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cilliansmesoftly · 5 months ago

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chase it

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader

summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?

warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?

his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?

he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.

the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.

tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.

“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”

“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?

“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. ��you mind if i shower real quick?”

“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.

“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.

if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.

if you feel it, chase it.

he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.

“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”

tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.

you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.

“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.

“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.

tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.

“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.

“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.

“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.

“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.

“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”

“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.

“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.

“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.

“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.

“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”

“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”

“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.

“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.

“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.

“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”

“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”

“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”

“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.

“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.

you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.

“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.

“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”

you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.

“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”

“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.

“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”

“okay.” you nodded.

“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”

you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.

“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.

you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”

“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”

“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”

you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”

you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.

“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.

“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.

“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.

he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.

he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.

“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.

“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”

“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.

“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”

“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”

“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”

“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.

the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.

“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”

“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.

“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”

“i’m yours.” you mumbled.

“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”

you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.

“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.

“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.

the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.

“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.

“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”

“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”

“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.

“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”

“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”

“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”

“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.

the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.

the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.

“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.

“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.

“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.

“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”

“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.

“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”

“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”

“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”

you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”

the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.

#spotify #glen powell #glen powell imagine #glen powell smut #twisters #twisters movie #tyler owens #anyone but you #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #jake seresin #lana del rey #lana del ray aesthetic #born to die #hollywood

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checkeredflagggs · 4 months ago

Text

A Perfect Storm

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: meet dr. alice “barbie” sargaent, professional storm chaser

a/n: so twisters 2024 changed my life (glen powell in wet white T-shirt changed my life) so…here’s this. Also I got conflicting info about instagram so for here - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also plz suspend your disbelief - idk anything about storm chasing or tornadoes

Part 2

drbarbie

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,345,239 others

drbarbie: tbt to the very first storm I ‘chased’ and the lifelong obsession that it sparked within me!

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user1: you were so young!

teammember1: nice to know you’ve been crazy for years! 😂❤️

drbarbie: Passionate! The term is passionate 🩵

teammember2: no I think crazy is better

user2: ok but what are Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri doing in the likes…

user3: right?

user4: maybe they watch the Storm Wrangler YouTube channel?

user3: that would be the crossover of the century!

teammate3: awwww baby Dr. Barbie…

drbarbie: I think I made my dad drive around for hours trying to find where the rain was actually coming down

user4: ok that’s adorable

user5: newbie here 👋🏻 why the nickname Barbie?

drbarbie: I’m a 5’11” blonde woman with blue eyes who was in like every conceivable sport and after school program. Some butt starting calling me Barbie as a joke and now people forget my real name 😅

user6: wait your name isn’t actually Barbie? What’s real? What’s fake? Who knows? 🤣

drbarbie: yeah you can blame my twin for that…

loganpriv: you begged for weeks to get a cool nickname and were delighted! To tell people to call you Barbie.

alicepriv: shush 🤐

oscarpriv: oh really?

alicepriv: I said shut up?

user7: you have a twin?!

drbarbie: yup! I’m older then him by about 5 minutes - and I’ve never let him forget it 😂

loganpriv: and another lie! What’s up with that?

alicepriv: I’m gonna tell mom you’re bullying me!

loganpriv: do it! And I’ll tell her you’re lying to the internet

logansargeant

liked by alicepriv, oscarpiastri, and 1,023,677 others

logansargeant: traveling means time to catch up with TheStormWranglers

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user8: you’re a buckaroo too?! Love this!

oscarpiastri: watching the back episodes or the live stream?

logansargeant: back episodes first of course!

user9: ok but they’re both buckaroos too

user10: am i dumb? Buckaroos?

user11: kinda a you had to be there moment - during one of their first live streams teammate2 called everyone on the team buckaroos to get them moving and the fans just? kinda adopted the term for ourselves

user10: ohhhh ok. That makes sense and it’s so cute! Proud to be a buckaroo!

user12: this is gonna be your week Logan!

user13: yeah! Austin has always been really good to you! 🩵

alicepriv: so I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this…

loganpriv: what does that mean?

oscarpriv: Alice…

drbarbie

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 3,677,345 others

drbarbie: isn’t she a beaut! One of the biggest this year and I’m very happy to say Dolly (and us!) survived it!!! The opportunity to quite literally drive into the storm started as a fever dream from a few of the team members but we proved that it could be done. And this now allows us to gather even more important data — and as we always say, you can never have too much data!

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user14: Watching that almost gave me a heart attack oh my god

user15: i know! And they didn’t even give us any warning that it was something they could do!!!😡😢

drbarbie: We apologize! The team had been so excited and focused on getting Dolly ready for this that we forgot other people don’t live in our brains

user14: what even prompted this?

drbarbie: we were hitting bumps in the research process and as we were brainstorming ideas on how to fix it someone said that the easiest way was to…just go into the tornado. We said “bet” then figured out a way to allow us to do that safely!

teammember1: so I’m switching vehicles. I’m staying with the weather van from now on

drbarbie: oh it wasn’t that bad!

teammember1: I have about 200 new strands of grey hairs and a sore throat from all the screaming

drbarbie: like I said! Not that bad

user16: oh so you’re crazy crazy

drbarbie: we’re doing important research!

user17: what even was the point of all this?

drbarbie: my team and I are researching for a way that would allow us to stop a tornado in its tracks. We’re at the point where we can almost completely accurately predict when and where a tornado will hit — which is hugely important! Cause that allows us to save lives. But my team wants to take it a step further — to stop the storms when they do hit! To help protect people’s livelihoods

user17: holy shit! That’s huge!

user18: I didn’t even realize that is something that could be possible!

drbarbie: we believe strongly that it’s something that can be done. And we’re trying everything that we can to make it happen!

loganpriv: what the hell is this?!?

alicepriv: i told you you wouldn’t like it

oscarpriv: yes but there’s a huge difference between not liking it and it being completely INSANE

alicepriv: the theory was sound

loganpriv: this time - that’s not good enough

INCOMING CALL

ACCEPT OR DECLINE

TRANSCRIPT

What the hell Alice? Driving into a tornado?

