#Intense Rainstorm

[haiyen2019]

Intense Rainstorm and Strong Thunder at the Ocean sounds for Relaxing Sleep, Meditation or Study

[cheswirls]

rain so intense i can hear hail hitting the doorknob

[familyvideostevie]

toccami

theodore nott x fem!reader | 2.9k

you're high and horny. what else is there to do but fool around with your very handsome boyfriend?

cw: smoking weed, consensual high sex, thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, blowjob, creampie, dirty talk, gratuitous use of teddy as a nickname, really just like, filth and more filth and even more filth from two people super in love.

a/n: yeah, i'm as surprised as you are to find myself here. it's fine. this is a Christmas present for @strangerfreaks. love to be depraved with you, hope this is adequate <3

--

"Are you high yet?"

Theo bounces his leg to rouse you. It jostles you from the pleasant daydream you were having behind closed lids, your head pillowed on his cotton-clad thigh.

"Theo," you groan. "That was rude."

You look up at him and he's already watching you, his face stupidly handsome even from this angle. Long lashes, dark curls spilling over his forehead, eyes flashing with mischief. Your gaze lingers on his lips and he notices.

"See something you'd like, darling?" he coos. You roll your eyes at him, cheeks hot. He laughs, a low rumble deep in his chest and steals your hand from where it rests on your stomach to kiss your palm. "If you want a kiss you need only ask."

His flat is less decorated and more lived-in. Piles of books and parchment, Muggle DVD cases for the player you got him. Jackets he's forgotten to hang up and ticket stubs from places in London you've been together. There are traces of you everywhere. A scarf you forgot, a pair of shoes you left after they got soaked in a rainstorm even though he spelled them dry. Your books, of course, and your work folders. A blanket you brought from your flat when you floo'd over to wait for him when you were sick.

Tonight, he rolled a joint with nimble fingers. You licked it at his request and he sealed it, lit it, and here you are.

He strokes one long finger down your nose and you realize you've closed your eyes again.

"I think you're stoned, love," he says.

"Am I?" you ask. "Maybe. Keep doing that, it feels nice."

He presses his thumb lightly to your lips instead, his other hand still holding yours, your palm near his mouth.

"I can think of some other things that might feel nice." The suggestion in his voice is clear even to your fogged mind. You've done that before -- fooled around high. Everything is more sensitive, more intense. You love it.

"I'm sure you can," you tease, smiling. Your eyes flutter open and his expression has turned lovesick.

"Merlin," he sighs. "You're bloody gorgeous."

"Teddy," you say, happily. You sit up and scoot closer to him, draping your legs over one of his spread thighs.

"I'm high," he says, cupping your face.

You frown. "You know you're high because you think I'm pretty?"

He kisses the corner of your mouth a bit sloppily. "No, gorgeous girl," he whispers. "Because I can't keep my mouth shut about it."

"Kiss me then, please."

He does. It's just how you like it, even though the haze of the high. He pulls your lower lip between his and nips you just a little -- enough that you yelp and open your mouth for him. HIs tongue slides in and tangles with yours, licking into your mouth with the desperation he so rarely shows.

Theo is the calm one. The laid back one, the one who is quick to joke, quick to counter. He's always watching, always listening, but doing both so well you don't realize.

You didn't realize he'd had his eye on you. His cool exterior had fooled you into thinking he was indifferent, that you were just another girl he worked with. But when you'd been put on assignment together -- he was funny. He made you laugh, complimented you skills, told you a bit about himself. It was different enough from the version you saw day-to-day that you realized that this was who he really is.

And now you love him.

Especially when he does that thing with his tongue.

You moan into his mouth and he smiles against your lips. Your hands are in his hair and you are pressing your thighs together hard. He notices.

"Darling," he says, lips trailing down your neck. His voice is raspy, you notice with satisfaction. You affect him, too. "I think a different position might be prudent."

Theo grips your hips like he means to help you into his lap but you surprise him and straddle one of his thighs, instead. The couch is deep and he sinks back into it with a slightly awed expression as you dig your knees into the cushion.

"How's this?" you ask with a smirk.

"Fuck," he breathes.

You grind down onto his thigh. He's warm through the fabric of his sleep pants and yours, but the friction makes you moan. Head thrown back, you grind even harder, bracing yourself on his shoulder. His fingertips dig into your hip and you hear his ragged inhale.

"Theo," you moan. You're probably making a mess of both of your clothes but you don't care. It feels so good and you're so wet. "Fuck, that's good."

"I wish you could see how you look right now," he murmurs. "What if I --"

He bounces his leg just a little, the same way he did when he woke you from your dream, and you have to bite your lip.

"No, no," he coaches. "Let me hear you."

He does it again and this time you don't swallow it.

"That's so good," you manage. "God, Theo, I'm --"

"You going to come from riding my thigh? With your clothes on? Fuck, darling," he laughs. "You really are high."

"And horny," you say, grinding down again. "I could -- ah -- take my trousers off -- fuck -- if you want --"

He pulls you closer so he can attach his lips to you neck.

"Oh, they'll come off," he assures you. "Keep going, love. You can do it, I know you can --"

The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. God, are you really going to come from this? You're panting, eyes screwed shut as you move your hips, your cunt pressed tight to the muscle of his leg as he bounces in time with you.

"Theo, Theo, Theo, Theo --"

One of his movements causes the fabric of your panties to catch your clit and you're seeing stars, back arching and mouth open in a silent scream as you come.

"That's it, ride it out, baby, you look so fucking gorgeous --"

You flop forward onto Theo, mouth pressed to his temple as his arms wrap around you. Your chests are heaving in tandem.

Then he laughs.

"Holy shit," he says. "You just rode my thigh and came."

The giggles are infectious, everything heightened by the weed.

You shift your hips and groan at the stimulation. "And I still need more of you, Teddy," you whine.

His fingers press so hard into your hips they might bruise. "Fuck," he groans. "I'm so hard, you have no idea."

You rise from his thigh and gingerly step off the couch, knees a little wobbly. "I can change that."

Theo catches on quick, bright even when stoned, and quickly tosses a pillow from the couch onto the floor as you get to your knees. His legs are already spread but he lifts his hips for you to tug off his soft pants and briefs in one go. There's a spot on the fabric of one thigh, to your satisfaction.

His cock springs free and you giggle.

"Don't laugh at a man's dick, darling," he says. You look up at him and his pupils are totally blown. He reaches for your face, cupping your cheek and thumbing at the corner of your mouth. "God, you look so pretty like this."

"So many compliments, Nott," you coo, punctuating his name by wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.

He moans, head thunking back on the couch. You stroke his bare thighs with your other hand. Truly one of your favorite parts of him -- the chorded muscle from his days as an athlete and the rigor of his job, his vanity and his pride playing no small part. He's got his shirt on, still, but you can see the way his dark hair trails up to his navel. Around his cock, it's wilder. He's big, too, which you know well by now. It took a while to get used to.

"What can I say? I have a way with wor-- fuck."

You cut him off when you scoot forward and tongue the tip of him, dipping in and out of the slit before tracing the edges of the mushroom-shaped head. "You always taste so good, Teddy," you sigh.

"Merlin," he groans. "You're going to end this before it starts if you talk like that."

"You know I have a way with words, darling," you mock.

He winds his fingers into your hair, expression somewhere between amazed and lovesick. That's one thing about Theo that you adore -- no matter how cool he seems, how aloof he appears to strangers, he's never shy about how much he loves you. He'll scream it from the rooftops without hesitation. Always quick to defend you, even quicker to remind anyone with wandering eyes or careless words that he's yours and, by the grace of who-the-fuck-knows, you're his.

"Only a little, alright?" he purrs. "I want to finish inside you."

"My mouth is a part of me," you remind him. His fingers tighten when you drag your tongue up his shaft, the tug on your hair getting close to a sting. It makes you press your legs together even harder.

"Sweetheart," he moans. "Don't tease."

It's rich, coming from him. Just last week he wanted to see how long you could go without finishing. He brought you to the edge of your peak over and over again until you were a sweaty, screaming mess. But he's right -- you want him inside you more than anything. You want to hold him close, feel him in every part possible, to look into his eyes as he fills you.

The weed slows things down, makes you pay attention to the rise and fall of his chest, the flush that travels down his neck and fades at his collarbones. His nostrils flare and the muscles in his legs tense with every flash of your tongue.

"Alright, Teddy," you coo. "You want to say please?"

He tugs on your hair sharply for the sass but strokes his thumb down your cheek in apology after. "Please," he drawls. "Be gentle with me, my love."

It's sincere and sarcastic at once, hovering on the edge of petulant. Everything is so much more fun like this. You feel every point of contact between you like a brand. His cock is heavy on your tongue and you take your time, never taking more than a few inches at once. Other nights you'd stretch yourself, open your throat and let him go as far as you could manage, spit dripping down your chin and throat contracting around the head of him. But tonight is all about going slow and feeling it.

Theo loves your mouth. He loves every part of you, obviously, but you know he gets off on the naked display of trust, of control. Being at your mercy even if you're the one on your knees. You have all the power. It's evident when you fondle his balls, pulling on the skin with your lips. You trace the vein that runs up the underside of his shaft with your tongue, hollowing your cheeks and humming.

"Fuck," he groans. He tugs at your hair again but this time to pull you off him with a pop. You stroke him slowly with one hand, your leftover spit making the drag of his skin easier in your palm.

"Had enough?" you ask, panting.

You've wrecked him. His chest is heaving, shirt tossed aside while you were sucking his cock. The visible muscles make you clench your core, the dark dusting of hair below his navel and the heft of his pecs and obliques. He's a beautiful man, and a part of your blissed-out brain fixates on it.

He's yours.

"Never enough of you," he rasps. "Come here, please."

Please. You've really done a number on him.

"Reverse?" you ask, standing, fingers digging into his knees as you use them to rise to your feet. You tug off your top and abandon your bottoms and panties in one go, not at all sexy. You just want to be close to him.

"No," he says, quickly. "No, hold on--"

His hands drag up your bare thighs and over your hips, digging into your soft flesh. He scoots back on the couch and spreads his legs further, spine more upright.

"I want to taste you," Theo confesses. He palms your breasts, tweaking your nipples and you throw your head back, a grin permanently on your face. You feel so loved under his hands, so wanted. It's intoxicating. You've never felt as beautiful as you do under his touches. You grip his shoulders, imagining his mouth between your thighs, and moan.

"But--"

"Not tonight," he finished. "I want to fuck you even more. Do you think you can --"

You catch on before he can finish, straddling him properly this time. His cock slides between your folds immediately, catching your clit and you hiss. You're so turned on you might explode.

"I've got you," Theo mutters. "Do you need me to stretch--"

"No," yougasp. "No, Teddy, please, just --"

Your plea is all it takes. His hand on your hip grips even harder and he lines himself up with your entrance. "Sink down, love," he asks. "That's it. Fuck, you're tight."

You groan in unison, foreheads pressed together. Your knees sink into the couch and he holds you steady until you've taken as much as you can in this position, inch by inch.

"So big, Teddy," you babble. "God, I don't know how it all fits, I'm so full --"

It's probably half the weed talking but it's honest. You've never felt anything like Theo and he knows it.

"So good, darling," he moans. "Fuck, it's always so good with you, I feel like I could come right here--"

You rock your hips and you both hiss. You're so keyed up that it could either go for hours or it'll be over in minutes. You don't mind either way, so long as he's inside you.

"Can I move?" he begs. "Please, please say I can, it'll feel so good--"

You nod, lips brushing, inhaling each other's exhales. You rise up just a little and Theo meets your descent with a thrust of his hips that has you both gasping.

