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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 4 months ago

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Jealousy

Three times Jason gets jealous during dates and one time you do (Pre-established relationship) ~1.6k words

You're perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Jason's life has never been better since he's asked you to be his partner. (Okay, hush, you asked him, but he was getting there, he swears, he had this twelve step plan and everything. Tim was going to jump off a ledge while throwing rose petals. Rose petals!)

He can't find a single problem with how your relationship is going. Well, expect, how everyone else seems to want your attention you too.

The little Café you wanted to try is nice, really. The guy behind the counter that's been staring at you since you both got here? Not so nice. It's annoying, how the guys gaze seems to linger on your legs, your smile, the way you brush your hair back. It's a struggle to focus on your words– but not a struggle to watch the way your lips move when you talk.

The worker takes a step out from behind the counter.

Oh hell no.

Jason's on his feet and pulling out the chair next to you in an instant, between one word your pretty voice is saying and the next, he's sitting by your side with an arm draped around your shoulder.

He loses his train of thought when you smile, pleased, and raise an eyebrow.

"What's this for, Jason?"

"Wanted to hear you better." He says, or he thinks he says that. He's too busy watching the creep slink back behind the counter, satisfaction growing in his chest.

You laugh. (He thinks angels might descend from the sky when you do.) And go back to telling your story. It's much easier to listen this time. That's what he tells himself, at least until your thigh presses against his.

Gotham Zoo is actually really nice for, you know, Gotham. Bruce poured money into it before, but ever since Damian found out about it, he's practically ensured the place will run ethically and comfortably for the next 100 years. Which Jason thought was cool, but it's even cooler that he gets to watch his partner coo over the new petting zoo.

"Aw, Jason, look at the lambs! They're so soft. I wanna take one home." You sound giddy, eyes bright and smile wide. He can't quite pull his focus away from you to see which creature you're referring to.

"They're pretty cute." He responds instead. Not cuter than you, though.

"Could you imagine one for the apartment? They'd sleep in bed with us. It would be like cuddling a cloud." You say idly, fingers stoking the top of the animals head.

That makes him pause. How'd he cuddle you if there's some barn animal in the middle of the bed? There's no way he could get close enough to you if some pet you found cute was cuddled between you. He clears his throat. "Well, ah, I don't know how the landlord feels about lambs but you can always cuddle me? I'm– I could be soft?" Wow, okay. Not what he wanted to say. He cringes a little.

But you stand up, smiling brighter and gaze focused on him. That settles the feeling in the pit of his stomach. You curl your fingers with his and take his hand, pulling it to your face to kiss his knuckles. "You're my favorite thing to cuddle, you know."

Oh. "Huh. I mean, good." He stumbles out. No, his ears are definitely not feeling warm. And no, his heart isn't beating faster as he follows you towards the next enclosure. "I could wear wool, though? If you wanted?"

That makes you laugh. Eyes trailing to him with such fondness he nearly sinks to his knees. Until he sees the playfulness etched in your face. "I saw you petting those rabbits early. I could wear bunny ears? If you wanted?"

He chokes on air. You might be trying to kill him. His whole face feels as heated as his ears. "Wow. I– if you wanted?"

You giggle, pulling away to observe the next lucky animal that you see.

"Hey. Wait–" He says your name, voice a little pitched. "Did you want–?" You only wink at him. That shuts him. And if he spends the rest of the date a little distracted, well, you seem proud that you managed to make him so flustered.

Your coworker has been talking to you for thirteen minutes and fourty-seven seconds. Jason knows this because he's been watching the clock since he got here. It happens more often than not, him walking you home from work. He shows up fifteen minutes early because he knows you'll slip out given the chance. Something about not taking up too much of his time. Don't you know you're the only one he wants to spend his time with?

Jason crosses his arms, eyes narrowing at your coworker. Three inches. That's the amount of space your coworker has moved closer to you since he's gotten here. Not respectable at all. Doesn't he know you're with Jason? Maybe he should have stopped into that jewelry store he was eyeing earlier. And called Tim to put in an order for rose petals.

Your coworker shifts another inch towards you. And that's it. Your shift has thirty-five seconds left and that's exactly the amount of time it takes for him to be by your side. His arm slips around your waist comfortably, like it belongs there, because it does. He kisses your cheek and lets his gaze settle on your coworker. And if his face is a little more threatening than usual, he definitely isn't trying to intimidate your coworker. (Yes, he is.)

"Ready to go home, sweetheart?" He drawls, body relaxed like he isn't torn between showing your coworker exactly who you're dating and pushing down the jumble of emotion in his throat. "I was thinking take out for dinner?"

You relax into his side. Oh. You relaxed into his side and you're smiling at him. It evens out the pounding in his heart he didn't even realize was happening. The tension threatening to take over his shoulders disappears like it never existed.

"Yeah, Jason, I'm ready. I missed you. Just let me clock out." You pull away– 'no' he starts to think– and then you take his hand, pulling him along with you.

"I missed you too." He answers, and you don't quite see the smug grin he sends over his shoulder to your coworker.

Jason's perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Willing to try new things. A total package. That's something you know about your boyfriend. So when he agreed to go dancing with you at Gothams newest club, you were excited. A whole night spent enjoying time with your boyfriend. And you both get to dress up a little. You feel hot, and he definitely looks hot. You didn't think that'd be an issue. But, it is. Because you can see your boyfriend getting held up by two of the prettiest girls you've ever seen.

He's holding two drinks, one for himself and one he went to get for you. It soothes the tightness in your throat that he does not look thrilled to be talking to them. The softness he has when he's with you gone, replaced with poorly masked annoyance.

Any comfort you were feeling from the look on his face disappears when one of the girls puts her hand on his arm, giggling like he's said the funniest thing in the world. Absolutely not. You're walking over to them before Jason even has time to shrug her hand from his arm.

"Hey, honey." You say, voice sweet and sugary as you take one of the drinks from his hand, hooking your arm through his and tucking yourself against him. "Everything okay?"

It makes your heart flutter everytime, the way his entire face seems to change when he looks at you. "Hey, baby. Yeah. Everything's okay. Didn't mean to take so long. Were you worried?" He asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair.

The girls seem to deflate at how his complete attention is on you, how he instinctively shifts until you're pressed flushed against his side, two pieces of a whole. You have to force back the pride that threatens to glint in your eyes. "Not worried. I just was getting bored without you."

Neither of you really look over at the girls when they murmur something about catching up with their friends, but Jason manages a polite nod. Once they're gone, his grin widens, eyes teasing. "You were jealous. You called me honey."

You gasp in mock offense, yes, honey isn't the first term of endearment you jump to, but it's a perfectly valid word for him. "Jealous? Jealous that my tall, dark, sweet, and handsome boyfriend was getting hit on?"

He laughs, you think you might have swooned in a different time. "C'mon, pretty. Give me this. I saw you watching."

You can't help but smile at him and wonder, vaugley, if he knows you'd give him anything he asked of you. "Yeah, yeah. I was a little jealous. But, don't think I don't notice when you get jealous. Now, come dance with me. I like this song."

Now it's his turn to gasp, faux denial on his face. "I have never, not once in my life, been jealous."

You roll your eyes, playful and light as you pull him along to the dance floor. "Alright, lover boy. Because you're definitely not the reason my coworker wouldn't talk to me for a week."

He looks pleased at that. "He didn't?"

You raise yourself on your toes, kissing his cheek and leaving a smudge of lipstick. Neither of you move to wipe it off. "Mm. No. He didn't."

"Nice." He mumbles, unhooking your arms so he can hold your waist as you reach the dance floor. "I do get jealous too, though, sometimes."

Laughing, you find the beat of the music together and your world centers on him, just how his centers on you. "I know."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #3 and 1 #bf!jason todd

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 months ago

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Cooler Heads Will Prevail

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: it's too hot to do anything in the States. Except apparently write Aemond x Reader smut about how it's too hot.

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, sex outdoors, aemond speaking High Valyrian cause it's sexy, Vhagar being sassy in the background.

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“Gods how can you stand to wear that?”

You felt ten times hotter just looking at your husband, dressed in his traditional black & leathers, as he sat next to you while you baked in this heat. Even with all the windows and curtains open, dressed in the thinnest dress that modesty could cling to, and servants fanning you both like Dornish aristocracy, you still felt like you were melting.

“It is all a matter of perspective, my dear wife.” Aemond replied. Not looking up from his book. “And will power.”

You groan and drop your own book, spreading out as far as your limbs would go on the chaise. You despised these hot summers. Everything was hot. Everything you touched, including yourself, was sticky. You felt like every breath was drawing in more hot air, which in turn made you hotter, and considerably cranky. It was too hot to do anything.

Aemond glanced up at you with his good eye, then closed his books. The servants scatter when the prince stood. Taking away what little precious, if fruitless, relief you had. “Are you really that miserable?” He asked, leaning over you with one arm pressed against the back of the chaise.

“Just look at me.”

“I am.” His mouth coiled into a smirk as he leaned further down to kiss you.

But you turn your head away with an unsatisfied huff. “It’s too hot.” Though you loved Aemond unconditionally, apparently it had its limits. He’d have to wait until the sun went down, at the very least, before you would consider touching him.

The prince huffed. “Fine. Get up.”

You didn’t have time to ask Aemond why before he was grabbing your hand and hoisting you to your feet. Dragging you along behind him as you tried to keep up with his impressive gait thanks to those long legs.

Your protests & questions stopped halfway through your journey, and Aemond finally let your hand go once the two of you reached the Dragonpit. Vhagar’s indominable frame taking up most of the space a lotted to her as she coolly acknowledged her rider then settled back down. “What are we doing here?”

“Leaving the city.” Aemond was already mounting Vhagar. Settled into her saddle before he reached out to you with his hand.

You often dreamed of being a dragon rider. To be up in the skies. To command giants. But you didn’t have the blood for it. Instead, you just admired them from afar. “I thought you said Vhagar didn’t like secondary riders.”

“Vhagar does not like any rider but me.” He clarified. “But she will not harm you. Trust me.”

You did trust Aemond. Still, you glance over to Vhagar, looking into her giant eye for permission, who looked back at you for a long moment before she blinked with her inner lid and turned her gaze from you. You took that as a yes and grabbed Aemond’s hand.

He hoisted you up into the saddle with ease. Seating you in front of him. His legs on either side of you as he fastened you both to the harness before taking the reins. “sōvēs Vhagar.”

