his gum still smacking against his teeth. You had completely forgotten he was even still chewing gum. He lay down on the pillows beneath him. His teasing manner doesn't affect you as much, you were determined to give him a good show. Meanwhile you crawl your way between his legs and settle to ride this tornado wrangler.

His chest heaves, he was so much larger than you. Your legs just about wrap beside his hips as you position yourself. Bending over his tall torso you plant a kiss on his jaw, leading to his lips. He kisses you with a passion similar to a fire, your hands drop to his chest to steady yourself. Pulling away and reaching below you.

A sharp hiss slips past his closed teeth, your hand wrapping itself around him. Your hands were soft, unlike his, the feeling being unfamiliar to him. You found pleasure from watching his face scrunch up. Lining yourself and making your way down. His large hands grip on your waist at the contact.

A choked moaning rips through your throat. Fuck it had been a while since you had a dick up in there and the stretch was unwelcoming with a full sense of pleasure. "That's it." He groans while his head is pressed down on the pillow.”Holy shit baby! You are squeezing the shit out of me.” A mixture of a chuckle and moaning follows behind his words. "Relax baby, let me in." He breathes heavily, lifting his head up. Scott's hands grip harder on the small fat on your hips. Stilling your moving till you start relaxing your muscles.

“I know, I know. Just a little more baby, c’mon you’re a big girl." His voice is hoarse. You could have come from that voice alone. You slow your movements, focusing on your breathing and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once your body's are flushed, your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You couldn't make a noise. Now was his opportunity to be a moaning mess. The way your cunt swallowed his cock was velvet, you were causing so much pleasure, he was almost lost of words. Almost.

"You better ride baby." It almost sounds like a threat. His unwavering pissy personality showed true and you couldn't say no, you did as you were told.

Lifting yourself up and letting gravity do the rest of the work. You started slow at first. You were still adjusting to his size, he was heavy in your cunt.

That slow pace was short-lived as Scott's hands dragged you back and forth. His grip was bruising, his jaw clenching down while watching how his cock is meeting together with your pussy. You looked quite spectacular from his laid position, your palms flat to his stomach, your tits bouncing up and down with you. The faces you make, filled with nothing but unadulterated bliss.

He's held on for the best he can, letting you get a couple of minutes for you to be doing mostly all of the hard work. But his knees bend behind you and he lifts you slightly above his hip. Then he begins his own rhythm to fuck into you, thrusting his hips and greedily taking you. Not that you were complaining. The air is knocked out of your lungs, ending up at a silent groan, helping with your noise control.

The incessant, slapping noise of him rutting in your cunt was loud. Though you tried to contain yourself, it was impossible that the rooms parallel to each side of you didn't know what was happening. The small room is filled with flesh meeting, heavy breathing, groans and moans. "Feels fuckin fantastic, you love this big dick in your little pussy." He can't help but voice his thoughts, unwavering. You wordlessly nod as he continues, "Huh baby? Fuck'n shit. This pussy is going to be the death of me!" He rolls his head back, stalling his thrust momentarily. Soaking in the way your cunt squeezes him.

Gaining more air to your lungs you can finally moan out his name, sounds like the angels from above calling out to him. if he could hear his name come out of your mouth continuously then it might just be heaven.

Again that tightness is winding up quickly. Even more intense than your last orgasm. Trying to shut you up now was going to be an impossible hop to leap through, yet at this point both you and Scott were so focused on each other and blocking the outside world, you could care less when your combined moans.

As your own orgasm was approaching, you could tell Scott's wasn't that far behind as you. His movements become irregular and his knees start to buckle from losing momentum.

It was all a blur when your second orgasm ripped through your whole body. You collapse on the 6'4ft man, your whole body shakes above him. Your head spins, it feels as if you were drunk. Definitely drunk on his cock.

When you come to, he is lifting you back to the side for him to pull out. His condom partially filled with his semen, he knots it before discarding it in the small waste bin by your night stand. The storm outside still roars loudly, you're glad you're stuck in your motel room with him.

He lays back down on your bed, "I think I just died a few seconds ago, I've come back to life." Scott exclaims, his pupils expanded to almost cover the blue hue, rather they were almost black. He really was coming down from such a high.

Shallow breathing through your nose before turning to face Scott. His face looks so fucked out, no doubt you look the same. His hair is wild and there are faint lipstick marks on his face and neck caused by you. "I haven't came that hard in months." You were still breathless from what he had done to you. "I can say the same." Dry and quick laughs come from both of you. “You made me swallow my gum.” You still try to compose yourself.

Both of you lay down under the covers of the Motels comforter. Lazily turning your head in his direction, you could easily fall asleep in his arms right now. He holds you close, his body warm surrounding you in a comfortable state.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stay the night?" You ask, similar to a plea. And how could Scott say no to that face? That was short lived, "I need a big strong man to protect me from the storm." He watches you giggle, amused by your own joke. It was laced with faux concern. "Only because your room has power." He pokes fun back. You were giggling at his joke.

Your laughter comes to a halt when the lights above you and TV shut of. f all of a sudden, causing you to jump back into Scott's arms. He's once again amused, "You know you're really jumpy for a tornado lab scientist." He quips back. You try to act hurt by his comments in hopes of retracting his statement for an appraisal instead, but he saw right through your act and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

You stayed together until the morning.

#scott twisters x reader #twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x reader smut #scott twisters x reader smut #scott twisters #david corenswet #david corenswet x reader #david corenswet x reader smut

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 1 month ago

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Collars of Duty 1

Hybrid!Simon x reader - Chapter 2 -

When a new problem hybrid is brought to the rehab center, you're called in from medical leave. Having been through hell he's classed as dangerous but you believe he deserves a chance. Hopefully you both can heal each other without adding to old wounds.

I dedicate this story to @kiwiimochi because they said they'd be interested in a story like this. I hope you enjoy and you're welcome to tell me what you think.

Content: hybrid AU, brief description of wounds, allusions to torture

The call comes through in the middle of the night, ripping you from deep slumber that for once was peaceful.

You wake with a gasp, heart immediately racing to outrun the invisible danger. It takes you a few seconds to blink the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. You’re at home, in your bed. There is no danger around, except the phone that rings impatiently in your bedside drawer.

You recognize the ringtone. It’s your work phone, which hasn’t rung in weeks even though you always keep it on and charged. It’s slightly unsettling to hear it ring at such an ungodly hour. It’s freeing too, to realize that your heart slowly calms down and you do not spiral into a panic attack.

Yawning your reach into the drawer and open it, getting the angrily vibrating phone and hold it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“We need you here.”

You’re stunned into silence. Everyone knows you’re on medical leave. They should know better than to call you in randomly during the night. They -

“Like right now.” You recognize Elizabeth’s voice and your heartrate skyrockets again.

“Liz, you know that I’m on leave. You know wh-“

“They want to put him down.” Her voice interrupts you, full of urgency.

That has you sitting bolt upright. Putting down hybrids has been illegal for years now and the center mostly adheres to those laws. Mostly, not always and when they don’t they usually have a damn good reason not to.

Working at a government managed rehabilitation center for hybrids meant that sometimes they put their decisions above the law.

You’re already out the bed and stumbling around the room while trying to get dressed one handed.

“I’m coming. Anything I should know?”

You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your ear so you can use both hands to pull on your pants. The short pause strains your nerves. She wouldn’t have called you if the others could handle whatever was happening.

“Liz?” You prompt her.

“Belgian Malinois hybrid. Military. They found him after he was MIA for moths. Severely malnourished, signs of torture all over him. No idea how they managed to get him into a chopper and bring him here, but he is here.” She rattles down and if you didn’t know her better you’d think that she doesn’t care. But you do know her better. Staying professional helps her not to break down with cases like this.

Hectically you tuck a shirt over your head, gather your things and basically run out the door. When you started working at the center you moved as close as possible to your new workplace and because you were lucky that meant living just down the street.

Running along the sidewalk you urge her on. “What more, Liz. I need everything you can give me.”

The silence speaks volumes. She hesitates, then goes on.

“He attacked and killed one of the soldiers that brought him here. They sedated him but said if no one wants to work with him, they have to put him down. I’ve seen hybrids go animal before but not like this.”

You grit your teeth at that. You hated the term ‘going animal’ even if it was a widely accepted term when working with hybrids. Just because they we’re genetically part animal didn’t mean, that them going berserk was less human that an ordinary person losing it.

And if what she told you was true, he had more than enough reason to lose his marbles.

Before you can ask another question you reach the fence of the rehab compound and to your surprise Liz is there, already opening the door for you so you won’t have to use your access card. You end the call and pocket your phone when you approach her.

“I want to say it’s good to have you back but the circumstances make the whole thing slightly less cheery.” She greets you and then engulfs you in a heartfelt hug.

Damn, you missed her. Liz didn’t work with the hybrids as a handler. She was part of the office team but she was one of your favorite coworkers here. Liz got shit done while taking none and still she was the nicest, sweetest person around.

You nod, returning her hug. Then you breathe deeply, preparing yourself to actually step foot into the facility again. The very reason why you were on medical leave in the first place. It doesn’t feel as bad as you feared but you’re not sure how you will react to the hybrid.

“Where is he? What’s his name?”

Liz sighs deeply. “He’s in the cell. The others refused to work with him when they heard the details from the soldiers. Honestly, I don’t blame them but I thought it was worth calling you.”

You nod grimly and let her lead the way. The facility worked with aggressive hybrids a lot. Problematic cases were nothing new. But one who had murdered mere hours ago was new territory. You’re not sure this is the best decision.

Was this the kind of case you were ready to come back for? After what happened? This had the potential to ruin any progress you had made during your leave.

No. You couldn’t let him be put down just because you were scared. He deserved a chance and if all the others were too worried then you’d give him the chance. Even if it might cost you the stability you’d gained back.

Liz comes to a halt before the cell and turns to you. Her hands clasp onto your shoulders, looking at you through her glasses.

“Thank you for trying.” She hesitates briefly. “Don’t destroy yourself over it though. If he’s lost, he’s lost. You can’t save everyone.”

Her words make your throat tighten and swallowing seems like an impossible feat. You nod, despite the unease bubbling up in you.

He’s a person, you remind yourself. It’s not like you’re meeting a wild animal.

Finally you turn to look through the small window into the cell. The large hybrid nearly steals your breath. He’s still unconscious, lying on the mattress at the far end of the otherwise unfurnished cold cell. The dark pointed ears that peek out of his shaggy hair twitch every now and then.

“His name?” You ask again, your voice a whisper, even though you’re not entirely sure why you feel the need to quiet down.

He is dirty beyond belief; his hair unkempt and you can make out a slight beard on his strong jaw through the bars of his muzzle. You grind your teeth at the sight of it. Using muzzles of that type on hybrids has also been forbidden and you wonder if they found him like this or put it on him.

The fact that he doesn’t wear a shirt, only ripped and sullied pants, grants you an unobstructed view of his torso. There are various wounds in different phases of healing and his ribs are overly visible beneath his skin.

The twin wounds on his left draw your eyes. They seem almost circular and are located between his ribs. Already crusted over messily they seem to not be the newest ones; still you shudder with how painful they look. Over the ribs that lay between those wounds the skin is blackish blue and bruised.

You decide to not look closely at his other wounds as to not make you feel shakier than you already do. Instead you look at his face again. That too is covered in shallow cuts but those do not make your insides want to turn over.

His hair seems to be a deep, dark brown, matching the ears and you wonder how he’ll look, once he’s clean and not on the brink of starvation. Liz’ voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Simon Riley. Lieutenant.”

You both know rank means almost nothing when it comes to hybrids but you don’t comment on the information. You’re about to ask something else when he starts stirring and you hold your breath. Even though you’re outside you feel the tension rise along with his consciousness from the artificial sleep.

Two figures, that were obstructed from view before because they stood so close to the wall, step forward. Soldiers, you realize and they have their weapons trained on the slowly waking hybrid. On Simon.

As soon as he’s halfway conscious he scrambles to his feet, slightly swaying in his spot. He tries to bring his arms to the front but they seem to be tied behind his back. His tail grows stiff behind him, the ears tilt back and his upper lip curls into a snarl revealing his canines while his eyes fixate on the soldiers.

You can hear his deep resounding growl through the door and everything in you wants to run. This is a military hybrid, all right. Everything about him is big and intimidating, the aggression rolling off of him in waves along with the resounding growl.

Instead of running you set your shoulders and breathe deeply. “Let me inside and get the soldiers out.” You say a lot more confidently than you feel. Evidently their way of handling him is not working.

Liz raises her eyebrows but communicates with the guards inside. Slowly they back towards the door, keeping their guns pointed at the hybrid while Liz unlocks the door. Quicker than you can comprehend you changed positions with one of the guards, the other staying with his gun still pointing at Simon.

“”Out.” You command. You wish your body was as unwavering as your voice but you can feel a subtle shaking start in your legs.

The soldier seems conflicted but Elizabeth keeps the door open and he backs out too. Everyone at the center knows that working with hybrids comes with a lot of risks. If this goes south all you’ll be is a small stack of papers on Liz’ desk, waiting to be signed. And maybe a body to be buried.

You’re alone with him now, the heavy door closing behind you and the hostility rolling off Simon nearly suffocates you. His eyes are now fixed solely on you and he seems to be weighing his options, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to attack you.

You pray that he doesn’t.

You study him for a moment longer and you see the sheen on sweat that appears on his skin. This is not only aggression. He’s scared. Scared of you and somehow the fear being mutual calms you down. This hybrid must have been through hell and now he woke in a strange room after forcefully being sedated. You’d be scared shitless too and growl at people.

“Hello.”

You hold the eye contact and the way his ears perk forward for a second before going back again would be adorable in any other situation. The growl stutters before returning stronger than before. He reacted to being spoken to. Liz’ had exaggerated, maybe they’d misinterpreted him, because this hybrid was not on a murder spree.

Yet he’d killed earlier, you have to remind yourself. Just because you were a softie didn’t mean he’d spare you.

Slowly you raise your hands. “I’m just going to sit down, here. Do you know where you are?”

You can see the confusion on his face at the fact you talk to him and you mentally curse the soldiers that brought him in. Despite his display being more animalistic than human he is still a person before all else. How come they hadn't had the common sense to talk to him?

His keen eyes don’t miss even one of your movements as you settle down and cross your legs.

“You were found just north of the border in Texas.” It’s difficult to keep your voice as soft as possible with the way your throat is so tight. For a second you hate yourself because you’re thankful that he is muzzled and his arms are restrained.

Then you remind yourself that he is not Phillip and despite what Liz told you, you will judge him based on his behavior not on the stories. Like you should have with Phillip.

Something about what you said makes his ears perk up. He’s still careful but the previous stifling aggression is gone. Once again you try to suppress your anger at the soldiers not talking to him. This isn’t nearly as bad as they made it out to be.

“They brought you to a rehabilitation facility for hybrids that work with the authorities or the military. You might have heard of it before. It’s called “Rehybrid” which is a stupid name if you ask me but I wasn’t born when they decided on that so…”

Now he cocks his head at you and you try to keep from smiling. You know you’re rambling but it seems to help so you keep going.

“Not everyone is gifted in name giving.” Without much of a pause and consciously casually you continue on. “Mind if I take the handcuffs off of you?”

That makes him stiffen, reflexively his lip curls up again a small growl starting up. Of course he doesn’t trust you. But you’re also very aware of how unfair it is to have him shackled and muzzled when he feels threatened already.

“I know. I wouldn’t want anyone near me too if I were in your position but I think it would only be fair.” You’re very aware of the fact, that Liz, and the soldiers probably too, are watching through the window, most definitely thinking you’ve lost your mind.

Simon shakes his head and even if it is disappointing it makes you feel incredible that he interacted with what you said. Your chest expands and you suddenly feel like a big boulder lifted off your shoulders. That’s a good start.

“It’s okay, I won’t do it then. Just give me a sign when you’re ready.”

Once again you briefly glance at the state his body is in and you slightly wince. Yeah, maybe you would have to press a little harder.

“Listen. I really want to give you the time and space but I think your wounds and your body are on slightly tighter schedule than I am. I won’t force you but I don’t want you dying on me.”

His eyes widen at that and in that moment you’d pay to know what he’s thinking. It’s interesting to watch him as he seems to mentally take note of his body. He nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Take the cuffs off?”, you ask again just to be sure. Simon nods again.

Keeping it slow and easily predictable you stand up again and raise your hand to the latch in the door, opening it and sticking your hand through it. If Liz and the soldiers listened, they’ll give you the key, hopefully.

For a few agonizingly long heartbeats nothing happens, then a key is dropped into the palm of your hand and you close the latch again.

“I’m going to take a step towards you and then you can come to me. Sound good?”

Simon nods again and you take the step. His body tenses but then he crosses the small space and turns his back to you. His chest is heaving and his back is damp with cold sweat. It’s almost unnerving the way he has his head tilted as far to the side as possible, watching you out of the corner of his wide eye. If you make one wrong move he could still easily put you on the ground.

This close you can smell him and the stench coming off of him almost makes you gag. You try to breathe through your mouth at the smell of something rotten assaulting your nose. There's also the underlying smell of piss and filth along with other scents you can't identify. You concentrate on the task at hand in order not to imagine what might have happened to him.

Trying not to stress him out more, you talk him through the short process of taking off the handcuffs. His fast breathing makes you slightly worried that he’ll hyperventilate.

The moments the cuffs are on the floor he’s on the other side of the room again and his hands are tearing at the muzzle on his head. His fingers are frantic and a nail on his already damaged hands breaks, a little bit of blood welling up.

“Wait, please!” You call out desperately but his movements only grow more hectic. The muzzle he has on is designed so the hybrid is unable to take it off without seriously injuring themselves. His nimble fingers flit all over the piece, grabbing and tugging until he decides to just start pushing it upwards off his face.

Immediately the metal cuts into his cheeks and you know he’ll do it anyway. He doesn’t care about cutting his skin in the process. Panic swells in your chest at the thought of him shredding his face just to be muzzle free.