"I won't last long," you tell him, teeth nipping at his earlobe. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair. His lips trail down your neck, your collarbones.

"Me neither," he grinds out. "Fuck, you have a perfect cunt--"

Maybe it's the angle, maybe it's the force behind his thrust, but the head of his cock drags across a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"Theo," you groan. "Again, please. Right there, I --"

He obeys, picking up the pace. "Are you going to come on my cock, baby?" he babbles. "Come on, I want to feel it. I was made to fuck you, to make you feel good, show me, show me--"

His hips pick up pace and you hold on for deer life. It feels like coming home, like you were meant to be joined liked this and any alternative is unacceptable, a violation against nature herself.

Theo drills into that spot and you gasp, tears building behind your eyes alongside the coil in your belly. The sounds of your smacking flesh fills the room alongside your pants and you chant his name like a prayer, a benediction, a blessing.

"Theo, Theo, Theo --"

He presses his lips to yours in less of a kiss and more of a lifeline, breaths mingling, eyes open and staring into each other's blown pupils.

And then you fall apart. Right over the cliff, so intense that your eyes screw shut and your entire body pulses in time with your cunt, Theo's name the only thing your brain can manage. He follows you, hips stuttering before his teeth dig into your lower lip and he empties himself inside you, warm and full.

Your tacky foreheads stick together but neither one of you makes to move. You could probably sit here forever, his arms around you and his solid length still inside you.

"Fuck," he manages. He wipes sweat from your hairline with his finger. "Are you okay?"

You drag your lips across his cheek to settle at the corner of his mouth.

"More than okay," you manage. "I've just been fucked within an inch of my life and I'm still high."

Theo laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and pretty soon you are a pair of naked, high adults so in love that you can't stop laughing.

"I love you," Theo says, suddenly. "This is perfect."

He's said it before. Many times, by now. But it's such an honest way to sum up your lives together that you can't help but grin like it's the first time.

"I love you, Teddy," you say. You shift your hips and feel his cock spring to life inside you. "So much."

"Enough for more?" he replies, voice hoarser than before. "I think weed decreases my refractory period."

You kiss him. Full on the mouth, sloppy, unexpected. He smiles into it, your tongue parting his lips answer enough.

"Bed, please," you manage to say.

Theo fumbles for his wand and there's a crack, a swooping in your stomach, and then you're falling back onto his pillows.

Lips on your earlobe, his cock still inside you, he whispers, "Your wish is my command."

[incognit0slut]

hii, i love you’re writing and i have a song request idea. the song too sweet by hozier would be so cute it could be angst to smut and it could happen late morning or late at night since the lyrics. idk if it makes sense i just thought it’d be cute 😭. again i love your work sm okay, ty, bye 🫶🏾💖🫶🏾💖🫶🏾

Spencer thinks you’re too sweet for a damaged man like him.

Warnings: (18+) Professor Reid x Student Fem Reader. Age gap (he’s in his 40s or post-prison era, Reader is in her 20s). Angst and smut. 2.8k words A/n: anon I took your request but I changed it a little to how I interpret this song… which means a lot of ANGST💔 I hope you don’t mind

He knew you were here. He always knew. The usual chaotic sprawl of books scattered throughout his apartment seemed to be in order, and there was a comforting scent lingering in the air that unmistakably belonged to you.

Although Spencer could never really put his finger on your scent. Sometimes you exuded a sweet fragrance, like the delicate petals of a flower, while at other times, a crisp, fresh aroma lingered around you, reminiscent of a morning breeze, or perhaps the soft scent of rain. 

But it didn't matter whether you smelled like a garden in full bloom or the crisp air after a rainstorm, the mere proximity to you brought him the peace he was all too familiar with, and that calmness enveloped him as he made his way toward his bedroom.

You looked like an angel. Sweet, calm, serene. His eyes drifted towards your sleeping form, and he couldn't help but wonder how you could sleep so well after the conversation you both shared this morning. The weight of your mutual decision to end things for good hung heavy in the air, yet here you lay, seemingly unaffected.

He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, each rhythmic pattern of your breathing seemed to draw him closer. One step, then another, until he found himself standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you, vulnerable in your sleep. And then, as if pulled by an unseen force, he sank into the space beside you.

The bed dipped beneath his weight, and so did his heart. Spencer knew this wasn't the wisest thing to do. He was supposed to be the responsible one, after all, he was older than you. With age came experience, or so he believed, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he should be the voice of reason.

But as he lay beside you, he couldn't help but question his judgment. Was it truly wisdom that guided him, or was it simply the fear of facing the unknown? Age and maturity seemed like a flimsy construct now, overshadowed by the raw intensity of his emotions. With a heavy sigh, he placed a hand on your waist.

One touch, he told himself, one touch was all he would allow himself.

You felt the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, grounding you in the present moment. Spencer watched intently, well aware he should have pulled back, yet, despite his better judgment, he found himself unable to let go, his grip on you tightening almost instinctively.

His gaze traced your face in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. Despite the early hour, your features seemed to radiate with a warmth that defied the darkness of the dawn. The lines of worry on your brow softened, your lips curved into a gentle smile, and for a fleeting moment, you appeared to embody the very essence of sunshine itself.

It was a peculiar sight, Spencer thought, considering how the world beyond the window remained shrouded in darkness.

"You're home," you muttered as if the word home was a concept you both shared. Perhaps it had once been true, or perhaps it was a dream that had never quite materialized. He felt a pang in his chest, a bittersweet reminder of what once was, or what could have been.

"You're not supposed to be here," he mumbled softly.

"I was going to give you back your keys, but you weren't here," you confessed. "And I wanted to wait for you."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "So you decided to wait on my bed?"

"It seemed like the most comfortable spot."

"You've always liked my bed."

You shook your head. "It's not the bed, per se. It's the feeling of being close to you..." Your gaze softened as you met his eyes. "Even when you're not here."

Time seemed to stand still as he met your gaze, a rush of emotions swirling beneath the surface. "I'm not here most of the time," he said after a pause.

"I know."

"That's not fair to you."

A heavy silence fell into place.

"I know," you replied quietly.

"And the next time we do see each other," he continued, his tone tinged with resignation, "Is when I'm standing in front of class with you sitting between the seats."

"Spencer, I know," you pressed, your voice barely concealing the ache in your heart. "We went through this conversation this morning."

"Then why are you still here?"

You held his gaze, your eyes reflecting countless emotions—sadness, longing, and perhaps a hint of defiance. "Because," you began softly, "I still can't bring myself to leave."

His heart clenched at your words, the weight of them settling heavily upon him. He had expected defiance, anger, perhaps even resentment, but your quiet admission caught him off guard.

"Why?" he asked.

You looked away. "You know why."

He knew the reasons, of course, he knew them all too well. But hearing them spoken aloud, seeing the pain reflected in your eyes, brought the harsh reality of the situation. He reached out, gently grasping your chin and guiding your gaze back to meet his.

"This is for the best," he replied quietly, though his voice wavered with uncertainty. He knew the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears, but he couldn't bring himself to admit the truth—that perhaps, deep down, he was trying to protect himself as much as he was trying to protect you.

"For me or for you?"

He hesitated, the lump in his throat growing heavier with each passing moment.

"For both of us," he admitted softly.

It was the truth, undeniable and painful. He couldn't deny the impact of your relationship if it continued down its current path. Not only was he much older than you, but he was also supposed to be your mentor, your teacher, your professor.

His role was meant to guide you. He was supposed to impart knowledge, not to engage in illicit affairs behind closed doors. He had allowed himself to become too invested in you, to give you more attention than was appropriate, more than was fair to his other students.

But it wasn't just about him anymore—it was about you. He couldn't bear the thought of tainting your pure, sweet soul with the darkness that came with him. He had done things he wasn't proud of, and made choices that he wished he could undo, and now, as he looked at you, he couldn't help but feel a sense of shame.

You deserved better than to be with someone who carried the weight of his past like a heavy burden.

"So this it?" You asked.

All he could do was nod. A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. "Fine. Just..." You paused, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. "I'll leave as soon as you tell me the truth."

He felt a knot tighten in his chest as he waited for you to continue.

"Tell me you don't love me and I'll leave."

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, the pain evident in his eyes as he struggled to find the right response. He knew that he had to be honest with you, no matter how difficult it might be.

But as he opened his mouth to speak, the words caught in his throat. How could he deny the truth when every fiber of his being longed for you? How could he let you go when you were the one thing he couldn't bear to lose?

"I..." he began, his voice faltering as he searched for the courage to speak the words you so desperately needed to hear. But no matter how hard he tried, the words refused to come.

"Say it," you urged. "Say you don't love me and I'll leave you for good."

Taking a deep breath, he met your gaze and braced himself for the pain his words would inflict on you.

"I don't love you," he whispered, the words feeling like a betrayal even as they left his lips. It was a lie, and he knew it. And yet, he couldn't find the courage to admit his feelings for you.

The air around you seemed to thicken with tension. He had braced himself for the pain his lie would bring, but nothing could prepare him for the look of hurt and disbelief that crossed your face at his words. You were the one who asked for this, yet hearing him admit to it so easily shattered your heart into pieces.

"You're... you're lying."

Spencer felt a pang of guilt shoot through him at the sight of your pain. He knew that he would regret what he was about to do, but he couldn't stand the thought of you walking away without knowing the truth, without knowing how much he truly cared for you.

So he closed the distance between you, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck. And then, without hesitation, he leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. For a moment, you were lost in the sensation, the warmth of his touch, the tenderness of his kiss.

But as quickly as it had begun, it came to an end, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You pulled back and searched his eyes for answers. "You're lying," you repeated.

He sighed heavily, his forehead resting against yours. "I-I don't love you."

Your chest tightened again. How could he say that when his touch was so tender, when his gaze held so much depth? Frustration and hurt boiled over as your nails dug into his skin, gripping his wrist firmly as you held his face close to yours.

"Stop lying to me," you pleaded almost desperately. "Stop fucking lying to yourself."

He closed his eyes. He knew that he couldn't keep lying to you, and yet, the words refused to leave his lips, trapped by the fear of what might happen if he dared to speak them aloud.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart as he pulled you closer, not knowing what else to do to ease the pain away.

So he kissed you again.

He kissed you as if he was apologizing, each gentle press of his lips against yours a silent plea for forgiveness. He kissed you as if he needed to convey his feelings that he couldn't express with words, his touch speaking volumes where his voice fell short.

He kissed you as if you were everything to him, as if the taste of you was sweeter than any other, as if he couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it. He kissed you desperately and unapologetically, it was sweet yet painful, tender yet desperate, as if every moment shared between you was both a blessing and a curse.

You could taste the bitterness of goodbye on his lips, yet you couldn't bring yourself to let go, not when his touch still felt like home. So you pushed your tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him even as you knew it would only make saying goodbye that much harder.

Your breathing became heavy as you felt his hand glide down from your cheek to your neck. He then pulled away, his lips still tingling from the taste of you as he licked them unconsciously. His gaze followed the movement of his hand as it settled on your breast.

You could feel the tension between you crackling in the air, the desire that pulsed between you almost tangible, as he brushed your nipple over your shirt. A gasp escaped your lips as he continued to tease you, each touch sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

You knew that this wasn't the wisest thing to do. You were both playing with fire and giving in to the temptation could only lead to more heartache. But you couldn't help yourself, not when your body was coming alive with the familiarity of his touch, not when you knew that this might be the last time you could feel him as close.

So when his hand slipped further down, tracing a path over your stomach, past your legs, you let him. The anticipation built within you as his touch hiked up your skirt, your breath catching in your throat. And when the rough pad of his fingers ghosted over the material of your panties, you found yourself instinctively spreading your legs apart, inviting him closer.