The dragon rose from her seat. Seeming annoyed about it, but you couldn’t be sure. She took three long strides before her wings were aloft and you were up in the air. You close your eyes tight. Gripping Aemon’s thighs on either side as you felt your stomach try to drop all the way back to the ground. “Open your eyes.” Aemond’s voice brushed against your ear, louder than the rushing air around you. You do as he says. With one at first, then opening both to see the beautiful bright sky around you and white, fluffy clouds. It was breath taking.

You aren’t brave enough to look down, but after a while Aemond shouted, “tegot Vhagar,” and the dragon circled around a patch of Earth before gracefully hurling itself towards it.

When you landed Aemond undid your bindings and jumped down. He held his arms out towards you, waiting for you to jump, and easily caught you when you fell into his open arms. “Where are we Aemond?”

The prince shrugged, “somewhere North.” That was all he said before he stalked off into the woods past the clearing.

You look around and admire the beauty of the small forest, before you follow after your husband. Vhagar seemed fine on her own to resume her nap while you both went on your walk to wherever Aemond was going. “Aemond, what are we doing here?”

“You said you were hot.” He told you. In a tone that implied ‘we just talked about this’ as he cut through the path.

“Yes. But why are we here?” It was significantly cooler, but still summer. The balminess of the city had been replaced with the natural humidity of the trees. One evil for a lesser one.

Aemond didn’t answer this time and instead pushed past the last of the greenery to reveal a second clearing. Sun dappled, with trees and flowers circling a natural freshwater pond, in a perfect idyllic scene. “Gods…It’s beautiful.”

“We did not come all this way just to look at it.”

You turn to Aemond to see him already unbuttoning his jerkin. “You cannot be serious.” Apparently, he was, as he was already tossing his jerkin aside and pulling off his under tunic. “Aemond?? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Exactly. No one will find us.” His belt, boots, and pants quickly made it into the pile. His small clothes next. Then finally his eye patch. “Are you coming or not?” You stare at Aemond, a little slack jawed, as he stood there completely naked. As if you were the crazy one for not joining him.

Fingers carefully come up to your lacings. Fumbling with the strings as your embarrassment makes the digits unable to cooperate properly. Aemond was right, no one would see you. But this was still the first time you had been naked ‘in public’. Ladies did not go around the world in the nude. Although, apparently, a Targaryen’s woman did.

Aemond grinned as he watched you let loose your dress, then walked backwards a few paces before he turned and walked over to one of the rocks. Standing on it, like some Valyrian statue, before he jumped in. You were not nearly as brave, and shyly stepped into the water from its calm shore with your hands protecting your modesty.

The water was like ice on your overheated skin, but it felt so good! You let out a sigh and relax. Sinking neck deep into the water as you pulled your knees to your chest to float. “Feeling better?” You turn to look at Aemond as he swam up to you. His long hair floating behind him like a silver net. Looking more triton than dragon at the moment. You offer him a soft smile and nod.

The prince smiled back. Then he floated to his center before he stood, able to reach the bottom and have the water just barely brush past his navel. “Can I kiss you now?”

You looked up at Aemond, who was looking back down at you, waiting for an answer. Your smile broadens and you release your knees to stand on your own feet as well. The water just barely kissing your breasts in comparison. “Yes Aemond, you can kiss me.”

He looked so pleased. As if all this effort was worth it as he took your chin in his fingers to tilt your lips to his. You moan at the first contact of his tongue against yours. Hells…how long had it been since you kissed him properly.

You had not been joking when you said it was too hot to do anything. That included laying with your husband. Though you shared the same bed, the most you had done for the past weeks was brief kisses & touches before shunting off to your separate corners of the mattress. Desperate not to add anymore heat to your person.

Now that you were cooled off, a renewed heat was swelling up inside you. “Aemond…”

The man in question pulled back just a hair’s breadth to look at you. The hand once tilting up your chin now brushing water droplets from your cheek. “I have missed you, issa jorrāelagon.”

“I know.” And you felt guilty for that. “I’ve missed you too.” Together seperately had been the way things had been with this heat. But now you were somewhere cool, calm, and secluded with your husband.

You latch on to Aemond like a drowning man. His body your life raft. His kiss your air. He pulled you in with equal fervor and you felt his longing press against your belly. Hot and hard, despite the cold water. “Aemond…” You gasp again. Intentionally brushing against him to feel more of his manhood and eager to have not against your belly but inside it. “Please…”

The prince growled and kissed you again. His teeth nipping possessively at your lips this time, before he pulled you into his arms and wrapped your legs around him. Carrying you out of the water with ease and laying you on the soft grass that would be your marriage bed for the afternoon.

Aemond continued to kiss you. Letting you go for a moment before peppering your lips, face, and neck with more kisses. As if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next with you. “You should be like this at all times.”

“Underneath you?” You respond cheekily.

“Naked.” He corrected. Your head tipping back as his arm slipped betwixt you and his fingers began toying with your sex. “You wouldn’t be so hot. And we would no longer have to deal with those ridiculous laces.”

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate such a ‘casual’ manner of dress at court.” You gasp sharply as two of Aemond’s fingers suddenly slipped inside you. Clearly a diversion in the conversation as he doesn’t want to talk about his mother right now.

“Hmmm…it is probably for the best. I’d gouge out the eye of any man who would look at you besides me. Then I would no longer be unique.”

“Certainly less fashionable.” Another sharp gasp escapes you as Aemond’s fingers curled up inside you against that spot that made you see stars. Silently telling you that if you didn’t stop with the cheek you were going to get it. ‘Good’ you thought.

His fingers continued to work you open as his mouth swallowed your cries. “Aemond!” You shouted when his thumb brushed against your pearl. Pushing at his shoulders while your legs shook at the intense feeling, but he wouldn’t stop. He let you go long enough to let your climax cry come out clearly. Loud and pure. Birds fluttering off in the distance that were startled by the sound.

“You’re so beautiful when you quake for me.”

“Only you.”

Your hand came up to stroke his face. Hard lines. Soft expression. Your fingertip brushes against just the end of his scar before trailing down to flick his bottom lip. Red and swollen from your kissing. Vibrant against his cool, alabaster skin. Perfect.

“Make me quake for you again my love.” Your legs splayed wide for him. Making space for him and his cock in your drooling cunt.

Aemond doesn’t have to be told anything twice and he descended on you. Lining up his cock, pushing it inside you with coiled control just waiting to snap, waiting there until you were ready. You let him know you were ready by jutting your hips a bit. Your prince looking at your face for a moment to make sure before that coiled control snapped clean.

The two of you rut in the forest like animals. Grunting and moaning and the wet sound of slapping skin. Aemond spread your legs wider for him. Letting him thrust harder and deeper into you. Your head fell back against the damp grass. The sweet smell mixed with your sweat making you dizzy while the sharp climb towards a second climax made you lightheaded.

You will your eyes open to look at Aemond. His eye fixed only on you. Almost completely black like the stories portrayed him. Black enough that it looked as though it had bled into his sapphire. But this was not the eyes of a monster, but a beast. Your beast. Your one and only, as this look as just for you.

“A-Aemond!” You shout again. Fingers clenched in his wet tresses. Whole body shaking around him this time. Aemond’s teeth clenched to the point they look like they might break before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His own hips stuttered as his warmth filled you up.

The two of you laid there for a moment. Catching your breath. Sated in one another until Aemond likely feels he’s too heavy for you and rolls off you to the side. “We should head back.”

You turn your head to look at him. Wounded. Did it have to be right now? “The sun will be setting soon. It will not be as hot upon our return.”

You look back up at the sky and indeed see the shadows had gotten longer since your arrival. “Must we?”

Aemond chuckled at your plea. Rolling back over to your side to coil his body around you like a serpent. Head on your shoulder. You know he had missed this almost as much as the other. “Not right now.” He agreed. “But soon. We can come back whenever you’d like though.”

“Tomorrow?” He laughed again.

“Whenever you’d like.”

The two of you bask in the moment and beautiful scenery for a little while longer. Enjoying the cool and the quite before you had to return to the hot and the mayhem. You dress in silence. Then Aemond walked you both back down the path towards his dragon. Vhagar not seeming to notice one way or the other that you’ve been gone.

The heat hits you instantly once you break the perimeter of the city. Cooler than before but still sweltering. “I’m going to take a cool bath before bed.” You tell your prince as he gave his dragon a few goodbye pet before he left her for the day. “Care to join me?”

Only one thing could pull Aemond’s attention away from his dragon, and he turned to look over his shoulder at you with a smug grin. “Missing me already, issa jorrāelagon.”

“Oh yes.” You playfully agree as you walk backwards when Aemond came close. “I don’t know. Something about dragon riding puts me in the mood for….‘dragon riding’.”

The true rider grinned and closed the gap between you with quick ease. “Why do you think I seem never to want to keep my hands off you?” He pulled you in for a new kiss. Passionate, yes, but not nearly as fierce as before. You were back in the walls. Back in your cages. You had to be restrained lest other people talked. Because gods forbid a man & a wife actually fancied each other. He let you go and it was your turn to lead Aemond by the hand.

The weather was hot. But summer would eventually break. By the time winter came you intended to know all sorts of new ways to keep warm.

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frogstappen · 12 days ago

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𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧, 𝐮𝐬

best friend!max verstappen x reader / 2.4k

max keeps up your friendly tradition at the us grand prix.

⚠️: friends with a little something more on the horizon. one teeny mention of throwing up in a sleeping bag. cutesy, fluffy, best pal max.

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ

The world is alive with a kick only found in Austin.

Cowboy hats and cowgirl boots; star-spangled everything and a roaring reception fit for rock ‘n roll stars. Bloodthirst donned in a bolo tie and winning smile.

You swipe through your camera roll, pinching each photo to read the gimmicky banners and count the bullhorn gestures. Giggling when you spot a grown man with a sign addressed to Lewis: I called in sick to watch you race.

Max glances over his shoulder. “What’s so funny?”

You turn your phone.

He squints at the screen, huffing a laugh, then scrolls through some more. “They love and hate with the same passion. It’s actually kind of scary.”

“I love it here.”

You push off the couch and wander over to the window.

The sky is a brilliant blue, dazzling even through the tinted glass. Striking Southern sunlight bounces off each motorhome in the paddock. The lot busies away, polos scurrying from building to building, VIP lanyards shielding their eyes from the sun to take it all in.

Max taps your shoulder with your phone and nods to the door. “C’mon. Time.”

He leads you outside, loosening his elbow to let you slip your arm through his. He turns heads and raises whispers – though none of it seems to bother him. It’s like he doesn’t even notice.