“Please, Simon, Stop!” You say desperately in a last attempt before he pulls it off his face. Against everything you expected he freezes, eyes going wide.

“Simon, that’s your name, right?”, you question your hands outstretched as if you could keep him from hurting himself further by sheer force of will.

You’re shaking and you know he can see it. Swallowing is almost painful. “Please don’t hurt yourself, I’ll take it off of you but please stop hurting yourself.”

His eyes narrow but this time he hesitates less before nodding and stepping towards you. God he is big. You’re all too aware of how incredibly vulnerable you are right now. He could probably rip you apart with his bare hands if he wanted to.

He’s a fully trained soldier and you… you’re just an ordinary person who helps hybrids to get back on their feet. You specifically chose this line of work because you’re soft and stupidly selfless. Using those traits for work seemed like a good option to turn them into strengths.

Now you’re all too aware of how little your softness would guard you against Simon’s brute strength. Even on the brink of starvation the fact that he’s a weapon remains.

Achingly slow your hands reach up to the muzzle, feeling along it for the mechanism to unlock. His eyes stare into yours and this close you can see that they’re the color of dark honey. Nothing about the expression in them is sweet though and you have to consciously swallow against the lump forming in your throat.

You unlock the mechanism and Simon stays in your personal space for a second longer. You don’t break the eye contact and slowly he moves backwards until there is enough room to breathe between you two again.

He flexes his jaw for a moment to test it and this time you smile. His eyes narrow at that but you don’t let it deter you.

Until now he hasn’t made a move to hurt you and you decide to introduce yourself. When you tell him your name he still doesn’t answer but he’s attentive and you think that maybe it will be fine after all.

#the sewer writes #hybrid au #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #hybrid!simon #hybrid!simon x reader #gn!reader #simon x gn!reader #simon riley x reader #hybrid

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iceman-soup · 10 months ago

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ghost x soap

Of course it's fucking raining now that Soap and Ghost finally on leave. Sure, it's not unusual Scottish weather (they're staying in Johnny's small flat in Glasgow), and it's not like they were gonna do much today anyway, but still. It has them waking up in an already lazy mood, Simon shuffling to cuddle into his boyfriend closer and groaning.

The bed is too comfy and warm to get up, and Si doesn't want to move away from Soap's sleepy embrace. They're both conscious, quietly making incoherent noises of complaint at that fact back and forth at each other. Eventually, Johnny presses his lips to Ghost's forehead and rolls them over, sitting up on Simon's stomach to look out the window like a curious rabbit, then leaning down and littering his unmasked face with pecked kisses.

Simon laughs, running his hands through Soap's mohawk. Raindrops patter against the window as he flips them over again, hugging Soap tight then sitting up opposite him, pulling on a pair of comfy military-issued socks and one of his hoodies. The Sergeant sits up too, also pulling on one of Si's hoodies, and much fluffier socks with little skull prints all over them that Gaz had bought him as a gag gift which he ended up adoring.

"Mornin', love," Soap smiles, voice deep and groggy as he leans forward to rest his head on Ghost's chest, who hums in response and nuzzles his cheek against his hair. After a couple moments just sitting like that, the two reluctantly flop out of bed, padding their way over to the tiny kitchen before realising they barely have a scrap of food in the flat, only just having a few general ingredients and a small selection of tea and coffee.

Simon groans again, scanning the fridge as if something new is about to spawn in, before turning around, picking his boyfriend up and setting him on a counter, then passing him flour, eggs, milk and some oil, and getting out a frying pan for the stove.

"What're we making?" the shorter man asks, swinging his legs and playfully kicking Ghost whenever he gets in range.

"Secret," is the only reply he gets, but it's quickly obvious by the way Si mixes some flour, milk and two eggs together, creating a thin batter which he splashes into the pan, just about remembering to put oil in first so as to not completely fuck it all up. Then Chef Riley takes charge, and suddenly Johnny is being bossed around, ordered to get plates and get cutlery and cut up a lemon and put some caster sugar in a small bowl and set it out all pretty on the tiny dining table. In his own home, he complains lightheartedly.

The first pancake served is happily accepted by the Scot along with a quick kiss. The shit weather had only gotten worse, but that meant a perfect background noise for them to eat (although it did make conversation a little difficult). Once the batter is all used up, Ghost puts Soap on washing up duty, whilst he dries and puts everything away. And then it's essential to curl up on the sofa together, wrapped in one of Johnny's blankets, watching a randomly-selected war film and criticising even the slightest inaccuracies to make each other laugh.

#knawing on coffee tables PLEASE give me some requests #they can be x reader or ships IDC #i need requests pleasepleaseplease #on my knees begging. i'll suck cock if u want #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #soap x ghost #ghoap fluff #ghost x soap #cod fluff

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ukeshik · 4 months ago

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Armin Arlert x fem.reader

TW: 18+ content, first experience(for both), loud sex, light femdom (in beginning), handjob, cumshot, kunilingus, very sweet, soft and gentle, SOOOOO comfort

unproofed

"Oh my God.... Ah... this is.... Mmm, ha...." from his barely parted lips, these moans came out, so sweet, so pleasant and affectionate. His high-pitched voice just went through your body and stayed there, making you already squeeze your legs from the excitement you were starting to feel at that moment. You didn't understand how a person's voice could be like that, how sounds could flow through the air, envelop you, sink into your ears, making you shiver through your whole body. That's exactly what Armin's moans were like. Sweet as wild flower honey, which stretches down in a trickle, folding in smooth steps.

Guess you just ran out of patience. You are tired of this cute boy looking too beautiful and sexy, and absolutely denies it, which is why you can't get any more pleasure from him than hugs and kisses. Although you're sure that he could use it all the time and fuck the whole city if he wanted, just by looking at some girl with his big clear eyes and winking after her.

You just liked boys who cum. Especially thin, light-skinned boys who quietly (although it seemed to you, being in an empty room in which there were no other sounds, that he was doing it insanely loudly) moan under your hands, their cock twitches from their own excitement, and the head beats against a flat stomach, on which his muscles are so beautifully manifested, the moment you let go of their length, leaving them just twitching.

You and he didn't have any experience before. Apart from jerking off in the middle of the night when both were thinking about each other. But it was enough for you just to see Armin with a morning boner once to clearly decide that you fucking want this guy. Even though he was not the tallest, not the strongest build (although his body definitely had muscles, the military department definitely worked on his body), Arlert still seemed very hot to you. Too much. And what you saw that morning made you almost ache with desire.

So now you were sitting in a chair across from Armin, sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching the blankets with your palms while you tightly squeezed his throbbing cock. He squeezed his eyes shut and his cheeks burned red because he still couldn't come to terms with his nakedness.

His brown trousers and boxers were pulled down to his ankles, and a white short-sleeve shirt was unbuttoned and open, which hung on his elbows because he did not have the strength to take it off completely, and it was the only thing that somehow covered him.

You never thought that you would feel so calm, so open during your first time, and even more so to be in charge of this process. But when you met a partner like Armin, you realized that you would definitely dominate. You had enough confidence to make this boy moan with pleasure and cum.

So in the beginning, when you were just sitting on his bed and he kissed you, lightly touching you with his lips, gently holding your head in his hands, stroking your soft cheeks with his thumbs, and then you suggested... doing something more serious. And then you slowly moved your lips from his lips to his cheek, down to the sharp line of his jaw, smoothly flowing to his neck, gently kissed the trembling adam's apple. "Would you like me to... well, we... something more intimate." at the moment, you were a little lost and didn't know what to say. You wanted to get permission from Armin first, and only then act, because if he's not ready for this yet, you definitely didn't want to put pressure on him. "No, I... I absolutely don't mind, sweet, I've always wanted it, and you're amazing, and I always want you, I mean, I... only if you want to, but you might be disappointed, and I'm afraid of that, and..." Arlert rattled off all this quickly, looking away from you, clearly not expecting you to immediately start unbuttoning his shirt and talking about how handsome and amazing he is.

He involuntarily tried to squeeze his legs when you began to slowly and carefully take off his pants and gray boxers, but your knees between them prevented this. Armin was burning all over, his skin was insanely hot, and his face was red: his cheeks, nose, and ears were on fire. "Sweet, you don't have to...." cover your face when his erect, damn hard cock is in the air and in your sight. He wanted to just pull his pants back on and run away, or just cover his aroused organ with his hands, but at the same time... he wanted it so much. "Armin. The sun." you began to speak softly, slightly rising from the chair on which you were sitting so that your face was in front of him, to make it seem as if you did not see his trembling cock, but only looked into his eyes. "You're amazing. You look absolutely gorgeous. You have nothing to be shy about, you look very beautiful, just incredible."

Now you squeezed his length harder and moved your hand faster up and down, immediately seeing this reaction: how his mouth opened, how his blond eyelashes fluttered, and the pelvic muscles tensed even more. "Sweet, I can't... o my gosh, ah..." Armin couldn't speak clearly, he was constantly breaking down into moans and heavy breaths of air. "it's too... too good..."

He was so damn sensitive. Too much. When you just touched his bulge in his pants, Armin had already jumped on the spot. His nerve endings couldn't handle it because no one had touched him in such places before. Although, he had almost the same reaction to your every touch. The way you ran your hand over his abs after you unbuttoned his shirt, the way you played with the skin above the edge of his boxers, causing his hips to tremble in a spasm.

And you definitely didn't expect Arlert to be so responsive. He absolutely couldn't hold back his moans, because for all the time that you were playing with his cock, he didn't stop talking for a second. You thought that Armin would be as silent and not involved in the process as possible, but... he exceeded all his expectations.

"It seems to me... mmmm, ah... if you continue the same way, I will finish soon..." Armin chirped softly, in his high voice, opening his eyes for a second, but as soon as he saw you running your hand over his slippery cock, collecting from above the head what had managed to flow out of him, when he saw your face in front of him, and with what a soft smile and gentle eyes you looked at him, he immediately closed his eyes back, letting out another moan, this time much louder.

When you heard his words, you slowed down and began to move your hand again in very slow movements, going down to his balls for a long time, and back up to the tip, running your thumb along the urethra. Damn, he had such a beautiful dick. Not huge, absolutely normal, good size, slightly curved, with a bright pink head that you wanted to try to lick, see how this boy would react to it, how he would cover his face with his long fingers and moan again in his sweet voice.

«Sweet, it’s… oh, you…” Armin really couldn't connect two words. He was really just basking in the pleasure that you gave him. When you saw this, you accelerated again and thought that you could already let him finish. You've already tormented him with your gentle soft hands long enough to make him suffer even more. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would come much sooner. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would cum much sooner. Probably because according to your ideas, if he does something similar to you, you will cum in less than ten minutes. «love, you… ah….!”

Your hand movements became much tougher and faster, and Armin almost fell back onto the sheets, unable to cope with it. You wanted to see this: how he cums, how his mouth opens in a final moan, and his hot sperm sprays from the tip of his cock, staining his stomach and chest, going down from the tip over your fingers.

"ahhh, it's too good, toogoodforme, I'm coming soon, ah, there are napkins on the table..." Armin muttered quickly, whose thighs were shaking from the imminent orgasm. Damn it, this boy was even thinking about you at such a moment, that suddenly it would be unpleasant for you to feel his discharge in this form.

You looked at those napkins and, continuing to jerk off his hard smooth cock, reached for the napkins with one hand, solely in order to wipe his body later so that he would definitely feel comfortable. You definitely weren't going to let him cum on a napkin. You wanted to see it in all its glory. You wanted Armin to see it for himself and understand that there is nothing wrong with it, and that he just has to enjoy the moment and feel his sexuality and beauty.

«I’m..I'm cumming, sweet, take a napkin... oh, my God!" accelerating to the maximum pace, you even grabbed the edge of the table standing next to you on the side, making final movements, after which Armin's muscles shook, and these high, such sweet loud guttural moans escaped from your chest, from which you yourself almost cum.

Arlert was surprised when he realized that you didn't move to take something in order to collect his secretions, and he wanted to do it on his own, but he couldn't do anything anymore, because the orgasm hit him so abruptly and so hard that his arms just gave way and he fell on his back. From the tip of his cock, his white, warm sperm flew out in a strong stream, staining his lower abdomen, flowing into his navel, reaching almost to his chest. Now he absolutely couldn't hold back, forgetting that the neighbors could hear him.

When the main wave of his orgasm passed, his cum began to flow down your cock and down your arm. For the first time, you felt the warmth of sperm, as a thick liquid envelops your fingers. When Armin calmed down more or less, his voice subsided, and his cock stopped spewing secretions, you let go of your hand from his cock, and just looked at your boyfriend for a few seconds. He was breathing very heavily, his chest heaving with each deep breath that his sharp ribs began to show under the skin. His eyes were still closed, and his mouth was wide open, frozen in a silent moan.

«sweet, oh my god… ah…. It was… gosh, it was so good... it's so amazing, babe, you did it so good...” Armin muttered softly, trying to recover from this. It was definitely his best and strongest orgasm of his entire life.

"I know, honey. You did a very good job too. You were very good, honey." you said softly as his cum dripped from your fingers onto his sheet. It was the first time you made a boy cum. And for the first time, when you saw cum live. And you wanted to try it. You knew about what it was like approximately, but…

Without warning, you bent down and just licked the hot red tip of his cock, collecting all the juices that remained and the tops. You felt this unusual taste, felt the warmth of his flesh. You felt what kind of skin is on the cock, what kind of taste and temperature it is, how smooth and pliable it is.

«sweet…? Are you.. oh gosh-“ at first, Armin didn't understand what was going on with his cock, because it definitely wasn't your gentle fingers, but something else, softer, hotter and wet.... "You don't have to...! Ah, you don't have to do this if you don't want to, babe, you..." a little panic seized him, but it was too good for him to say anything else. It's unlikely he'll be able to come after that, but just feeling your tongue on him was already something divine.

When you let go of his cock from your hands and mouth, you straightened up, and while Armin was recovering, you just looked at him. It seemed to you that this was the best view in the world that you could see. How his discharge glitters in the light from the lamp on the table, the result of his pleasure, how it looks on his toned muscles, how his cock fell exhausted on his stomach....

"Oh God, I'm sorry, it's... such a mess, didn't mean to..." Armin began to mutter softly when he finally opened his eyes and tried to sit back down, and saw what he had done. You just sat mesmerized, holding your hand on his hip, and couldn't get enough of the sight. Only then did you realize what he was talking about.

You knew that you really needed to put him in order a little, but ... at first you just bent down and wrapped your arm around his neck, gently kissed him, touching the boy's lips. At first, Armin was taken aback, but only then was he finally able to relax and gently answer you, with his eyes closed, gently crushing your lips between his own. "I love you, Armin. You did great. It was just amazing..." you whispered softly into his lips, now afraid to open your eyes to look at him. You cherished this moment too much to lose it.

"And I love you too, sweet. It was... very good. Very much." Arlert replied softly, feeling the cum trickle down his stomach. "But... babe, let me return the favor. Let me please you." You, focused on getting your boy to cum, completely forgot that he might want to... give you credit too. You didn't think at all that Armin would want to please you too.

You just nodded your head, not knowing what to say. A little panic has arisen in you because this will also be the first time when someone forces you to have an orgasm. But when Armin clung to your lips again, gently tasting them, feeling his salinity on them, you relaxed, and just gave yourself up to feelings, deciding to move with the flow.

Arlert briefly interrupted the kiss to take a napkin and wipe off the remnants of his pleasure, but as soon as it was over, he gently pulled you back to him, kissing you gently, gently, lightly running his tongue over your lower lip. Armin pulled you to him, grabbing you under his arm, and you were about to move onto his lap, but he wouldn't let you do it, instead laying you on the bed.

After making sure that you were comfortably settled on the mattress, Armin clung to you again, kissing you more confidently, more deeply and passionately. His tongue made its way into your mouth and gently intertwined with your own, feeling your and his saliva in your mouth, which was already just starting to flow out of their mouths, staining their lips and chins. Meanwhile, the boy managed to pull his Boxers and pants back on, as he still felt very embarrassed about his nakedness, although he left them unbuttoned.

After enjoying your lips enough, Armin began to slowly descend down your delicate chin to your sweet neck, exploring it with his lips and tongue. He ran his lips along the front of your throat, moved to the rapidly pulsating vein, running his tongue over them, and went further closer to your ear, and when he noticed that you twitched when he touched a specific place under your ear, where the cervical ligament was, he stayed there, paying more attention to this place attention. I kissed him gently, ran my tongue over him, gently bit him, feeling how your hips clenched from his touch, and barely audible moans escaped from your mouth, which you tried so hard to restrain.

Armin has remembered this place for the future and will always kiss you there. Long and sweet. But now he has reached the edge of the collar of your soft hoodie (or rather, it was once his hoodie, because only now he realized that he had not been able to find one of the same gray one for a long time), burying his face in it to reach your bulging collarbones. "Can I... take it off? Armin asked softly, briefly tearing himself away from your skin to look at you and hear your permission.

It was only when he heard you say yes to him that he hooked his fingers around the edge of the hoodie and gently began to lift it up. You deliberately sat up on the bed so that it would be easier for him to take off this hoodie that is not needed at the moment, and fell back onto the mattress with a heavy exhale, looking at Armin towering over your body, sitting on his knees between your legs.

Before he could cling back to your body, his spirit had already been intercepted. Damn it, you were still dressed, in your buggy jeans and a soft bra that hugged your breasts so beautifully... Armin swallowed hard and leaned back towards you, gently tracing a line of kisses from your neck to your collarbones and chest. "You look amazing, sweet.” He murmured softly, sucking on the skin under your collarbone, feeling your chest rise with every breath. God, he wanted to taste those sweet peaks so much, they looked so good wrapped in a bra fabric. It seemed to him that his cock was starting to harden again, but he was not ready for another orgasm.