As the first electric surge rushes through you, the smallest of breaths escapes your lips, signaling the release of the tension you had been holding in your lungs. Your hands found purchase against his shoulders, nails digging into his t-shirt tightly as you felt him pressing onto your folds.

You both stared at each other, a silent exchange of emotions passing between you. There were so many emotions in his—sadness, frustration, and a burning desire that mirrored your own. And yet, despite the turmoil that raged within him, you found yourself unable to look away, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze.

As his hand worked its magic between your thighs, you felt yourself growing wetter by the minute, desire pooling low in your belly. And then, with a sense of purpose, he pulled his hand away, his fingers deftly finding the band of your panties as he coaxed the thin material down your legs. 

How did he manage to bring himself into this situation again? It was a familiar pattern, one that he had promised himself he would break, and yet, here he was, like a moth to a flame, irresistibly drawn to you.

Or perhaps it was more like you were a precious flower, delicate and beautiful, and he was drawn to you like a bee to nectar, unable to resist the sweet temptation that you offered.

Whatever the reason, he knew that he couldn't stay away from you. With trembling hands, he buried his fingers between your thighs once more, finally touching your bare, slick skin. The slickness of your arousal coated his fingers as he explored every inch of your delicate folds, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

And then, unable to resist any longer, he pressed a single finger inside your entrance, the sensation causing you to gasp in pleasure. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of your tightness enveloping him, before picking up the pace, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment.

"Please," you muttered, gulping and concentrating on the feeling of him slowly pumping his single digit in and out of your tightening, dripping walls. 

But what were you begging for? For him not to stop? Or for him not to let you go? Maybe both, and for now, the only thing he could do was give you the pleasure you so desperately craved.

He could feel the tension building within you, the way your body arched and trembled. And as he continued to pleasure you, he made a silent vow to himself—to give you everything he could at this moment, to make you feel alive and wanted, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

So he continued to move his finger inside you, and as he felt you drawing closer to the edge, he knew that he couldn't stop now. His thumb found your clit, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as he applied gentle pressure. Then with a sense of urgency, he plunged another finger deep inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way possible.

Your grip on his shirt tightened, your nails digging into the fabric as you clung to him desperately. "Pl-Please," you begged, heavy eyes searching for his own. "Please don't leave me."

His heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in your voice, the depth of emotion written plainly across your face. He couldn't bear to look at you any further, so he buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing tender kisses against your skin as his fingers continued their fast-paced rhythm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with anguish. "I'm so sorry."

His words were barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths, but you heard him clearly, and a loud moan ripped out of you. This was the cruelest form of rejection; to find pleasure in his touch only to be denied the warmth of his affection. You wanted to push him away, to scream at him for playing with your emotions, for making you believe there was something more. But as his fingers continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you ever closer to the edge of ecstasy, you found yourself unable to resist.

So you surrendered to him completely, because all that mattered was here and now—the ache between your legs, his lips worshiping your body, and the undeniable connection that bound you together, even as the world threatened to tear you apart.

[ihavewritersblockbutinreallife]

Someone tell me why, wen I was telling my coworker how hard it was raining on my way to work, I said "yeah it was intense", my immediate next thought was "pfft no stupid it was in a car durr"

For those of you who don't get it it's in the tags

[1smolbean]

been up since 5:30 i am so so so tired might even actually stay home from schooltomorrow

[planete777]

BAD INFLUENCE 2・⁠｡♪ LN4 [+ OP81]

( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)

READ PART 1!

IN WHICH. oscar never knew getting high with lando and y/n entailed... this. but he's not complaining.

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, threesome, oral sex (m & f rec.), referenced tit job, face sitting and anal (m rec.), a bit of sub!oscar because it's my roman empire, high hotness pt. 3574144, unprotected in v sex, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, squirting, realisations (they love each other, your honour), they're just nasty omg what have i written 😭

NOTE. PART 2 HAS ARRIVED!!! many of you asked and so i have to deliver amirite?!?!? credit to @mariahcarreyyy for the main smut scene idea!! i hope it's good enough for ya <3 enjoy luvss.

has now been edited.

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu @multifandomwhore-003 (use askbox if you'd like to be added!)

"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"

and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.

-.-.-.-.-

oscar feels fucking spent.

his cock lays limp, yet tingles with the undercurrent of arousal, and honest to God, if he fucked once more, he may never cum again.

thing is, he had thought the same 2 orgasms ago, and roughly an hour prior, but, as if the weed trickled a steady flow of dopamine into his bloodstream, the more they fucked, the more he hungered for another orgasm.

had his cock sucked completely dry by his teammate (how the fuck is lando this good at giving head?) as y/n sat on his face and he had all his prayers answered, before another climax was scooped out of him when y/n gave him a good tit job. never had he thought seeing his cum drizzled upon a girl's boobs like icing would be that cathartic, but it only gets worse when lando, the fucking nerve of that man, licks every drop like it were the remnants of a melting popsicle.

"your mouth, lando," oscar had whined out in absolute despair because, one day, it's gonna wipe him out like he never existed.

his teammate only smirked, lips oiled with spit and cum, before dragging his tongue up his girlfriend's neck, eyes hooked to oscar's, and shoving his tongue down y/n's throat. the noises were downright pornographic, pumping more blood to oscar's dick, and they ended up fucking, reverse cowgirl, as the girl wanked oscar off. he swore his dick would fall right right there and then, everything felt too good that there had to be a compromise, but he was yet to figure what that was. if there even was one.

wished he could say they were done, sated to the point where alarms for their flight tomorrow would be like whispers in a rainstorm. however, no matter how many breaks in between they took (consisting mostly of getting more high and sharing one spliff, which made it all hotter), a seemingly innocent make out would lead to one's mouth on another's crotch, or one's cock deep inside another (oscar had never, you know... bottomed, but fucking hell, lando's got some cock on him).

with a throbbing hole, and an equally throbbing dick, inert just minutes before, oscar has the dire need to squeeze one more orgasm before he allows himself to lay at fate's mercy.

a clammy body, flush against his own pink skin, wrings themselves out of his gentle hold and sits up, "you're hard again, baby?"

it's not really phrased as a question, but rather an interesting observation, and y/n trails a hand to grab his dick. it hurts, a dull pulse of ache bouncing through the skin, but it feel so so good and oscar's head is thrown back, mouth open as a heavy moan breaks through.

lando, from y/n's other side, watches intensely as she slowly jerks oscar off. his sternum elevates and sinks in a rapid succession, legs open wide to fully accomodate the hand working between them, and lando is fully mesmerised by it all.

shy, quiet oscar, who could have a man compelled by his hole alone, and besotted by the wonders of his mouth. lando wouldn't mind a throuple, not at all.

a sloppy kiss is left on the skin of y/n's jugular, "you want him?"

he can see the curve of his girlfriend's smile, pushing against her smooth cheek, and she knows what he means.

you want him for us?

"yeah," her hand slows, and oscar whines, lando giggles at that. so desperate. "not letting him go now."

then she's taking her hand off oscar completely, pushing her body into his to whisper, "wanna fuck me while i suck your mate off?"

and oscar's eyes glitter as they snap open and his head nods so fast, it nearly tumbles off his neck, lando's sure.

he's moving, sitting up and looking at the both of them with red, lidded eyes, and they hold so much, that lando wonders how one could retain it all.

y/n is smiling and wiggling onto her front, and it galvanises lando to bare his legs wide, cock hard and weeping precum. she gives it a small teasing lick and sparks zap through his dick, causing a hand to fly to her hair. he pulls ever so slightly, just as a warning, and she's smirking, giving the head a kiss.

"how do you want it?" oscar asks from behind her, calculative. she opens her legs more, pussy glistening, "any way you want to, baby."

he hums, kneading the flesh of her ass softly in confirmation, and grabs his dick to prod at her hole. it's tentative, almost adoring, before he slides in fully, soft and slow. he's so sweet, so gentle, as if it's his first time doing such a thing, and y/n can't withold the moan that pushes past her lips.

"oh fuck, oscar."

he's whining, hands tight around her waist.

lando pushes her down on his dick, saliva lathering his skin beautifully, y/n's nose deep in the tamed bush of hair. she allows herself to breathe, eyes shut tight, but then oscar's moving, so slow and slow deep that she choking on her moans, and lando's cock.

he pulls her off just slightly, but she slides him back in, dick thick and hot in her throat, and lando's moans are whorish.

"yes, baby," he's whining, "just like that."

oscar feels his orgasm creep on him too quickly, tries to think of anything that would slow it down, but the sight before him is so nasty, he loves it. lando is completely gone, fucking into y/n's throat like it's his last ever head, two hands in her hair. he's redder than oscar's ever seen him, curls stuck to his forehead like glue and muscles straining as he pulls his girlfriend on and off his cock.

"fuckkk— shit, i'm gonna cum," he groans out, hand moving to rub into y/n's clit. she's writhing, legs shaking as she slobbers all over the dick in her mouth and lando's face turns pained with pleasure, unmoving, as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

oscar can't stop his orgasm anymore, and it tumbles over him like a tsunami, hips snapping as he fills y/n deep. the sound of high pitched moans cry from lando's mouth, body trembling with the intensity of his climax and just as oscar slowly dwindles from his high, y/n is clenching around him so tightly and a gush of wetness splashes against his thigh.

his head whips down to see his legs drenched and oscar— he's mesmerised.

"shit, y/n," it's an awed whisper, "you're squirting?"

his voice sounds fucked out, and lando's eyes are sliding open, curious. the sound of liquid falling onto the bedding is so damning, and oscar pulls out to watch as her pussy clenches and pushes more out.

it's beautiful, what he's seeing.

"oh my God."

lando gently pushes her mouth off his dick and y/n's sobbing, back arching as she convulses.

"let it all out, baby," lando caresses her cheeks, "look at you being so good for oscar."

and at that, oscar figures he could get used to this, for as long as times wills.

[queerfables]

I've been weighing this for a while and I've finally settled on a reading of Crowley's big revelation in 2x05 that makes sense to me. It's my best guess at what's going on in his head, accounting for the conversation that leads up to this moment, and the conversations that follow.

Full disclosure, I don't have much evidence to discount the possibility that this is Crowley realising how he feels about Aziraphale, except that I think the overarching narrative of Good Omens holds together better if he already knew. I do think my interpretation is stronger in context, though.

Let's review, then: Crowley and Nina have a conversation in which Nina assumes Crowley and Aziraphale are a couple, Crowley denies it, and Nina refuses to believe him. She pries into the reasons he might be lying and finishes up by saying, "Other people's love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own." Crowley walks off looking like he's been hit by a truck.

In his next scene, Crowley is getting day drunk at the French restaurant across from the bookshop. He invites Aziraphale to drink with him, which Aziraphale declines. Crowley quickly starts brooding about the archangel they're hiding in the bookshop. "I spent last night worrying if he's going to wake up. What if he remembers who he is? What if he's faking it?"

I think there's a clear and direct line from conversation A to conversation B. Crowley realises that everyone can see he and Aziraphale are in love. Crowley panics about Gabriel regaining his memories. Rather than a revelation of feelings, I think this was a revelation of danger. Crowley and Aziraphale have survived through secrecy and deception, and it's hitting Crowley that their performance is slipping, under what could be the most intense scrutiny they've ever faced.

This could be a factor in Crowley's subsequent confrontation of Gabriel. I agree with @baggvinshield that pushing Gabriel to jump out the window was a test, but I also think that behind the calculating strategy is scared animal instinct. Gabriel is a threat that it would be safest to just eliminate. Crowley needs to be really fucking sure about him.