He’s already turning inward, already picturing the starting line behind his eyes. He’s thinking tactics and thinking strategies, making mental notes about turns twelve through fifteen; tire degradation and DRS and not saying fuck or shit or driving too close to the car marked 4.

His eyes lift only for a second. He frowns at some photographers up ahead and positions himself in front as you walk. His head ducks again, giving them little more than a winning shot of his Red Bull cap – and he takes your hand.

“Here,” he says, “We can dodge them.”

He cuts between ferns and life-size driver banners, speeding past crowded bistro sets. By the time they clock him – Was that Max Verstap–? – he’s already thin air.

Through one of the backdoors to the garages, Max pulls you down a darkened hallway.

You giggle, trying not to trip over his heels. Cooler, though not by much, you breathe a sigh of relief and rub the starry sunshine from your vision. When you pull your knuckles away from your eyes, you gasp.

Max halts.

“What?” he asks, twisting around. His hand stays locked in yours. “You okay?”

Your nose bumps against his shoulder as you crane to see properly through the sliver of an ajar door.

Behind a throng of serious faces in white shirts and headsets – a table. Three trophies, tall and slender, polished to perfection. Obnoxious, maybe a little �� but glamorous and gleaming all the same.

And right in front of them –

“Are those the podium caps?”

Max studies your face for a moment. A smile threatens the corner of his lips, but he fights it down. He follows your eye to the three hats.

He nods. “Looks like it.”

“Denim, Max. That’s so cool.”

“Well, y’know,” he sniffs, giving your hand a light tug, “It is Austin.”

“I don’t have a denim one. Yet.”

He shoots you a look more steel than blue. You don’t have to speak Max Verstappen to know exactly what it means.

You’ve been collecting his race caps – the rare designs, anyway – for as long as he’s been in Formula One. At home, there’s a whole corner of your closet dedicated strictly to Pirelli.

His very first winners’ cap sits proudly on the tallest hook, all the way to the Canadian maple leaf design that made you squeal when he presented it to you.

He knows the ones you’d like, the second he sees them. Eight years’ worth of victories, turned into something even more meaningful.

Granted, there have been a little fewer than normal lately – but sometimes, you like to pretend he’s in that cockpit aiming for first at least in part to see the smile on your face when he fits the cap on your head.

Still. He stares you down.

“I wouldn’t get too excited,” he says, walking on. “The car is shit, lately.”

“Language,” you hiss, grinning.

Max shakes his head. “I can still send you home, you know. The race hasn’t started yet.”

He’s only jesting – but annoying him is too much fun.

“Oh, you wouldn’t do that. I’m here for sympathy reasons, remember?”

He grunts in response.

Austin wasn’t meant to be on your list this year. It’s one of your favorite grands prix, that’s for sure, but you had planned to miss it this time around on account of the new guy you’d been seeing.

That is – until you called it quits last month.

It had only been a few months – three, if that – but the longer it went on, the more you noticed incompatibilities. Little things, like the way your schedules clashed, or the kinds of places you each liked to hang out.

He was a great guy, and he took it like a champ – which made the bruise sting a little…sharper.

Max let you wallow for three days. He spent a decent chunk of the month’s break after Singapore at your place; ordering you takeout and then refusing to let you pay, waking you up each morning to work out with him. You’d never admit it, but after a while, it got kinda fun.

Then, when it was time to get back to work, he invited you to Austin. You know being there will cheer you up, he said. And besides, I need my lucky charm.

So far – what with the denim Pirelli caps and the front-row qualifying result – he’s fast turning out to be right.

He pauses at the turn into the garage. “How are you, anyway? Feeling distracted?”

You smile, slumping against the wall opposite him. “Very. I forgot how hard this place goes.”

He nods, sipping from his bottle. He glances down the hall towards the echoes of photographers. “Sorry about the…” he waves a dismissive hand, “…Ever since Singapore, they…”

“You don’t think I’m used to it by now, three-time-world-champion?”

He curves his hand around the back of his neck, lips curling. “You wanna watch from the garage again, or upstairs?”

“Upstairs, please. I don’t need another 4D experience of you crashing.”

“Wasn’t exactly fun to me, either,” he says, nudging your arm. He lists directions, reminding you to stay behind the shrubbery to evade the cameras. He makes you swear you’ll text him once you’re seated.

“Do you want my pinkie, or is a blood oath more acceptable?”

“It’s a lot of different tracks, alright? Sometimes even I get lost.”

Your eyes narrow. Liar.

He smirks. “Okay, I don’t. But I also don’t stop to fucking stare at denim hats, so.”

“Go do your job, potty mouth. And drive safe.”

“Mhm.”

“I mean it, Max. Just – aim to finish in one piece.”

He pulls you in for a hug, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I’m aiming for a cap,” he says, and swings into the garage.

It’s Ferrari’s race from the opening lap. No other team gets a look-in.

Charles steals the lead from under Lando’s feet, propelling ahead with Carlos in tow to secure an easy one-two for the Prancing Horse. They hold fast the entire race and – though they are, in theory, two of your best friend’s current enemies – they nail it.

You know that, when you find each other later, Max will tell you the same. He’s never a sore loser when simply lovely racing is involved.

Fifty-six laps and five and a half kilometers later, you’re watching him on the podium.

Well. You’re watching your next collector’s item – on his head – on the podium.

Third place isn’t too shabby for a man perpetually fighting his machine – and even he looks relieved just to be up there. He glances down as the Monégasque national anthem plays, and tilts his head purposefully.

You grin up at him, eyebrows raised. I see it, you send telepathically. I’ve chosen its hook already.

Max is careful not to let it become too soaked during the champagne spraying. He ducks out of Charles’s path, aims his own at Carlos’s back. He’s the first to tip the bottle against his lips and drink, and the others quickly follow suit.

There’s probably a grilling waiting for him in the press tent. Was Norris’s five-second penalty just? How did the car feel during that battle? Do you see the rear-end of a McLaren when you close your eyes at night?

You take the opportunity while the paddock is still quiet to sneak back to his motorhome, falling back onto the double bed. There’s a flatscreen on the wall opposite you; a crystal vase of roses on the marble counter beneath.

Some days you have to remind yourself that, behind all the titles and trophies and treasure – he’s still the same kid who ate so much candy at your eighth birthday party that he threw up in his sleeping bag.

Behind all of it, he’s still Max. Your Max.

Says you can have a go at his racing simulator, then laughs while you fight with the controls. Says he’ll pick you up after a night out, then takes voice recordings of your drunken babbling to play back to your hungover self.

Says, He was a nice guy, but you’re going to be okay – and invites you to Austin to take your mind off it.

You’re watching some real estate show under eyes heavy with sleep when the motorhome door clicks open.

His shadow sways down the narrow trailer, and he materializes at the foot of the bed.

“Hello.”

You lift your head. “Hello, yourself.”

He takes your wrists and pulls you upright, scooping you in a strong hug. He’s soaked in sweat and champagne, race suit hanging from his hips, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway.

His hair is damp, cheeks flushed and heated. His stubble scrapes your skin. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck and sighs.

“Thinking of moving to Mexico?” he murmurs into your shoulder, turning to look at the screen.

“The remote was on the other side of the room. I’m tired.”

“Me, too,” he says. He pulls back.

You take his jaw in your hands. “You did so good,” you whisper, thumbs smoothing the lines his balaclava has left behind. “That battle with Lando – I thought – maybe –”

He scoffs, lazy smirk pulling across his face. “Nah. Light work.”

It warrants the knock you deal his bicep.

Max laughs. “Oh,” he says, and reaches behind his back. From the waistband of his suit, he pulls a slightly dented, very drenched third-place cap. He straightens out the material. “Took it off as soon as we got backstage. Didn’t want my hair to make it all sweaty.”

You take it from his hands delicately, grinning from ear to ear as you tilt it in the light. “It’s so fucking cool, Max.”

He hums. “Here.”

He handles it with the same care you did, for the sole reason that it means this much to you – and Max knows it. With a gentle smile, eyes flitting from yours to your lips, he places the cap over your head and straightens it into place.

“There,” he steps back, “You just won third place at Circuit of the Americas.”

You giggle, turning to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. “Oh my God, I look so goofy.”

“No you don’t,” Max replies, standing behind your reflection. “You suit it better than I do.”

There’s a beat – a moment, stood against his chest, eyes locked and hearts aligned. You lean back on your heels, and he perches his chin soft on your head.

His hands find your shoulders. “I’m gonna jump in the shower,” he says. “Do you want to head back to the hotel now, or –?”

You shake your head. “I’m good. I’ll wait for you.”

“’kay,” he whispers. He lingers, still scanning the sight before him. Hands still on your body, squeezing in time with your hammering heartbeat.

Probably taking in the oddity of the entire thing, the same way you are. The two of you framed in the mirror, no closer than you spend most days, and somehow – the closest you’ve ever felt him.

Your Max. Who once caught wind that you had a crush on one of the kids in class, and teased you all summer long for it. Who once gatecrashed your horror movie night with Victoria; burst out of the closet in a Ghostface mask, screaming bloody murder.

It’s exactly the kind of feeling you’d text him for advice on. Hey, what do you think about this? I had butterflies today, standing next to this guy.

Exactly the kind of thing that he’d reply with, Does he know you cry at animated movies?

Does he know you say good morning to the birds?

Does he know you burn pancakes anytime you try to make them?

Yes, you’d send. And he doesn’t mind any of it.

Max takes the visor of your cap between his fingers and turns it. “This way for when you’re feeling fancy,” he says, laughing at his own joke the way he always does.

You breathe a relieved laugh of your own. “Sure,” you reply, shaking that feeling free. You turn, hands light on his forearms. Your gaze climbs from his chest to his eyes.

“Thank you,” you whisper, staring into the oceanic home you’ve known since you were a kid. “I’m really glad I came. You, uh…I don’t know what I’d do without you, Max.”

He shrugs – never one to take a compliment without wrestling with it first. “’s not about me,” he replies, tapping your nose with his knuckle. He swallows, shifting between feet, before his chest fills with a deep breath. “Let me take you to dinner. As a thanks for coming, obviously.”

“You mean the hat isn’t my thanks?”

He shakes his head. “I can do better than a smelly denim hat.”

“I’ll bet you can, Verstappen.”

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #mv33 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula 1 #my writing #fic: austin us #f1blr #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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evilminji · 10 months ago

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You know what we don't see enough of?