Having thoroughly enjoyed your upper part of the skin, Armin continued to go down, passing between your breasts with sweet kisses, stopping on your soft stomach, kissing every inch of the skin. He noticed how the muscles of your pelvis began to tremble when he passed his lips over the skin closer to the lower abdomen, above the edge of your jeans.

"Can I..." Armin was about to ask, but was immediately interrupted by you, who wrapped her palm around his forearm, "Hey, Armin. You can do anything to me. You don't have to ask my permission every time. You can do anything." You said softly, gently stroking his sinewy forearm.

Looking into his clear blue eyes, his rosy cheeks, you felt only love and a slight excitement, just because you got just such a man. He was so good. Hearing your words, Armin nodded weakly, moved his hands to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them with slightly trembling fingers. Taking hold of the edge, he began to take them off you, and you lifted your hips up for convenience, allowing your beloved to take off the bottom.

It seemed to him that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. When he saw your breasts in a bra, he was ready to faint, but when you lifted your hips while he was pulling off your jeans, seeing your simple underwear, how your pubic bone bulges, seeing your pelvic bones, seeing the place where your clit should be, just the place where your pussy is... oh my God....

Swallowing hard, Armin tossed your jeans onto the chair where your hoodie was already lying. It took him a few deep breaths to decide to keep moving on. After kissing your fragile knee several times, he spoke again. "sweet... if you don't want to, I can stop and..."

You really appreciated Armin's care. You appreciated it very much, and loved him for it with all your soul. But at that moment, you just wanted to roll your eyes, and for him to act more confidently and decisively. "Armin." you said his name more firmly, looking at him with wide eyes. Of course, you felt a little nervous, lying in front of a guy already almost naked. "I so fucking want you. And I've already said that you can do whatever you think is necessary. I already told you: yes." you answered in a gentle voice, slightly rising on your forearms, while Armin silently listened to you.

"Okay, okay, I get it." He muttered, a little embarrassed. But it was already damn hard for him to see you in just your underwear, which now he will have to take off you, see you completely naked, and also... oh my God, that stain on your panties. A wet spot. Everything inside him shrank, both his insides and his hearts. It took all his courage to lean back towards you.

"Then we need to... take this off too," Armin said softly, sliding his hands under your back to unbutton your bra. His heart was pounding madly as he clumsily stretched the fasteners, and when he did, he was afraid to move on, pull the straps off your fragile shoulders and expose your chest. Armin just hung up, so you sat down on the bed again, and took it off yourself, throwing it on a chair with the rest of the things, looking straight into his eyes.

It seems his heart just stopped at that moment. When you confidently threw your bra aside and stood in front of him in this form, he really tried to look you in the eye, but as soon as you lay back again, his gaze dropped to your breasts, and he could not look away. Their beautiful roundness, softness and protruding soft nipples drove him crazy. Then Armin clearly told himself that he would not back down tonight. And never again.

Although you acted confidently, you shrank inside yourself. It's the first time you've let a guy see your breasts. You knew you looked good, very good, but seeing Armin's stunned look, how lost he looked at the moment, how his cheeks flushed even more, you shrank inside. Relaxation came to you when Arlert was getting old. "Sweet... you look incredible… you are amazing..." Armin murmured with delight, and leaned towards you again, quickly kissing your lips.

He realized that he shouldn't slow down so much and be too careful. Therefore, after gently kissing you, Armin went down again and ... after looking at your breasts for a few more seconds, he gently kissed the skin between your breasts, feeling your natural smell. Damn it, it felt too good. You smelled just great, and you looked the same. "you look very beautiful... very..." Armin murmured softly and continued to kiss your chest.

He again liked the huge amount of strength to decide to move to your chest fully. Finally, he slowly moved to one of the halves, gently kissing the halos of your mammary glands, after which he got to the nipple itself, gently kissing its tip, which caused you to twitch your whole body, and a quiet moan came out of your mouth. Armin just barely touched you, and you were already reacting like this. Although, to be honest, you were ready to cum right now, even when Armin hadn't even had time to touch your pussy yet.

"Is everything okay? Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" Armin immediately began to ask excitedly, immediately tearing himself away from your surface and looking at your face. He was really worried that he might be doing something wrong and that you didn't like it.

"everything is... just great. Stunningly. Armin, please don't worry, you're doing everything just perfectly..." you replied in a weak voice, just wishing Armin's lips were in that place again.

After hearing your words, he finally realized that your slight cramp and moans were just confirmation that you felt good from his touch. This clearly gave Armin an incentive and he began to feel much more confident, which is why he immediately returned his lip to your breast and gently cupped your nipple. Having crushed it in his lips, he gently licked it, tasting you. It was really sweet, and so pleasant, so soft and good, for him and for you in particular.

He lightly rubbed your nipple with his tongue, moving it up and down, after which he gently kissed the top again and wrapped his lips around your breast much more confidently, sucking your skin and nipples into himself, and released it from his mouth with a loud squelch. Seeing that you like it, Armin moved on to your other half of your chest, running a wet trail of kisses along the middle of your chest.

The thought that soon he would touch your innermost middle, see and touch this pussy, these labia, clit and hole, it all haunted him and he was really just afraid. But when he saw how you bent under his touch, how your back bent slightly while he played with your tender nipples with his tongue, how quiet moans flew out of your chest, how his name flew from your tongue tip, Armin realized that he was doing everything right, you like everything and you definitely want it.

So slowly, with his heart pounding madly in his chest, Arlert began to slowly descend down to your stomach again. Leaving another huge portion of kisses on your skin, on your ribs, above your navel, under your navel, at the edge of your modest cotton panties, which made you twitch violently. Armin even stopped because of this, raising his eyes to you again, as if asking if everything was okay, but... you were just so damn sensitive that your muscles started to shudder just from touching the lower abdomen, on the muscles closer to the pubis, and you couldn't do anything about it. Your body just trembled and shuddered from touching in these places. "It's okay. This is... normal. It's just... too good for me." you replied softly, after which he continued to move on.

Slightly lowering himself down on the bed, Armin settled himself comfortably between your legs and began to conduct a gentle path of kisses starting from your knee down your leg to the inside of your thigh, making you tremble and squirm under his touch. You really couldn't do anything about it, you couldn't control how your legs were very visibly shaking because of all this, especially when Armin lightly sucked the skin of your thigh, and his head accidentally poked the top of your pussy, which almost made you jump.

God, Armin was going crazy while kissing your hips. They were so soft, so gentle, and you were... so worked up. You was as responsive to all touch as he was. But it gave him a lot of confidence, knowing that you were reacting like that, and that you really only felt pleasure from it all. And when he saw it clearly on your cables, which only got bigger while the tone was kissing your body, he was ready to just pass out on the spot.

And being so dangerously close to your crotch, he felt. Damn it, he could smell your pussy and his head was blurry because of it.

"God, you smell stunning, sweet.” Armin muttered thoughtlessly into the skin of your thigh, completely not expecting that he would be able to utter such an obscenity out loud. Once he got a taste, he couldn't wait to taste this pussy, taste it, find out how her skin felt, how smooth and hot it was. And when you heard these words from Armin's mouth, you just opened your mouth in a silent moan, because it sounded so damn hot....

Your heart started beating even faster when you realized that soon Armin would touch you there. You were already madly aching with desire, your whole body was on fire, and between your legs was just crazy, so your clit craved touching it. You were ready to cum from the very first touches, you were so excited all the time while you were jerking off Armin's cock, and he was kissing your body.

Remembering that you told him that he could do whatever he wanted and that he didn't need permission to do anything, Armin only raised his eyes to yours for a second to get your tacit confirmation that he could take off your panties and start... What you and he have been waiting for.

"Lift your hips for me, sweet..." Armin muttered in a quiet, drunken voice because of you, hooking his fingers around the edge of your panties, and when you really lifted your hips to help pull off the last piece of clothing, Armin just closed his eyes, unable to look at your core, which was exposed in front of him, as soon as he pulled the fabric of the panties down to your knees, and then pulled them off completely, throwing them somewhere to the side when you lifted your legs up and helped him take them off.

When the last piece of fabric that somehow covered you disappeared, you wanted to bring your legs together and close up, but Armin's body, located between your legs, did not allow you to do this, so your ankles just rested on his shoulders, and your knees squeezed his head. Probably, it was after that that Armin was able to open his eyes and see your pussy shining because of the lubricant that had leaked out all this time, and he thought that this was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Because it only took him a few seconds to look at your pussy, enjoy the view of it, see the pea of the clit, and then furiously cling to your pussy with his mouth. He didn't even have to massage your clit with his fingers before that, so that the lubricant was released and there were no exclusively those alkaline secretions that remained in the vagina, you were already fucking wet.

Your back arched in a crazy arc when Armin finally lowered his head between your legs. It was too pleasant. First, he ran his tongue all over your pussy, licked the soft folds of your outer and inner labia, tasting your sweet-sour juices. But when Armin made his way further inside, and more confidently ran a soft tongue over your burning clit, it made you just howl and grab the sheets, squeezing them in your fingers, while loud moans escaped from your chest, which you could not restrain.

According to some videos from the Internet, he remembered that girls prefer either slow, sweeping movements with their whole tongue, or fast and sharp with the tip of a hard tongue. Armin realized a long time ago that porn videos cannot be trusted, so he tried to rely on other knowledge, but now, feeling panic because he did not know how to do everything right, and the great pleasure that he himself gives pleasure to someone, Armin decided to try everything.

And while he was trying to taste you, he ran his tongue in slow circles over your clit, feeling how it throbbed and how hot it was. It was clearly a little swollen and slightly raised, so this sweet clit was very pleasant and comfortable to lick.

Armin had never thought that giving pleasure to someone was so pleasant, even better than having fun. Because your moans, the way you squirmed under his tongue, the way your legs trembled was much more satisfying than when you made him come. No, of course, he liked it too, but knowing that you felt good, good because of him, was much better. So he tried his best. He was looking for the best way to lick your clit: he swung his tongue flat on it, sucked it with his lips, releasing it with a loud sound, and quickly clicked it with the tip of his tongue. But it seems that you responded insanely strongly to everything. Just because you couldn't hold back. But…

Damn it, you came too fast. It took you less than five minutes of Armin's tongue moving on yourself before you grabbed his hair and came as hard as you've never come in your life. No hands, no fingers. This is all due to your overexcitation and high sensitivity, because you were definitely not used to touching in such places. But it was definitely something you could get used to.

"Yes, yes... honey, yes, that's it.... Faster..." you muttered softly when you realized that your orgasm was already approaching. You grabbed his hair, involuntarily pulling his head closer to you while your hips squeezed his head on the sides. You couldn't leave your legs apart, just because they were shaking too much and coming together on their own, every time Armin ran his tongue over your clit or hole, picking up another portion of your lubricant.

After hearing your words, Armin continued to pull your clit with the tip of his tongue and lips with confident firm movements, putting all his strength and emotions into it. While he was shamelessly licking you, his hands wrapped around you under your hips, gently stroking them, periodically flowing to your soft stomach, running his fingertips over your pelvic bones and under your navel. You were so soft and gentle, smelling delicious and just incredibly amazing.

When you stopped talking and only grabbed his hair roots harder, squeezing his head with your hips even harder and falling silent, somehow Armin realized that at this moment he needed to move even better. Therefore, his tongue moved more actively on your clit, and his hands clung to your hips, leaving red finger marks on them. All you could hear was heavy breathing in and out, very heavy, as if you were struggling with something, and soon it made itself felt.

The orgasm has overwhelmed you. In principle, you have always experienced quite strong orgasms yourself, but what you have experienced now... It was growing fast in you and everything was getting ready to burst into crazy sparks, which happened. It went dark in front of your eyes, and a mindless, insane pleasure spread through your body, and you squeezed your legs even harder to feel it better. you completely forgot that Armin was still there, who kept licking your current pussy, but damn.... When you collapsed back onto the bed and finally let out a loud exhale with moans, because while you were feeling all this, you just weren't breathing. It was too much. It feels like you blacked out for a few seconds because everything was still swimming in front of your eyes.

It was only when your body, your legs completely relaxed, and fell exhausted onto the mattress that Armin stopped. He looked up at your almost immobilized body, only your chest was rising high with your breathing while you were trying to catch your breath from orgasm. It seemed as if you couldn't move, your muscles relaxed so much after that.

"My God, Armin..." you muttered only after a minute or more, and then barely audibly, because you had no strength, absolutely nothing. "This is... this is... fucking, this is too good." you managed to squeeze out of yourself with your eyes closed, trying to move at least your hand.

"You're amazing, babe. It's incredible." Armin replied softly, and finally got up, getting out of your legs, leaving a kiss on your knee, on your stomach, on your neck and on your forehead along the way, after which he moved over and lay down next to you, pressing his forehead against your temple.

#aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #armin arlert x y/n #armin arlert x you #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #armin smut #armin x reader #armin aot #snk armin #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 11 months ago

Note

could I ask for hcs for how day to day life would change for erwin, hange, and levi's s/o after dealing with their notable injuries they get during the story? IE erwin's arm, hanji's eye, levi's scars, eye, and fingers ect? I hope this was clear enough I hope you have a nice day/night!

Sure thing and don't worry I understood you're request just fine, thank you. I hope you're having a nice current timezone anon :)

(Gender neutral reader)

Erwin Smith

Things are... mostly the same as the were before for the most part. Not right away though because of course all the stuff with Rod Reiss, Historia, the man hunt for Survey Corps heads, and the fact Erwin was quite literally sentenced to death not that long after losing it so things were of course very hectic to where there wasn't really a good adjustment period until the two month preparation period to reclaim Shingashima.

It's a shame really, it was his dominant hand too, now all his paperwork is signed with a slight messiness to it he isn't exactly a fan of. But he makes do, relearning and rewiring how his brain works to make up for the lost limb. But even if he doesn't say it out loud, you know more than anyone exactly how hard it is for him - even if to so many people he has so many different airs and appearances to keep.

"Oh it's just an arm, a small sacrifice for the greater good of Humanity. Many good, amazing, talented people have lost more. This is a minor scratch compared to that."

That's what he told Nile that night over dinner together with you and Marie too after Erwin's charges had been offically cleared off the records. Truth be told, none of you at that table bought it, even if he really did intentionally mean it - you three knew him, and it was subtle but with how he struggled to pick up and properly use the fork in his sole surviving hand spoke all it need to. It was a very human struggle - one he did everything to hide.

He can't shave his face by himself anymore, he has trouble putting his uniform on every morning, he needs to relearn how to use ODM gear in a modified way, he has to do an awkward version of the salute now, he struggles with how to maneuver and get himself clean in the shower for the longest until he comes up with a routine on how to do it one handed, he still has enemies so he has to rewire how he thinks of defending himself, he has to learn how to deal with this odd... phantom feeling of his missing arm still being there like in the stories he'd hear from injured soldiers. It's all hard, but he manages, braves through but he's very thankful to have you and so many close others at his side that are willing to help him through it.

Also misses holding your hand. During a meeting with Queen Historia, her Majesty speaking excitedly about her plans to help out orphans - specifically those from Underground, as Levi had made sure to suggest - that as the core members of the Survey Corps stood in audience, he couldn't help but to glance over at where you stood at one side of him, nodding supportively along to Historia's desires about letting the children have fun on her new acquired farm lands, that does he stare at you - at your hand more specifically, as you are standing at his side with the dangling green military coat sleeve. It's rude, he knows, not paying attention as the Queen speaks about her noble causes but he finds himself not being able to help it. For just a second - and maybe, probably, he's deluding this - but for a second he feels the empty sleeve move on it's own to graze at your hand as to grab it - immediately gaining your attention as you stare over at him with your gorgeous eyes that every time he looks at him he falls in love all over again, over and over and the way your head questioningly tilts as if to ask him if something was wrong does his throat turn dry but his lips slightly part until-

A rough kick comes subtly to his paralleled ankle at his other side, Levi. The Captain doesn't look at him, he just keeps his arms crossed over his chest and intently listens to Historia's plans, however, he quietly scolds under his breath: "Pay attention."

Right... he was being very rude. He shouldn't get lost up in silly stuff like this in such important professional times such as these. But... when you suddenly reach over and hold onto the sleeve just as it were his flesh hand only weeks prior, so sincerely and lovingly... he can't help but the dumb smile on his face.

Everything will be fine. He's still the same man. There'll be struggle, some more getting use to - afterall, it's only been a couple weeks if not a month. There's plenty of recovery time in the future, he knows it. After Shingashima, he decides, maybe then he'll take some time off - spend with you and truly attune himself with the lacking arm. And maybe... maybe if he practices a bit first with his still lack of balance... he can still properly get down on his knees and take out that heavy ring in his breast pocket and ask you that question that's been on his mind.

Hanji Zoë

Going to be perfectly honest, the missing eye is the least of Hanji's issues at the moment. It's still a struggle, yes, the now partial blindness that they have to now wear a patch over and it takes a couple weeks to properly get accumulated and not bumping into walls, doors, tables, and other stuff on accident. But it becomes something that's like second nature to the new Commander very quickly on.

Now... the sight isn't the issue. The mountain of other things that came with Shingashima is, both mental and physical.

The obvious is the new Commander position, taking over Erwin's role puts so much on their shoulders and not just that - having to put on this brave face for the only - ten, including themselves, Survey Corps members that survived that bloodbath. They're in charge, everyone's looking up to them them for advice, for orders, for their command. Meanwhile... Hanji hasn't even had proper time to grief for not just one but two of their best friends... Erwin. Moblit... that first night was the roughest, coming back home, to their now old office and practically broke down crying where you had to comfort them all night - they didn't sleep for the next four days straight. They stayed cooped in that office while everyone else was on leave to go properly recover and only let you attend to them. Hanji isn't... the same after that - and everyone notices but doesn't dare to speak on it. They aren't the quirky titan-obsessed quack anymore. They were the calculating 14th Commander of the Survey Corps, Hanji Zoë.