Oh don’t even Logan! Not when the two of you drive those super speed death traps!

That’s not even remotely the same and you know it!

…I know. Ok I know…

Alice…

Don’t. I know I should have told you before but…

Barbs?

I know you don’t like this answer but the theory was sound. We reached out and talked to like 10 different universities on the best way to modify the car and took all the extra precautions we could. The science-

doesn’t lie…

Haha

…you’re ok?

I think my heart is still racing but yes. And it’s almost done!

What is?

Project Aeolus!

Really?

TRANSCRIPT CONTINUES

logansargeant

liked by alicepriv, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 627,933 others

logansargeant: ahhhh Austin, my home away from home. It’s always good to come back to you — and the people that live there 🩵

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user19: IS THAT A GIRL LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT?

user20: are we soft launching now?

alexalbon: Did you get a puppy?

logansargeant: no 🤣 just pet sitting for the day! This is rascal!

alexalbon: i think it might be criminal if you don’t let me meet rascal!

logansargeant: I’ll ask! But it will probably have to be after COTA!

alexalbon: worth the wait!

user21: rascal? Like drbarbie’s newest puppy?

user22: no but that dog looks just like her new dog and we know that Logan is a buckaroo!

user21: I've connected the two dots

user23: You didn't connect shit

user22: I've connected them

user24: are my 2 fandoms colliding?

alicepriv: rascal!

loganpriv: i see how it is. I come back home and you just want me to watch the little nightmare

alicepriv: rascal is perfectly well behaved! You’re just a bad example

oscarpriv: I’m agreeing with her. We’ve had no problems with him until you came along…

loganpriv: lies and slander. Objection

alicepriv: law and order again logie?

williamsracing

liked by drbarbie, logansargeant, alexalbon, and 4,034,838 others

williamsracing: all smiles here at COTA as we welcome a special guest! Spending the weekend with us is Dr. Barbie, a meteorologist who specializes in tornadoes with a popular YouTube channel The Storm Wranglers!

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user25: DR BARBIE IN THE HOUSE!

user26: this is everything I didn’t know I needed holy crap

drbarbie: it’s always a pleasure to visit COTA! And it’s even better to visit one of my favorite teams!

williamsracing: so glad to have you here!

user27: ok but do you see the look on Logan’s face?

user28: yeah mans in love

user29: or…and hear me out…he could just be happy to meet her? We know he’s a fan of her channel

user28: no one is ever THAT happy to just “meet” a YouTuber, no matter how famous

logansargeant: Glad you could make time in your schedule to visit!

drbarbie: “But it's the Grand Prix!”

logansargeant: “Is it? Who's playing?”

drbarbie: “No one's playing. It's the Grand Prix. I never miss the Grand Prix.”

user28:…ok maybe you guys connected the dots

alexalbon: it was nice to meet you! Didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who had a more dangerous job then race driving though

drbarbie: same! It was such a pleasure — and don’t even. I’ll take my job over yours any day

alexalbon: really? You’d rather drive after and into tornados then drive in circles?

drbarbie: stupid circles! And yes. Yes I would

alexalbon: they’re not stupid!

user29: ok but they’re funny af

drbarbie

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tagged: williamsracing, logansargeant, alexalbon

yourusername: trading in Dolly this weekend for some faster cars! Zoom zoom 🏎️💨

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user30: COTA! I’m at COTA! 🤞🤞 I might get to meet her and get her signature!

user31: oh my god! That would be the coolest thing ever

user32: you’re at a Grand Prix and meeting some stupid blonde is better?

user31: watch yourself! Dr Barbie is about 1000x better then you are you damn mouth breather

user30: mouth breather? 😂😂

user33: cool you’re at COTA but sargeant? You couldn’t pick literally any other driver to support?

drbarbie: and that’s you blocked. I don’t support hate on my page and I definitely don’t support hate against Logan

user31: you said it so well! Supportive queen!

loganpriv: cool your jets Alice. It’s fine

alicepriv: I don’t support hate but I do support bullying your unsupportive twin. Take that attitude and shove it

oscarpriv: sometimes I forget you’re twins and then I see you interact…

alicepriv: you watch yourself too. I’m soon to be in head smacking range…and I’m tall enough to get you

oscarpriv: yes ma'am

loganpriv: whipped

alicepriv: 🤨

loganpriv: 🤷🏼‍♂️

alicepriv: 🖕🏻

user34: ok but why Dolly?

drbarbie: why after the fabulous Dolly Parton of course

user35: you named your truck after Dolly Parton?

drbarbie: she’s had a lot of work done but she’s still the best

user35: 😂😂 icon behavior

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, drbarbie, alicepriv, and 1,208,943 others

tagged: drbarbie, williamsracing

logansargeant: THANK YOU AUSTIN!! P3 baby! AND SPECIEAL THANKS TO MY YOUNGER TWIN SISTER ALICE drbarbie!!!