Dramatic Ancient Of Space Summonings(TM).

Like? Full on, SHOCK AND AWE Dramatic. Behold for it is a GOD that you have called upon you, Dramatic. Swelling music and camera panning out, the works.

Like, it SHOULD? Be this panicked race against time. All terror and counting down the clock, like a nuke is about to blow under down town New York. Primal fear as... oh god... oh god they're too late. The Ritual(tm)! It's complete!

Green and starlight SURGING. Bursting up and up and UP. Like a pillar into the heavens. The earth rumbling. Things crashing to the floor. Ozone in the air. A grand display that just... seems to stop?

Ends in nothing more then a softly glowing circle, meant to supposedly contain the spirit.

It... failed?

The Cultists argue. Rage. The are too busy bickering to look around them. But you? You notice the breeze. Cool. Cooler then it had been just a moment before. And the quality of the light has changed. As... as though...

The stars...

Have...

Gotten?

Bri..ght..er?

The sky is full. And staring back.

He sees you. Eyes like moons. Glowing vast and an impossible green. An aurora borealis of white drifts around him. Stars, freckles upon his face. He is at once both transparent and perfectly solid. There and not there. Galaxies and nebula. Things beyond your comprehension.

Contained?

How could ANY man made circle EVER contain THAT? Something so VAST? So POWERFUL? Greater then planets and possibly older then time? You... you feel so small.

And it can see you.

Why have you called? Those eyes ask. For what reason did you disturb them? You are terrified. These idiots have dragged a God from their work for petty things, and unless you can talk and talk FAST? All of humanity might pay for that.

Just? Enough mortal sized Gods! Let them be LARGE you cowards! Make a magic user CRY today! A few world leaders soil themselves! Let Danny just Be Vibin in Space!

(Let Constantine Smash.)

(JOHN!)

(WHAT?! He's an ambitious man! Get of his back will you? A man can dream!)

@hypewinter @nerdpoe @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @dcxdpdabbles @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom

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mirx-xko-offical · 9 days ago

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giggling and kicking my feet about this Scenario!!

Yuu /reader say "You have beautiful eyes" and the character say "your kid may have the same"

Then a silent quiet....

Frankly, I find Leona/twin /Malleus and Lilia suitable for this scenario.

I’m going to cry- I had all of these already written down but then it never saved 😭 Anyways uhm, this is why you make sure that you save everything and don’t rely on autosave 🫶

as per usual, not proofread and probably won’t be for a while! This contains LEONA and MALLEUS! LILIA and maybe someone else will be in part 2 (open to ideas!) mainly because I can not think of any scenario for him right now!

prompt: ‘Your eyes are beautiful.’ ‘Well, your children could always have them.’ (I love this sm 💕)

The autumn breeze came across the both of you, yet not being bothersome but rather comforting. LEONA couldn’t deny that times like these, when the air was cooler compared to the autumn nights where he had lived, was rather a nice change. He had dragged asked you to join him out here on one of these colder evenings mainly because he knew that you’d both enjoy it. Your back pressed up against the rather uncomfortable tree as he laid his head on your lap, humming almost like a low purr as your hand played with his hair (although my mind imagines it to be really greasy, even if it’s probably not😭✋). Looking upwards at the sky as it faded to a blank and purple. You had expected him to already be sleeping since he had stopped making a sound. Looking down you find him to just be admiring you, your cheeks reddening slightly at the fondness in his usual piercing gaze that always seems to calm when they laid upon you. LEONA’s eyes had never looked as mesmerizing as before, the moonlight almost hitting them perfectly. ‘You know, your eyes are beautiful.’ You said softly, hand still running through his hair. LEONA lets out a low chuckle before giving you a teasing glare. ‘Careful herbivore, your children might just end up having them one day.’ He said that to get a reaction out of you originally but now that he thinks about it, LEONA wouldn’t mind sharing his eye color with your kids.

As you walked out into the cool evening breeze, grabbing your coat from the stands before closing the dormitory’s door behind you. You turn around to see someone you’ve grown ever so close with, MALLEUS. You smiled as you walked down the long and, rather ruff, walkways to the gate which was always left open since people would find ways to enter anyhow. Your eyes landed on him as she stood there patiently for you. Once you made it down to him and greeted him with a soft ‘Hello.’ you started your way around the campus, something you and MALLEUS loved doing. During the walk you decided to intertwine your hands with his, causing him to look down at you with surprise. ‘Your eyes are beautiful.’ you hummed without little shame, looking up at him. ‘Well, Child of man, perhaps our children could have them one day.’ You knew MALLEUS meant it which didn’t help the fact that your face was growing a red hue. ‘I definitely wouldn’t mind it if they did.’ You said softly as you both continued your walk.

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evilgwrl · 2 months ago

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Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Six)

CW: You’re approached by a drunk man who grabs you, nothing violent

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

The sky settled with a midnight blue, a murder of crows digging among the trees before burrowing away into secluded nests. It had been a multitude of days since you had seen Simon, practically barging out his front door with only a squeak of goodbye after the previous unfortunate incident.

You were constantly distracted. Your brain was plagued by the thought of him, and you felt like you were going to spiral, the whine of anxiety in your stomach doing you no favours. You pondered on the thought of knocking on his door, apologising for ignoring him, yet didn’t.

You headed to the bar instead.

The night air was balmy, the breeze kissing your skin as you walked in. The clinks of glasses and the exaggerated commotion of laughter bounced from the brick walls, faux vines hanging from the indents in an attempt to brighten the grimy room. There was a permanent stench of yeasty beer and cheap wine, couples canoodling in the corner or stumbling out of the toilets, rubbing their noses.

The lights were dim, barely able to see your own feet as you weaved through the throng, bodies pushing up against you as you searched around for your friends. You settled once you had the familiar voice of your long-term friend, Tamara. Your legs hobbled over to their table, ringlets of water staining the wood, multiple drinks already strewed out and consumed. You took in the two men you had never seen before, noting that one must be her new boyfriend she was gushing about.

“There you are!” She cooed, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, the soft ringlets in her hair rubbing against the side of your face, “This is the guy I was telling you about, Max.”

Max stood tall, offering you a polite handshake as you introduced yourself before he nudged the man next to him. The man was handsome, a boyish grin on his face as he extended a hand out to you. You feel a flutter of nerves but push through, engaging in light banter as you return his grip, mumbling your name out. You began to relax under the crowded atmosphere, scoffing down a shot that Max’s friend, who you now know as Louis, had shouted.

You listened to the story of how Tamara and Max met, bustling with laughter as you were fed drinks, the camaraderie drawing you in. The ambience embraced you with a warm glow, a soft smile on your face as you chattered amongst the group, mind fuzzed over with the alcohol that slurred through your bloodstream.

“The next rounds on me, what are we after?” You blurted, standing abruptly as you toppled slightly, Louis’ arm grabbing hold of you in a tight squeeze to catch you. He was sweet, offering you polite nods all night while you spoke, eyes lingering on you a little too long, but he wasn’t what you wanted. Not right now. Not after Simon.

Tamara huffed out, “4 shots,” before she attended to her boyfriend in a drunken matter, smoothing his hair down as they giggled amongst each other.

“Do you need me to come with you?” Louis yelled over the music, his lips curled in a grin before you shook your head, promising him it would only take a minute. You stepped away, huffing out a loud breath as you regained composure, eyes fluttering under the influence as you mingled between crowds to reach the bar. You needed a moment to reprieve, slightly overwhelmed by the severity of people, the damp smell of sweat and alcohol burning through you.

The bar was cooler, the marbled surface offering you a moment of solitude as you ordered the shots, resting your head in your hands as you waited. It wasn’t hard to feel a presence beside you, the scent of hair gel and poorly sprayed cologne blinding you as you felt a hand brush against your waist.

“Hey there beautiful.”

His voice was garbled, alcohol staining his breath as he gulped down the remainder of his beer, eerie eyes watching you with a perverted intensity. His hair was slicked back, brows furrowed as he scanned your face, hazel eyes practically consumed by his pupils as you noted the white residue that stuck to his flared nostrils.

“Can I help you?” Your voice was uneasy as you stared at the bartender, tapping impatiently against the exterior.

“Just wondering what a girl like you is doing here alone.”

You cringed. “I’m not alone but thank you anyway.”

Your lips curled in a polite smile as the bartender handed you the shots, a sigh of relief leaving as you nodded goodbye to the odd man. Talons dug into the flesh of your forearm, turning you around in a huffed frenzy as his face was still.

“I wasn’t done talking to you.”

“Look, I’m here with my friends, I appreciate the compliment, but I’m not interested.”

The warmth of the bar slowly begins to suffocate you as your eyes dart around the room, anxiety penetrating through you as you desperately attempt to get Tamara’s attention. “Come on, don’t be like that,” he insists, his tone shifting from casual to demanding. You felt stuck in place, his grasp coiling around you in a bruising grip. Your tongue was wedged in your throat, eyes widening in fear as you attempted to pull away, the shots slopping around in the tall glasses, liquid rolling down the back of your hands in a sticky mess.

“Please let me go.” Your tone was mousy like it was trapped down your oesophagus, losing all confidence.

“I believe we were having a conversation.”

“I believe she said to let her go.”

Your eyes flickered to the man behind him, face clad in a worn balaclava, eyes impossibly dark as a hand clad itself on the stranger’s shoulder, knuckles an ivory white.

“Sim-“

“Listen, man, we were having a simple conversation so get your hand off my fucking shoulder before we have a problem.”

You watched as your neighbour turned him around, a knee pressed against the man’s thighs as he held him by the collar, fingerings lacing the Adam’s apple of his neck, almost tracing the arteries as the stranger stilled.

“We gonna hav’ a problem?” Simon spat, tone an icy low as the man shook his head, rustling himself out of the Lieutenant’s grip. You watched your neighbour for a moment, lips pursed before you furrowed your brows.

“What are you doing here?”

“Friends from m’ task force are in town; you know that,” he smirked, testing the waters between you as almond eyes looked you up and down. Your skin was on show, an iridescent glow settling amongst it with a shining hue, the rest of you covered in a black one-piece, an expensive-looking necklace hanging low above your cleavage.

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you for being my knight in shining armour,” you chortled, jabbing him in the ribs slightly. It was impressive how hard his chest was.

Simon was admiring you, your eyes radiating a toxic that drew him in, poison spreading through his body like wildfire, and he allowed it.

“Let me take you home.”

“But my friends-“

“Let me take you home, Y/N. Please.”