Hanji is also particularly deaf in their right ear now, even if they were - mostly - uninjured from the Colossal Titan nuke, the sound of the impact definitely damaged it a bit before they were tossed in deep the well by Moblit. They've never said the fact out loud to anybody, only you and Levi are aware of the fact, but they read lips more often than not now. So you make sure you always make it able to where they can properly read your lips when you speak to them, and if you can learn a bit of sign language that would also be very helpful.

Doesn't sleep as much as they used to. They say it's because they're too busy - Commander work and still helping out ironing out political matters and issues that still came with Historia's crowing as the new Queen of the Walls and the hectic readjustment period of getting Maria's old settlements rebuilt and ready for resettlement - but that's not just it. There's the nightmares now. Keeping them awake just to not wake them up screaming in the middle of the night and you have to loose sleep comforting them. They should be fine with it, they tell themselves, after all what they said back on that roof to Mikasa was true; they've seen hundreds of their comrades die - no actually, not a hundred... too many more than that to count. And each time they've been strong about it... distracting themselves in their research not to let themselves dwell on it too long. But now... no matter how hard they tried, nothing worked. Maybe it's because it was Erwin and Moblit, the closest two other people they had besides you and Levi. Or maybe it's because only ten fucking people out of the entire fucking Regiment survived that damn day.

And now that the truth is out there, what titans actually are, titan research isn't fun anymore. They could very easily drag one in a captured area and poke amd prod and maybe learn a little bit more on how the transformation process actually works - Connie Springer's mother would be a good example but just looking at that boy they can't bring themselves to even suggest it - but they don't. They just... sign off on papers all day. Try not to think about overseas that much. Not yet anyway.

Things are slightly better by the time you've made contact with the volunteers and the core Scouts had made their way to embark on Marley. Seeing new sights, new people, new inventions none of you could possibly even dream of was quite thrilling. Hanji has a great time, holding onto your hand and sporadically yapping on and on about this "car," or this "tele - phone," or this "controllable electricity." in the exact same manner and way they use to about titans - that wide shit eating smile that goes from ear to ear plastered to their face for the first time in years you love to see as you nod along and just listen and let them ask Onyankopon every possible question that comes to their head - the man having trouble even keeping up with them. It's nice while it last... but it's not too long until the 14th Commander comes back when reminded about why you're all here in the first place...

It's late at night one night, the night before you were all supposed to go back to Paradis does Hanji stare up at the ceiling of your shared room in the Azumabito astate. They have their eye patch off - feeling comfortable around you for you to see the mangled socket that normally rests underneath - as they lie back in bed and listen to you shuffle around to get into your night-wear to get ready to join them.

"I'm thinking..." They finally speak, you look back over your shoulder at them - sprawled out on messy sheets with only wrapped circuit of bandages around their chest to hide the shape. "...I'm thinking that Armin should be my successor. What you think?"

You tell them he's a smart kid, very talented at what he does but... given, past history... you express your feelings that it might be a lot to put on him, given the position of it's weight. Erwin's weight. Erwin's impact. Hanji's impact.

Yeah, probably true, they tell you. And they reminisce on how they felt when Erwin had dropped the sudden bombshell on them... God. They were turning more into him everyday... but you crawl over to the bed and start to kiss their face before the Commander can sulk in it. You love them, you tell them that every chance you get and it never fails to leave a gentle look in Hanji's remaining eye, their expression softening. They joke, saying how much you probably miss the old up-beat crazy Squad Leader Hanji... but you shake your head, hands so loving on their face as you tell them straight up you love them now just as much as you did back then - damaged and all.

Without hesitation they ask you to marry them.

Levi Ackerman

Hard. Very hard at first. He can only particularly see, for the first year or so his stitches itch to a very grading degree, he has only eight digits on his hands where using the left is... very difficult, especially with his unique ways of holding things, and he can't walk. Humanity's strongest - that ridiculous title... now look at him. He "entered" the Survey Corps ten years ago and now every single person around him then is dead - except you. During those first few days of the Rumbling he didn't really think about it - with all the shit going on he had other things to think about than have time to really... process. But here he is now, couple days after the "Battle of Heaven and Earth," as he's hearing people call it. Now in his time to heal does it really set in. And at first he doesn't take it... well.

Once he's well enough to be off bedrest and he's in that "damn chairwheels," you and Onyankopon manage to buy him (hard to come by given how... very much damaged the world still is post Rumbling) you're going to have to have to keep your eye on him because for the first couple weeks he will try to get up and walk around - only damaging his hurt leg more. He feels restricted in it, he wants to go where he damn well pleases - you tried crutches for a while but... he's actually too short for the ones you manged to find post Rumbling, so he's left to that chair. It just takes him time to get use to, that's all. Eventually though, months after the Crisis has been over, it's when you start taking him out places - steering him through the rebuilding cities of Marley, talking about God knows what, that he starts to come around... maybe it's not that bad, annoying, sure, but he feels a lot calmer now. Those kids - Gabi and Falco, they help too. Sometimes they drive him around but he isn't exactly the biggest fan when they clumsily knock him into shit though but they're cute kids, they remind him a lot of much younger versions of Isabel and Farlan, how they'd bicker all the time...

The two of you have a cabin together in Marley, a nice cozy cabin that with the help of Onyankopon - who smuggily calls himself a bit of 'builder' - is modified a bit so that it's more accessible for Levi to move around, plenty enough ofvplace to roam so he doesn't feel couped up like he expressed he didn't want when getting the place. It's nice though, Levi's never had a real house before - only somewhat exception being that dingy little apartment he and Kenny used to live in Underground and then he lived with Farlan and Isabel in it too before joining the Corps. Besides that it's always just been either a whorehouse, military base, or temporary spots he wouldn't even shit in. All shared spaces. Not something that was... his. Though of course he lives with you, you are his s/o but you're different. No, he lived... with you. You own this house together. It's his. It's yours. It's yours (plural).

He can't clean as properly as he use to, getting down on the ground and scrubbing top to bottom and every single crack in the room, of course he can't do that anymore so - and to make him feel better, feel good and comfortable in your own home together you do it, you keep the place always spotless. And he still wants to actively clean of course, the process has always been therapeutic for him, he just can't do it as thorough as he once did but he still will do what he can from the confines of sitting down while you do all the very high and very low lifting.

His senses are still sharp, even with his half blindness. But even still, you always make sure to stand on his good side and if your on the blind you make sure to audibly announce your presence even if he could probably still sense you - Ackerman biology boosting it by tenfold, after all - you do it because it's polite and he does appreciate that.

Mostly handles things with his good hand anyway but is in the habit of dropping things whenever it comes to his less-good one, there's only so much you can do with only three fingers (including thumb) on one hand without being issues. It takes awhile before he even let's you hold that hand again and when he does the first several times he always hesitates, but it all flutters away when you carefully and gently intertwine your fingers with his good ones and your pointer and middle finger lovingly folds over his numbs. Or when you kiss delicately at each of his knuckles on that hand... it's weirdly sweet, weirdly romantic, he thinks.

It's been three years now. Domestic bliss is something Levi never thought existed - or he he did, never, never ever in his thirty-seven year life would he ever think he'd get to live such a thing. The two of you sit in front of the lake off to the side of your cabin, sitting on a lunch-bench watching on as Gabi and Falco are completely red in the face, awkwardly and loudly confessing their feelings to one another in only that embarrassingly sweet way teenagers could. It's sweet... to watch on. You look over and see the small, subtle yet warm, soft smile on Levi's lips. Proud of them, those two dumb kids that's been helping the two of you out for years now. You laugh, causing him to look over at you.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing,"

The giggling in your chest dies down as you watch as the two kids untactfully bump their faces together in an attempted kiss but Falco jolts back holding his forehead in pain, and Gabi's face to turn an even darker red as she yells something at him.

"Do you think we're too old now to act like that?"

Grey eye rolls. "When have I ever acted like that?"

"Oh I can name quite the few times when we first first started dating-"

He suddenly grabs at your face with a: "Hush." before kissing you, the worn stitches on his lips against yours always feel nice. Then he leans back, staring at you with lingering thoughts before his eye flicks back over to the kids now sweetly in each other's arms.

"You know, I was going to ask you something today but those brats decided to go ahead and make it about themselves..." He says, no real malice in his voice, just teasing. But you tilt your head out of curiosity.

"Ask me what?"

He sits back on the bench and stares out onto the lake. His wheelchair is parked off to the side, it's in a bag. He could reach over and pluck it out now. It was something he actually picked out years ago... something he never thought he needed because he never expected to reach this point together with you but Hanji talked his ear off into buying it and Erwin gave him this... teasing encouraged look with that weird smile of his that he'll never forget for the rest of his life. And he's kept it with him, all the time, it's always been on him in some shape or form. Honestly he wasn't sure how you didn't manage to find it already.

He looks back over to you and you're still intently staring back over at him. Maybe. Maybe he still could now.

"Ask me what?"

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #hange zoe #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe #hanji zoe x reader #hanji x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #erwin #hange #levi #mine #gender neutral reader #attack on titan fluff

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qqueenofhades · 1 year ago

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-Runs back into the room from having been wrapped up in the Sub Shitshow- context PLEASE on what’s up with Putin!?

Lol okay buckle up:

Yevgeny Prighozin is (well, as of now) one of Putin's closest allies. He is Putin's former chef and now the CEO of Wagner Group, the Russian private army of mercenaries who have spent a decade plundering Africa and destroying Syria in the employ of various terrible local dictators. Since the invasion of Ukraine, Wagner has become one of the Russian army's mainstays, mostly because they're the only ones who seem able to actually do anything. Of course, it did still take them nine months to take Bakhmut, Ukraine's *checks notes* 53rd largest city with very little strategic value, but given what a shitshow the regular Russian army has been, that's good. Or something.

The Russian army is mostly good at destroying dams and bombing civilians, which are obviously terrible for many reasons, but not that useful in the military scheme of things.

However, Wagner are also -- I hasten to stress -- thoroughly terrible people. Aside from all the shit in Africa and Syria, they've done likewise in Ukraine and will continue to do so. Legally speaking, they technically "don't exist," which has allowed them to get around a lot of the usual rules and regulations that are supposed to "bind" (ha) the Russian army. They are obviously in Ukraine directly at Putin's behest and doing Putin's bidding, but it turns out that giving an ambitious and amoral psychopathic warlord his own private army of criminals, rapists, killers, and whoever else they can dredge out of Russia's prisons to throw at the front line and die en masse may not be a good idea?

Shocking, I know.

Anyway, Prigozhin has spent months ripping into the Russian Minister of Defense, Sergei Shoigu, for what a whole shitshow clusterfuck this whole stupid war patently is. (Not, however, that this has stopped him from continuing to eagerly carry it out, since he's just as much or indeed even more of a zealot as the rest of Putin's government.) This has included blaming Shoigu for equipment losses, underprovisioning of Wagner troops, general strategic numbnuttery, etc. Prigozhin has not, however -- again, until now -- attacked Putin directly, or backed off from getting his losers killed in Bakhmut and/or wherever else. One suspects that Putin has been perfectly happy to let Prigozhin scapegoat Shoigu for the war's failures, since this means Shoigu can always just conveniently fall out a window or something if it gets too necessary to make a public show of displeasure, and not Putin.

HOWEVER, things took a turn VERY FAST today, within about 12 hours. Prigozhin has, as noted, spent months tearing the Russian military leadership a new asshole -- not because he's a good guy (he's a fucking war criminal on like, 10 different levels), but because it is plainly obvious what a shitshow this is and even a war criminal has his limits as to how much totally pointless murderous bullshit he wants to go through, I guess. (That includes telling the truth about why the war started -- i.e. to steal Ukrainian stuff/land for the oligarchs, and not any of Putin's other stupid excuses.)

Today (June 23) Prigozhin accused the Russian Ministry of Defense of orchestrating a rocket attack on Wagner's camp in eastern Ukraine (near the Russian border) and causing massive casualties;

We don't have proof of this yet, or indeed much else of what Prigozhin is talking about, BUT he finally decided to put his Coup Hat On and get serious about "punishing" Russian military leadership, i.e. presumably Shoigu, declaring that "there are 25,000 of us [Wagner soldiers] and we're coming into Russia to sort out this chaos"

So -- again, according to Prigozhin, who is not the world's most reliable source on anything -- he turned his army of yoinks around, left Ukraine, and marched into the southwestern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don, where the Russian military command in charge of the assault on Ukraine is headquartered;

For a while, there was nothing but Prigozhin's various unhinged rants on Telegram to prove any of this, but it's now early tomorrow morning in Russia and there are indeed a lot of videos of what DOES IN FACT LOOK like Wagner mercenaries rolling into Rostov and storming Ministry of Defense buildings;

Firm information on what is going on is almost nonexistent, even for Russia, but Putin is clearly taking this seriously; Moscow is shut down, there are armored vehicles on the streets, Google is down in Russia, and Russian newscasters are interrupting their broadcasts to insist Don't Look, Everything Is Fine Here, Totally Fine, Do You Hear Swan Lake? I Don't Hear Swan Lake!

Nobody can find Putin either, allegedly, but don't worry! He has been "briefed on the situation and everything is under control!"

The Russian FSB (successor to the KGB) has meanwhile issued a warrant for Prigozhin's arrest, said they'll charge/prosecute him for treason and armed rebellion against the state, and ordered him to stand down/his own men to arrest him

This, uh, does not appear to be working

ANYWAY, Putin's basically fucked no matter how this ends. Wagner literally just led an armed mutiny, he can't feel good about sending his ex-bestie Prigozhin back to Ukraine with any confidence that his orders will continue to be obeyed, it's Russian-on-Russian open war in the streets of Rostov and God knows where else, he's totally lost control of the narrative, the war, the domestic political situation, Wagner, probably good chunks of the Russian military command/elite establishment, etc., and we all know what happens to dictators in Russia who can no longer dictate

(And yet the Russian army is still finding time to lob some missiles at civilian buildings in Kyiv tonight, because they suck).

This is obviously a huge lucky break for Ukraine as well, since if the Russians are busy fighting each other, they can continue to push for a big breakthrough on their counteroffensive.

So yeah. Pride Month really wheeling out the big guns here, after Putin was the top option picked for Lady Karma to do her thing on in my poll a few weeks ago.

Stay tuned.

#anonymous #ask #russia ukraine war

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intergalactic-garbage · 4 months ago

Text

true facts about little alex horne

he can fit a penny in the gap between his teeth

has exactly 30% fewer bones than the average person

comes into work with his sandwiches cut into fingers, because he believes they "taste better"

tina turner once described him as "simply the best", and in a separate conversation, "a complete arsehole"

goes around the supermarket following people he thinks look cool, and when they pay and throw away the receipt, picks it up, and buys what they bought

nibbles and scurries his way through life like a long human rat

has his mantra going in his head at all times, and it's "absoluta pulsis voluptatem" (absolute driving pleasure)

when naked, looks like a weird, ill monkey

has crumbs in his beard dating back to the 90's

when it comes to childcare, he doesn't think his wife rachel "pulls her weight"

he doesn't really like women, because he thinks they've gotten a bit "too chopsy of late"

walks like a weird victorian clockwork toy soldier

is the answer to the question "what happens if you throw chunks of pork at a revolving carwash brush?"

his new years' resolution was "bringing back the patriarchy"

his first french kiss was with his second cousin jacob, now a legal underwriter on the isle of man

he doesn't think the NHS is very good, and according to him, some nurses are "lazy"

cries every time he watches free willy, and frees his willy every time he cries

has a separate bank account that his wife doesn't know about

as a child was so irritating, that his mother paid for "a barrage of medical tests"

he's scared of three things: slugs, small spaces, and women being allowed to vote

was once chased and bitten by a peacock in a day he refers to as "the day [he] lost [his] children's respect"

thinks all primary school teachers are the scum of the earth

thinks the refuge team that collects his bins every week are "stupid" and "don't deserve to be paid"

thinks climate change is a hoax propagated by "liberal pussies who don't know how to party"

sometimes deliberately revs his engine in traffic, because it makes him feel "like [he's] in charge of all women"

"[doesn't] know much about politics, but [he thinks] poor people should stop moaning and pull their flipin' fingers out"

is the answer to the question "what does a corpse look like when a corpse continues to grow hair post-mortem?"

his father has only ever given him one christmas gift, a beautifully wrapped piece of welsh slate, that had one solitary word engraved upon it. that word? toad.

until the age of 14 thought his penis was an eleventh finger, with the specific purpose of putting stamps onto letters

when he was young, used to practice kissing on his grandfather's pet carp "mr. suckles"

his slogan is "friendless oddball"

if it was up to him, scotland would be physically sawn off from the UK, and floated into the north sea. horne stated that "we'll soon find out how much they want independence when all they've got to eat is shortbread"

when his wife shouts at him, he whispers "get lost" under his breath

his children call him "little alex horne"

once got dragged 11 miles through the open country side by holding on to what he believed to be a horse's "fifth leg"

makes up tasks in his jacuzzi, and knows he's got a "good one", because "[his] bald ferret breaks the surface for air"

if he sees the pilot of any plane he boards is a woman, he immediately leaves

once hospitalized himself by doing high kicks to toxic by britney spears

🎶 he says he's over six foot but he's five foot four 🎶 little alex horne! 🎶

without hair would be as physically featureless as one sausage

ran away with a circus, but was sent back home, because he was annoying everyone and upset the animals

at some point nearly every day, he cries

once did a poo in a paddling pool

pretty woman is his favourite film

collects teapots that look like cottages

has no respect for the military, and if any soldier came up to him in public, "[he] could easily have them coz they're all stupid"

his head is shaped like the rubber of a pencil, and his body is shaped like a pencil

statistics are his foreplay and spreadsheets his post-coital cigarette

his wife keeps a pocketful of treats for when he remembers to "do toilet outside"

is single-handedly keeping the plastic shoe industry alive

once wet himself on a train when he was 30

hasn't bought car tax or insurance since the 90's, because he thinks it's an example of "big government"

#memento mari #little alex horne #taskmaster #taskmaster uk #tm uk #taskhusbands #these are just some of my favourites #the autism jumped high on this one #spent a few solid hours on this #enjoyed it tremendously #thank u tm uk writers for blessing us with these consistently #alex horne

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oceantornadoo · 5 months ago

Text

put me to bed (simon riley x f!reader)

part 6 of the two lieutenants series (can be read standalone)

—

“siii.” you knocked again. “simon, it’s meee.”

the door swung open and you almost stumbled through, the alcohol in your veins refusing to keep you upright. however, your reflexes won the fight for balance, right hand shooting out to grab at the door frame. you were face to face with simon’s pajamas, a relaxed t-shirt and sweats you’d never seen him in. it felt almost illegal, like this sight was meant for someone else. like you stole it.