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user36: SISTER?

drbarbie: yes! He’s my YOUNGER twin brother!

logansargeant: the hell I am!

drbarbie: I HAVE PICTURE OF THE BIRTH CERTIFICATES YOU WET NOODLE

logansargeant: fake!

user36: ok that’s definitely a sibling relationship 😂

drbarbie: HE DID IT! P3!! CONGRATS LOGIE!

teammate1: woohoo! Go baby sargeant!

teammate2: congrats baby sargeant!

teammate3: could you feel us cheering for you baby sargeant?

teammate4: couldn’t be prouder baby sargeant!

logansargeant: not you guys too…

oscarpiastri: congrats man! A well deserved podium!

logansargeant: thanks brother!

user37: brother?!? dots are connecting again!

user38: oh give it up

alexalbon: great race today dude! Congrats!

logansargeant: thank you! You’ll be next!

williamsracing: Congrats Logan!

user39: he saw us shipping him with his sister and said hell no 😂😂

user40: right? Most definitely had to set the record straight!

danielricciardo: good job man!

charles_leclerc: great to share the podium with you!

maxverstappen1: good race!

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, alicepriv, landonorris, and 2,567,432 others

tagged: mclaren, landonorris

oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted today but we’ll come back stronger next week. Congrats on p4 landonorris and congrats to logansargeant on your first podium!

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user41: don’t worry about it Oscar! You’ll get it next week!

landonorris: thanks man! next week will be our week for sure!! papaya rules!

oscarpiastri: for sure! Papaya rules!

user42: it might not have been your week but that overtake lap 12 was INSANE

user43: right? Pretty sure I woke my dog up screaming

alicepriv: it was a good race babe. Glad to have been there to see it 🧡🧡

oscarpriv: you know I always love it when you can come to a race

alicepriv: and you know I always love watching you working for your dream

oscarpriv: 🧡

loganpriv: cheesy

alicepriv: 🖕🏻

alicepriv: anyway…

alicepriv: maybe I can get you to come to my job next? 😆😘

oscarpriv: your job at the universities? Yes. Your job in the field? No way in hell

logansargeant: great race brother! Taking notes on that overtake man

oscarpiastri: thanks Logan!

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, drbarbie, landonorris, and 3,728,899 others

tagged: drbarbie

oscarpiastri: you are the best thing that’s ever been mine

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Part 2

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queenofwands89 · 5 months ago

Text

The Storm Within (Part Two) Tyler Owens x fem!reader

Part 1

Summary: Following the events of the first part, a severely injured Y/N lies in a coma while a heartbroken Tyler waits by her side, wondering if she will ever wake up.

Warnings: Hospital, Reader is in a coma, Fluff, Sad Tyler, Slightly angsty.

Notes: I didn't expect so many people to read the first part, let alone want a second, so thank you—it means a lot. I rushed to write this to avoid making you wait any longer, lol. I'm currently accepting writing prompts for Jake Seresin, Tyler Owens, and Glen Powell.

Enjoy byeeee!

Two weeks have slipped by in a blur of sterile hospital corridors and the endless hum of medical machines. Each passing day is a battle against time, unrelenting in its indifference, and Tyler's world has shrunk to the confines of your hospital room.

Tyler sits by your side, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but refusing to close. He's lost count of the hours he's spent watching the rise and fall of your chest, willing you to wake up. The constant beeping of the heart monitor and the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator are his only companions.

The rest of the storm-chasing team visits regularly, each holding onto hope in their own way. Boone leaves a fresh bouquet of wildflowers on the bedside table every other day, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the clinical white of the room. Dani brings her laptop, working quietly in the corner, refusing to leave until Tyler is forced to rest. Dexter makes sure Tyler eats, even if it means feeding him himself. And Lilly, with her unwavering optimism, often slips into the chair opposite Tyler, regaling him with stories and laughs to keep the darkness at bay.

One evening, as the crimson hues of the setting sun penetrate the blinds, Tyler is gently persuaded by Lilly to step outside the room, if only for a few minutes. The fresh air at the hospital's small garden is a reprieve he didn’t know he needed. He takes deep breaths, trying to shake off the weight that's settled on his shoulders.

As he walks back towards your room, he overhears a hushed conversation between two nurses. "It's been two weeks, and she's still fighting. It's remarkable," he hears one of them say. A glimmer of hope ignites in his chest. You're a fighter; you always have been.

Pushing open the door to your room, Tyler's heart skips a beat. One of the doctors, Dr. Emerson, is standing by your bed, reviewing the latest results. Tyler rushes in, anxiety and hope warring on his face.

"Any changes, Doc?" Tyler asks, his voice barely a whisper.

Dr. Emerson turns to him, a small, comforting smile on her face. "Her vitals are steadily improving. The brain activity shows promising signs. She's still in a coma, but these are good indicators. It’s just a matter of time."

With those reassuring words, Dr. Emerson gives Tyler a gentle nod before turning to leave the room, the other doctor following closely behind. The soft click of the closing door lingers in the air, marking the transition from clinical observation to personal vigil.

Tyler takes his seat beside you, gently holding your hand. "Hey, beautiful," he begins, his voice soft but steady. "I know you can hear me. I thought I'd share some stories, like old times."

He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Remember the first storm we chased together? God, we were terrified but so exhilarated," he chuckles. "The sky was this angry shade of gray, and the wind was howling like it was possessed. We had no idea what we were doing, but we felt invincible."