Simon felt pathetic, his tone lacing with a gentle whine as he pleaded you with his eyes, the brown softening into a deeper shade. You liked it. The ride home was peaceful, the benign muse of the radio playing as one of his hands gripped the wheel, another at the gears.

“Y’ alright? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

You let out a ‘hm’, slightly confused before the gentle throb in your arm reminded you. “I’m okay, he was just a drunk guy.”

Your head rested against the window, the zip of trees blurring into a static mess, the dim headlines occasionally piercing through closed eyelids as you huffed out a clement breath. Your cul-de-sac welcomed you with a silent wave, all the houselights a mute shade of nothing as Simon pulled into your duplex. You giggled as you stumbled from the car, buff hands grabbing onto you as they lifted you up the stairs.

Nimble fingers fiddled with your keys, jabbing them into the door in a frustrated manner before you managed to wedge it open, a satisfied grin across your face, eyes blinded with tipsiness as you turned to your neighbour.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” You blurted, covering your mouth immediately as you stumbled over your following words, “I mean in my bed- not with me- because that would be weird to ask- you can say no-“

“Okay. I’ll sleep with you.”

I FUCKING HATE THIS BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE !!!!!!

#evilgwrl #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #simon riley #ghost #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x female reader #simon riley fluff #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost #simon riley x you

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krunaldigitalads · 1 month ago

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#Industrial Air Cooler #Air Cooler #Best Industrial Air Cooler #Sky Air Cooler

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jobean12-blog · 5 months ago

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Rescue Ride

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,043

Summary: When you get stranded with your broken down car someone unexpected comes to your rescue.

Author's Note: Just because! Honestly, I'd go anywhere with him haha Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘

Warnings: It's fluffy and cute and sweet (other than the annoying car trouble haha)

The air grows cooler as night starts to fall. There’s an eerie silence that envelopes the quiet road. Your car, having made strange noises for the past few miles, begins to smoke, and finally gives up and sputters to a stop.

You steer it to the side of the road, your heart racing as the sky continues to deepen into a dark canvas. You scan the area, seeing nothing but the far-off mile markers and the long shadows they cast against the encroaching darkness.

Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle engine pierces the stillness, growing louder with each passing second. Your stomach flips and your palms start to sweat.

You’re all alone out here and the chances of another car passing by any time soon are slim. You search your vehicle for something to defend yourself with…just in case.

Just over the horizon you can see the bike speeding closer. The rider flies by and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Now what? That may have been the only help you were going to get. If it was help at all.

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts. Since moving here, you had only made a couple of friends and you really didn’t want to ask either of them to come out and rescue you in goodness knows where.

As you continue to contemplate your fate you miss the low rumble of the engine and when you look up to see the motorcycle slowing to a stop a few feet in front of your car you nearly jump out of the seat.

He’s tall, one long leg lifting easily over the seat until both booted feet are planted firmly on the ground.

Your eyes continue to travel upward.

His tight jeans accentuate the shape of his muscular calves and the thickness of his thighs. A worn leather jacket fits snugly across his broad shoulders and his large hands are free of gloves.

As he moves toward you it’s hard to make out more than this large frame, the setting sun highlighting only his silhouette. However, when he reaches your car window and leans down with a smile, you’re struck speechless.

Long and dark strands of hair frame his face and his sparkling blue eyes crinkle at the corners. His sharp jaw is covered with dark stubble with patches of gray peppered throughout and surrounding a pair of very kissable lips.

“You ok doll?” he asks.

When you don’t answer he leans back to give you more space. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

You shake your head and open your mouth, still staring.

He smiles again.

“It’s ok. I’m ok,” you breathe out.

“Is your car, ok?” he asks.

“My car?”

He gently taps your car above the window.

“OH! Um, well no. I think it’s dead.”

Finally pulling his gaze from you he looks at the small puffs of smoke coming from the hood.

“Want me to take a look?”

“Really?” you ask. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says as he walks around to the front.

You open your door and get out, standing to the side to watch.

He opens the hood and peers inside, blowing smoke away from his face.

After only a few moments of assessment he says, “looks like you’ve got an antifreeze leak coming from one of your hose clamps.”

“Is that what it is?” you muse, trying to sound like you know what’s going on.

“I can fix it enough for you to get to the nearest station.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “I can’t have you do that! I’ll just call someone.”

He starts walking to his bike.

“And then you’ll have to pay towing fees. Not necessary doll. Lemme help you out.”

He opens the saddle bag and removes the toolbox. As he does so you notice a small lump in his jacket and when it starts to move you let out a squeak of surprise.

“Oh right,” he chuckles.

He slowly and carefully unzips the leather and reveals a small white ball of fluff.

“This is Alpine,” he explains as the cat uncurls itself against his chest.

Your eyes widen. “Oh my gosh! He’s SO CUTE!”

“Here,” he says. “You can hold him while I check out your car.”

He picks the cat up with one hand and holds him out for you to take. You gently grab him and cuddle him to your chest, cooing softly and scratching his head.

“He’s such a sweetie!”

“I found him about a month ago. Abandoned at a truck stop.”

The shock and disgust are evident in your expression and Bucky agrees with, “I know. Unbelievable right? Thankfully, he loves rides on the bike!”

He gives Alpine a soft pat and then gestures toward your car with his chin.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s take a look.”

You follow, standing closer to get a better look at him and you can see he’s even more gorgeous than you thought.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

After you introduce yourself, you watch him bend over the hood and grab a bandana from his back pocket.

He uses a wrench to loosen a steaming clamp and then grabs the hose with the bandana.

“It can get pretty hot,” he explains.

When he pulls the hose free you can see the leak and watch with relief as he easily contains it with a quick fix.

“This will hold long enough for you to get it somewhere and get it fixed.”

“I can’t thank you enough Bucky.”

He drops the wrench back in his toolbox and stuffs the bandana back into his pocket, all the while studying your face with soft eyes.

“Tell ya what doll face,” he starts. “I’ll follow you to the nearest repair shop to make sure you get there safely and then while you wait for your car to get fixed I'll take you out for a bite to eat.”

“On your bike?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a smirk. “Ever ridden before?”

You shake your head no.

His lopsided grin grows, and he leans in a little closer.

“Lookin’ forward to being your first, doll.”

@randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @kmc1989 @hiddles-rose

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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thewatcher727 · 2 months ago

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Writing Description Notes: Warm/Hot

Updated 9th September 2024 More description notes

Jane's skin tingled as the hot sand beneath her feet radiated the day's accumulated warmth.

The air shimmered with heat waves, distorting the distant horizon into a mirage of sun-soaked hues.

John sighed contentedly, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face.

Hot summer sunsets brought an orange sky as if it were all one giant star.

Iced drinks and wide brimmed hats were captain's orders in the heat wave.

Jane's skin flushed with the warmth of the summer breeze, carrying the scent of blooming flowers.

The hot pavement underfoot seemed to radiate heat, creating a mirage-like effect on the sunlit street.

John sought refuge in the shade, where the air felt cooler compared to the relentless, midday heat.

Jane's clothes clung to her in the sweltering heat.

The gentle rustle of leaves overhead provided a soothing soundtrack to the warm, lazy afternoon.

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kira-dofc · 4 months ago

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Gojo and Geto x Nerd! Male reader

Notes: Currently experiencing writers' block, so this is js a random hc I made for these two 😔 I live for possessive Gojo and Geto, so I gave you all what I wanted 💖 also ik I said no threesome, but this is an exemption I had nothing to post I'm desperate (Also I live for these two men) 😔

Word Count: I don't know

Warnings: Smut! Threesome, High-school au, double pen, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, double stimulation, overstimulation, smutty smut smut

It was mid-afternoon, with the golden hues of the setting sun beginning to paint the sky outside. Inside the classroom, the atmosphere was thick with the quiet concentration of students engrossed in their quizzes. You tapped your pencil rhythmically against the desk, your eyes flitting over the questions. Though your mind wandered, you effortlessly penned down the answers, the quiz more a formality than a challenge for someone of your intellect. The questions, simple as a child's puzzle, felt like an exercise in tedium rather than a true test of knowledge.

The soft orange rays filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow that danced across the rows of desks and illuminated the faces of your classmates. The air-conditioning, a gentle whisper against your skin, provided a cool contrast to the warmth of the sunlight. The chill of the conditioned air brushed over your skin, a subtle reminder of the modern comforts that cocooned you in this academic fortress.

You were well-known in the school, not just for your academic prowess, but also for the silent feud with your two sworn enemies, Gojo and Geto. These two were the epitome of what it meant to be popular and untouchable. Their presence was a constant irritant, a source of countless headaches. With their charm and seemingly effortless charisma, they could sway teachers and students alike, getting away with behavior that would land anyone else in detention. It was an infuriating dynamic, made worse by your desire to stand out in a different way, to impress the girl in your class who occupied your thoughts more often than you'd like to admit.

The room was silent, save for the faint scratching of pencils on paper, when suddenly the door swung open with a force that sent a shiver through the classroom. The abrupt interruption shattered the calm, drawing all eyes to the doorway. There stood Gojo, his white hair almost glowing in the afternoon light, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Excuse me, where is Y/n?" he called out, his voice carrying a casual authority that silenced the room.

Every head turned toward you, the air thick with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, the attention unwelcome and uncomfortable. Trying to maintain your composure, you stood and made your way to the front of the room. The teacher gave a curt nod, granting permission for the interruption. You met Gojo's gaze, your eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"Come with me," Gojo said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Before you could respond, he grabbed your hand and began to pull you toward the hallway. "H-hey, what are you doing?!" you exclaimed, stumbling slightly as you tried to keep pace with him. His grip was firm, and despite your protests, he continued to lead you through the corridors, his expression a mix of seriousness and something unreadable.

The hallway was cooler, the air-conditioning more pronounced here, as Gojo steered you toward the bathrooms. As you rounded the corner, you saw Geto leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, a lazy smile on his face. The scene felt almost surreal, like stepping into a different world, far removed from the quiet confines of the classroom. The afternoon light, filtered through narrow windows, cast long shadows that added an edge of drama to the encounter.

"What do you want now?" you scoffed, planting your hands firmly on your hips in a defiant gesture. The air was thick with tension, the echoes of your classmates' hushed whispers still lingering in your mind. Gojo, ever the instigator, exchanged a knowing glance with Geto, who stood up straight, a smirk playing on his lips. "Gojo, do it," Geto commanded, his voice calm and almost bored.