“‘case you haven’t noticed, ‘s 2am.” his voice was low and gravel-filled. “i know, si. not even close to your bedtime yet.” the aching truth of your point, that he never sleeps before 3am, was softened by your drunk hiccup. you finally took the effort to raise your head, eyes locking onto his. he didn’t have his mask on, a sight you usually treasured sober, but now, it made drunk you mad. real mad.

“whatever, fuck this. jus’ wanted to say goodnight since you didn’t want to come out with us. with me.” you turned with a vengeance, stumbling in your going-out shoes as you made for your own room across base. before you could get too far, simon grabbed your arm, tugging you into his intoxicating presence. “had some paperwork to finish, dove. don’t get your panties in a twist.” you gasped. "i didn’t realize british people actually said shit like that. and", you punctuated this with a finger to his chest, “don’t think about my panties, riley. those words don’t exist to you.” he didn’t respond. typical man.

a few seconds later, he showed you why. he swooped you up bridal style with the gall of a military man who had to practice rescuing teammates in gear twice your size. he even caught your purse as it dropped to the floor, thick fingers wrapping around cheap leather as he settled all of you into place. “cheeky fucker.” he murmured under his breath, more to himself than to you. simon turned and locked his door, then strode down the hall like this was normal, everyday behavior. the swaying motion mixed with the drinks in your stomach and you gripped his shirt in fear that you’d throw up on. simon didn’t seem to care, prioritizing speed as he searched for your room. after a few minutes of charged silence, and prayers for a calm stomach on your end, he set you down with the gentleness of a man taking in a stray. all light touches, coaxing your keys out of your purse while keeping you upright as you swayed against him. simon opened the door and ushered you in with restrained arrogance, like he could tell you what to do.

“bed, dove.” instead of walking over to your bed, you gripped his bicep and held him in place. “no shoes. germs.” he chuckled, fingers ghosting over your cheek as he rubbed at your smeared makeup. “go’on.” you squeezed his arm as you bent down to take your shoes off. his hand found your lower back to balance you, but he was content to watch you struggle with your strappy heels. call it retribution for disturbing his night.

“can’t get ‘em off, pretty girl?” you shook your head, then remembered he couldn’t see you in the darkness of your room. “no…” he maneuvered you to your bed, ignoring your protests, and plopped you down, hands firm on your waist. “no light, si.” turning on the light would ruin this peaceful silence, would bring reality back into the mix. you weren’t ready for that, content to stay in this cloud nine as you sobered up and let simon take care of you. he answered you by taking off your shoes, one by one. simon was trying to treasure your sudden docileness, fumbling with your shoes as he thought of his next excuse to stay longer. maybe help you take your makeup off? he assumed you’d want to with that deliriously endearing mess of lipstick on your face. the image of you kissing someone at the bar arose unbidden in his mind, and he squashed it with a glare. unfortunately, that was when your hands had decided to explore his face in the dark, fingers tracing the lines of his anger. “i’m sorry. you’re angry. i just thought- but ‘sokay, i can do the rest. thanks for your help, l.t.” he jerked his head up at the nickname, a sudden nod to the context of your relationship, the two lieutenants of the 141. it felt dirty here, to put a light on all the reasons why this couldn’t happen.

“‘s not you, ‘s the shoes. bloody death traps.” he had finally finished the second one, slipping it off neatly so it wouldn’t dirty your floor. “what’s next?” you hummed in thought. “shower. no outside clothes in bed!” you ended with a cheer. simon wondered how you showered drunk all those times before him, then quickly regretted imagining you naked and wet. “come on.” he walked you two to your en-suite shower (perks of being a lieutenant, not that you were on base enough to take advantage of it). regrettably, he turned on the bathroom light, trying to ignore how your body scrunched up. “need my makeup remover.” you pointed to a blue container and he grabbed it. “i can do it-“ he genuinely shushed you with a finger to the lips, shaking his head. “show me.” he nodded to the unscrewed container. you took his fingers in your hand, dipping them into the oily balm. you moved them to your face, dragging them across your skin ungracefully. “then you kinda massage it in. make sure you get everywhere, can’t mess up my routine.” his lips quirked up at your sass. some things never changed.

simon moved his fingers around your face, rubbing off layers of foundation, setting powder, and everything in between. his free hand settled at your waist, keeping you steady under his touch. he took a pointer finger to your lips, dragging his callouses over your soft skin, memorizing the feel of it. he took care with your lashes, gently closing your eyes before rubbing off your mascara. he made sure to go up to your hairline, like he’d seen in the movies. simon riley didn’t know how to be gentle, but he’d try for you.

“now what?” the question moved through the still air as if breaking a trance. you almost flinched at the intrusion, having practically fallen asleep standing in his arms. “shower.” you croaked out, all soft and sweet. “can you unzip me?” he nodded even though your eyes remained closed, his hand on your waist turning you around until your stomach kissed the bathroom counter. using his clean hand, simon traced the bare skin above your dress before settling on the zipper. he brought himself closer, pelvis kissing your backside as he tried to control his body’s reaction. unfortunately, you noticed. he was starting to hate how visible he was to you, ghost gone to the wind.

“simon.” you rewarded him with a throaty moan, dropping your elbows on the counter as you pushed your ass into him. “please, please si.” he continued to drag the zipper down like he counted hear you, revealing each torturous inch of skin. “be good.” he growled, your spine straightening at the command. “lieutenant.” you were mewling under him, the dregs of alcohol making you all pliant. he didn’t want you like that for your first time together, putty in his hands. he wanted your bark and bite, which wouldn’t happen tonight. it didn't matter. ghost was a very patient man. “done.” you dropped your arms and the dress dropped with them, revealing your lack of bra and lace panties. here he was again, thinking of your panties. your eyes were still closed under the weight of the oil on your skin, giving him an unabashed view of your breasts in the mirror. perfect.

simon wiped his makeup-stained hand on his shirt, not caring about the marks it would leave. his thumbs met either side of your waist, digging into your skin and under your panties, pulling them down easily. you were wet between your thighs, proof staining your underwear. he sucked in a harsh breath at the evidence of your need, evidence it wasn’t all in his head. instead of pressing his nose to the source of your arousal, he left your side to turn on your shower. water running, he stepped back and put a guiding hand on your waist. “go’on.” you followed meekly, muscle memory taking over as you stepped into the shower. you tilted your head to the spray of water, clearing off your face. he chose to not close the shower curtain, opting to watch you clear the mess and open your eyes with a grin. “shower with me.” he shook his head, holding back a grimace as he watched the smile die on your face. "no, baby." always ruining things, like his fucking father. "then why are you here?" he shook his head again, regretting that the shower had sobered you up. regretting how he still hadn't closed the shower curtain, letting water spray on the floor as he drank in your body. regretting his clear lack of self-control when it came to you. "you know why." he closed the shower curtain and left.

he didn't actually leave. he was too weak for that. instead, he searched through your drawers, finding those shorts you always wore paired with his shirt you stole months ago and never gave back. it smelled like you now, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. the shower shut off, sounds of you brushing your teeth and putting on lotion floating through the air. he turned on your lamp and set out a glass of water, suddenly feeling awkward in your space. simon turned and there you were, water dripping on the floor, towel gripped loosely.

"i thought you left." he shook his head, forcing himself to gesture to the clothes he set out. instead of thanking him, you dropped your towel on the floor. simon hissed, sucking in the sight of your moisturized skin, the scent of it calming him. you, mostly sober now, trotted over to the clothes, putting them on nonchalantly. "if you won't fuck me, you can leave. i'm sorry for waking you up." lie. you both knew he was already awake when you knocked. simon had been texting soap for updates all through the night, knowing you were on your way back before you knocked. "c'mon." he ignored you completely, instead pulling at your covers to get you in bed. you rolled your eyes but followed his command, brushing past him as you got in bed. "g'night, dove." he turned off the lamp solemnly, no reflection of emotion on his face. "simon." he paused, holding his breath. "stay." you could hear him thinking in the dark. "not gonna fuck you. not tonight. it's more t' me than that." you smiled. "i know. stay."

i try not to write anything body size specific but i headcanon that simon riley is #thick in all the ways that matter and can lift anyone (even if you identify as a fat person or a tall person or anything in between) if he tries hard enough. i hope that sentence didn't take you out of the reading experience!!!

also i have no idea how military bases are laid out so ignore that

#two lieutenants🌪️#soft sleep deprived simon is my favorite #this is self insert because i shower when drunk #yes im insane #yes im projecting #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #tornadothoughts #cod ghost

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megamindsecretlair · 1 month ago

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Hiii so ik Halloween is coming up! So I wanna know if you could do another jack the reacher fic! (Love that man) Basically y/n spend every single day with your bf except for Halloween. Y/n has been with him for 2 years now and it’s kinda getting old. So ofc this year like always he tells y/n to stay away from him on Halloween. He’ll suggest visiting your parents or hanging with friends at party just something to keep her busy until his little spell is over. Though what y/n doesn’t know is every Halloween he turns into a werewolf, demon, orc…. (Anything you want! Your choice of monster!) He definitely doesn’t want his precious gf to see that! He just can’t control anything while he’s in that mode and he definitely doesn’t want to be near y/n while this happens. He doesn’t wanna hurt or. ….break her. Buttttt y/n doesn’t listen and goes to see him anyways, she acts like she’s leaving when in reality we stayed just to see what goes on. At first the speculation was cheating…ofc our loving bf wouldn’t do that to us right..?? So the reader sneakily finally finds out what her boyfriend is hiding and BOY IS SHE IN FOR QUITE THE RIDE! *I have a cnc kink and manhandling kink, and I would love for the reader to just be bratty in general! Cause as you can see we don’t listen! 🤭 He should definitely put reader in a full nelson….sigh me and my delusions

Ps. Can the reader be black! And plus size thank you!

General Note: I do not, have not, and will never write non-con.

Pairing: Werewolf!Jack Reacher x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. PWP, PIV, Cursing, SMUT, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, cum play, primal play, bratty reader, Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: See Ask. With the exception of non-con. Halloween happened to be your favorite holiday and you wanted nothing more than to spend it with your sweet boyfriend, Reacher. However, Reacher had other plans that didn’t involve you. Upset with your plans ruined, you decided to disobey his strict order to stay at your parents’ house. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, you only knew that you wanted answers. Patience was never your strong suit.

AO3 Link

Word count: 5,847k

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive!! LOL.I have no excuses for myself other than WHEW!!! This broke me. I need to go hose myself down. Happy Halloween-Eve everyone! Enjoy! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Something was wrong with your boyfriend.

You eyed him as he grew more antsy during the week leading up to Halloween, only your favorite time of the year. You loved the costumes, the makeup, the scares, and thrills. It spoke to your soul in a way no other holiday did.

Similar to last year, Reacher grew more agitated. Little things pissed him off. When he wasn’t working a case for the Army’s Military Police, he walked around like a bear with a thorn in his paw.

He was never mean to you. Never snapped. Never treated you as anything other than his adorable girlfriend. Even now, on the actual holiday, he was putting together a bookshelf for you because your old one broke from all of the books you had.

You sat on the floor beside him, handing him different screws and allen wrenches whenever he asked. You loved days like these. Loved seeing him domesticated.

“I was thinking you might go with your parents again today,” Reacher said, unprompted.

You blinked your eyes at him and tilted your head. “For…Halloween? Again?” You asked.

“Yeah. You said you had fun last year so…” he said, letting the sentence dangle while he studied the instructions once more. He made it sound innocent, but your warning bells went off instantly.

Your mind trailed to the slutty nurse outfit in the back of your closet. You had…plans. You had an entire night planned of passing out candy to the kids until it got too late. Then you were going to take him to your room and give him some tender love and care.

All of that flew out of the window…again. Last year, he made the excuse that he was in the middle of an important case and wasn’t able to spend the holiday with you. You knew dating someone in the military would have its ups and downs but you figured that living close to the base meant that he’d be around more.

This year, however, you made sure that he hadn’t taken on any new cases. You gently steered him to take the time to rest. Not that the big brute knew the meaning of the word. He was like a machine, always moving forward. Never settling. You never wanted to dim his wanderlust but…didn’t you deserve to spend your favorite holiday with your boyfriend?

You could deal with everything else. You could deal with the missed nights, the long cases, the confidentiality. You trusted him. Yet…was he cheating? Was that it? Why this specific night?

“Reacher, I’d kind of like to spend the holiday with you. I had a few surprises planned actually,” you said.

Reacher looked up from screwing in a shelf and looked at you. He was always so severe. Mouth pressed into a thin line and eyebrows raised like he wasn’t in the mood for any lip talk. He smoothed out his eyebrows and his mouth drooped into a smirk.

“I’m sorry. I know how much this holiday means to you. I have something important to do,” he said.

“Like? Is there a reason I have to leave my own home for this?” You asked. He held out his hand for the next screw and you handed it to him. His palm was hot to the touch, hotter than normal.

You looked back at him and really looked him over this time. Your boyfriend always ran hot but he was scorching. He was sweating a bit too even though the temperature outside was below sixty and dropping by the hour.

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked. You leaned up onto your knees, letting your fluffy skirt settle around your thighs, as you placed the back of your hand to his forehead. You snatched your hand back with a hiss and rubbed it.

“You’re burning up! Do you need to go to the hospital?” You asked.

“I don’t get sick,” he said, his mouth lifting into a smirk.

You huffed. “Everyone gets sick, Reacher. Even you,” you said. Though, come to think of it…you’d never seen him so much as sneeze.

“I don’t get sick,” he said, leaning over to peck your lips. His lips were warm too but you welcomed the kiss and wished he’d ditch the bookshelf and come play with you. Ever the stickler for accomplishing his honey-do list, he leaned away from you and went back to assembling the bookcase.

“I’d feel better if you were with your parents where your father can look after you,” he said.

You sat back on your knees and huffed. “I don’t need a big strong man to look after me, Reacher,” you said. The last thing you wanted was to spend the best holiday of the year around your boring ass family.

Your father had also been in the military and his hard ass didn’t understand anything he couldn’t see. Trying to carve out time for spooky shenanigans in a cold house full of rules and expectations was hard enough growing up. You always felt like a toddler retreating to your parents’ house, where your larger than life father treated you like his baby girl.

And Reacher knew that. He stopped working and looked at you. “I just want you safe when I can’t look after you myself,” he said.

“Because…?” You asked. You needed a reason. He had to give you a valid reason. Because if this became an every year type of situation, you’d have to sit and talk with him about it. You didn’t ask for much. Reacher rarely denied you. So what was the problem?

Reacher smiled and wiped his brow. He could claim he wasn’t sick all he wanted but he sure looked like it. Since when he did he sweat like this, inside the house, wearing nothing but a black T-shirt and sweats?

“You know I can’t tell you,” he said.

You pouted and turned doe eyes on him. Reacher sighed and chuckled, looking away from you finally. “Please?” You asked. You scooted closer, sidling up to his big, thick body and placed your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t,” he said.

“Pretty please?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. You dialed up the cuteness, making your eyes as wide as they would go.

“It’s not going to work,” he said. But you already heard the resolve in his voice weaken. He tried to work with you on his shoulder but you rubbed your cheek against his bare arm. He sighed and pulled you into him, kissing your forehead.

“You know being a brat doesn’t work on me. Come on, help me put this up before it’s too late,” he said.

“Too late? Got a hot date somewhere?” You asked, leaning away from him. You were only half joking. You wouldn’t seriously be with someone if you thought they had the capacity to cheat. Reacher was loyal through and through, almost doggedly so.

“Smart ass. No. I want to get you to your parents before it gets too dark outside,” he said.

He was really adamant about that. You deflated, sinking onto the floor and handing him the next screw. Reacher glanced at you and sighed. “Please don’t hate me. I’m only looking out for you,” he said.

“I know, Reacher,” you said. You would just have to…make do. You’d leave the bowl of candy outside and let the kids take whatever they wanted. You could watch kids on the ring camera and scare them when they least expected. It wouldn’t be the same but at least you’d get to see some kind of excitement tonight. Too bad it wouldn’t be by riding your boyfriend until the morning light.

You continued to help him with the bookshelf but your heart was no longer in it. You handed him screw after screw, letting the whir of the fan be the only sound in the room.

Reacher thrived in silence so you didn’t expect him to fill it with useless conversation. Now you just felt stupid sitting in your costume. If he knew that he wanted you to go to your parents’ house, couldn’t he have said so before you dressed up?

Sure, you had hours to go before nightfall. Before the kids and adults began walking around the neighborhood in their cute, creative outfits and bags or bowls of candy. But…this sucked.

You pouted as he finished the bookshelf. You kissed him to thank him but swiftly retreated to your room to get ready. You already knew the drill. You removed your costume and threw on your own pair of joggers and one of Reacher’s shirts. It fit you like a dress but it was comfy and smelled like him.

Reacher got dressed in record time, damn near whistling now that you agreed to go to your parents’ house. You watched him move stiffly, like he was in pain but would never admit it. Things just weren't adding up. Your intuition was screaming at you, warning you that something wasn’t right here.

You watched him carefully as he continued to wipe his brow or sniffle. If he were sick, he would tell you, right? He swiftly locked up the house, practically kicking you out of the house. He opened the car door for you, ushered you inside, and then hopped into the truck himself.