Tyler's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he continues. "You kept yelling at me to keep the camera steady while you took notes. I think I was too busy being amazed by how fearless you were. The tornado touched down so close, and we got caught in the downdraft. But you... you never lost your cool. You guided us out of there like it was just another day at the office."

He squeezes your hand gently, hoping for any sign of acknowledgment. "Then there was that time in Kansas. Do you remember? We were staying at that run-down motel, and the power went out during the middle of the night. We ended up sitting in the car, wrapped in blankets, watching the lightning storm. You said it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

The corners of Tyler's lips lift into a sad smile as he recounts more memories. "You were always the brave one, Y/N. Like that time we drove into the eye of the storm. Literally. Everyone told us it was too dangerous, but you convinced us, and we did it. And I'll never forget the look on your face when we made it out in one piece."

A silence hangs in the air for a moment, the only sounds coming from the steady beeps and hums of the medical equipment.

"I'm not gonna lie, Y/N. These past two weeks have been the hardest of my life. Seeing you like this... it's killing me. But I know you're fighting. You always do," Tyler says, voice cracking with emotion.

Tyler leans closer, his head resting on the side of your bed. He speaks softly, almost to himself. "You know, Dani was telling me about how you kept her sane during her first storm chase. She said she wouldn't have made it if it weren't for you. And Boone, he's a mess without you bossing him around. Dexter too. None of us are the same without you."

He looks at your serene face, a fresh wave of determination washing over him. "But we all believe in you. We know you're coming back to us. And when you do, we'll be ready with stories and laughs and everything that's been missing."

As the sun sets outside, casting a warm glow over the room, Tyler continues to talk. He recounts every little detail of your adventures together, from the funniest moments to the most heart-stopping ones, painting a vivid picture with his words.

The world is a foggy blur as consciousness slowly begins to seep back into your mind. The silence in the room is broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the medical machines. Your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to open them, a sense of disorientation clouding your thoughts.

As your eyes finally flutter open, the dim light of the room gradually sharpens into focus. The first thing you see is Tyler, slumped in the chair beside your hospital bed. His hand grips yours tightly, as if even in sleep, he cannot let go. His face is etched with lines of stress and fatigue, evidence of the nights he has spent by your side.

For a few moments, you simply watch him. Even in his exhausted state, there’s an undeniable tenderness in the way he holds your hand. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble that has grown from days of neglecting himself. Deep down, an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love wells up within you. You realize now more than ever just how much he means to you.

Gradually, you muster the strength to give his hand a weak squeeze, something to pull him from the depths of his weariness. His eyes flutter open slowly, confusion briefly crossing his features before they lock onto yours. Instantly, his face transforms—a mix of shock, awe, and profound relief.

"Y/N..." he breathes, his voice shaky and filled with emotion. Tears pool in his eyes, and you can see him fighting to hold them back, but it’s a losing battle. As the realization washes over him, that you’re finally awake, his tears begin to fall freely. "You’re... you’re awake. Thank God, you’re awake."

A lump forms in your throat, making it hard to speak, but you manage a small smile. "Tyler," you rasp, the single word carrying all the emotions you can't yet express.

He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing fervent kisses to your knuckles. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so much," he chokes out, his voice breaking with raw emotion. "I thought... I thought I’d lost you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. For everything. For the things I said. I was scared and I handled it all wrong."

You can feel the wetness of his tears on your hand, and it breaks your heart to see him in such pain. Gathering what strength you can, you shake your head slightly. "No, Tyler. We both did things we regret. I pushed you away when I should have let you in. But we can’t change the past. We can only move forward."

He nods, his teary eyes never leaving yours. "We’ll fix this. Together," he vows, his voice filled with a newfound determination.

Your smile grows a bit stronger, as you grip his hand with a bit more strength. "Together," you echo, the word binding the two of you in a promise of unity and hope.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Tyler repeats fervently, his tears now mingling with a relieved laugh.

You can't help but let out a light giggle, the sound so sweet to Tyler’s ears. "I love you, I love you, I love you," you reply, your heart feeling lighter for the first time in a long while.

Tyler chuckles softly, his expression softening as he looks at you. "I think the doctors are going to start charging me rent for how long I've been here."

You laugh weakly, the sound like music to his ears. "Well, as long as you don't start claiming squatter's rights. We might have to evict you."

His laughter mingles with yours, the room now filled with a warmth and happiness that seemed impossible just moments ago. "Deal. I'll leave when you do," he declares, his voice brimming with love and commitment.

The path to recovery will undoubtedly be long and arduous, but for now, the hardest part is over. The heavy cloud of uncertainty has lifted, replaced by a glimmering beacon of hope. The room, once cold and sterile, now feels warm, filled with the palpable power of your mutual love and commitment.

As the rhythmic beeping of the machines continues to fill the background, you and Tyler share a moment of silent understanding, knowing that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them hand in hand. "I love you," he whispers once more, the promise of these words a soothing balm to your soul.

"I love you," you whisper back, sealing the bond that will carry you through the days to come.

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amongemeraldclouds · 7 days ago

Text

sober solutions to drunk discoveries

After a drunken kiss blurs the line of friendship, you and Mattheo get in the way of your happiness, prompting Enzo to play matchmaker.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader

Part two to nine shots of firewhiskey, can also be read as a standalone.

Content: fluff, slight angst, spicy but no smut, characters aged up

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 2.5k words

The faint smell of alcohol invaded your senses, growing more pungent as seconds ticked past. The moment you dared to open your eyes, regret flashed through you along with the bright sun that assaulted your vision, hammering drum beats into your skull.