Before you could react, Gojo's grip tightened around your wrist, and his other hand quickly muffled any protest you might have voiced. "Don't make this any harder for us and be a good boy for us two, yeah?" he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky, sending an unsettling shiver down your spine. The vibration of his words seemed to resonate within you, leaving you no choice but to comply. You followed them into the bathroom, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh, cold glow over the tiled walls and floor.

Geto positioned himself in front of you, his eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as he reached out, his fingers tracing the lines of your face before moving to your hair. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a softness that contrasted starkly with the firm grip Gojo still maintained on you. "Be a good boy, and we won't punish you as much," Geto murmured, his breath warm against your skin, his lips curving into a smirk that sent a jolt of anxiety through you. He then kissed your neck, the sensation both tender and electrifying, before biting down gently, marking you with a small bruise that felt like a brand.

The bathroom stall became a confined world of its own, filled with the sounds of labored breathing and the rustling of clothing. You found yourself straddling Geto, his body beneath you a solid, unyielding presence. Gojo stood before you, his hands deft and experienced as they explored your body, heightening your senses with each touch. The air was thick with the mingling scents of sweat and arousal, creating a heady, intoxicating atmosphere. They were both thrusting in and out of you, leaving out grunts and whimpers with every thrust. Gojo panted as he played with your dick, twitching every time he touched the tip, slick in precum. He then stroked lazily, seemingly trying to focus on how your hole sucked both Geto's and his dick so good. You moaned, "Gojo...." your hands covering your mouth as you bent your back, resting your head in Geto's shoulders. Your skin rubbing against Geto's make you feel good, too. The way he moans and groans through your skin as it vibrates. The two cocks inside you kept pulsing, making you let out louder moans.

The rhythm of their movements became more intense, your senses flooded with the heat and pressure building within you. Time seemed to stretch, the moments blending together as you lost yourself in the raw physicality of the encounter. Your body trembled with each thrust, your voice rising in pitch as the pleasure mounted, the walls of the bathroom stall echoing your cries.

You three were there for almost 1 hour and 30 minutes, your hole now stretched and burning. Their precum now used as lub as it slid through your wet walls. Your muffled moans turned to echoed ones every time they hit your sweet spot. They soon came inside of you, wetting and knotting your walls as you screathed the back of Gojo. Endless streams of semen flowed through your tired hole as you hugged Gojo tightly. Gojo then let out his cock as it rested to your stomack, painting it white. Geto, on the other hand, stayed inside you after his organs, making your stomach flutter in pleasure. You then heard the two panting as you yourself came. Gojo placing his hand behind your back, and Geto kissing your neck and giving soft bites. Your body aches, everything aches, "You took us so well, baby." Gojo flirted as he huffed in front of you. The bell soon rang, and suddenly, you blacked out after your orgasm.

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rainrot4me · 4 months ago

Text

Behind The Veils

Summary: Hiking to capture the perfect sunrise photo for your portfolio, you stumble upon a supposedly abandoned cabin, your curiosity driving you to investigate. When you're met with two very large and very aggressive masked men, they decide that they'll put you to good use.

Characters: Masky & Hoodie x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Bondage, gagging, choking, throat fucking, restraint, teasing, dominance, threesome, vaginal, anal, eating out, cumming on face, threatening, chasing, bargaining, mentions of guns, ropes

Words: 6.1k

You would do anything for a good shot. Trespassing included.

Working on your portfolio for school was proving to be more physically demanding than you anticipated, but if it meant you got in on a good scholarship, you were willing to break a few laws.

Your heart raced as you pushed down the barbed wire fence and swung a leg over. These woods were off-limits as deemed by the state, but you knew of a beautiful mountainscape that would make for a perfect sunrise picture. And, considering how your portfolio was currently looking, you needed this shot. Glancing at the “Private Property, Do Not Enter” sign one last time, you swung your other leg over and pulled your backpack back onto your shoulders.

You filled your large pack with enough stuff to last you a day. A sleeping bag, a one-person tent, a fire starter, and all the other junk you could think of. It was late afternoon now, and you planned on setting up camp closer to the lookout and hiking the rest before sunrise. It would be a couple of miles, but you were willing and excited. Photography was your life and passion, and you planned on following it through no matter the challenge (or legality).

Pushing away from the barbed fence, you trekked through the dense forest, with no clear path in sight. You pulled out your phone and found your map, searching for an easier way to the scenic lookout, but finding no angle except the one you were taking now. You groaned, shoving your phone back in your back and continuing on. It wasn’t all that bad though. The weather was warm, a breeze blowing through the dense trees and cooling you off. The late summer afternoon had animals and bugs buzzing, creating a nice scenery to walk through. You wouldn’t only get a good picture, but a nice hike in as well.

But as the day passed and the sun stooped lower into the horizon, the woods were becoming less and less inviting. The animals had gone quiet now, with no chirping or singing of birds in the trees. The only noise was the low humming of insects in the grass, an ominous feeling creeping on you the darker it got. You knew it was only your mind tricking you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. Only about two miles out from the lookout now, and this felt like a good place to set up camp.

Hurriedly, you unpacked your bag, popped up your tent, and rolled your sleeping bag out. The sky was dark with the colors of the sunset, but it provided just enough illumination to gather fallen branches and make a small fire stack. You crouched down, tossing some brush and leaves into the pile and striking the fire starter, creating a spark that flamed into a small fire. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to heat your bowl of food and provide you warmth against the cooler night air. Still so strangely quiet, the forest was dark, unable to see past the glow of your fire. You tried not to psych yourself out, but you gripped your pocket knife close, fiddling with the blade anxiously. You knew there were no people out here. At least none besides brave teenagers who dared each other to throw parties out here. Your main concern was a bobcat or some wild animal running up on you, but you thought scaring anything off wouldn’t be too difficult.

You breathed deep, trying to calm your nerves against your racing mind. Deciding you were tired enough, you zipped open the small tent and wrapped it up in your sleeping bag, closing the tent back and nestling it. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and grasshoppers in the grass, but your brain was still on high alert, listening closely. But when nothing came, your eyes eventually fluttered close and you slipped into sleep.

Morning eventually came, and you were pleasantly surprised with how little you stirred during the night. Unzipping the tent, the cool morning air rolled in, pulling you awake. The forest was covered in a dense wave of fog, the sun still low on the horizon and just barely peeking up against the horizon. Jumping up, you quickly packed your things and shuffled your backpack on. But when you went to stomp out your smoldering fire, something in the dirt nearby caught your attention. Peering closer, your heart sunk, fear rising in your throat. In the damp dirt, a very large bootprint was sunk into the ground. As you looked, you found more following closer to your tent. You began to silently panic, swinging your head around to look through the trees, but sighing when you saw nothing. Your heart still raced with the knowledge that someone had been walking around near your camp making you sick.

Stomping out the rest of the fire, you scurried away back onto your path, walking a little faster than you were before. As you walked, you tried to convince yourself that maybe you were tricking yourself. Maybe it was your boot print that you accidentally left, or someone that had hiked there before and it was just their leftover tailmarks. But you knew that boot was easily four sizes bigger than your own, and that boot print looked way too fresh. Shivering, you continued your trek but kept a close eye out, jumping at any slight movements.

Eventually, you crept up the mountainside, breathing heavily as you raced against the sunrise to the rocky overlook. The fog had settled, a thin haze of mist against the grass all that remained. Gripping onto trees, you pushed up the hill, the lookout coming into view. You sighed heavily, tugging yourself up the rocks and eventually reaching the top, breathing heavily. But as you caught your breath, you tossed your backpack off and rummaged through for your camera and the stand. The sun was just barely peeking up, offering a nice pink haze across the entire scene. Your excitement bubbled as you found your supplies and began to set up at the edge of the rocks.

High up on the mountain, you could see the stretch of the forest, the trees looking even more dense from up high. It was stunning as the sun reflected off of the morning dew. The mountain range in the distance complemented the horizon beautifully, the sun shining right between the peaks. Clasping your camera onto the tripod, you turned it on and angled it, catching the expanse of the forest in the lens. You smiled wide, snapping dozens of pictures before repositioning and capturing more. You would go through them all later, editing and angling them just perfect for your portfolio. This scene just screams adventure, solitude, and daring. It was perfect.

As you finished taking pictures, you noticed a gap in the treeline further up the mountain, another great angle of the mountain range. Grabbing your stuff, you hauled further up, clicking through the photos you had already taken as you walked. These were exactly what you needed, but you wouldn’t mind snapping a few more from a different angle just in case.

Pushing through the brush of the mountain, you finally reached the higher peak, already throwing your stuff down to set up again. But as you set your tripod up, something in the trees caught the corner of your eye. Turning, you could barely make out the cabin hidden amongst the large trees. Peeking, your brows knitted, unsure of why there was a cabin out here in the first place. Turning back, you quickly snapped a few pictures before packing your stuff back up, the sun well above the mountains now.

Pushing deeper into the trees, you studied the cabin, the small lodge otherwise invisible from outside the forest. The thick leaves and foliage disguised it, making it all the more ominous. Maybe it was a hunting cabin used during the winter or some old abandoned home before the state closed this forest off. You knew you should’ve been more cautious, but as the sun peeked through the trees and cast a warm glow against the dark wood, all you could think of was how good it would look in a photo.

Pressing closer, you hugged against the trees, trying to see the best angle for a picture. The cabin was older, with weathering and vines decorating the exterior. But it was charming, in a creepy kind of way. As you rounded to the side of the cabin only a couple of yards away, you lifted your camera and shot a couple of pictures, admiring the mist radiating around the lodge in the early sunlight. You trudged around to the back, lifting your camera again but stopping quickly. At first, you thought it was just the sunlight shining through one of the windows. But as you looked closer, you could see a small lamp turned on inside of the dusty window.

Your heart stopped, a cold shiver shooting up your spine. There was no way someone was out here. Especially not inside that decrepit old thing. You knew you should’ve high-tailed it out of there, packing up your stuff and shooting back down the mountain. But you being your daring self, you pressed closer to the small porch of the cabin, trying your best to peek inside the fogged window. When you eventually got so close your feet knocked the steps of the porch, you stepped up, sliding to the window.

Cobwebs decorated the porch, and large vines and patches of weathering surrounded the wooden door. You couldn’t see very well through the window, but as you crouched against the cabin and peered inside, you were shocked to see nothing. There were no signs of life inside besides the small lamp, somehow powered on in the middle of nowhere. How it was getting electricity, you were too dumb to figure out.