You still eyed him as he flew through traffic, making it to your parents’ house in twenty minutes flat.

“You’re being weird,” you said when he parked in the driveway. Your parents’ house was in the middle of a cul-de-sac. The perfect environment for trick or treaters. Yet, this was the most geriatric neighborhood with only one young couple living at the end of the block and they didn’t have kids.

You’d be lucky if anyone stopped down this street tonight. It was usually dark, lacking decorations, and no one turned on their porch lights. It was the opposite of your place. This place was dull and void of anything resembling fun.

“I know. And I’m sorry,” he said. He reached out to take your hand, his hand burning to the touch. You held on anyway and turned to him. Turned to the man you were madly, wildly in love with.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” You asked.

“I promise nothing’s wrong. After tonight, I’ll work on a healthier work-life balance,” he said.

He kissed the back of your hand and you turned to his soft eyes. He still looked the same when he looked at you. Still radiated the same amount of love that was likely reflected in your own eyes. You were going to talk about this. There were no ifs or buts about it. You were going to talk and he was going to listen.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said.

Reacher kissed your hand one more time before exiting the truck and walking around to open your door. He helped you climb out of his massive truck and then walked with you to your front door, head on a swivel as if you were being watched. He sniffed the air and you found yourself looking around as well.

You used your keys to enter your parents’ house, calling out to them. Your mother rounded the corner immediately, opening her arms and drawing you into a hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans?” Your mother asked.

“Plans changed,” you said before Reacher could start in with that bullshit line. ‘Duty calls’, your ass. You had half a mind to follow him wherever he tried to go tonight.

Your mother stepped away and then hugged Reacher, looking incredibly tiny compared to how big Reacher was. The idea took root in your mind as they spoke about you and how this was your favorite holiday. Your mother droned on about how you were as a child, trying to draw vampires and werewolves on pieces of paper for decorations. What she didn’t say was that your father tore them down and promptly turned off the lights, not wanting to give the wrong impression. And save money to boot.

Your mind formulated the plan quicker than you could keep up with. You could wait until night time, keeping an eye on the ring camera, and then take your mother’s car back to your place. You’d get to the bottom of why Reacher absolutely needed the house to himself for this one special night a year. Once was a fluke. Twice was intentional.

Your father lumbered into the room, eyes squinting at the intrusive noises. He looked Reacher up and down before breaking into a wide grin. “Reacher,” your father said.

“Sir,” he said back, grabbing and shaking your father’s hand. You eyed them both coolly, wondering how you ended up with two pig-headed men. Done with the niceties, Reacher pecked you respectfully on the cheek.

“I’ll call you when I get home. And then I’ll make it up to you, promise,” he said. You saw the twinge of heat in his eyes. The sparkle of mischief that let you know that he absolutely would make it up to you. It would probably involve intense oral and your pussy throbbed just thinking of him sitting between your legs until you begged for mercy.

You waved goodbye to him and watched him walk out of the door, already turning to your mother with a sweet smile. “Can I borrow your car later?”

Night time fell in waves, turning the sky from dusty blue to purplish black. Few stars twinkled overhead as you drove your mother’s car to your place. There were more cars out and you kept getting distracted by everybody in their amazing costumes.

However, you kept your phone on while looking at the video of your front door. You had a back door as well but Reacher rarely used it. Since coming home earlier, he hadn’t shown any sign that he left.

You were being paranoid. You knew this. You knew that he told you to stay away from the house and you were supposed to be at your parents’, trapped in your little tower, but you had a gnawing pit in your stomach.

What if he was sick? What if he was lying on the floor of your bedroom, delirious and out of his mind? This was just a wellness check. That was what you told yourself to justify disobeying his precious orders. In reality, your curiosity ate at you. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you knew for certain that Reacher was okay. That he was just poring over disturbing case files. Or whatever the hell he did on base.

You parked a few houses down from your place and then carefully made your way down the street. You smiled at kids in their costumes, remarked on how creative they were, and then sidled up to your house.

Little did your Reacher know, there were a few blindspots in the cameras. The camera angles couldn’t cover everything. There was one narrow slip down the side of the house that none of the cameras caught.

Your heart pounded in your chest and your legs wobbled but you were here now. Had to see it through.

You walked to the backyard, careful to avoid the back camera. You’d have to hope he wasn’t looking at his phone when you were ready to enter. Your boots crunched on dead leaves underfoot, sounding as loud as bone crunching. Your heart beat rapidly, creating a booming drum in your chest.

A stiff wind blew across your skin and you shivered as you hovered at the side of the house. This was nuts. You were a grown woman sneaking around your own home. Reacher was active military and was not expecting you. If he thought you were an intruder and shot you, you wouldn’t know what to tell Jesus.

“Sorry, Lord, I thought he was cheating on me.” What a stupid way to meet your end. Rationale kicked in with the dropping temperature. You shivered, pulling your phone out of your pocket and scrolling to Reacher’s number.

His thumbnail was a rare picture you managed to snap after you smeared ice cream on his nose during a mini vacation. He had his eyes closed but a clear, goofy grin on his face. It was your favorite. He didn’t deserve this. None of this.

Rattling chains tore your attention from your phone to the back of your house. Chains? What the fuck?

The chains rattled again followed by a low whine. It sounded like a wounded animal. Your fingers shook while holding your phone. You were frozen to the spot. Should you investigate? That was some grade A white people shit, but again, what if Reacher was sick? What if he was in trouble at this very moment?

You knew how to shoot thanks to Reacher’s careful instruction and need to keep you safe at all times. The only problem was, his guns were all locked up in the basement. You took a deep breath. You could be strong for Reacher.

The camera be damned, you jogged up to the back of the house and used your keys to get inside. The house was dark, lights off and no movement in the house. You wanted to call out, but you still didn’t know where the rattling chain sound was coming from.

You carefully picked your way through the house, turning on your flashlight. Even if a thief saw you, you just didn’t want Reacher to shoot your ass. You walked down the hallway, scanning the phone’s beam over every inch of space before you.

You definitely saw Reacher come inside and never leave. So where the fuck was he? Did he know about the blindspots too?

A high-pitched, animal-like whine tore through the house and turned your insides liquid with fear.

What. The. Fuck.

The beam of light shook, creating wavy shadows on the walls. You took a deep breath and decided to brave it. If there was a big ass animal stuck in your basement somehow, you needed to know. If Reacher was into some demon sacrifice shit, you absolutely needed to know right this second.

Your sexy bear was more than capable of handling himself. He had been nothing but sweet when it came to you. But you never truly knew a person. And if that motherfucker was summoning shit in your basement, you were going to scream bloody murder. Assuming you escaped from him.

You shook your head, stepping closer to the basement door underneath your stairs. The rattling and whines began to mix, creating a disharmonious screech against your eardrums. Enough to make them itch.

You opened the door and peered down the rickety stairs. You hated the basement. Hated going down the wooden slats that felt like it could give at any moment. The light was on down there with a large shadow moving to and fro.

You were going to be sick. What were you about to find? “Momma ain’t raise no bitch,” you muttered, clutching your phone to your chest. It was a small weapon, but it’d do.

You took the first step and then another, curiosity making your steps quicker. Like ripping off the band-aid, you just needed to see. Needed to know. If you were harboring a freak or a psycho killer this whole time, you were going to be sick. Not knowing was killing you.

With each step gained, more and more of the basement was revealed. You stepped low enough to peer under the ceiling and gasped, hand flying to your mouth.

A man-like figure stood with its paw on the cement wall, other hand thrusting furiously on its…dick. Its throbbing, dripping dick. The keening whines you heard were the excited moans of the figure, stroking its dick.

The figure was hairy all over, clearly naked, with pale skin poking beneath gray patches. The arms had muscle stacked on muscle and it had to be at least seven feet tall. Just barely missing the top of the ceiling. It stood on haunched legs, claws extended and scraped the cement flooring.

The snout was slightly elongated but somehow human with protruding canines poking from thin lips. “Fuuuuuck,” the beast growled.

You gasped, growing more aroused by the second. This was sick. This was hot. You watched as it bent its head towards a pillow with a long shirt draped over. It stepped closer to the pillow, chains rattling around its hind legs. You glanced at the long shirt. It kind of looked like…

Was that your shirt? Was the beast jerking itself off to your shirt? How long had this creature been here? Where did it come from? And where the hell was Reacher?

The beast tipped its head back, fingering the tip of its dick. Gathered up beads of pre-cum and then stroked itself again. Your name pushed from its lips sounding suspiciously like …

“Reacher?” You asked.

The beast turned its head completely to you. It was hard to tell but…those eyes. He couldn’t change those eyes.

He called your name, spreading his arms and looking like a deer in headlights. Maybe you should’ve kept your mouth shut. You wanted to see him cum.

“Leave!” He growled, his voice impossibly deep and animalistic. He stepped forward but the chains prevented him from getting too close to the stairs. You looked him over. You didn’t know how to deal with this.

Should you run? Should you call for help? Should you help him finish? You stepped down the rest of the stairs and Reacher held out his hand, urging you to stop. You did, one step from the ground.

Reacher paced, sniffing the air and whining. “Go away before I hurt you,” he said, his eyes glowing with fury. You heard the warning bells in your head but you were too full of lust to pay attention. This was an impossible dream come true. An entire fantasy brought to life. How many monster fucker books did you have on your brand new bookshelf thanks to Reacher?

“You won’t hurt me,” you said.

You had a million questions. How? How did he become this? How long had monsters been walking the planet and no one knew? No one had pictures. No one had proof. How?

Reacher pawed at his ear as if he were ready to burst from his skin. He continued to sniff the air, whines escaping from him as if he couldn’t help it. He was still fully erect, thick bead of pre-cum leaking down his tip and dropping to the floor. His dick was twice its normal size and stuffed. Your pussy clenched looking at it.

“Go away,” he growled. He was clearly a true mix of man and beast. It should scare you. It should be the last thing you entertained. But your eyes kept dropping to his dick.

“Reacher…”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pulling at the chains against his legs. The hook pulled from the wall and if he weren’t careful, he would break it altogether.

A tiny bit of self preservation told you to leave. To turn and close the door and leave him to…whatever the fuck was going on. You stepped backwards as he continued to whine and pull at the chains hooked into the wall.

The one holding his left foot down escaped from the wall entirely. He stopped whining and looked down at it. He slowly raised his furry face and tilted his head at you. His eyes narrowed and then he sniffed the air, getting closer to the ground until he was on all fours.

You backed away, keeping your eye on him. This was too new. You didn’t know what to do here. Should you run? Would he just catch you? You backed up the stairs and Reacher’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t any more.

You turned and ran just as the other chain came loose and then his booming steps were following close behind you. You swore you already felt hot breath on your neck as you exited the basement and ran towards the front door.

Reacher snarled, hot on your heels. Teeth snapping, howls splitting the air. You didn’t have the presence of mind to scream. Or yell for help. You passed by the living room just as Reacher’s massive body pushed you to the ground.

You fell forward with a thud and grunted, knees smarting from hitting the hard flooring. Reacher sniffed your hair and your body, excitable whines leaving him. Or were those moans?

He licked your cheek, long tongue lolling out of his mouth. He sniffed you more, hands searching your body but you didn’t know for what.

“What do you need?” You asked. You tried looking behind you. The room was pretty dark but enough light from the porch shone through your windows and illuminated parts of his face and body. His body hair was soft, snuggly, and you kept yourself still as he continued to paw at you. What was he looking for?

“You. You. You. You.” Reacher was out of his mind. He couldn’t stop chanting that word as he pawed and ripped at your clothes. He stopped and growled low in your ear. A moan escaped you anyway.

Fuck, you were turned on. Turned on to the max. Your panties were soaked with your essence as Reacher sniffed your neck, your back, and trailed down to your joggers. He growled as he caught your scent and then leaned down harder on you.

“Trying. To. Fight. Must. Go.”

“Why? What do you need? What do you need from me?” You asked.

“Can’t. Control.” He growled, grinding his pelvis against your legs and onto the floor.

“Sex? You need sex?” You asked. This was what he had been hiding from you? Did he not trust you with this?

“Don’t. Want. Hurt. You.” He grinded his hips again, a low, deep whine escaping him.

“You won’t hurt me. It’s okay,” you said. Hell, if it was sex he needed then you were more than game. You slid sideways and he growled, pressing his claw against your back to hold you down.

“It’s okay,” you said. You slowly flipped over, letting him know that you weren’t trying to escape. Once on your back, Reacher sniffed and pawed at you once more.

“Leave.” His eyes were full of anguish and despair. But he drooled and licked his chops. His teeth were large, sharp enough to cut through glass you bet.

Your hands moved to your joggers, peeling it off of your sweat-slick body. Your body thrummed with anticipation and adrenaline, the earlier chase only turning you on more. You kept your eyes on his as you shimmied out of your panties and pants.

He sniffed at your tummy, moving lower to your pussy. He groaned, a distinctly human sound, as he ground his hips into the floor. “Smell me. I want you. I want this. You won’t hurt me,” you said.

You lifted the hem of your shirt and took that off as well. Cold air hit your nipples but with the overbearing heat radiating off of him, it was manageable. Reacher sniffed at your exposed skin, licking your nipples. You moaned and arched your back. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, that felt amazing.

His long tongue captured your entire titty in one lick, leaving a neat trail of saliva on your skin. You shivered as he did it over and over, licking around your nipples. He went back and forth, alternating between them both. His nails clicked on the hardened floor as he braced himself, climbing up your body. He licked your neck and whined, adding in a moan that made your pussy flutter.

As if he heard it or possibly smelled the fresh slick between your thighs, he leaned back on his knees and then spread your legs. “Oh fuck,” you moaned. He was so..unhinged. He operated on instinct, spreading your legs as far as it would go.

“Sure?” Reacher asked. “Don’t. Hurt.”

“I’m sure, I’m sure,” you moaned.

Reacher reached down and used that wonderful tongue to lap at your aching pussy. You moaned and tried to close your legs to the onslaught of pleasure. Hell, you didn’t think you could go back to getting eaten out the regular way.

His tongue was beautiful and nasty as he latched onto your clit. His sharp canines grazed your pussy lips but never punctured skin. You writhed on the ground, pulling at his hair. He growled and increased his licking and sucking.

You were falling head first into a powerful, sinful orgasm that robbed you of sight and breath. Your hearing went out of one ear as you convulsed on his mouth, shivering and twitching.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” You cried. One orgasm led to another, making your entire body buck off of the ground. Reacher held you down with his paws, made you take his tongue between your thighs. He pushed his tongue into your dripping hole and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Fuck, just like that. Just like that,” you moaned, yanking at his hair. If it hurt him, you didn’t hear. You dug your nails into his scalp as he pulled another orgasm from you. Your thighs shook, the heels of your feet digging into the hardwood flooring.

Reacher lifted his head finally, licking his lips. Your essence dripped from his mouth and you licked your lips. Your hearing slowly returned as he grabbed your hips and flipped you over.

“Floor too hard,” you moaned. Fuck. He was about to take you doggy style. You couldn’t help arching your back and wiggling your ass. Reacher growled and then jumped to his feet with inhuman speed. As if he had extra muscles in this form that allowed him to move more smoothly.

He picked you up and then placed you onto the powder blue rug in your living room. Much better. He dropped to his knees and roughly grabbed your hips. He pulled until your back was arched once more, ass high in the air.

His claws dug into your ass cheeks as his dick poked and prodded at your entrance. You were dripping with slick, pussy clenching and unclenching at the back to back orgasms. But fuck, you wanted more. “Take what you need,” you moaned. “You won’t hurt me.” Even if he was rough, you’d accept it.

Reacher pushed in, met resistance, and kept going. You cried out, fingers clawing at the carpet. The stretch burned. He was far bigger than his normal size and you struggled to take him then. It took a lot of prep time to have sex with Reacher. It was beyond needed now. But you didn’t have time.

You were driven out of your mind with lust. The darkened room, the grunts and moans coming from his raspy throat, and your moans created a sweet symphony. You were drunk on it. Intoxicated by it. You tried to wiggle and push down on his dick.

Reacher howled as he sank further and deeper inside you, pushing beyond your limits. Stretching you out completely. You were completely stuffed and he still had more to go. “I can take you, baby. Keep going,” you gasped and moaned.

You shut your eyes to the sheer pleasure coursing through your body. His dick hit a deep spot inside you and you collapsed onto the floor as the orgasm tore through your body. You felt like you were split in half on his thrusting, throbbing dick.

“So good. So good. Needed.” Reacher moaned in between howls.

“Oh fuck. I can’t, I can’t,” you moaned. You drooled onto the carpet, body limp and weak. Reacher gripped your hips tighter, holding you, impaling you on his dick. He thrust a handful more times before he finally unloaded, stuffing you to the brim with his cum.

You were filled up like a pastry. He thrust harder, pushing it deeper inside of you. It was so much cum, it dripped out of you despite his dick keeping it inside like a plug. His cum leaked down the sides of your pussy lips, around your clit, and dropped onto the floor.

“One more,” Reacher said, sounding more like himself than before.

“I can’t, baby,” you whispered, voice completely gone from all the screaming and moaning you were doing.

“One more,” he said again. He pulled all the way out of you and then thrust back in. He did that over and over, wet smacks filling the air. Your pussy ached and throbbed but you continued to accept him into your body. You made room for him. Made room for his still hardened dick spearing you.

He whined, claws still digging into your hips. You were going to have bruises like a motherfucker in the morning. But it was so worth it. You clenched around his dick and Reacher moaned, faltering with his steady rhythm and sliding in much deeper than before. His tip kissed your G-spot and you came instantly, flooding his dick with your essence.

You screamed out, cries echoing and bouncing around the darkened room. Reacher finally pulled out and your pussy squelched.

You moaned and shivered as more of his cum leaked out of you. You gently fell to the side as Reacher cuddled up next to you on the floor. You petted his thick fur, mind blissfully quiet and empty.

You were nearly asleep when the doorbell rang. Reacher growled, clutching you to him. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you said.