You shifted, burying your face in the pillow, its softness welcoming you back. Except you shouldn't have spun so fast for the entire world itself spun around you. You could have sworn you've never been caught in a tornado before, yet that's exactly what it felt like.

You grabbed the first thing within reach: a muscular arm. It was enough to steady you, anchoring you in place. In the sudden calm, you could finally hear your thoughts: why was there a well chiseled arm wrapped around you? Why did it feel good? What were you doing feeling up someone's arm?

Oh, this arm belonged to Mattheo Riddle. Words drenched in alcohol dripped into your mind like lazy morning dew, "you don't want to fuck me?" You asked Mattheo last night, your eyes wide and body burning with lust and inebriation.

Now it burned with shame. Forget coffee and tonics. Never underestimate the unbridled force of humiliation to knock your senses back into you.

Not for the first time, you wondered which gods you had angered to have incurred another set of misfortune. It was bad enough to be that heartbroken girl who got stuck in detention, sunk her grades, and nearly got disowned by her parents. You also had to be the girl who practically begged your best friend to fuck you.

You shrunk, cringing inwardly as you inched away from beneath the blanket, careful not to wake Mattheo. You breathed a sigh of relief when you landed clumsily with a thud on the floor. The cool air kissed your skin, reminding you to retrieve your blouse from where it lay crumpled on the bed.

A figure stirred from the other end of the room, a bleary eyed Lorenzo stared at you with his sleep-toussled hair. You instinctively wrapped your arms across your chest.

"You didn't see anything!" You whispered, trying to get ahead of him.

He blinked then repeated your words, "I didn't see anything."

"Stop screaming!" you hissed, moving away from Mattheo, blouse in hand.

"I'm not, I'm whispering!" Enzo shot back, arms raised.

"Well whisper softer!"

You turned around, fastening the blouse back on. You had been friends with Enzo long enough to feel his eyes roll from behind you.

"Just use my coat," he whispered and you nodded.

You turned back, "thank you, go back to sleep. I was never here. I'll return this later."

You snuck off, leaving behind the sleepy boy and the boy you love. It was too early to deal with the weight of your feelings. Feelings were reserved for midnight musings. When the sun was up, you had to lists to cross off, grades to earn back, a reputation to salvage, and feelings to avoid. For starters, you desperately needed a shower.

Enzo looked at the spot you just vacated then watched Mattheo, wondering what happened last night. It wasn't like you to sneak off that way, but he knew better than to get involved. You and Mattheo were bound to drag him into it anyway, the least he could do was be well rested for the chaos.

As he went back to sleep, Enzo smiled. You seemed back to your usual self, if a bit jumpier. It was still a win.

The second the bell chimed, you snapped your book shut and were halfway through the classroom, robe fluttering behind you in style. You were eager to be the first one out so you didn't have to run into Mattheo.

It did not add up. Mattheo was your safe space, your confidant, and partner in crime. And yet, something had changed last night. Insecurities swarmed through your head faster than you could outrun them.

What if Mattheo only said he'd be yours because he felt sorry for you? What if it was just a drunken illusion that vanished with sobriety? What if you were better off as friends? You couldn't risk another heartbreak so soon.

A sudden collision brought you back to the present moment as your books crashed onto the floor. "Sorr-" you started when you saw those familiar curls again. Except you now knew how soft they felt between your fingers and you ached to reach out. To be close to him again.

"Hey," Mattheo breathed out. Your eyes travelled straight to his lips, his usual smirk now skewed and awkward. You already missed how they felt against your lips, tender and wild. Your breath caught in your lungs. As luck would have it, you bumped into the very wizard you were trying to avoid. With all your effort to evade him in class, you had completely missed the fact that Mattheo had been skiving off.

You lowered yourself as a distraction and started collecting your books as you gathered your thoughts.

"Mattheo, I-" you started and reached out when he handed you your book. Without meaning to, your fingers brushed against his and your heart was picking up speed again, drumming to the beat of his name. It was too much to handle. "-have to go." You ended your sentence and walked away, resisting the urge to run.

"You have got to stop torturing Riddle," Enzo plopped down the chair beside you.

"I did no such thing," you shot back, your friendship long past the usual pleasantries of 'hi's and 'hello's. "What's he up to this time?"

"He's been prattling on about you at the Astronomy Tower, an entire bottle of firewhiskey in hand. We've got to get him back down," Enzo explained.

Concern spread through you like wildfire, but you hesitated, your insecurities weighing you down. "I don't know if I'm the one who can help him."

Enzo sighed, "What really happened last night?"

"We maybe sort of kind of," you began, "kissed."

"Fina-fucking-ly!" Enzo slammed his hand on the table, the bang echoing across the library. Annoyed faces were directed at him and the librarian's stern gaze burned through his skull. He smiled at them apologetically, turning on his charm.

"What do you mean?" You asked, bringing him back to your conversation.

"Oh come on, y/n," he rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows you and Mattheo are end game, even Cedric could see it too. Fuck that twat for how he dealt with it, you didn't deserve that. But you and Mattheo, it's bound to happen like snow in winter or snakes shedding skin."

"You did not just compare me to snake skin," you scoffed, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Stop deflecting, I said what I said. He likes you, you like him. I don't see the problem," he opened his hands wide to emphasize his point.

"Great, now I feel stupid," you exclaimed.

"And Mattheo's being a tosser up at the Astronomy Tower, you two were truly made for each other."