You stood slowly, trying your best to see further than the lamp through the fogginess of the glass. Maybe it was just left on accidentally? You hoped so. But who would come all the way out here? After deducing that the place truly was abandoned, you set your bag on the porch and lifted your camera. Even though scary, the closeness would make for a good picture. Angling, you captured the lamp framed by the foggy window. However, when the flash of the camera went off, a sudden thud echoed inside the lodge. Your heart dropped, white fear shooting through as you backed against the railing of the porch. Shit. Shit. Shit. The sudden loud thuds of boots sounded inside, your body scrambling quickly to grab your bag and run, but it was already too late.

The door slammed open in your face, knocking you back on your ass down the steps and onto the grass below. You didn’t even look up, turning quickly to dig your feet into the ground and sprint. You held your camera close to your chest, panting heavily as you dodged through the trees. You had no idea who was in that cabin, but you weren't going to stick around and find out. If they were crazy enough to live out here then they were crazy enough to hurt you, and fuck that. Nudging through the brush, you pressed through the trees, heaving desperately for air as your legs burned with fear. As soon as you felt like you had gained a good distance away, it all ended. You felt your head stop before the rest of your body, your limbs shooting forward before you were slammed down to the ground with a loud thud. Your head pounded, a large hand pressing your face down into the ground and giving you a terrible impact headache. You’d be lucky if you didn’t have bruises from how hard your body stopped.

Groaning sharply, you squinted your eyes, your vision partially blinded by the thick fingers pressing down against your face. Your body panicked, writing under the weight as the body on top of you pressed down harder, restricting your movements. You wanted to scream, but your head was pounding too hard to speak, let alone scream. Clawing at the hand on your face, you whined, desperate to move as fear ran through you.

“Quit fighting.” A gruff voice groaned in front of your face, pressing your head down harder into the grass. You tried to see him, your head pressed to the side so all you saw was the dirt and grass beneath you. Until you heard those boots thudding beside your head again, echoing against the forest floor. When they came into your vision, you panicked, the thick black soles blocking your vision. The figure knelt, the other person holding you down angling your head up to get a clear shot of the man crouching beside your head. “Well, hello.” This voice was lighter, scratchier than the other but not as rough. They were both men though, and large enough to hold you down.

The man in front of you was odd, something straight out of a movie. He wore a white mask decorated with a face, little holes cut in the eyes so you could see his dark eyes. He glared at you, his brown hair messed in front of his face. You were caught in confusion, your eyes flicking quickly against him as you tried to gather as much about his appearance as you could. The other man gripped your face tight, angling you to look at the sky as the two of them talked.

“She’s a fast little fucker.” The lower voice growled, nails digging into your cheeks as you began to struggle again. “Hold her steady, don’t let her wiggle out.” The other one commanded, standing and shuffling away. You finally caught sight of the other one, a mustard hoodie pulled over his head, a dark ski mask painted with a red frowning face. Who the hell were these two? They looked like some emo band wannabes and it seriously was beginning to scare you. What in the world were they doing in the middle of nowhere dressed like that? The one with the hoodie was staring right at you, his face covered but his eyes roaming your body. “What the hell are you doing out here anyways?” He gruffed, snapping your camera out of your hands. You gasped, reaching for it but him holding it above your reach.

“I was- ah- taking pictures. Of the sunset. I- I’m a photographer.” You huffed, tears pricking at your eyes as he remained unamused. He ignored your response, looking to the other one who was now dragging your bag towards you two. Zipping your backpack open, they rummaged through your belongings, throwing your supplies out onto the ground carelessly.

“Damn, so she was the camper out last night.” The lighter voice rang, tossing your sleeping bag onto the ground. Your heart sunk, tears finally spilling over your cheeks. So someone had come to your campsite last night. This was getting worse by the minute.

“Shoulda just killed her then like I said.” The darker voice growled, throwing your extra pair of socks down too. You sobbed into his hand, your hands clawing against his hand as he refused to let up. The one in the white mask crouched again, staring you directly in the eyes. “Knock her out, bring her back to the cabin.”

The last thing you saw before you blacked out was the hilt of a gun slamming down against your head, a sharp pain rining before everything went dark.

You had no clue how much time had passed when you awoke, but the sun was low in the sky, the colors of the sunset already spilling against the horizon through the window. The inside of the cabin was warm, a low fire crackling in the fireplace across from you. You glanced around, the inside was just as shabby as the outside, but the furniture inside wasn’t half bad considering you were tied to a table chair. Thick ropes wrapped around your torso, securing you against the back of the chair as you struggled. Your head pounded, a sharp throbbing echoing from the spot the gun made contact with your head. When you fully came to, you heard the loud ring of arguing from somewhere down the hallway, the small cabin doing little to conceal their words.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Masky, that on our only fucking week off some bitch decides to get curious.” The one in the hoodie, you recognized his voice. There was loud stomping, one following the other as they came closer down the hallway. “I say we just kill her, Hoodie, but you always need to interrogate the little shits.” The masked one growled back, the both of them coming into view through your hazy vision. They both glared at you, closing the distance between you as you struggled against your restraints. You could barely breathe as they hovered over you, their intimidating presence making it hard to stay calm. “Ple- Please. I just, ah, got lost. Please.” You gritted, pressing your feet against the floor and pulling against the ropes, but they didn’t budge. Respectively, Masky and Hoodie, their names fitting, leaned closer, basically ignoring that you had even said anything.

Masky slid away, grabbing your camera off the dining table and sliding it to Hoodie who turned it on. They flicked through the photos, you awkwardly staring as they studied each photo. “Seems like she was just taking photos,” Hoodie grumbled, handing the camera back to Masky as he glared back to you. “Ain’t half bad either.” You flicked your eyes hurriedly between the two, anxiety growing in your stomach as they silently examined your camera and you. There was no reading these guys, their every emotion concealed behind their stupid masks. Were they going to kill you? Over taking some pictures too close to their shitty cabin? What a way to die.

Masky tossed the camera down, you cringing as it scooted onto the table. “Looks like she wasn’t lying. Lucky you.” He grinned slyly, leaning against the table. They both had this bad habit of just looking at you and not speaking like they were communicating in their minds. It seriously freaked you out as you again tried to tug against your restraints. “Just let me go and I swear I won’t tell nobody. I- I’m just tryna take some photos.” You whined, shriveling in on yourself when they pressed closer again. They stood tall, looming above you and just stared. It was impossible not to just squirm under them, their eyes studying every inch of you. Their weird dynamic made you unsure, their personalities so different but complimenting each other perfectly.

Defeated, you hung your head, your head hurting too bad to plead anymore. But when you looked down, you noticed what they were looking at. Your face blushed, eyes widening as you shot your head back up at them. Your shirt was torn to pieces, your bra doing little to hide your tits through the shredded fabric. It must have happened when you were slammed to the ground, the thick underbrush tearing at your clothes before they dragged you back to the cabin. Your cheeks went dark, embarrassment creeping as you tried to hide yourself, but the ropes under your tits pushed them up further. When they noticed your embarrassment, you could hear them chuckle. “Embarrassed, huh? Sorry, Hoodie here isn’t very good about being polite while chasing someone.” He laughed, pressing close to your left, his gaze fitting on your tits. You squeezed your knees together, your stomach tight with embarrassment as Masky stared at you through the mask.

“Yeah, not very sorry if it meant I got a view like this,” Hoodie grunted, shoving Masky’s shoulder as he pressed closer to your right, leaning his masked face down closer to yours. You glanced quickly between the two of them, unsure of what to do as you felt trapped between two wild animals. Anger ragged at you, your face growing hot. These creepy freaks were perverts too, great. You thrashed against the ropes, kicking your feet forward but Masky held your knees easily. Hoodie gripped your jaw in return, angling your face to look at him as they held you still. “But I’m still not opposed to shooting you.” Masky huffed, digging his nails into your skin. Hoodie laughed, turning your head in his hand to get a better look at you. You struggled slightly, pressing your face against his hand in retaliation. “Feisty.” He smiled. Hoodie’s playful provocations and Masky’s intense gaze made you acutely aware of the charged energy between the three of you.

Masky gripped your knees tight, pushing them down against the chair and sliding his hands to your crotch. He tried to rub his hand against your clothed cunt, but you resisted, wriggling your hips down against the chair. “Don’t be all bratty now. I’m sure Hoodie would love to break that little attitude.” Masky huffed, gripping your legs apart. You whined, Hoodie’s answering grip against your cheeks. You glanced between them, shutting your eyes before sighing. “If I let you… whatever. Are you still gonna kill me afterwards?” You whined, struggling against the ropes one final time. The men glanced between each other, then back to you.”Depends on how good you take us. We’re trying to enjoy our week off of work but you had to just run up on us, huh? You gotta earn your way out of this one.” Hoodie barked, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans when you noticed the slight bulge prodding through. Your cheeks grew dark again, your eyes shutting as you gritted your teeth. “Not my fault you’re squatting in the middle of nowhere.” The hooded man gripped your face tighter, tugging his pants down and letting his large cock spring free, the thick length bobbing in front of your head eagerly. “Then maybe don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Giving the length a few good pumps, he pressed his cock head against your mouth, tapping it against your lips before pulling your jaw down. You glared up at him before sliding your tongue out, flattening against the head. Hoodie’s playful dominance contrasted with Masky’s more forceful desire, their eagerness coaxing you.

Hoodie grunted, holding your jaw open as he pressed the rest of his length in, your jaw unhinging to fit the sheer thickness of him. Your eyes slammed shut, throat constricting around him as you strangled to breathe. He huffed above you, fist tugging at your jaw as he forced you to begin bobbing on the length. You strained, tongue pressing against him as he fucked into your mouth haphazardly. This was rough, but his tight grunts and moans made your stomach flutter. Masky was quick to wrap his fist around your hair, gripping it tight and tugging your head in time with Hoodie’s thrusts.

It was becoming difficult to breathe as Masky slid his free hand down in between your thighs and began to unzip your jeans, pressing his hand down underneath. His fingers found your clothed clit easily, rubbing harshly against the bud and waking it up. You grunted hard around Hoodie’s cock, breath catching and ragged as he refused to let up. His large hands were rough on your jaw, forcing it to stay open as his hips thrust into your throat. It was like Masky could read his movements, pulling your hair back or pushing your head forward to match his hips, making Hoodie grunt and moan loudly above you.