It makes sense if the conversation with Nina is what triggers Crowley's fears to resurface, because Crowley's just spent almost a full day alone with Gabriel and he wasn't on high alert the whole time. He let his guard down a little when discussing gravity and while summoning the rainstorm for Maggie and Nina. He was pretty keen to get out of there when Aziraphale got back, but he also sounded fairly relaxed when asked about Gabriel. I think in that moment he's more unsettled by Shax lurking around and the consequences of harbouring a fugitive than afraid of Gabriel himself.

I think Crowley's revelation reads like a romantic "oh" because that's what we're primed to expect. It's a common trope, right? Someone accuses the romantic leads of acting like a couple and they realise it's true. But I think that Crowley's jump to fretting about Gabriel makes more sense if he's realising how obvious their feelings are than if he's only just realising what they mean.

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Lost With You

Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Summary: getting caught in a storm with your sweet boyfriend

Warning: FLUFF, kissing, swearing probably, gn but use of 'sweetheart'

700ish words

A/N: little gif drabble, not proofread all mistakes are my own

You had set out for a hunt in Minnesota earlier in the morning. Sam was out of commission due to hurting his leg on the last hunt, so that left you and Dean to deal with the latest pop up of werewolves alone. Even though you hated seeing Sam hurt, you'd be lying if you said you minded the alone time you were getting with your boyfriend. You loved the long drives with Dean; it felt freeing being with him, windows rolled down blasting music.

At this point the sun had long since set and you had been driving most of the day, aside from the occasional food or gas stop. You had hoped to make it to the motel and get some shut eye before scoping out the town in the morning. Driving down a stretch of backroads, everything was going as planned until the sky suddenly decided to unleash the most intense rainstorm you had ever seen. The sky darkend even more and the droplets pelted the windshield so hard you couldn't hear the radio anymore.

"Son of a bitch, the bottom really dropped out didn't it," Dean said clicking on the brights, not that it helped.

After a few minutes of struggling to see the road and losing the reception on the GPS, Dean pulled over onto the side of the road. As good of a driver as he was, he knew when to throw in the towel. Right now he couldn't see more that two feet in front of the car, had no idea where he was going, and he was not willing to put you or his car in danger for the sake of making it to the motel.

"Guess we're stuck here for a while" he turned to you.

"Where even are we?", you asked pulling out you phone to see if you had any reception. To no avail.

"Honestly I have no idea" he said with a humorless laugh "But get comfy, I don't think it's clearing up anytime soon". He turned and reached over the seat, digging into one of the duffel bags and pulling out a few lore books.

Turning back, he tossed one to you before resting his back against the door and started flipping through his book.

After about a half and hour of reading, you started to lose focus. You were tired physically and tired of researching. Your eyes drifted up to your boyfriend, you couldn't help but admire how he looked right now. It was pitch black outside, but the glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the side of his face, bringing out all of the contours of his face, the curve of his lips, the soft freckles on the bridge of his nose. You loved him so much and it was moments like this that made you realize that all the more. Moments like this where you were able to make the best out of the worst situations; together.

You're definitely staring and now he's looking at you. "What?", he asks wondering why you're staring at him with a peaceful smile on your lips.

"What?" you echo softly, sounding dazed and tried.

"You're staring" a teasing smirk graces his face but he can tell you're still lost in thought.

For another moment you look into his eyes, losing all sense of reality and you can't help but reach over and cup his cheek. There's a brief look of confusion the crosses his face before he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch.

"You ok?" he asks eyes still closed before opening them to gauge your reaction.

"Sometimes I love you so much it overwhelms me."

You said it so genuinely that Dean was taken aback. He didn't really know how to respond to that and if he thought about the weight of your words it would probably make him cry. Before he could think about it, he was reaching for you.

"C'mer," he said tossing his book into the floorboard and pulling you to lay between his legs with your head over his heart.

You sighed contentedly, nuzzling you face into the warm flannel lining of his jacket.

"I love you too, sweetheart", he said pulling his spare jacket over you and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

He looked down at you and could see that you were teetering on the edge of falling asleep. "Let's just stay here for tonight", the rain was still coming down heavy and he was pretty sure he was too tired to find his way to the motel.

"Ok," your voice was muffled by how your face was hidden in his shirt.

Dean smiled down at you and felt sleep tugging at him too. He settled back against the door, feet propped up on the bench seat with you laying on him, and thought that, in the grand scheme of it all, there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here. Lost with you.

[h8ani]

Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

Word Count - 4k

Warnings - smut, angry sex, public sex, fear of getting caught, hair pulling, angst, slight paranoia, kinda non-canon structures (its been a long time since i watched naruto tbh so disregard the village not being exactly how the anime is), oral - male receiving, face fucking, gagging, degradation, penetrative sex, fem!reader, choking, reader is described to be wearing a dress in this chapter, there’s a voyeur

A/N - Just a reminder that if you have joined my taglist and change your username please let me know! If you haven't joined I put the link down below :) But holy hell you guys I can't believe I actually finished this after almost 5 months in my drafts, but I hope you enjoy it!

taglist! - @bloodsiren @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho @kodzukein

join my taglist → here

Part One → Part Two → Part Three → Part Four

It’s been a few days since the last time Sasuke was over. You’re used to the silence in between his visits; it’s become second nature to go days, even weeks, without seeing him, and the radio silence between each time he visits has become more common than the last. 

It doesn’t bother you. It does. You could really care less. Sasuke has been the only thing that’s been on your mind. You absolutely hate him. You feel…conflicted.

~~

Limbs tangled with one another, all you could hear were the heavy breaths that escaped both of your lips, your body rising and falling every time Sasuke took in a deep breath as you laid on top of him, his hands dancing along the skin of your back so featherlight it almost tickled. 

Neither of you had uttered a word, just basking in the feeling of touching the other’s skin; the warmth radiating off each other’s body heat brought a sense of familiarity that you couldn’t quite pinpoint just why you felt most comfortable in his arms. You mentally shook the thought away; there was no need to focus on that. Your mind had already cleared up from the sex fog he had put you under and had started to race with a million different things that you wanted to bring up to him. Why did he do what he did? When was he going to leave again? He’s going to leave right away, don’t be stupid. When were you going to see him again? Why did he leave in the first place? You wanted to bring up so much, but you couldn’t brush off this feeling that something was about to happen, as if the rainstorm you were caught up in earlier today was a warning of a disaster brewing and about to happen. 

“What’s wrong,” Sasuke spoke up, his words sounding more like a statement than a question. His eyes were trained on you, making your stomach involuntarily tighten with their intensity. He had been focusing on the multitude of expressions that had graced your face within the last minute; you were completely oblivious to his stare; somehow, he wanted to blame the sex for your lack of inattentiveness and not the fact that you may feel safe around him, no it couldn’t be that. Being distracted has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you being incompetent. Yeah, that’s it.  

Your eyes met his, and before he knew it, your eyes lit up, a small smile appeared, and a simple shake of the head erased any form of contemplation he had previously seen. “Nothing.” You quickly say, “Just thinking.” Bullshit

“About what?” He interjects, his hands that were once dancing lightly across your back were now holding your hips, gripping ever so slightly. 

“Just thinking, random thoughts, it doesn’t matter.” 

“If it doesn’t matter, then you can tell me.”

Huffing a sigh, you stare back at him, his emotionless pools of black not letting you get a read on him, yours: uncertainty. “You won’t answer me even if I ask.”

He raises and sits up, causing you to reposition yourself in an upright position as well; your eyes stay trained on him as his stare hardens, almost as if what you just said offended him somehow. His eyes glance into yours as if he needs to be wary now. “I’m not answering anything about why I’m back in the village or why I left.” He blurts out quickly, a scoff following soon after. “You know you can’t say anything about seeing me. Don’t go blabbing about it to any of your little friends, or I won’t be coming back.” His stare solidifies as your jaw drops ever so slightly; the hardened look he’s giving you makes your chest tighten, and your body rises in temperature. 

Sasuke sees your expression fall ever so slightly before you catch yourself and, in turn, sends the signature scowl he’s grown accustomed to back in his direction. Your eyes narrow while you sit up straighter, the discarded sheet on the bed now pulled tightly to your chest, and he curses at the way that made his stomach clench. He doesn’t care if you’re mad at him, but he can’t lie and say he didn’t want to ruin your two’s good momentum today. The sex was great, and he wanted to leave on what would be considered a good note for the both of you.

“I think you should go,” you say simply. You avert your glare and decide to stare at the wall instead, avoiding his eyes. “You know where the door is.” Ouch.

He rubs his face and sighs. “Look, you don’t get-”

“I don’t care, Sasuke. Like I said, it didn’t matter. So why don’t you just leave? I never saw you, and I’m not going to tell any of my “little friends.” 

You sigh and throw the blankets off you, quickly grabbing your clothes and slamming your bathroom door shut. 

Your throat tightened from the moment you got up, wanting to get away from him from the very moment he opened his stupid mouth. You take a slow, deep breath and let it out; the tightness in your throat drops to your stomach. Why would he even snap like that? What gives him the right to think he could speak like that to you? You miff another sigh out as the conflict in you bubbles up even more with the thoughts running rampant. How stupid could you be for thinking he actually could’ve been somewhat of a nice human being after today?

Your thoughts were quickly silenced by the sound of your front door opening and closing, the door shutting louder than necessary. Fucking asshole.

~~

You shake your head to rid yourself of your thoughts as you look at yourself in the mirror, you fix your hair and check over your outfit in the mirror, quickly doing a little 360 in your mirror. Everyone had decided that tonight was a good night to hang out and have some drinks as no one had any missions for tomorrow, so there was no need to worry about any impending hangovers. 

You changed into a nice dress that fell mid-thigh; it was form-fitting and casual enough that you didn’t overdress or underdress with it. You pulled your hair into a high ponytail and just enough makeup to cover any eye bags that were more prominent than usual, no less from your sleepless nights thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named-or-thought-of. You looked yourself over in the mirror and smiled. You felt pretty tonight, and it was nice not constantly to be in work mode for once.

The stressors from work and the expectations you always got from everyone took a toll on your body more than you would have liked. You were expected to never make any mistakes and always be three steps ahead, and it was simply a lot. Was it fair? Probably not, but it was also what you got for being a perfectionist at such a young age. You gave everyone expectations where you could only rise instead of fall. If you fell, everyone would know, and you just couldn’t have that. 

You leave your apartment and make your way down to meet your friends. The air had a slight chill to it as the sun was finally setting, but something along with the chill was bothering you. You couldn’t brush off the feeling that someone was watching you. 

Your feet skid to a halt as you spin, eyes cascading along the rooftops of the buildings around you. Your breathing picks up as your heart begins beating, and you feel every thump as your anxiety spikes. You internally curse yourself for being so stupid as not to even bring a single shuriken with you. For god’s sake, you could’ve popped one in your purse just for safekeeping. The anxiety you feel is derived from being paranoid, and you have to remind yourself no one is watching you and that it’s just your own mind playing tricks on you. You take a deep breath as you hear a name call out to you; turning back around, you see Shikamaru and Choji waving you over. You speed walk over to them, swallowing down the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. Was Sasuke here again? You wouldn’t expect him to be over so soon after the fight you two had just days ago. He’s never over this soon after he leaves anyway. Usually, it takes weeks for him to come over, sometimes even months. Although his eyes being the ones you’ve felt had to have been it, there’s no other explanation.

~~

The buzz of the alcohol was finally settling in; once you got inside, you decided you needed a tiny little shot to calm your nerves and anxieties, then another once all your friends arrived and wanted to take a group shot, and now here you are ordering your third. You’re a lightweight, no shock about that, and feeling a bit dazed as you stare at the shot of alcohol sitting in front of you. You’re so zoned out, not even realizing the presence of someone taking the seat next to you at the bar table.