"Lorenzo Bekrshire, you're a wonderful friend, aren't you?" You replied sweetly, your words laced with sarcasm. "Come on, let's rescue that wanker."

You slowed as you reached the final steps of the Astronomy Tower, the evening breeze cooling you down while your heart pounded in your chest. There was no backing out now, certainly not after going up those long flights of steps. Your legs were jelly from the effort and the anticipation of facing your fears.

You looked tentatively at Enzo, who nodded his support. Just before you took another step, he gently placed his hand around your arm.

"This is where I'll leave you two to figure things out. Lay it all out and don't hold back. It's good advice for sharing your feelings and throwing up. You'll feel better afterwards."

Your eyebrows crinkled, "but I can't haul his drunk arse down the stairs myself."

"Just follow my advice, that'll sober him up. Except for the throwing up part, that one's for Riddle," he smirked.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Enzo quickly raised his finger.

"No more stalling. Look, I've got this date tonight and I won't be back until tomorrow morning. So have fun, yeah? Tell Mattheo, he better not screw it up. I'm running out of coats." With that, he turned and started walking downstairs.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. It didn't make sense that your entire world just blew up months ago. Being with Cedric felt like a lifetime ago, and there in front of you, was your potential future.

Your heart ached at the memory of your kiss. A kiss more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey in the way it breathed life into your world again. A lonely garden now teeming with the butterflies in your stomach and the blossoming of hope and desire. Feelings you had nearly forgotten about.

You approached carefully, crouching down across him as he took another swig from the bottle.

"Oh there you are again," Mattheo slurred, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Your eyes followed the movement as you resisted the urge to reach out to him and kiss him again.

Before you had a chance to respond, he continued. "Of course you're there too, I was just talking to you here," he gestured to the empty space beside him. "I tried not to think about you, you know? You're my fucking best friend. To which I mean that as a cuss word, not that we're best friends who fuck, because we're not. Even though I want us to, which you do too!" He dramatically gestured to you and that space beside him again before going on.

"But you were drunk and I didn't know if you'd still want me when you're sober. And can I be honest? I didn't want to just fuck you. It sounds crass and I know that's ironic coming from me, but..." he trailed off as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry, look at your eyes! You're so beautiful and for the first time, I don't want to fuck. I want all the soppy bullshit poets write about divine dances and souls entangled. Load of bollocks if you ask me, but it makes sense with you. Why is that?"

You blinked, trying to catch up with his drunken ramblings. "So last night, you didn't think I was pathetic?"

"What? You are many things y/n, but never pathetic," he replied. "Anyone would have broken down if they went through everything you did and I wanted to hold you together, but you just got up. Day after day, you got up and you went on. You cried and you screamed and we drank, but then you went on. Do you have any idea how brave you have to be just to do that?"

Tears filled your eyes at his words. He was always more honest when he was drunk but it still caught you off guard how the boy with dark eyes and a dangerous smile hid an entire universe within him.

"No, no, no, hey hey," Mattheo reached forward as a tear slipped down your cheek. "I always fuck things up, don't I?" He said, cupping your face to wipe off the tear. "This is why we're better off as best friends even though I've liked you for a while now. I'll just drink my whiskey and talk to this imagined version of you."

You suddenly quirked an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. He was so adorable, you hated the roller coaster of emotions you were on but no longer wanted to walk away from. "Can figments of imagination cry?"

"Well they never did except for you, so that's new. Unless..." he trailed off, the gears in his head spinning albeit rusty from the alcohol. You watched patiently as his eyes widened and crimson flooded his cheeks. "You're real, aren't you?"

"Only one way to find out," you said as you closed the distance between you and kissed him. Of course it was a lie. There were so many ways to find out, but fuck it you just needed to kiss him. And there it was again, more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey. It was an eternity you could live in forever.

The weight of the kiss sank deep in Mattheo's bones, grounding him from the drunken haze in his head. Your kiss was sobering and intoxicating at the same time, a delicious cocktail of emotions that far outweighed the experience of drinks and drugs. You may have ruined it for him forever and he didn't mind it one bit.

Mattheo held you close as he kissed you, one hand at the back of your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you straddled him. It was always inevitable, wasn't it? Falling for you. You with your beautiful face, the way you made him laugh, and how he felt at home with you. His heart never stood a chance.

For once, he wanted to move past his flaws and fears, so he could finally allow himself to want you. He felt it with the intensity at which he sucked your bottom lip, asking to be let in. You gasped at his boldness and his tongue darted in to explore your mouth. He may be good at fucking shit up, but for you he wanted to try.

A grunt escaped his throat when you rocked your hips against him and you were rewarded with the growing length you felt in his pants. Your fingers were wrapped in his curls while the other moved around his arm, feeling up his muscles again.

You needed to finish your conversation before you allowed yourself to go further. Reeling in your desires, you broke up for air. You were surprised when this didn't deter Mattheo as he kissed your jaw instead, planting delicate kisses down your neck. You sighed in pleasure, ready to let go of the words, but you needed to reassure him.

"Mattheo Riddle, my sweet Matty, you should know you don't just screw things up. You bring so much life and energy wherever you go and I'm so happy I get to be around you a lot. You're a firecracker, Riddle."

"For you darling, I'll be a fucking nebula," he said, his lips swollen and hair disheveled. You took a moment to drink him all in and admire your handiwork.

Tiny fireworks exploded in your chest at his words and you giggled at how sweet he was when he was drunk, both on alcohol and in love. "Now what was it you told me last night? I'm sober and I still want you so"

"I'm all yours," he completed the sentence, kissing you again.