You petted him until he calmed back down, settling down with a contented sigh. You grabbed the nearest throw blanket and wrapped it around yourself. “Who is it?” You called out.

“Police, ma’am,” a deep voice said.

You looked out of the peephole to see two officers in uniform standing outside your door. You threw a nervous glance towards Reacher who was still fast asleep. You cracked open the door and peeked out.

“Yes?” You asked.

“We got a few calls about strange noises coming from this address,” one of the police officers said.

“Sorry. Me and my boyfriend were going a little crazy with the whole Halloween theme,” you said.

The officer looked towards his partner and then glanced back at you. “Are you safe, ma’am?” He asked quietly.

You smiled and nodded your head. “I assure you, we’re good. More than good,” you said with a sleepy giggle. It was a miracle you were still on your feet. The officer gave you one last look and then tried to look behind you. But the door was only open a crack and there was nothing for him to see.

“If you need help, here’s my card,” he said. He handed you a card and you waved. You slammed the door in his face and locked it behind you.

You leaned against it with a bone weary sigh and rejoined your werewolf boyfriend on the floor. You were going to regret sleeping on the floor in the morning but for now, you couldn’t give a single damn.

Thank you for all the love for my first Reacher fic! The Secret Jack Reacher Files

Taglist:

@planetblaque @chaos-4baby @00aijia00 @amethyst09 @ciaqui

@we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kiwi-jelly-mochi @liyaah02

@thabiddie23 @melanated-writersblock @iwudbutnah @keyaho @cardierreh15

@titty-teetee @westside-rot

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Jack Reacher Files #Jack Reacher x Black!reader #Jack Reacher x Black reader #Jack Reacher x Fem!reader #Jack Reacher x Fem reader #Jack Reacher x plus size reader #x Black reader #x Fem reader #x plus size reader #Werewolf!Jack Reacher #Jack Reacher #Alan Ritchson #Alan Ritchson fanfic #Reacher fanfic #Reacher fan fic #Reacher fan fiction #Reacher fanfiction #Reacher smut

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dragonridernoobie · 4 months ago

Note

How would three characters in the bayvers transformers reaction when they awaken an very ancient pedecon!dragon!reader, from their sleep under some dirt somewhere Latin America and they awoken a very angry old lady

( it be funny if it's okay if you add in a human character seeing a dragon and turns out she is the earth biggest troll for all the dragon related shenanigans )

Hmmm... interestingI will try my best. I hope you like it. also, you didn't say who you wanted, so i picked the 3 transformers i had the biggest crushes on because i can. Also, with the humans, I'm gonna do Sam, since the ones from darknight I dident care for since I always hated them by how much they pissed me off.

Bayvers Transformers X predicon Reader

The decpticons were at it again. They wanted to get the key from underneth the Pyramids in Egypt. They were needed to open a portal that leads to cyberton. The autobots wanted to use it for good so they could come back home, but the decpticons wanted to use it to destroy the earth and rule over it.

Aurobots obviously wouldn't let that happened so they countered the decpticons when they landed in Egypt. Thought tooth and nail to keep the decpticons away while sam and a few military men run into the pyramids to find this key.

While they search the many catacombs, they find a staircase that leads down. So they took it. Further they went, the darker and quiet it got. Eventually they come across a huge room.

It seemed to he a whole knew cave system that led to the other pyramids, but it all led to the same room. Right in the middle was a giant metal ball type thing.

Right infrotn of it was the key. It was floating on top of a cybertronian structure. When Sam got close to it, he felt how the cybertronian structure was releasing an energy that dident hurt but it was a tad uncomfortable.

With quick motion, he was quick to grab it and held it. It shrunk down to his size, and he could now put it in his pants pocket if he needed to.

Suddenly, the ground shook, and the little structure made a noise before it went underground, and the ball behind the structure lights up with cybertronian writing lighting up all around it.

The giant ball splits open with a hiss, and both sides fall over. Making the ground shake, and the noise echoed through the room. There, infront of them was a dragon type of transformer.

(What you look like) (not my artwork)

Its eyes snap open, and it opens its wings and lets out a powerful roar. It gets on its 4 legs and looks at the humans in front of it.

Its eyes focused on Sam, who was the key and roars. It's head ducks down to bite, but the military men where quick to dodge while bring Sam with them.

They quickly ran for the exit while trying not to get aten. Right when they pass through the door, the draon cybertronian blows a powerful stream of blue fire, and it nearly misses the humans.

When they ran to the surface, the ground shook more and more. Roars are heard getting louder and closer. The dragon was breaking its way through the pyramids.

When they escaped the pyramids, they ran straight to the autobots and tried to tell them what was coming, but it was too late.

The pyramids explode with a fire breath coming out of it and 2 massive wings. There, in front of the autobots and the decpticons who stood frozen. Was a massive predicon.

It was as nearly as huge as the pyramids. It roars at the cybertronians and then looked at Sam. It roared once again and spread its wings. It took flight and went for same. Once close enough, it tried to grab sam, but optimus hits it, making it crash into the ground.

The predicon gets up and roars. Ready for a fight.

Optimus

He readies his sword and blaster and yells at the predicon it means no harm.

He announces he is a prime to the predicon to see if it understood what it means.

It seems it did since it looked surprised and stopped charging the fire breath it was ready to unleash.

It came closer to prime and sniffed.

Once realized he spoke the truth. It bowed its head in understanding and to show respect.

Optimus wouldn't lie if he said he was surpised.

He quickly took aim at the decpticons when they started to shoot again.

Though, he dident see the predicon quietly watching and ready to fight.

He only realized when it took off and rained fire ontop of the decpticons.

Destroying them like nothing.

It landed back on the ground near optimus and bowed.

It then transformed and spoke.

Optimus welcomed the predicon named (Y/N).

They now have a new member of the autobots.

Megatron

Megatron watches how the predicon comes out of the ground and attack the autobots.

It attacked the autobots and him.

When the autobots fled with the key and the decpticons fought back.

They where able to get the predicon down and attacked it.

When megatron arcane close to it, he decided to try his chance to talk to it.

He said his name and told them that they are not the enemy but the autobots where.

This seemed to catch the predicon attention and it squinted it's eyes. Telling it to continue.

Megatron explained that the autobots are the reason cybertron was destroyed, and the fact they are the heros.

It seems to work because the predicon transformed into its cybertronian form and asked megatron to continue.

Megatron did.

At the end, he got the predicon to join the decpticons.

They welcomed the predicon named (Y/N).

soon the decpticons had the upper hand.

Intel optimus proved that the decpticons lied to (Y/N)

Ya, (Y/N) spared no one.

Sam

Sam ran to the autobots while the pyramids got destoryed.

Before he could reach the autobots, he was grabbed by the predicon and taken up in the sky.

It threw him on a nearby tree landed on the ground.

It charged up its attack before Sam begged it to stop and that he is doing this for optimus prime.

This cought the predicons attention and stopped. Sam continued.

He explained the cybertronian war, how the decpticons are bed autobots good type stuff.

At the end, the predicon transformed to its cybertronian form and got Sam out of the tree.

The predicon named (Y/N) said sorry for what they did.

They where welcomed to the autobots.

Though, it dident stop from Sam having a heart attack every 5 seconds became of (Y/N) roaring behind him to scare the living shit out of him.

He also found out they love to hide things.

Time to mess with Ratchet.

>:)

#headcanon #transformers optimus #optimus bayverse #megatron bayverse #transformers bayverse #x reader #optimus x reader #megatron x reader

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tropes-and-tales · 2 months ago

Text

Firewatch

(Alex Keller x F!Reader)

CW: Slight angst; healing from trauma; mild danger

Word Count: 6210

AN: This was inspired by the video game "Firewatch."

Alex Keller takes the job as a lookout at a fire tower because he needs time away.

He needs time to heal.

He carries too many ghosts with him. Ghosts from his time in special ops, then in the CIA. Ghosts from his time with Farrah in Urzikstan. His third act with Farrah was supposed to help exorcise the ghosts from his time under the dubious command of the U.S. Yet here he is, in his pitiful fourth act, with just as many ghosts. And one less leg.

It’s a buddy of a buddy who manages to hook him up with the job. The national service eyes his prosthetic leg with skepticism, but if he can fight on it, he reasons, he can serve as a lookout. The national service isn’t exactly overrun by applicants—it is lonely, isolated work for half of the year, so they hire him.

The swath of wilderness has four fire towers, each miles apart and separately staffed. Each can see so far across the mountain range and can radio to the national service in the event of smoke. Each person has rudimentary EMT skills, survivalist skills, and can be pressed into service in case a hiker or camper needs aid. Each person gets a weekly supply drop. The towers have solar panels for some creature comforts. Each has three radios so that two can always be fully charged while the other is in use.

Alex is assigned to the fourth tower, the one with the flattest terrain in a nod to his prosthetic leg. It’s called the Delta tower, and he snorts at the symmetry in his life. From Delta Force to Delta tower.

He takes the job because he needs time to heal. He needs quiet and solitude.

Ironic, then, that his first night, his radio crackles to life with a hail from the Charlie tower, and when he answers, he hears your bright voice introducing yourself, welcoming him to the summer.

“I was in Delta for the last three years,” you explain. “I only moved to Charlie this year.”

Alex feels a sting of guilt. He likely pushed you out because of his leg. “I’m sorry,” he replies. “I think they moved you because I’m missing the lower half of my left leg.”

“Oh, no worries. Charlie tower is nice, and it’s new terrain for me to explore. I just wanted to welcome you.”

“Thank you.”

You sign off, and Alex sighs, makes his way back to his cot. Your cot, until now. He stares up at the ceiling and waits for sleep to come. It takes a long time: after an entire lifetime of the noise of war and tragedy, the near-silence of his tower is as loud as a bomb.

-----

Alex can see how this would be a tough gig for most people. The average well-adjusted person would struggle with the solitude. His days are long, and with no smoke on any horizon, he is in charge of filling his hours.

He acclimates to the terrain. He hikes his territory in wider arcs. Part of his job’s secondary tasks include checking the blazes on the trails, clearing any debris, and making sure the emergency supply caches are stocked. He takes to it like a fish to water: all those years of precise military training, put to use making sure everything is neat and orderly.

His evenings are spent sitting on his tower, the wide windows open to allow the breeze in. This high up, every direction is picture perfect. If he turns to the left, he can see the sun setting in all its technicolor glory, and he swears there are colors that have no name—the thin bands of melding between purple and orange, orange and fiery red. If he turns to the right, it’s already dark, and the sky is a velvety blackness.

His first few weeks, the only person he speaks to is you: a daily and nightly hailing that goes from tower to tower to base camp, so that everyone is accounted for.

“Charlie to Delta,” you call each night. “Here to tuck you into bed.”

Alex smiles at it each time. “Delta accounted for.”

“Excellent. Sweet dreams, Delta.”

-----

It’s the teenagers that put you and Alex on chattier terms: a foursome of nineteen year-old girls, a troublesome age where they are technically adults but unable to legally drink. They are camping in the area between Alex’s tower and yours, and they spend their first night setting off fireworks.

“You’re seeing this, right?” you crackle through his radio.

“Affirmative.”

“Bravo tower called them in to base. They have permits to camp, so we’ll have to keep an eye on them. Still….shitheads, setting off fireworks during fire season. Do you think you can make your way down to them tomorrow and give them a lecture?”

Alex grins, then presses the button on his radio. “You don’t want to do the honors? I feel like you have a ready-made lecture.”

“Well, for one, I’d hate for you to not have any fun during your first summer.”

“And two?”

“Two is, I have to hike through and resupply my caches. One needs repaired.”

Alex considers it. He’s used to… less than kind ways of convincing people to bend to his will. But idiot teenagers?

“Any suggestions?” he asks.

He hears your laugh over the radio and it makes him smile. “Whatever you do, don’t try to meet ‘em on their level. Teenagers are assholes. Give them the straight facts about forest fires, and be prepared for them to call you a vulgar iteration of ‘Smokey the Bear.’”

“You speaking from experience?”

“I repress it each year, Delta.”

-----

You hail him a little earlier that night.

“Charlie to Delta. How’d it go?”

Alex makes sure to press the button so you can hear the massive sigh he heaves. He only got back to his tower half an hour earlier, just before the sun fully sank in the western sky. He was so tired he didn’t bother to cook a proper meal — he smeared a bunch of peanut butter on bread, made a couple of sandwiches that he bolted down in a handful of wolfish bites. Now he’s in the process of removing his prosthetic leg when he hears you calling on the radio.

“I’m back. I survived.” He sets his prosthetic on the bed beside him and groans as he kneads at his thigh. His muscles are tight and knotted, and he’s sore, but it’s a good sore from putting in a lot of hiking.

“You put the fear of god in them?”

“I tried.” He leans back against his pillow and feels the muscles in his back relax one by one. “They didn’t seem to care about the forest or the loss of human life if they start a fire. I had to frame it as all the cute lil bunnies that would die.”

“So long as they stop setting off fireworks.” You pause, then ask, more playfully, “they verbally abuse you?”

He laughs, but it trails off into a wide yawn. “Yeah, but standard stuff. ‘Peg Leg.’”

“Boo.”

“Right? I thought kids were more clever nowadays.”

“Two summers ago, I had to break up a campsite of teenaged boys,” you tell him. “Same deal, fire conditions were high. One called me ‘Smokey the Bear,’ but another looked me over and said, ‘I wouldn’t mind climbing up on Ol’ Smokey.’”

Alex laughs again. Yawns again. “Youths,” he chuckles over the radio.

“Youth is wasted on them.” A beat of static as you hold the line. “Well, I appreciate you handling it. You’re a seasoned pro now.”

He tries not to note the warm flush of feeling at this tamest, faintest overture of belonging. He tries not to let his mind immediately go to where it goes: that with everywhere else he’s belonged, he had to kill for the right. He had to do nefarious things. Evil things. Here, on the fire tower? All he had to do was hike down to the lake and give a stern talk to a foursome of giggling, slightly drunk young women.

“Anytime.” His voice has an edge of roughness to it, but you must just chalk it up to tiredness.

“Alright, I’ve kept you on too long. Go to bed and sleep well, Delta.”

“You too, Charlie.”

-----

From there, you talk more. Not just in the mornings or evenings for check-in, but at random intervals throughout the day. You both drop a lot of the formalities on the radio too.

You break in one afternoon, your voice startling him as he works his way along a bit of trail that needs cleared.

“What do you look like, Delta?”

As always, your non-sequiturs make him smile. “I’m hideous.”

“Liar!”

“I wasn’t born so much as created in a lab,” he teases. “And it didn’t go well. Just really disgusting looking.”

“So you’re one of a kind, then?”

He draws his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat beading there. He’s been hacking away at encroaching undergrowth with a machete, and you calling is a welcome break.

“Is this a prelude to something saucy?” he asks. “Like, are you gonna ask what I’m wearing next?”

“Oh, Delta. I imagine you’re wearing a white t-shirt, cargo shorts, and a red baseball cap.”

Maybe it’s a good sign that he startles now. That he had no idea someone was watching him. He’s been swinging his machete and feeling good to use his body for good work, and he never even noticed that he was being observed.

Still, he freezes like his training taught him. He scans the landscape, quick but thorough—

Your laughter bursts out of his radio. “I’m on my high-powered binoculars. I can see you, but you can’t see me.”

“Then why are you asking what I look like.” He does a slow turn with his arms out. “Here I am.”

“I can’t make out your face that well. But from the blur I can make out, you look disappointingly human. No lab experiment at all.”

-----

The next day brings much-needed rain, and Alex lounges in his tower. There’s a dog-eared copy of “War and Peace” (yours? He doesn’t know) that he is trying to work through just so he can be one of those impressive, kinda irritating people who can say they’ve read “War and Peace.” But the rain drums on the roof, and the words—all those confusing Russian names that he can’t keep straight—swim together in front of him.

He reaches for the radio. “Delta to Charlie. How’s the weather over there?”

It takes you a moment to answer, and your voice is husky when you do. “Sheets of rain here.”

“Did I wake you up? Sorry.”

“Just dozing. Can’t pass up on a good doze when the weather obliges.” A beat. “What’s up, Delta?”

“Trying to read ‘War and Peace’ and getting nowhere.”

“Oh, fatal mistake. Summer in the tower calls for Jack London, Larry McMurty, Louis L’Amour. The Russians are strictly for winter.”

“Duly noted.” He pauses and turns his head to look out one of the wide windows. Water streaks down, and the horizon shows nothing but thick black clouds. “I was curious what you looked like.”

Your laughter carries over the radio and makes him smile. “Well….I wasn’t formed in a lab. In fact, I was, you know, in my mom with my twin. But I partially absorbed my twin, so I have three eyes, four ears—”

“That’s wild.” He laughs. “What else?”

“Only one mouth, normal sized, but like, twice as many teeth. I look like some fucked-up fish that you’d find in the Mariana Trench.”

“You speak really well for someone with a mouthful of teeth.”

“Thanks.”

“So you’re one of a kind too?”

He can’t account for why your voice turns sad and sighs as you reply, “just a lonely whale operating on a frequency no one else can hear.”

-----

And that—the rainy day where the two of you check in with each other, leisurely, comfortably—is what leads your chats into deeper waters.

“Why are you out here?” you ask him one day.

How to answer it? The easy but still-true answer is that he needed the job. Not because of money—he’s set up well enough for the rest of his life, so long as he doesn’t acquire any expensive habits between now and old age. It’s more an inability to not work. He’s had a job since he was twelve when he worked on a farm down the road from his house during the summer. From farmhand to bus boy to lifeguard to soldier to undercover agent to freedom fighter to… what? This, for now.

The tougher, more-true answer is that he needed to feel useful in a way that didn’t involve death. He needed a place to heal the sore spots in his soul, the places that burn because they’ve been grated raw by the world.

Instead of answering, he volleys a question back to you. “Why are you asking?”

“Everyone comes here for a reason. We have to, because no one without a reason would just take this job. Why else would we sign up for so much seclusion?”