“You look nice tonight.” A familiar voice catches your ear, and you turn, seeing Shikamaru next to you. A sudden rush of heat hits you as you stare back at him. “Oh, T-Thank you.” You stutter out and mentally smack yourself. You divert your attention back to your shot glass, suddenly remembering how intriguing it was just two seconds ago. 

Suddenly, hearing the sound of glass scraping against the bar table, you look up and see a similar shot in Shikamaru’s hand. “Cheers?” He holds up his shot glass, waiting for you to do the same. A small chuckle leaves you as you hold yours up and clink your glass with his. “Cheers.” 

You knock back the shot, grimacing over the familiar burn down your throat and the fuzzy feeling deep in your stomach. You sigh and slump back against your seat as you look at Shikamaru. “You look nice too, I think I forgot to compliment you back.” 

He chuckles, “Thanks, I didn’t really know what to wear. I wanted to come in sweats and a hoodie, but Ino just about had a conniption when I mentioned that.”

“Oh, don’t lie, you didn’t even want to come to this.”

“And you did?”

“Well, you got me there, didn’t you?” 

Laughter fills the air around you two as you continue to talk about past missions, the latest drama you’ve heard around the village, and even as mundane as the midnight snacks you two have had, you were actually…enjoying yourself; the thought of Sasuke had been dissipated like the rain that had come and gone from the prior days. Listening to Shikamaru talk was something you found yourself rather enjoying. Still, maybe that’s just the alcohol in your veins talking. Yeah, that was definitely it. “So, what’s new with you?” Shikamaru asks, his eyes finding yours, and the sudden tightness is once again back, whether that being because the only thing that seems to be ‘new’ in your life was Sasuke and every little defiling and obscene moment between you two replayed again in your head or because you actually might be liking the attention Shikamaru is giving you the world will never know. 

“Ah, you know. Lots of training, lots of missions, lots of-”

“Staying in your apartment all day and night?”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, lips slowly following suit. “Shikamaru Nara, are you stalking me?” An indiscernible giggle leaves your lips, which shocks not only you but also him. You can see the pink rising to his cheeks at your minor faux accusation; his eyes widen, and his hands immediately come up to defend himself. “No, I just hear Ino constantly nagging at me to hang out with her, that’s how I know. I don’t stand out of your window or anything like that. Do you know how much time and energy that takes? Do you know-”

“Shikamaru?” 

“What?”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.”

“You know, for someone with an IQ higher than a tree, you’re kinda dumb.”

“You know what…Shut up.”

~~

The air around you as you step outside drops a few degrees, causing you to shiver despite the multiple shots you had earlier. Glancing around, you notice how barren the pathways are and how barren the town seems. You glance back over your shoulder to see that Shikamaru is already on his way with his teammates, all drunk themselves, as you see them stumbling against each other. 

Your apartment isn’t far from where you are, so you, in turn, make your way down the path. Bad idea. The more you walk, the more you regret that last shot you took and every single life choice you seem to have made tonight because the line you had been walking in had slowly turned into a wave, making you plant your hand on the building beside you. “Just a little more, and I’m almost home.” You blow out a sigh before taking another step forward. Looking up, your body freezes as you see a rock fly past you and fall to the floor to your right. Your senses come to realize that someone is near as you stare at the rock. The alcohol has slowed your reflexes because you’re yanked backward, a scream bubbling up in your throat. Still, before you can release it, a hand is clasped over your mouth, and you get dragged in between the two buildings down the small alleyway.

You begin kicking back and screaming into the hand, fighting as you’re dragged back further into the small space between the two buildings, your front pressed against the wall and the chills finding their way back up your spine once you hear his voice. “How stupid could you be?” His voice is loud in your ear, hand still firm against your mouth, not allowing you to utter a word. “Walking home drunk is one thing, but what the fuck are you wearing?” He seethes. Your dress is already riding up higher on your thighs, just below your ass, due to being pressed between the wall and the man himself. It took all of one big gust of wind to blow it up or one perverted old man to ‘drop’ something of his to catch a look up your dress. The anger that welled up in his chest was undeniable as he pushed off of you and spun you around to slam you harder into the wall itself. Your eyes caught him scanning over you; his already dark eyes seemed even darker tonight. The dress you wore hugged every inch of you perfectly, and it drove him madder seeing it hiked up higher than intended, all thanks to him. One more inch, and he could see the little lace thong he knew you were wearing. He finds your eyes and tsks at the dumbfounded look you gave him; just how stupid were you? 

“Sasuke-”

“Shut up and get on your knees.” He cuts you off, hands gripping your arms and tugging you down until you plop down on your knees. The dirt underneath you digs uncomfortably into your skin. You look up, pupils dilated as you stare up at the ravenette. “Unless you want us to be caught, I suggest you not utter a single noise.” Without warning, Sasuke pushes two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, pumping the digits like they were his cock until they were soaked with your own spit. “I suggest you act right, given your circumstances.” He speaks, and your eyes narrow up at him; the urge to clamp your teeth on his fingers threatens to come to fruition, but you can’t ignore the subtle throb in between your legs. “Suck.” He says while pushing his fingers deeper and tugging his pants down with his other hand, pulling down the material along with his underwear, allowing his cock to spring out. You could feel yourself salivate just looking at him, wanting to trade his fingers for his cock against your better judgment. He presses his fingers down harder against your tongue, causing you to gag and choke on saliva; you can hear the snicker that comes from him as he watches you trying to quieten your coughing spout. 

His hand threads into your hair, messing up your almost perfect ponytail, the grip burning your scalp as he pulls you forward, knees dragging against the ground while the tip of his cock presses against your wet lips, his precum smearing across them in an almost erotic way that Sasuke doesn’t think he could last by just looking at you. 

You drop your jaw open while he pushes his cock past your lips, enveloping himself in the warmth that is your mouth. The grip on your hair grants you nothing but pain as his hips begin to move to their own rhythm, his cock hitting farther back than the last thrust. You try your best to breathe through your nose as he fucks your face to his liking; maybe if your mind weren’t so focused on Sasuke being here, cock down your throat and his eyes watching you so meticulously, you’d have the nerve to push back, make him slow down, maybe even explain why he knew you were out with your friends in the first place and not at home. 

Tugging you even tighter, Sasuke pushes your head until your nose is brushing against his stomach; your throat tightens as he effectively pushes each inch into your throat. “You feel me? Do you think that Shikamaru could ever stretch your throat out like I do? He might as well try something with you seeing how fucking drunk you were tonight.” His hips rock forward until his dick hits further back into your throat. You choke around him, drool effectually spilling past your lips and down your chin. 

Eyes squeezing shut, you sputter another cough, which turns into a gag around his length. A disapproving noise is heard from him as he pulls away, allowing you to take in deep breaths. As you open your eyes, you see him crouched down in front of you, a look one can only describe as displeasure. “How stupid could you be?” he says, slightly shaking his head before he speaks again. You’re supposed to be better than them.” 

“Better than-”

Crack!

“Naruto! You idiot!” You gasp as you hear the rest of your friends walking down and getting closer to the alleyway you were in. They must’ve just now left the bar you all were at; this isn’t good; you need to leave; they can’t see you like this. You pull farther away from Sasuke as you see them pass the opening between the two buildings, all of them stumbling and unknowingly passing you as they walk. 

Another tsk leaves his mouth as he shoves you forward; you catch yourself on your hands while grimacing at the sting that travels through the skin of your knees. You feel his hands positioning himself behind you, all while pushing your dress up to your hips and pulling your thong to the side. Suddenly feeling every bit of alcohol drain from your system, you become hyper-aware of what is really happening; you jolt forward, and before you can spin around to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, you’re yanked back by your hair, back arching to the point where you’re staring straight into his eyes. “Make sure to be quiet, or else everyone is going to see how much you love taking my cock.” A deep chuckle vibrates through him. “What would they think when seeing you on all fours in an alley? Perfect little (y/n) crying from how good my cock makes her feel; how would you ever live that down? You think Shikamaru would ever give you the slightest bit of attention after that?” 

Letting go of your hair, a knee between your thighs pushed them further apart while you balanced yourself on your hands. The itching feeling that someone could see or be watching from a distance burns brighter than the pain in your knees. The swollen tip of his cock prods your already glistening entrance; you bite down on your lip to stop any form of a whine from slipping out. You swallow down the nerves as his hand leaves your hair to slip around your throat; the silent plea that he wouldn’t make this difficult left the moment his hips slammed into yours, his hand tightening on your throat, restraining the scream that threatened to bubble out. He gave you no time to adjust, his hand leaving your throat and falling to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh so tight as he slammed into you that you knew bruises would be there by morning. 

You can’t help but glance up, fearing that any of your friends could leave the bar at any time and pass by, seeing you in the most compromising position you feel like you’ve been in. The subtle feeling that there’s a pair of eyes on the two of you grows larger while you scan around. No one has passed by the entrance, and this feeling could only be explained by you being scared of getting caught. 

Sasuke’s breathy grunts found your ears, and a pang of alarm shot right through you as he was the one making noise. The subtle sound of skin slapping skin makes you even more fearful. The coil in your stomach is already winding tight; the quieter you have to become, the more your pussy grips him. You clench around him, pussy squeezing for dear life. Your nails dig into the ground beneath you, knuckles turning white. 

“Oh, God…” You pant, dropping your head down between your shoulders. The sounds of everyone’s voices can be heard in the distance, and you try desperately to focus on anything other than the impending orgasm that’s slowly building up. 

Sasuke shifts, bringing his hand in between your legs and fingers quickly to find your clit, rubbing quick little circles. You bite down hard on your lip, the silvery taste of metallic dancing on your tongue from allowing the moan that threatened to escape. No, You won’t give him the satisfaction of making you cum, especially this fast. You grab his hand to stop his fingers and feel his hand that was once placed on your waist slide across your skin and reach back up to your throat, drawing your back flush to his chest, knees digging deeper into the gravel on the ground and seemingly reaching deeper within you, a desperate whine left your lips as your eyes faintly rolled back. “Stop me from making you cum, and I swear to god, you’re going to regret it.” He growls while tightening his grip on your throat and bringing his other hand back to your clit. His hips snapped into you even deeper while he assaulted your clit. You struggle to gasp as the coil in you snaps; your body shakes as you lean back into him more, pushing him even deeper that you swear you see stars. You spasmed as you dug your nails into the hand that held your throat while he continued to pound into you. 

He was chasing his own release, and the way he felt like you two would be caught at any moment spurred him on even more. He knew tonight was a lot, even on his standards of fucking you, but the way your pussy was fluttering around him, the deeper he got, and the rougher he became, he couldn’t stop. Your walls clenched around him, climax dragging out as your pleasure was heightened as he fucked into you; your name tumbled off of his lips before he bit into your shoulder, muffling the sinful moan he released as he came. You both fell forward, barely catching yourselves before hitting the ground, with heavy breaths syncing with one another while you catch your wit on what you two just did. 

The feeling of someone watching you never did go away. 

The angry pair of eyes attached to the redhead at the back end of the alleyway never left you two, either. 

network: @enchantedforest-network

[hellmunsonfire]

As Eddie's cock slid further inside you, you felt a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of pleasure. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with desire and intensity.

''You feel that?'' he whispered huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he began to rock his hips back and forth. You nodded silently, unable to form words as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Eddie's fingers dug gently into your hips as he picked up pace, driving himself deeper into you with each stroke. Your nails dug reflexively into his shoulders as you felt yourself being consumed by the primal, animalistic passion between you.