In between kisses, you asked, "and what exactly did the poets mean about divine dances and soul entanglements?"

Mattheo gave a low chuckle, "oh princess, I'm no fucking poet, let me show you instead."

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

A/N: This is the first time I've written a part two for a fic. Matchmaking Enzo is my fave!

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds fluff

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therealslimshakespeare · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! I’m an environmental eng girly myself so I’m sort of very interested in this (and also a new reader so please bear with me if I’m lacking on some knowledge here). The 1950s were just generally a very interesting time for women in stem/ engineering but obviously not great for equality still. For example, since you mentioned that Lu is from Texas, in the 1950s there were roughly 700 engineers working with the Highway Dpt of Texas and only THREE were women. So I’m curious, how does Lu handle/ cope with being in a field that would have her be surrounded entirely by men? She would very likely be the only women in most of her classes and professional endeavours. And I know you mentioned that when she works on that Twisters inspired Tornado project with those military boys, all of them love and adore her which I LOVE! Because she’s so smart and such a genius so it makes my heart really happy to see that that allows her to command respect 🥰 But in college, how does she manage being in a space with all these guys who might not all respect her (god like uni eng guys are a special brand of asshole, I’m not saying all of them but some…). Because I’m being so real- that is still an issue in engineering and still something that my girl friends and I have experienced/ felt 😅 And then also with environmental engineering specifically a lot of the work is sort of… rural and isolated. Like you won’t be working in a big crowded space a lot of the time. And being with all those guys, (also like… again, college guys are just a special brand of asshole? I feel like every girl would be out of her comfort zone if she were to be around only them, even now) is that something that induces anxiety for her? Does she ever worry that “putting herself in that position” is inviting anything similar to the horrific violence she’s already gone through? And then on the fluffier side, HOW does she persevere?! Because again we know she wasn’t doing well? I get the vibes from the asks that she was genuinely very depressed and not at all in a good place. So I’m just so intrigued by this era of hers. Anyways this is sooo long and convoluted feel free to ignore it haha. It’s just something that is so interesting to me I love this woman in stem so much 🥰 But yeah I’m interested in her college days and how she handles her horrible mental health, a very very shitty boyfriend and THIS on top of it all.

Oh and to add, we know that Ida worries for her often (along with the rest of the trinity), is she ever concerned about Lu being in those sorts of situations? Because Ida has so much complex trauma of her own (remember in Hardwoods how she has that thought that being alone with men is courting violence!!!!!!!!!!!) and she had to SEE Lu being assaulted? Just wondering because I love these two. And the rest of the trinity I guess. I know my parents would be🤧

Aaaaah see now you’re educating me about the Texan engineering!!! Omg that’s so cool. I knew it had to be slim pickings but goodness, three? Yeah, wow, ok then Lu, ya got your work cut out for you. Also, Nonnie, you’re so cool, I feel special for you gracing my inbox 🥰

Oh yes, just from acquaintance I am somewhat familiar with the engineer bro vibe, ha. Having come from the army has to help her a little. So far in the story we’ve focused on all the boys who love and take care of the girls as integrated into themselves, but you know there were the assholes in the 100th about it and you KNOW there were absolute pigs in the stalag, too. So it’s not a fully new issue. But, somehow this is even more secluded, likely? So, it’s intense.

I think she’s already very withdrawn during this era so she’s not trying to make friends with them all, if they’re assholes she does her best to keep her head down and then enjoys smoking them at tests or in the field. If they wanna play a practical joke to sabotage her?!- oh well, they shouldn’t have picked on Bucky Egan’s daughter. But omg, for all these women there’s the question of if they’re inviting that violence again by pursuing these careers and that’s so horrible to even be considered but it’s so real!!! My girl has her brass knuckles though, the (pretty worthless social friends from Spencer’s crowd) and a will of iron. This is the field she wants to work in, she always did and she happened to go to kindergarten in war for it but by god she’s gonna keep at it through college.

Also. Not wanting to fail. I think depressed and miserable as she might’ve been, failing (she’s so like Gale lemme go scream) would be worse than anything that could happen to her while she was trying. She’s so dogged about it, and this is something of her own, it’s not her crew and it’s not her squadron, it’s her. She’s doing this, and she might as well not get up again if she fails, I think is her attitude…when she’s so down, ya know?

Ida…for a long time Ida lives in a world where everyone could potentially be awful. She can’t contextualize it well. It takes a massive toll on her mental and bodily health, that constant alertness and suspicion and stress. Being in Germany likely only exacerbates that, tbh. Nice thought Rosie but, she’s having some severe ptsd just living amongst the language every day. 😭

#those who can #Ida x Lu #Tallulah Smith #Ida Brady

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 4 months ago

Text

Spoiled

pairing: tyler owen’s x f! rich girlfriend reader

warnings: NSFW, 18+

Tyler stepped into the luxurious penthouse, his body aching from a day of chasing storms. The adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he called out, "Y/N? Baby, I'm home."

Y/N sauntered into view, a vision in black lace and silk. Her curves were accentuated by the exquisite Chanel lingerie Tyler had gifted her. With a coy smile, she approached him, her hips swaying hypnotically.

"About time you showed up, storm boy," she purred, her tone playfully sassy. "I was beginning to think you'd rather cuddle with a tornado than me."

Tyler's eyes darkened with desire as he pulled her close. "Watch that mouth, princess. You know I always come back to you."