Tears pricked your eyes, the need to breathe becoming desperate, but you knew they didn’t care. Masky hands had abandoned your panties and were now under them, rubbing against your bare clit and making your hips jerk. “Ah- Damn. Bitch’s got a damn good mouth.” Hoodie growled, gritting his teeth. Masky just chuckled, sliding his thick fingers down your folds and pressing against your entrance, your stomach fluttering when he pressed the digits inside. You moaned loudly, slobber drooling out the corners of your mouth as Hoodie nestled his cock inside your mouth and refused to move. Your body strained against the ropes, hands gripping the chair as you begged for air, eyes wide and pleading with tears. Hoodie laughed, hands holding your head still and keeping you suffocating on him. Masky was gripping your hair in return, prodding his fingers deep inside of you and watching closely as you choked.

“Come on now, don’t make the poor thing pass out.” Masky cooed, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gag hard, body straining to moan around the cock. Your head was light, the lack of air getting to you as you choked, eyes growing heavy. Hoodie huffed before he popped out of your mouth, a thick string of slobber still connecting his head to your lips. Pressing your cheeks together, the hooded man chuckled, slapping his glistening cock against your swollen lips. “Nah, she’d be too boring knocked out. I like to watch her submit.” He growled, fisting his length.

You moaned sharply, eyes closing as Masky continued to curl his fingers, drawing noises from your mouth. He slid them out, his fingers glistening with your arousal, holding them up. He let go of your hair, his hand tugging down his zipper and freeing his strained cock. It wasn’t much bigger than Hoodie’s, but your raw throat didn’t make you thrilled to have two large cocks in your face. Hoodie gripped Masky’s wrist, pulling his hand to his mouth as he slid his mask up, barely revealing his mouth. Taking the soaked fingers in his lips, he swirled his tongue around them, reveling in the taste. Masky watched carefully, cock twitching in front of your face until Hoodie popped the fingers out of his mouth, smiling wickedly. “Yum.” He growled, kneeling between your legs and shoving your knees open. As he shoved your jeans down and off your legs, Masky was quick to grip your cheeks and slide the head of his cock into your mouth. However, unlike Hoodie, his hands let go, placing them on his hips as he watched you. “Well?” He grunted, your questioning look evident as your lips stayed wrapped around the head.

Hoodie was pressing your folds apart, his mask still hooked above his nose as do dove in, licking a thick stripe between them. You grunted, flinching as he lapped at your arousal. Masky still watched impatiently, eyes baring into your face. “Told you you were gonna have to work for it. Either get to sucking or I put a bullet there instead.” He grunted, tilting his head.

You furrowed your brows, your anger pooling but soon interrupted by Hoodie’s tongue breaching your entrance and curling. “Fuck you.” Reluctantly, you began to bob your head, chest straining against the ropes to suck as far down as you could. Masky was cocky, a smug expression in his eyes as he watched you slide down as far as you could before choking and retreating. You slipped your tongue around his head, lapping at the precum that pooled out. The tongue in your cunt made it hard to focus, little whines and moans vibrating on the cock in your mouth as your pleasure grew.

This was all kinds of insane, but your resolve was slowly breaking the further Hoodie’s tongue lapped up into your cunt. You huffed, sucking hard against the head of Masky’s cock and trying your best not to gag. He watched, unamused, very different from the grunts and gasps that Hoodie sported earlier. “You can either gag on it, or I’ll make you. I won’t be as nice as my friend though.” He snarled, smacking you on the face lightly, leaving a little red mark. You huffed, Hoodie still eagerly eating you out, groaning as he fisted his cock between his legs. Reluctantly, you unhinged your sore jaw, your throat pleading not to as you pushed further, throat constricting as his head pushed through. Gagging, your eyes slammed shut, gripping the chair beneath you. Only then did Masky’s face contort, little grunts and huffs of air muffled behind his mask. His nails dug into his hips, shallowly thrusting without showing too much desperation.

Your cunt was growing strained, Hoodie’s tongue poking and prodding and dragging you closer to your orgasm. Your back arched, choking on Masky’s cock as your orgasm rocked you, your hips desperately stuttering against Hoodie’s tongue. Your walls constricted, Masky shoving his cock deeper as you heard him grunting, warm seed shooting into your throat. It caught you off guard, but as your eyes rolled and cunt throbbed, you mindlessly swallowed the liquid.

Hoodie pulled his tongue out of your cunt, standing quickly as he pulled a pocket knife out of his jeans. You panicked, fear contorting your face before realizing he was cutting your ropes off, them falling to the floor. “You’re gonna cum on my cock next, sweetheart,” Hoodie growled, gripping your arms and pulling you, hauling you to the couch behind you. You were still panting heavily as he sat on the couch, hauling you onto his lap and straddling his legs. Masky was quick to follow, his ragged pants behind you as he stood behind your back, pressing his chest against your shoulder blades.

Trapped, Hoodie gripped your hips, cock throbbing under you as he angled himself, nudging his head against your clit. You flinched, sensitivity running through you as Masky ran his hands against your ass, gripping tightly and pulling them apart. Reaching around, he forced his fingers into your mouth, your tongue running over the thick digits. Hoodie gripped your hips down, pressing your entrance open with his thick cock, straining against your sensitive walls. You whined, stretching sharply as he pressed inside, moans stifled by the fingers in your mouth. Pulling back, Masky rubbed his wet fingers against your puckered asshole, your spine instantly straightening as you realized what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t get scared now,” He smiled, sliding the digits against your hole. You gripped Hoodie’s shoulders as he pressed inside, your cunt throbbing as he bottomed out, moaning sharply. At the same time, Masky pressed his middle finger inside of your asshole, a sharp sting ringing through your body. Hoodie pulled your hips up, thrusting you up and down against his length, your hands gripping tight on his shoulders. Masky curled his finger, probing and stretching the tight ring of flesh as he worked you open, soon adding another one. You were overwhelmed, the mix of pleasure and pain sending you reeling with moans, your skin hot to the touch.

“God, you’re so tight. Pussy sucking me in.” Hoodie huffed, nails sharp against your hips as Masky tugged your shirt over your head, free hand kneading your tits. You were whining, head spinning as Masky stretched you open, Hoodie filling you at the same time. “Bet you’ve never been fucked in the ass before, huh? Gonna have you screaming.” Masky cooed against your neck, mouthing against the skin as he fingered your asshole quickly.

Pulling out, he nudged the cock head against your hole, gripping your waist as he slowly pushed. “Hold her.” He grunted at Hoodie who held you nestled on his cock, hands forcing you to bottom out as he twitched inside of you. As you felt the slow push, you began to squirm, hips jerking forward. Masky nipped at your neck, sliding his tongue up to the back of your ear and nibbling, groaning as the head of his cock pressed through your entrance and popped in, a sharp sting rining you. Crying out, Hoodie began to slowly thrust up again, huffing his pleasure as he watched your face contort. “Looks so good when you’re helpless.” He grunted, your hands gripping his hands around your hips and pulling, begging him to let off. He still held, teeth gritting.

Masky pressed slowly, cursing as your tight ass clamped down, offering him little room to thrust as he rutted against you. He was big, and the stretch was uncomfortable. But as he reached his hand around to rub your clit, your whines turned to strangled moans, Hoodie resuming his devastating pace.

Before you knew it, they were both thrusting into you, your mixed grunts and gasps echoing through the small cabin. You were overwhelmed, jaw going slack as their hips thrust in time with each other, cocks brushing against the other inside of you. They pressed close against you, Masky’s teeth digging into your skin as his fingers rubbed harshly against your swollen cunt. “Relax, sweetheart, let us just ruin you.” He groaned, hips pressed flush against your plump ass and rutting up, making you whine.

Their pace was ruining you, for sure. Your eyes roll and jaw slack as you grip tight, trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t breathe, air catching in your throat as you cracked a moan. You could feel yourself getting close again, Masky’s fingers working you just right. The sweet mix of pleasure and pain ruined you, gasping hard when Hoodie slammed your hips down. Their pace was becoming ragged as well, hips rutting against you as their groans grew heavy. “Go on, cum all over us, sweetheart.” You whined, their hips heavy and voices rough as you felt that familiar pull spill over. “Oh God, please-”

Your cunt constricted, clit throbbing under rough fingers as you screamed your orgasm. It was dizzying, both holes clamping down and throbbing around the thick lengths as they continued to pound you. Your sensitivity rocked you, hips squirming and tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to claw away from their still brutal pace.

“Oh don’t go running now.” Hoodie huffed, lifting his hips off the couch and slamming inside, relishing in the way your tightness held him. They both grunted, Masky tangling his hand in your hair and slipping out of your ass, your loud whine making him curse. Hoodie was soon to follow, standing and throwing your back down on the couch, the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder above you. You were panting, sweat coating your brow as you watched them fist their cocks in front of your face, their grunts and huffs echoing behind their masks. “Open up.” Masky barked, pressing his cock close to your face.

Fucked out, you obliged, too tired to give up a fight. They groaned, cock heads touching as they came on your flattened tongue, their seed striping across your face. You closed your eyes, squirming as the warm liquid coated your face and their moans became ragged.

After they settled, your eyes were heavy, blinking calmly as they watched you. Hoodie slid over to the kitchen table, grabbed your camera and flipped it on, laughing as he snapped pictures. Your cheeks were dark, your face fucked out and tired as the flash blinded you. “Looks real good without cum all over you.” He smiled, stuffing his cock back in his jeans as Masky did the same. Masky grabbed your ragged shirt, huffing as he wiped your face clean, your tired eyes making him laugh. “I like you a lot better when your mouth isn’t running.”

You couldn’t be bothered to give a response, just slumping down further into the couch as sleepiness dozed you. The two men chuckled, watching closely as you finally slipped into a very vulnerable sleep.

When you stirred, the first thing you were met with was the forest floor, grass tickling your nose. It was light outside, the early morning light slightly blinding your tired eyes. You sat up, looking around quickly but sighing when there was no sign of the men or their freaky cabin. Your backpack was beside you, leaning against the barbed wire fence where you had entered the forest, your camera sat on top. Standing, you grabbed the camera, flipping it on as you quickly looked through the photos.

You cringed as you looked at the lewd pictures of yourself, embarrassment crippling your face. You were thankful for their mercy, but their bruteness made you groan, your lower region still sore and throbbing. You threw your bag over your shoulders, hopping back over the fence as you made the trek back to your car.

You glanced back one final time, nervously scanning the forest edge, but sighing when you found nothing.

You got more than you came for, but at least your portfolio would be good.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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