''Oh God…'' You moaned softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing. His cock throbbed and pulsed within you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body like a tidal wave.

His cock was like a velvet-covered rod of steel, thick and unyielding as it pushed its way deeper into you. The ridges and veins on his cockhead scraped against your inner walls, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. With each stroke, he'd pause for a moment at the entrance to your cervix, teasing you with the promise of more before slowly pushing forward. His balls slapped gently against your ass cheeks with every thrust, creating a soothing rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of your hearts.

You felt yourself getting wetter by the second, juices flowing freely from your pussy like a river bursting its banks. The sound of your lovemaking filled the air - creaking bedframe, heavy breathing, and the slapping of his balls against your ass.

Eddie's eyes never left yours, burning with a fierce intensity as he watched you come undone beneath him. His fingers dug deeper into your hips, guiding himself in and out of you with precision. Your body was on fire, every cell screaming for more as Eddie continued to ravage you with slow, deliberate strokes.

The pleasure was building inside you like a storm cloud gathering force - dark and foreboding yet tantalizingly close to release. With a final, powerful thrust, Eddie pulled out of you and came crashing down onto your body. His hot cum splattered against your skin like a summer rainstorm, coating your breasts and belly in its sticky warmth. His moans were like thunderclaps - loud, primal, and utterly uncontrollable. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he rode out the waves of orgasmic bliss.

You felt him shudder and tremble above you, his body wracked with convulsions as he emptied himself onto you. As he finally stilled above you, you could feel him gazing at you with a look of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, his face flushed with the heat of passion.

''Fuck... it was.. it was something else,'' he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his voice barely audible over the sound of his ragged breathing.

You smiled up at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you as you wrapped your arms around him. You lay there for a long moment, entwined in each other's embrace as the aftershocks of your lovemaking slowly faded away.

[chillypowder]

Powder Blue

Pairing: Jinx (Powder) x Reader

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Act 3 Healing Vibes

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of emotional vulnerability, brief discussions of chaos and destruction (Jinx being Jinx). Overall, it’s a soft and tender piece meant to heal your heart.

Summary:

Zaun isn’t known for its quiet moments, but you’ve always found them with her—whether she’s Jinx, Powder, or the storm in between. After everything she’s been through, you’re her anchor, her “sunshine,” even when she insists she’s the thundercloud. Tonight, beneath the smog-filled sky of the Undercity, you remind her that stars, no matter how hidden, never burn out—and neither does she.

Notes:

This is for all the Arcane lovers who were emotionally wrecked after Acts 2 and 3 (raises hand). I wanted to write something soft and dreamlike, like the kind of fluff you fall into after a heavy rainstorm. Jinx deserves peace and someone who reminds her that she’s more than her chaos. Reader is gender-neutral and full of love. Let’s heal together!

The air smells of ash and copper, but it’s soft, almost like the remnants of fireworks in a summer sky. Zaun always had a way of making things feel heavy, like the weight of a smog-filled sky pressing down on you, but tonight? Tonight feels different. Tonight, she’s here.

Jinx.

Or maybe she’s still Powder to you, even now. You’ve never been able to pick a side, not when it came to her. Not when her eyes, burning with chaos and brilliance, find you across the workshop you’ve quietly tucked yourself into for the evening.

“Hey, sunshine.” Her voice rings like a melody, mismatched and full of energy, dragging you from your thoughts before you can start wallowing. The door slams shut behind her, and her boots clink against the uneven floor. She’s bouncing on the heels of her feet, a grin that doesn’t quite reach her eyes spreading wide as she leans against your desk. “What’re ya doing in here all alone? Didn’t you miss me?”

You blink, still caught between the memory of who she used to be and the whirlwind she’s become. It hurts sometimes, like a pinprick in your chest, but tonight you push it aside. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Jinx needs your steadiness. Needs the quiet you offer when her head gets too loud.

“Just working on something,” you reply, your voice soft, a balm to her usual sharpness. You motion to the half-finished contraption on the table—a little music box that you thought might make her smile. You don’t tell her it’s for her, though. Not yet.

She tilts her head, her pigtails swaying with the motion, a curious glint sparking in her eyes. “Ooh, what’s that? It looks... fiddly.” Her fingers twitch as if resisting the urge to grab it and take it apart. Jinx has always been like this—a hurricane with hands, tearing things apart to see how they work, only to put them back together in ways no one else would ever dream of.

“It’s... not finished yet,” you say, moving it out of her reach before she can snatch it up.

She pouts, her lips curving downward, and it’s almost enough to undo you. “You’re no fun,” she mutters, but there’s no bite in her words. Instead, she slides onto the desk next to you, her long legs swinging over the edge as she watches you with that unnervingly intense gaze of hers.

You let the silence settle between you for a moment, comfortable despite the unspoken things hanging in the air. The hum of Zaun’s machinery rumbles softly in the background, a lullaby of gears and steam.

“How was your day?” you ask eventually, glancing up at her.

Her grin widens, almost too wide, and she starts talking—fast and animated, her words tumbling over each other as she recounts her latest escapade. Something about a heist, explosions, and narrowly escaping one of Piltover’s enforcers. You know you should probably scold her, tell her to be careful, but the way she lights up when she talks about it makes it impossible.

“And then, boom!” she says, throwing her arms out dramatically. “The whole thing went up in flames! You should’ve seen it—it was beautiful!”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to keep the fond smile from tugging at your lips. “Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah, like... like a firework,” she says, her voice softening just a little. Her eyes drift to you, and for a moment, something vulnerable flickers in their depths. “You like fireworks, don’t you?”

You nod. “They remind me of you.”

Her head tilts again, and for once, she doesn’t try to hide the way her cheeks flush pink. “Tch. You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe,” she says, her grin returning full force. But there’s a softness there now, a quiet understanding that settles in her features like a shadow. She reaches out suddenly, her hand brushing against yours where it rests on the desk. Her fingers are calloused, scarred, but warm. “Thanks,” she says, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“For what?”

“For... I don’t know. For putting up with me, I guess.” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but you can feel the weight of her words. She’s always been bad at saying how she feels, always hiding behind laughter and chaos, but you’ve learned to read between the lines.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you say, your voice steady. “You’re not something I have to ‘put up with,’ Jinx.”

Her eyes flicker down to the floor, and for a moment, you think she might argue, might push you away like she’s done so many times before. But instead, she stays quiet, her fingers still brushing against yours.

It’s a small thing, barely noticeable, but it feels like a victory.

The night stretches on, and somehow you end up on the rooftop, the city sprawled out below you like a broken mosaic of light and shadow. Jinx is lying on her back next to you, her arms stretched out above her head as she stares up at the smog-covered sky.

“Do you think the stars are still up there?” she asks suddenly, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You glance at her, surprised by the question. “Of course they are.”

She hums, her eyes half-lidded. “I dunno. Feels like they might’ve all burned out by now, y’know? With how dark it’s gotten.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you stay quiet, your gaze drifting upward. The sky is heavy with smoke and pollution, the stars hidden behind layers of grime, but you like to think they’re still there, waiting.

Jinx shifts beside you, rolling onto her side so she’s facing you. “You ever think about leaving this place?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turn to look at her, your heart clenching at the vulnerability in her expression. “Sometimes,” you admit. “But not without you.”

Her eyes widen, just a fraction, and for a moment, you think you’ve said the wrong thing. But then she laughs, a soft, breathless sound that makes your chest ache. “You’re such a sap,” she says, but there’s no malice in her tone. If anything, she sounds... touched.

“Maybe,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But I mean it.”

She stares at you for a long moment, her eyes searching yours like she’s trying to find the cracks in your sincerity. But you’ve never lied to her, not once, and you won’t start now.

Finally, she sighs, flopping onto her back again. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sunshine,” she mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile in her voice.

The night ends with her falling asleep against your shoulder, her breathing soft and even as the weight of the day finally catches up to her. You stay still, not wanting to wake her, and let your eyes drift shut as well.

For a moment, everything feels okay.

And for now, that’s enough.

The music box sits on her desk the next morning, finished and polished to perfection. When she wakes, groggy and blinking against the morning light, her eyes land on it, and you watch as her expression shifts from confusion to wonder.

She picks it up carefully, like it might shatter in her hands, and when she winds it up, the soft melody fills the room—a song she used to hum when you were kids, back before everything fell apart.

She doesn’t say anything, but when she looks at you, her eyes are shining, and for the first time in a long time, you see a piece of Powder there.

“Thank you,” she says, and this time, you know she means it.

You smile, reaching out to brush a strand of blue hair from her face. “Always.”

Masterlist

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 30

CHARACTER: Tyler Owens

KINK: Car Sex (Truck Sex)

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (biting, p in v sex, semi in public/where you could get caught)

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Twisters (Mostly Tyler right now, but possibly others soon)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The low rumble of the truck as you cruise along the highway is oddly comforting, blending with the soft tunes of 90s country coming through the radio. Tyler drums his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, one arm stretched casually along the top, his hand dangerously close to where you’re sitting. His confidence is effortless—grounded, but with a spark of mischief in his eyes whenever he glances your way. After getting caught in that rainstorm, he’d shot you a grin and shrugged it off, wet t-shirt and all. But it had left you flustered, noticing every inch of him in ways you usually tried to keep to yourself.

“So,” he starts, breaking the comfortable silence. “Worth the detour for that burger, huh?”

You let out a laugh, grateful for the chance to ease some of the tension building between you two. “Absolutely. I think I would’ve wasted away if we’d just gone straight back.”

He chuckles, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. The wet fabric of his t-shirt clings to him as if daring you not to look, showing off the muscle in his shoulders, the veins on his forearms.

“You okay over there?” he asks, his voice teasing but warm. The mischievous look in Tyler's eyes is unmistakable, even if he’s trying to keep his focus on the road. 

But then you decide two can play this game. Your lips curve into a smirk before you adjust in your seat, letting yourself have a little more room to lean over the console.

When your hand first rests on his knee, he seems amused, even relaxed, but when your fingers start to move upward, you notice his jaw tense slightly, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. 

The subtle power in his reaction emboldens you, and you can’t help but push things just a little further.

Your fingers trail over his thigh, brushing the front of his jeans. You feel him tense under your touch, his breath catching slightly, and then you catch the slight shake of his head, paired with a low chuckle.

He clears his throat. "Now, just what do you think you're up to?" His voice is low, rougher than before, laced with both amusement and a touch of restraint. You glance up, meeting his gaze, feigning innocence with a small shrug.

"Up to?" you say, keeping your voice as light as possible. "I'm just sitting here. What do you think I’m doing?"

Tyler’s hand, still resting over yours, gives another squeeze, this time firmer, his thumb tracing over your knuckles.

“I think,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “you know exactly what you're doing.” He releases his hand from yours just long enough to turn up the music, using it as an excuse to adjust his posture—maybe to regain a bit of control.

You flash him a playful smile. "Oh, come on, Tyler. I thought you liked it when I kept you on your toes."

His laugh is warm, a little breathy. “Trust me, I do.” He pauses, his eyes cutting over to you with a look that’s both soft and intense. “Just not when I’m driving, sweetheart.”

The growl that escapes Tyler’s lips is low and guttural as you press kisses into his neck, your teeth grazing the sensitive spots you know drive him wild. His breaths come shorter, more strained, and he shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the road as you continue your teasing, unrelenting.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with warning, “if you don’t stop, I swear…” But even as he says it, his hips move up instinctively to meet the pressure of your hand. He’s torn between maintaining control and giving in, and the internal struggle shows in every flex of his jaw, every grip of his hands as he tries to hold on.