“Maybe I just needed the stipend a lot.”

You laugh. “You’d make the same basic amount at McDonald’s, and you’d get to go home to a larger bed and hot shower each night.”

“But here, I don’t stink like fry oil.”

Another laugh, and it never fails to make Alex smile—the warm merriment traveling through the airwaves over the miles that separate you.

“So Alpha has been here the longest, and he’s here because he’s just your standard loner. Nice guy. He just kinda hates society and likes to spend his time in the mountains. A real Thoreau-type,” you say.

“You’re sure he’s not working on any manifestos in his spare time?”

“Nah. He actually spends a lot of his evenings whittling these really lovely little wooden animals, right? He gives everyone one at the end of each season. Last year he whittled foxes.”

Alex wonders if you have similar conversations with the other towers about him, and he finds the thought doesn’t bother him. You seem kind; most of your humor is gently teasing, if that. He imagines you hailing Bravo tower and saying something like, “Delta had his first teenager encounter. He’s one of us now.”

You continue over the radio. “Bravo is a woman too. She’s a writer, and she has this sturdy, bare bones laptop that she can charge with the solars. She basically bangs out two, three really rough drafts here, then goes home after fire season to polish ‘em up.”

“Yeah?” He glances at the dog-eared copy of “War and Peace” that he’s pretty much given up on. “Anything I might’ve heard of?”

“Probably not, unless you are into shifter smut.”

He knows he’s missed a lot, being out of step with the mainstream, but his mind boggles. “What’s that?”

“Like….” You trail off, and he hears you clicking your tongue as you think. “Shifter is shape-shifter. Werewolves, humans turning into other creatures. And smut is….you know.”

“Like two werewolves are in a romance?”

“Oh, Delta.” Your laughter is more of a giggle over the line, a he-he-he that might seem flirty except for the tendril of nervousness threaded through it. “It’s, uh, usually a human and a shifter.”

“Seriously? Doesn’t that make it bestiality?”

“Well, the shifter isn’t a beast. It’s a fully consensual being, just not a human.”

He’s completely confused. “And people read these books?”

“Bravo does really well. She goes to all sorts of romance conventions and has a robust fanbase.”

“For werewolf and human smut?” He can’t hide the way his voice pitches up in incredulity.

“Different strokes for different folks.”

“Well, shit. I guess,” he replies, still baffled, and it makes you laugh again.

A moment later, though, you sign off—it’s supply drop day, and you have the furthest to go for yours. Alex looks thoughtfully at the radio in his hand, realizes that you never circled back to your original question to him, and that you never said why you’re on a tower either.

-----

You don’t ask the question again over the next few weeks, so Alex asks it.

“Why are you out here?” he asks one evening. There are thunderheads in the west, but the weather service says they should spend themselves before they get close enough to do any damage from lightning strikes.

You’re a long time in answering him. You go so long that the line seems dead, and he adds, more playfully, “you some sort of smut writer too? Alien smut, maybe?”

It draws a laugh out of you, but it lacks the usual bright merriment. “I’m not that creative, unfortunately.”

“C’mon,” he wheedles. “You gotta give me something, boss.”

“Boss?”

Alex shuts his eyes, winces. It just slipped out, his weird little term of affection. His nickname for people he feels comfortable with. Women he feels comfortable with. He hasn’t said it since Farrah, since their time together in Urzikstan, him at her right hand, helping rebuild until—

“Did I lose you there, Delta?”

“Still here.”

“Why are you here, then? Turnabout is fair play, and you never told me.”

He doesn’t bother to point out that you never told him why you were on a tower. That you’re similarly withholding from him. He wonders if you’re hiding similar hurt, or if you need a similar sort of healing that can only come from being away from other people.

“I just needed time away,” he tells you.

The line is silent for a long stretch again, and then your voice comes across, smaller than he’s ever heard it before.

“Me too.”

-----

A grey day weeks later when low clouds obscure the sun and cast the landscape in a weird, muted light: you hail Alex late morning when he’s fiddling around with a loose wire on one of his solar panels.

“Quid pro quo, Delta. I’ll tell you my tale of woe if you tell me yours.”

He sets down the channel locks he’s been using and makes his way over to the steps. He settles down, then answers you.

“Who says I have a tale of woe?”

“Because you never answered me the way I never answered you. If you’re here because you love the wilderness, you would have just said so.”

“Fair.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you add, “and because everyone here has a tale of woe, including Alpha and Bravo. But it’s not my place to tell their stories.”

Alex turns his head and gazes off across the slope to the west, the gentle valley that leads down to the lake that separates his area from yours. He has no idea what you look like or what you’re even doing right now. Are you on a trail, resupplying a cache, and did the spirit move you to call him? Are you in your tower, peering in his direction with your binoculars?

He knows part of his reintroduction to the world will have to involve letting people in. Extending trust even if it isn’t earned yet. Why not start with a person he hasn’t seen? Why not start with telling his story into a radio, when he doesn’t have to look you in the eye and see your reactions?

“Well,” he starts. “There was a woman. But really, before that, I had this job, and I did a lot of bad things that seemed like the right thing at the time…”

-----

He talks so long his radio dies. He talks so long, the light grows dimmer—sunset is close—and he has to pause, clean up his abandoned project, and head up into the tower. You’ve been silent for most of his story, only offering little one-word encouragements to continue, or keep going, or little noises of sympathy. Or at least they sound sympathetic.

And it’s a revelation how it all just pours out of him, every wretched moment: the shit he saw and did on Delta Force, the worse shit he saw and did in the CIA. The moment he tried to turn it around, sacrifice himself for a noble cause, and how he woke up in a clinic in the most agonizing pain of his life. How he was airlifted to Turkey, how they amputated his leg there. Then the long road to recovery and back to Farrah, happy to serve at her right hand as she rebuilt her country to be a beacon to the region.

How he fell in love—how could he not? How that love was gently rebuffed, and how there was no great falling out or massive argument.

How ordinary it was, when he realized he couldn’t live with Farrah and not have his love reciprocated. How Farrah couldn’t love him the way he needed.

All the drama and chaos of his life, and going out like that: a love-sick boy on a plane back to the United States, sulking and hurt. And that sulking and hurt nothing but a veneer over the deeper pain.

Then his radio gives its warning beep, and he has to sign off before you can reply. As he heads in for the evening, he grows more and more horrified at what he’s done. Oversharing to the nth degree. His face flames hot; the tips of his ears burn so much he’s sure he looks like a beacon in the growing darkness.

-----

You call him back a few hours later.

“Are you free?” you ask. “I wanted to give you time to eat, relax, unwind…”

“Yeah. I’m free.” His voice comes out rough, craggy around the edges of his words. He shuts his eyes tight and lays back in his cot. He waits for you to give him hell or worse, give him a gentle brush-off. Something like maybe we should just stick to the nightly check-in.

“I appreciate you sharing all of that with me.” A beat. “I realize it must have been hard, trusting a stranger with your story.”

He snorts. “You hardly seem like a stranger anymore.”

“Someone you haven’t formally met yet, then.”

“It was easier, I think. Talking to someone I hadn’t met yet. I could have never said any of that to my sisters or cousins or friends back home.”

He hears the sympathetic cluck of your tongue. “I get it. Sometimes it’s harder to share the dark stuff with the people closest to us.”

He feels a curious sensation in his chest at this exchange; a weird snagging against the back of his breastbone, like something barbed loosening there. He hears no judgement in your voice. No horror at the things he’s done in the name of freedom and country. Maybe it will come later, but right now, he only hears sympathy and understanding.

“Quid pro quo,” he reminds you.

He hears the sigh, and he hears a rustling over the radio. Like you’re leaning back in your bed too, getting comfortable.

“Well, there was a man,” you start. “Isn’t there always? A man or a woman or some goddamned person that throws you off the trajectory of your life and leaves you spinning.”

You talk so long your radio dies.

-----

Alex wonders sometimes if you talk with the other towers like you talk with him. He wonders if you and Bravo, say, chat about your various traumas. Maybe Bravo was cheated on too, and the two of you spend radio-draining hours commiserating.

He doesn’t think so, though. The two of you fall into a rhythm: you spend your evenings and well into the night talking—deep shit, embarrassing shit, the shit neither of you would probably tell anyone else. The mornings and daylight hours bring a sheepishness to your back-and-forth, a sort of “can’t believe I admitted that last night, so now I have to soften it with goofy teasing and joking around.”

But then the sun sets, and you’re back to baring your souls to each other.

The fire season is halfway over when you tell him one night that you appreciate him more than he knows. That excising all of the bad feelings has led you to sleep better than you have in years.

“I don’t know how it happened, but you’ve become my closest confidant,” you admit.

He doesn’t tell you then, but he considers it after you both sign off for the night: how he’s sleeping better than he has in years too. And how he’s confided in you more than anyone else, even Farrah.

And then he considers how the thought of Farrah doesn’t raise the sharp ache of loss it used to.

He considers how this may be him healing.

-----

“What are your plans after the season ends?” he asks. He’s been mulling that question over for himself. He has no plans at all. He could always crash at his cousin’s place for a few months—he’s got a rambling old farmhouse in Michigan, and he’s invited Alex more than once to join him.

“I got a place in Colorado,” you reply. “I have a seasonal job at a winter resort.”

“What do you do there?”

It’s daytime, so the jokes are in full force. “I’m a caretaker. Also working on my novel. It’s just me and a bunch of ghosts and also the specter of my own alcoholism.”

Alex laughs. “There was alcoholism in ‘the Shining’?”

“In the book, yeah.” You pause, and Alex hears you give a little grunt of effort. He knows you’re on a trail, clearing out a downed tree. “Anyway, I do a little bit of everything at the resort. Mostly I give out skiing lessons and man the medic hut.”

“Sounds like a good gig.”

“It is.” Another beat, another huff as you move a heavy section of tree. Alex hears the thud as it lands on the soft ground. “What about you?”

“Not sure yet. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

You heave a sigh, and he imagines you sitting down or leaning against a tree to rest. “There’s a whole swath of society that does this sort of seasonal work as a living. I could give you some sites to look at. Ideas of what to do during the winter. If you plan on doing this again next year, I mean.”

He chuckles again. “I definitely haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“C’mon. You don’t want to do another summer on the tower?”

He isn’t against the idea, exactly. The summer has turned out to be exactly what he’s needed: time and space away from others, time to be alone with himself. And a friend on the radio, which he hadn’t counted on.

But this was only ever meant to be a stop-gap. He never intended to become a lifer on the fire tower, because he has always imagined a life more ordinary. A regular job and a home and partner to come home to every night.

He tells you as much now, and asks, “do you want to do this forever?”

“I never planned on it.” Your voice sounds thoughtful, maybe a little sad. “I guess it was supposed to be a stop-gap for me too, and now here I am…”

He knows now how you’ve been hurt. The story of a husband who used you, then cheated, then left you with less than nothing. How it launched you out of the trajectory of your own life, as you said, and how you find yourself drifting now.

“You could go anywhere,” he tells you. “Anywhere at all. And you could do anything.”

“You want me to put down some roots, Delta?” You sound playful now, and he smiles to hear it.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing, right?”

“It’d be tough to start over in a place where I didn’t know anyone,” you admit. “It’s tough to make friends as an adult. Starting over, all that shit.”

Alex shakes his head, rueful. “Don’t sell yourself short. You made a friend in me in a matter of months.”

You laugh over the radio, your usual merry sound that makes that barbed pain behind his chest wall unfurl a bit. “How about you get settled somewhere, and I’ll come glom off of you until I put down some roots of my own.”

“That’s a deal,” he replies, quick, and you laugh over the radio again, but Alex spends the rest of the golden afternoon imagining an entire future that looks a lot like the present: him in his own place somewhere undefined, and you nearby, just a phone call away to chat or listen or vent.

-----

The season is a month away from ending when the fire starts.

It’s two fires, actually: one sighted early by Alpha tower, and the second sighted by you in Charlie.

“The Service is keeping an eye on them,” you tell him one evening. Your voice has a taut quality that Alex realizes is fear. He’s never heard you afraid before.

“They are sending in a team to strip out a fire line,” you continue. “Hopefully it will keep them from merging.”

Alex eyes the smoke on the horizon. The wind has been carrying the acrid scent of burning to him all day. “Have you been in a fire situation before?” he asks.

“Once, but it was small. It was handled before it became a big thing.”

“You able to move out quick if you have to?” He thinks of his years of training and experience. He can light out in less than a minute if he has to.

Your scoff over the radio tells him all he needs to know, but you kindly answer with your words anyway. “Of course I can move quick, Delta.”

-----

The weather is against you: high winds and no rain. The wind takes the fires and pushes them to ungodly heights, and no rain ever comes. Alex can’t tell what is a genuine cloud and what is smoke now—everything is hazy, and his eyes feel like they are laden with grit.

The fires merge within a couple of days, and the situation changes from concerning to dangerous.

“I need you to look at the map on the wall,” you tell him without preamble. The taut quality of your voice is gone, and now it shakes with fear.

He takes the three steps over to the wall where it’s tacked up, the corners curling and yellowed with age. There are notations on it in neat printing, some of them humorous. He’s looked at it all summer and always assumed it was you who named some of the local features, like Twisted Knee Trail and Drunken Fratboy Pond.

“I’m looking at it,” he tells you.

“You see where you are in Delta tower.”

“Affirmative.”

“Look northwest. Do you see Wapiti Meadow? It’s on the other side of the canyon.”

He leans closer and studies it. Does the quick math.

“Looks like it’s about five or six clicks from me.”

“Correct. There’s a research station there so it’s the best place the helicopter can set down to get us. Alpha hiked out two days ago, and Bravo caught a ride with the fire fighters who were cutting the line. It’s just us now.”

Alex’s stomach sinks, and he turns to look out the window. The fire churns thick plumes of black smoke in the air. It’s like a beast, ravenous for more acreage. “We’re evacuating.” The thought occurs to him then, and he returns to the map. Wapiti Meadow will be a hike but he should be fine. You?

“The northern edge of the fire is between the rendezvous spot and you,” he says, and now his voice is laced with fear too.

“I’m leaving now,” you reply. “I have to flank it. Take only what you absolutely need. Wet a cloth and tie it over your mouth and nose. And take some water. Not enough to weigh you down but enough to hydrate you. Don’t underestimate the smoke in the air.”

He makes his way over to his cot and sits down, pulls out his pack and starts to check its contents. He’s always ready to go in a moment. He’ll be fine.

A not-tiny sting of guilt lances through him: this was your tower, and the service gave it to him because of his leg. Now you have to make your way through dangerous terrain around a wild fire because of him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you.

“None of that shit,” you snap over the radio. “Don’t you dare apologize. Get moving, and I’ll see you at Wapiti Meadow.

“Please be careful, Boss.”

“I’ll see you there, Alex.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name all summer, and it’s the jolt he needs to finish his preparations and launch him out the door of his tower.

He gives it a backwards glance, realizes it will be gone within a day or two. At the last minute, he turns back and pulls the map from the wall. He has his smaller one in his pocket that he can consult with his compass, but he has the idea to save the tower map with your notations. A memento from your home for so many summers, your refuge from the wider world while you healed.

He folds it and puts it in his pack, then leaves.

-----

He makes it to Wapiti Meadow okay. He underestimated the haze from the smoke, and how quickly it would make his vision blurry with tears. Near the end of his journey to the rendezvous, he has to stop every few hundreds of yards to wash out his eyes and blink his vision clear again.

By the time he gets there, the helicopter is already in the clearing. A grim-faced ranger offers his hand and helps haul Alex up into the helicopter, and he does a quick scan of the others there. The ranger, the helicopter pilot, and a man that he later learns is a research scientist at the Wapiti station.

No you.

For the majority of Alex’s professional life, he’s only been a member of teams where everyone was expendable. He himself had been left behind for dead more often than he wants to count. It’s that history that makes him stand up as much as he can in the tight quarters of the helicopter, makes him loom over the ranger, and growl, “we aren’t leaving her behind.”

The ranger, who perhaps has some understanding of the lookouts on the towers, only looks back at him and mildly replies, “we weren’t planning on it, buddy.”

Over the headset, the pilot adds, “she’s only a click or two away now. She’s been radioing in every thirty minutes.”

It would be more dramatic to say that there is a frenzy at the end, that the helicopter’s blades start to turn, that it starts to rise from the flattened grass of the meadow just as you break through the treeline and make a run for them. It’d be more dramatic to say that Alex reaches out a hand as you reach out a hand, and that your fingertips brush, and that you either lose your grip on him and fall, then die in the fire, or that he hauls you into the helicopter just as it’s lifting off.

In the end, neither happens. Alex is all turned around from the smoke and the adrenaline, so he’s looking in the wrong direction when you break through the treeline. The pilot says, “there she is,” and Alex has to look to see where everyone is looking before he finally sees you for the first time.

The pilot hits the controls and starts the rotors, but the helicopter is firmly on the ground when the ranger—not Alex—extends his hand and hauls you in. The lower half of your face is covered with a damp cloth, but the top part of your face is black with smoke. Tear tracks cut clean lines from the corners of your eyes, and you’re coughing and sputtering as the ranger hands you a bottle of water. Alex watches as you pour half of it over your face, then drink the other half, and it isn’t until the helicopter is a few feet in the air that your eyes find his and light up.

That barbed, snagged feeling in his chest unfurls completely when he finally lays eyes on you. Even sweaty and smoke-stained, tears leaking from red-rimmed eyes, a skinned knee oozing blood… you’re absolutely gorgeous to him. The voice on his radio, helping him heal. The voice hailing him each night, tucking him into bed, wishing him sweet dreams.

“Delta,” you say, and your voice sounds brighter in person than it did over the radio, even roughened up by the smoke. “Alex. Good to finally meet you.”

You hold out your hand and he takes it eagerly, and he cannot stop the smile that breaks across his face as the helicopter takes to the air.

“Good to finally meet you, Boss.”

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