You lean up, letting your breath brush against his ear. “Relax, Tyler. I trust you,” you whisper, your voice teasing, knowing full well that your words make it even harder for him to resist.

With a low curse, he tries once more, his tone nearly pleading, “Honey, you’re gonna make us crash.” But even as he says it, his body betrays him, pressing into your hand with increasing urgency. His breath hitches as you run your fingers along the front of his jeans again, this time applying more pressure. His body leans into yours, the tension nearly vibrating between you.

He finally pulls his hand from the wheel just long enough to grab your wrist, halting your movements. 

"Alright," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, eyes still locked forward, his grip firm but full of unspoken promise. “You’re going to pay for that when we get back.”

You then hear Tyler and sigh and curse under his breath as he glances at the rearview mirror. You watch him start to slow the truck and pull over to the shoulder of the highway. You glance through the back window and see the unmistakable red and blue lights of a police officer.

The moment Tyler pulls the truck over, the tension shifts from playful to cautious. You can see the way his expression tightens as he watches the officer approach the window. The flashing red and blue lights reflect off the dashboard, casting a pulsing glow that heightens the mood in the cab.

“Just stay calm,” you murmur, trying to reassure him as you lean back in your seat, your heart still racing from your earlier teasing. Tyler nods, his jaw set as he rolls down the window, the humid air rushing in, mingled with the scent of rain.

The officer bends slightly to peer into the cab, his demeanor professional but relaxed. “Evening, sir. I need to see your license and registration.”

Tyler fumbles with the glove compartment, glancing nervously at you as he retrieves the documents. You pass them to him, your fingers brushing against his in a moment that feels all too intimate given the circumstances. He hands the documents out the window, maintaining eye contact with the officer.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the officer asks, his voice steady as he inspects the papers.

“Um, I’m guessing it’s because I was speeding?” Tyler replies, a hint of a nervous chuckle in his tone. You can see the flush creeping up his neck as the officer raises an eyebrow.

“You were weaving a bit too, which is why I stopped you. Have you been drinking tonight?”

Tyler shakes his head vigorously. “No, sir. Not at all. Just trying to get back to the motel before that storm hits.” He gestures vaguely toward the darkening sky, which is heavy with rain clouds.

The officer narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been speeding and weaving for several miles. I’d like to know what really happened back there. You weren't on your phone were you?”

You shift in your seat, biting your lip to suppress a grin at Tyler’s awkwardness. He looks over at you for a split second, searching for inspiration, then takes a deep breath, his confidence wavering slightly.

“Honestly, I was just trying to outrun the storm,” he continues, though it sounds more like a half-hearted excuse than a real explanation. “I thought I could make it to the motel before it hit.”

The officer studies him, and you can sense the moment he sees through the facade. “You realize that speeding is dangerous, especially in this weather?”

Tyler nods, his expression earnest. “I know, I know. I didn’t mean to—I just got caught up in the moment. This one here’s a little afraid of storms. I was just trying to get her back to the hotel, and I didn’t realize how fast I was going.”

There’s a slight pause as the officer glances between Tyler and you. You can see the wheels turning in his mind as he assesses the situation, perhaps weighing whether to let Tyler off with a warning or to issue a ticket.

“Alright, hang tight for a minute,” the officer finally says, stepping back to his patrol car.

Tyler sinks back into his seat, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Well, that went better than expected,” he mutters, though the humor in his voice is overshadowed by the unease lingering in the air.

You watch him closely, noticing how the blush on his cheeks deepens as he tries to make light of the situation. “You could’ve just told him we were getting carried away in the truck,” you tease.

Tyler shoots you a look, half-grinning. “And risk getting us both in trouble? No thanks.”

A few tense minutes pass before the officer returns, a speeding ticket in hand. “Here you go, sir. Just drive a little more carefully next time,” he advises, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’re free to go.”

“Thank you, officer,” Tyler replies, his voice steady as he takes the ticket.

As Tyler pulls back onto the highway, the silence in the truck feels heavier than before. You notice the way his jaw is clenched tight, a contrast to the usual relaxed demeanor he carries. His grip on the steering wheel is firm, knuckles white against the red paint. You can sense the tension radiating from him, and it sends a flutter of nervous energy through you.

The muted sounds of the truck and the rhythmic thumping of rain against the windshield fill the air, amplifying the weight of the quiet. After several minutes of driving in silence, you decide it’s time to break the ice.

“Tyler, I—” you start, but he quickly shakes his head, cutting you off.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, though not unkindly, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

You bite your lip, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you pulled over. I’ll pay the speeding ticket, I promise.”

At this, Tyler finally glances at you, a flicker of something playful sparking in his eyes. “Oh, you think that’s all it’s going to take? Just paying the ticket and calling it a day?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends your heart racing.

“What do you mean?” you ask, eyebrows raised, your curiosity piqued.

His lips curl into a smirk, the corner of his mouth quirking up just enough to hint at his mischievous side. “Let’s just say I have a different kind of punishment in mind for you once we get back to the hotel.”

You feel a heat rising to your cheeks at his words. The implication hangs in the air, thick and electric. You squeeze your legs together, suddenly aware of how your body reacts to his playful threat.

“Oh, really?” you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rush of excitement coursing through you.

“Yeah, really.” He finally turns his head to look at you, and his gaze is intense, filled with a mix of confidence and something deeper. “I think you need a reminder about what happens when you play around like that while I’m driving.”

Your breath hitches slightly at the way he says it, each word laced with an underlying promise. The thought of being alone with him in the privacy of your motel room makes your heart race even faster. You can already imagine the way he might hold you, the playful banter turning into something much more heated.

“And what kind of reminder do you have in mind?” you challenge, a playful smile tugging at your lips, emboldened by the way he looks at you.

He chuckles softly, the tension in his jaw easing just a bit. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. Just know it won’t be easy for you,” he replies, the playful edge in his voice making your pulse quicken even more.

Tyler’s sudden turn off the highway a few minutes later takes you by surprise. You watch as he pulls into a quiet rest stop, the lot deserted and shadowed under a dim streetlight. The familiar rumble of his truck’s engine fades as he shifts into park. His eyes remain fixed ahead for a moment, his jaw tense, but when he glances at you, there’s a spark there—a confident glint that’s all Tyler.

The sound of his belt coming undone pulls your attention fully to him. As he unzips his jeans and reaches down, revealing just how affected he is, your breath catches. This is a side of Tyler you've never seen quite like this. His usual easygoing confidence has morphed into something bolder, more assertive, and it sends a thrill straight through you.

“Shorts off,” he says, his voice a low command, his gaze intense as he meets your eyes. “Then get your pretty little ass over here. I've decided I don't want to wait.”

You feel your face start to turn red, taken aback by his tone but undeniably drawn in by it. He’s never been this forward, and it leaves you momentarily stunned. But then he raises an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to his lap, leaving no room for misinterpretation. You glance around, the empty lot eerily still and quiet, but the thrill of the situation overrides any hesitation.

Heart racing, you pop the button on your denim shorts, sliding them down your legs. Climbing over the console, you’re careful around the equipment scattered between you and Tyler, a reminder of the storm-chasing gear piled up in his truck. Finally, you settle onto his lap, your legs straddling him as his hands come to rest on your hips, grounding you there with a firm, possessive grip.

There’s a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, and in that moment, Tyler’s gaze alone makes you feel as if you’re his entire world. The energy between you is electric, leaving no doubt that he’s completely in control—and you’re exactly where you want to be.

The atmosphere in the truck has completely shifted as Tyler leans his seat back to make a little more room, his grip firm on your hips, guiding you over him with steady, unyielding confidence.

Your pulse is racing as you straddle him, trying to ignore the thrill of being in such an exposed place. The dark, quiet lot around you seems to fade, leaving just you and Tyler in the cocoon of his truck.

As you sink down onto Tyler, his hands grip your hips with a possessiveness that sends a shiver through you. The initial stretch is intense, leaving you breathless, but Tyler doesn’t give you long to adjust. He bucks his hips up, pressing you fully against him, your bodies flush as he draws you into a rhythm that’s all-consuming. His arms wrap around your back, holding you close, making it feel like you’re the only two people in the world despite the thrill of the open parking lot.

Every movement becomes a test of restraint as his hands guide your hips, the friction pushing you closer to the edge. The weight of his body beneath you, the warmth of his skin, the scent of his cologne—it all heightens the intensity, and soon, your breaths are mingling, matching in urgency.

Tyler’s mouth finds the shell of your ear, and you hear his low, husky whisper, laced with a mix of adoration and authority. “You’re not allowed to finish until we’re back at the motel, you understand?” He murmurs, his voice firm. The promise of “punishment” hangs in the air, thickening the tension between you.

A thrill of rebellion flares up, daring you to ignore his words, but you catch his gaze, steady and knowing. Tyler’s eyes are locked on you, as if he’s memorizing every reaction, every gasp. 

He knows every inch of your body, every telltale sign of your nearing climax, and with every arch of your hips, he can sense your resolve slipping.

You feel yourself teetering right on the edge, one or two more movements of your hips and you know you could get yourself there, but is it worth the punishment that would come with it?

His mouth is close to your ear, his breath hot and unsteady. “Don’t even think about it,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, as he senses your resolve wavering. “Not until we’re back at the motel. Remember?���

A shiver runs through you, and it’s taking everything in you to keep from crossing the line, but the look on his face—equal parts teasing and commanding—keeps you hanging on. Tyler keeps up the rhythm, each movement an expert test of your self-control. The whole situation has you electrified, both daring and savoring the challenge he's given you.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, his gaze unwavering. “Good girl,” he whispers approvingly, and the praise sends another shiver down your spine. 

Your eyes catch the faint glint of headlights in the distance, and your heart skips as you realize they're moving closer, aimed right at the rest stop.

You lean in, whispering urgently to Tyler, “Someone’s coming.”

Instead of slowing down or pulling back, Tyler’s grip tightens around your waist, his hands pressing you firmly against him as his eyes meet yours with a mischievous glint. “Then you’d better get me there fast,” he murmurs, voice dark and steady, daring you to rise to the challenge.

His hips thrust up, driving into you with an intensity that makes your head fall back, a loud, breathy moan slipping from your lips before you can stop it. You can feel him everywhere, his hands firm on your skin, his chest rising and falling under yours as the rhythm between you builds to a dizzying pace.

The headlights draw nearer, their beams glinting off the side mirrors, and with a low, guttural groan, Tyler buries himself deep, his entire body tensing beneath you. A shudder runs through him as he lets go, filling you completely, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. You feel him press his lips to your forehead as his hand starts to rub your back.

You carefully shift back over to the passenger seat, your cheeks flushed and your legs shaky, feeling the warmth of Tyler's release start to slip out, dampening your underwear. You quickly tug your shorts back on, fingers fumbling as you catch your breath. Glancing over, you see Tyler, his own breathing just settling, as he casually tucks himself back in, zipping his jeans and securing his belt as though nothing happened.

Once he’s ready, he flashes you a satisfied grin, throwing the truck back into gear and pulling out onto the highway, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips as you lean back in the seat, finally feeling your pulse slow.

“Am I forgiven yet?” you ask, your voice still a little breathless.

Tyler’s eyes flick over to you, his smirk deepening. “Forgiven?” He chuckles softly. “Sweetheart, that wasn’t punishment,” he says, reaching over to squeeze your thigh. “That was just the warm-up. You’ll get your real punishment when we get back to the motel.”

The anticipation makes you shiver, and you can’t help but squeeze your legs together, bracing for what’s to come.

[alotofpockets]

Not scared | Mary Earps x Reader

Where Mary isn't a fan of horror, but you love a good horror game

A/n: This was requested with reader playing FNAF, which I have never played. So, if the little game play I wrote is wrong, blame Google :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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Horror was your go to genre. Movies, shows, games, if it involved horror you would check it out. Your girlfriend never liked horror, though she tried for you. She had watched a few horror movies with you at the start of your relationship, but she ended up crawling into your side for comfort and closing her eyes most of the movie. Not that you minded of course. Horror wasn't for everyone, but she tried for you and that was enough for you.

When you started living together, you decided that you would watch and play your horror stuff when Mary was out of the house. So, on your days off while Mary would be training, you were often found watching a horror movie or playing a horror game.

Your latest obsession was Five Nights at Freddy’s. The only game you had been playing for weeks. Just when you started the game up for the day, you heard rain drops hitting the window. “Perfect.” You thought, the rougher the weather outside, the more intense anything horror was.

The rain had started out as a slight drizzle, but quickly escalated into a full rainstorm. The rain came pouring down and hitting your window loudly. You were loving it in combination with your game, but you hoped for your girlfriend that they would be able to train indoors today.

That thought was quickly answered as a soaking wet Mary walked through the front door of your apartment. “Oh love.” You instantly paused your game and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel for her. 

“I take it you weren't training inside then?” She gratefully took the towel you handed her and dried off her face. “They were doing some construction in the gym today, so we kept training outside. The weather update changed and warned of an approaching thunderstorm, so they sent us home just to stay on the safe side.”

Before Mary was able to take her shoes off, a loud clash of thunder sounded outside. “Well, there it is.” You joked. “I’m glad that you are safely back inside.” Mary smiled, grateful as well. She looked over to the tv, “Go continue your game, I'm gonna take a hot shower to warm up a bit.” She pecked your lips before she rushed to the bathroom. After you quickly dried up the water drops that Mary left in her trail, you plopped back down on the couch.

The intensity of the game quickly pulled you back in, and you didn’t even hear your girlfriend approaching. The moment you saw movement in your peripheral vision, you jumped up, making the both of you laugh. “Now you know how I always feel.” Mary said with a big grin on her face.

You went to close off the game, but Mary stopped you. “You can keep playing.” You thought it was kind of Mary to let you keep playing even if the game scared her, but you had also decided that you wouldn’t bother her with horror stuff, not wanting her to be scared. “Are you sure? I don't mind turning it off.” She nodded, “Yeah, just because my plans changed, doesn't mean yours should too.” She sat down beside you and watched you play. 

Your focus returned to your game where the dim flickering lights didn't help much to lighten up the security office your character was sitting in. The comfortable sound of a low humming fan in the background filled your surroundings. But then a loud screech, followed by mechanical laughter filled your living room. Mary, who had been fine up until now, quickly moved closer to you and hid her face into your shoulder, just like with the movies in the early days of your relationship. You smile at the familiar feeling of her tight hold on your arm, and the way she slowly peeked over your shoulder from time to time.

The sudden change in the sound made you check the security cameras, only to catch Chica’s unsettling grin spreading over the screen. The moment it flashed on the screen, you felt Mary getting scared as she jumped up a little.

“Darling, I can turn it off.” Mary sat up and shook her head. “No no, keep playing. I'm not scared.” You chuckled of course she wasn't. You pressed play again and the eerie scene continued. Mary really tried to be brave and continued to watch by peeking over your shoulder from time to time.

As the security footage didn’t help much, because Chica filled the screen, you stepped away from the footage again. The moment you did that the lights that were once still flickering, turned off completely. No more shadows, only the mechanical noises getting closer and closer. The suspense was building up and before something could happen in the game, the sound of a loud thunder filled your home.

Mary jumped up and screamed at the top of her lungs. You chuckle, “Not scared, huh?” You pause the game once again. This time you put the controller to the side and bring your girlfriend in for a hug. As funny as it was to see her react this way, you also didn’t want her to be scared. 

“Alright, how do you feel about a comedy movie?” Mary clung to your side, her heart still beating rapidly. “I don't want to keep you from your game.” You thought it was sweet, but also you weren't going to frighten your girlfriend just to play a game. “And I don't want you to be scared, so we're going to do something together that we both like.”

Mary seemed at peace with that and let you save your game and open up Netflix. You scrolled through the comedy section together until you found a movie you both wanted to see.

The thunder kept rolling around and lightning flashes kept lighting up the room, but the comedy on the tv made it a little less scary. Still Mary was cuddled up to your side, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! 💗

[s-soulwriter]

Writing Angsty Scenes Without Making Them Cringe

Alright, so we all love a good angsty moment, right? That scene where everything feels like it's falling apart, emotions are running high, and your character's world is just burning around them. But… writing those scenes without slipping into "oh no, not this again" territory? Yeah, it can be tricky.

Angst is powerful, no doubt, but it can get cringey fast if you’re not careful. So, how do you make your readers feel the hurt without rolling their eyes at the drama? Here are some thoughts (because we’ve all been there)

1. Keep It Real No one—and I mean no one—has perfectly poetic, life-altering thoughts while they’re in the middle of an emotional meltdown. If your character’s going through it, make sure their reactions feel raw, maybe even messy. Show us their confusion, anger, and fear in a way that makes sense for them. Don’t just throw in a monologue about the meaning of life or have them collapse in a rainstorm. (Unless it’s really necessary. Then, okay, fine, but be careful!)

2. The Little Details Hit Harder Sometimes, it’s the small, unexpected details that pack the biggest punch. Instead of a dramatic sobbing fit, maybe your character’s hands shake as they try to make a cup of tea or they notice a tiny crack in the wall that they never noticed before because they’re spiraling. It’s those little, relatable moments that make the angst feel real, not overdone.

3. Embrace the Quiet Moments It doesn’t always have to be yelling or crying to show that your character is struggling. Silence can be loud. Sometimes it’s the things unsaid that carry the most weight. Maybe your character withdraws, or they’re stuck staring at the ceiling for hours. A pause in the conversation, a long sigh, or a blank stare can be just as gut-wrenching as full-on breakdowns.

4. Avoid the Obvious Clichés (If You Can) Okay, this one’s a bit tricky. It’s not that you can’t ever have rain scenes or broken mirrors (I see you, “symbolism”), but if you’re gonna go there, give it a twist. Maybe instead of staring out a window during a storm, they’re in a brightly lit, overly cheerful room that just doesn’t match how they’re feeling. Play with contrasts. Make the environment work against their mood rather than mirroring it perfectly.

5. Let the Angst Breathe Don’t feel like you need to dump all the angst in one scene. Let it stretch out a bit. Give your characters space to process (or fail to process) over time. A lot of times, readers will feel more for a character who’s quietly unraveling over several chapters than one who explodes all at once. It makes the eventual breakdown hit harder when it does happen.

6. People Are Weird When They’re Hurting They joke at the wrong times. They say things they don’t mean. They shut people out, or they get way too clingy. Don’t be afraid to make your characters react in unexpected or contradictory ways—people do that when they’re feeling too much. Let your characters be complicated, because real people are.

7. Subtle Can Be Stronger Not every angsty scene needs a screaming match or someone running away dramatically. Sometimes, a single line of dialogue or a character’s slight change in expression can hit like a freight train. Try letting things simmer. Hold back when it feels like you should go big, and you might surprise yourself (and your readers) with how much more intense it feels.

[voxslays]

Singing in the Rain

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which, during a rainstorm, you have no choice but to huddle under a bus sign and wait for it to pass…until your fiancé Vox comes to their rescue.

You were standing in the pouring rain. Only half an hour ago, you had left the Vee’s tower to go shopping for an anniversary gift for Vox, your fiancé. You had forgotten an umbrella, and were forced to take cover from the heavy downpour under a bus sign. The streets were deserted, sinners opting to stay indoors rather than deal with the hellish storm. A smart decision. Instantaneously, you see a figure running across the street, towards you. Should you run? Probably, yet you decided to stay. You could always fight the demon off. Right? As the figure got closer, you noticed a flickering blue screen; Vox. 

“Vox?” You yell out, cupping your hands together. “What are you doing out in this rain?! You’ll catch a cold!” He hisses, pulling you close, his head flickering from the torrent of water. “I was trying to wait it out. What are you doing here?” Vox rolls his eyes, uncrossing his previously crossed arms. “Looking for you, obviously. Now come on, let’s get out of this rain before you turn into a drowned rat.” You grab his hand, as he takes off his jacket, holding it over both of your heads. He leads you down the empty street, his expensive shoes splashing in the puddles. After a few moments, he stops and turns to face you. “You know, it's moments like these that I wish I could just...escape. Leave everything behind.” His eyes look distant, almost haunted.

“What do you mean?” You ask with wide eyes. “All the expectations, the pressures of being me. Sometimes I just want to be a normal person. No fame, no fortune, no power. Just you and me.” His gaze softens as he looks at you, his hand reaching up to gently wipe rainwater from your face. “What about Voxtek? Or the Vees? You spent years to get where you are!” You say, thinking of his career. “I know and I wouldn't trade it for the world. But sometimes, I wish I could have both. The power, the success, and you.” He pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist. “I love you, you know.” He murmurs softly, his breath warm against your ear. “And I promise, I'll make it up to you. For all the times I've been too busy, too distracted. I promise.”

“Vox it’s okay, I understand-“ Vox interrupts you, gently pressing a finger to your lips while his eyes blaze with intensity. “No, it's not okay. I've taken you for granted far too often.” He takes your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Wise men say~” He sings in a gentle, low croon. “Only fools rush in~” He pauses, his gaze burning into yours. “But I can’t help~” You join in, your voices singing together in harmony. “Falling in love with you~” Vox gently grabs your hands, and holds them in his. “Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?~” Vox twirls you around in the middle of the street, unafraid of the hellish landscape that surrounds. “If I can’t help…falling in love with you~”

He pulls you close, his hands resting on your lower back. The rain has almost completely stopped, the sound of your voices echoing through the empty street. “For I can’t help~” He sings softly, his eyes locked onto yours. “Falling in love with you~” The two of you splash through puddles as you dance through the damp and dimly illuminated streets. ​​“Like a river flows, surely to the sea~” He spins you out, then back in, holding you close. “Darling, so it goes~” His voice is low and smooth, filled with emotion. “Some things are meant to be~” He dips you dramatically, his screen only inches from your face. 

“Take my hand~” Your eyes are filled with nothing but the loving gaze you hold for Vox, while you gently hold out your hand. His hand intertwines with yours, his other hand on your back, pulling you up slowly. His voice is barely a whisper. “Take my whole life too~ For I can’t help~” His head glitches briefly, his eyes filled with raw emotion. “Falling in love with you.” You finish together, embracing eachother in a loving kiss. As you break the kiss, Vox looks at you with a genuine, loving smile.  “I love you so much,” He whispers, his voice shaking. “More than anything in this world.” He pulls you into another hug, holding you tightly against his chest. “Never leave me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He buries his face in your neck, his body relaxing against yours. “Good.” He murmurs softly. “Because I couldn't bear to lose you.” He takes a deep breath, shuddering at the thought as his arms tighten around you. “Let's go home.” You hold his hand, as you get into the back of his limo. The car starts, as the chauffeur drives through the hellish red landscape of the pride ring. He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you close. “I meant what I said earlier, okay? I'm going to make it up to you. All those missed anniversaries, birthdays...” He sighs, nuzzling his face against your shoulder.

“You make it up to me everyday.” You coo, kissing the corner of his screen. You look out the window, at the dirty streets of hell, before looking back up at him. He kisses your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “I know...but I will do more. I promise.” He murmurs softly, his hands gently caressing your body, as you gently lean into him. “I love you.” He coos, rubbing circles on your arm as you lean into him. “I love you too.” You smile.