His strong hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against his body. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off him, his muscles taut beneath his stormchasing gear. She ran her manicured nails down his chest, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it, Mr. Owens?" she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper.

Tyler's response was swift and decisive. In one fluid motion, he lifted her off her feet, eliciting a surprised gasp from Y/N. He carried her to their kingsized bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin as he laid her down.

"I think it's time I reminded you exactly who you belong to, princess," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

With a predatory smile, Tyler began trailing kisses down Y/N's neck, his stubble grazing her soft skin. His hands roamed her curves, savoring the feeling of the expensive lingerie beneath his fingertips. Y/N arched into his touch, her breath quickening with anticipation.

"Tyler," she whimpered, her earlier sassiness melting away under his ministrations.

He paused, looking up at her with dark, hungry eyes. "Yes, princess? What do you want?"

Y/N bit her lip, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "I want... I want you to taste me," she whispered.

Tyler's grin widened. "As you wish."

He slowly made his way down her body, leaving a trail of heated kisses in his wake. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his hot breath fanning over her most sensitive area. Y/N squirmed, desperate for his touch.

"Remember, baby girl," Tyler murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're mine. All mine."

With that, he dove in, his tongue exploring every fold and crevice of her intimate area. Y/N's back arched off the bed, a loud moan escaping her lips as pleasure coursed through her body.

Tyler's skilled tongue worked its magic, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against Y/N's most sensitive spot. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Oh god, Tyler!" she cried out, her body trembling with each expert stroke of his tongue.

Tyler hummed against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body. He gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he continued his relentless assault on her senses.

Y/N's back arched off the bed, her toes curling as she felt the familiar tension building in her core. She was close, so close...

"That's it, princess," Tyler murmured against her slick folds. "Come for me. Show me who you belong to."

With a final swirl of his tongue, Y/N shattered, crying out Tyler's name as her orgasm crashed over her. Tyler continued his ministrations, guiding her through the waves of pleasure until she collapsed back onto the bed, panting and trembling.

Tyler slowly crawled up Y/N's body, his eyes dark with desire as he took in her flushed cheeks and heaving chest. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his gaze.

"You're so beautiful when you come undone for me, princess," he murmured, his voice husky.

Y/N's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she reached up to cup Tyler's face. "Only for you, storm chaser," she purred, her earlier sassiness returning. "Now, are you going to fuck me senseless or what?"

Tyler's eyes flashed with hunger at her challenge. "Oh, you asked for it, baby girl," he growled, positioning himself between her thighs.

With one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, causing Y/N to cry out in pleasure. He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping against hers as he drove into her again and again.

Y/N's nails raked down Tyler's back as she met him thrust for thrust, her body arching off the bed to take him deeper. The room filled with the sounds of their passion skin slapping against skin, breathless moans, and whispered endearments. "Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," Tyler groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. He gripped her hips tightly, angling them to hit that sweet spot inside her with each powerful thrust.

Y/N's head pressed back into the silk pillow, her mouth falling open in a silent scream of ecstasy. "Tyler... oh god, Tyler!" she cried out, her body trembling beneath him.

"That's right, princess," Tyler growled, his pace never faltering. "Tell me who you belong to. Who makes you feel this good?"

"You, Tyler! Only you!" Y/N gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as another wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Tyler's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "That's my good girl," he praised, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

The intensity of their passionate encounter continued to build as Tyler and Y/N moved together in perfect synchronicity. Tyler's strong hands gripped Y/N's hips, guiding her movements as she writhed beneath him. The air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking and the sound of their breathless moans.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Tyler's hair, pulling him closer as she felt the familiar tension coiling in her core. "Tyler, I'm so close," she whimpered against his lips, her body trembling with every thrust.

Tyler's eyes locked onto hers, dark with desire and something deeper. "Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let me feel you fall apart."

With a few more perfectly angled thrusts, Y/N shattered, crying out Tyler's name as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her inner walls clenched around him, pulling Tyler over the edge with her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, groaning her name as he spilled himself deep inside her.

For a moment, they lay there, tangled together and panting heavily. Tyler pressed gentle kisses along Y/N's neck and collarbone, murmuring words of love and adoration. Y/N's fingers traced lazy patterns on his back, her body still humming with residual pleasure.

As they basked in the afterglow, Tyler gently brushed a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "You're incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and adoration. Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and satisfaction.

"Not so bad yourself, storm chaser," she teased, tracing her fingers along his jawline. "But don't let it go to your head."

Tyler chuckled, pulling her closer. "Wouldn't dream of it, princess." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and sighed. "As much as I'd love to stay here all night, we've got your father's CEO banquet to attend."

Y/N groaned, burying her face in Tyler's chest. "Do we have to?" she whined, her voice muffled against his skin.

Tyler kissed the top of her head. "You know we do, baby. Come on, let's get ready."

With reluctance, they disentangled themselves from each other and the silk sheets. Y/N sauntered to her walkin closet, her hips swaying enticingly. Tyler watched her go, a smirk playing on his lips as he admired the view.

Y/N emerged from her closet, a vision in a long, formfitting gown that hugged her curves perfectly. The dress shimmered under the soft lighting, accentuating her flawless skin. Underneath, she wore another set of exquisite lingerie, a secret known only to her and Tyler.

As she approached Tyler, who was now dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, she felt a delicious warmth between her thighs a reminder of their passionate encounter still lingering inside her.

"Ready to go, handsome?" Y/N purred, her eyes raking appreciatively over Tyler's form.

Tyler's gaze darkened as he took in Y/N's appearance. "You look absolutely stunning," he murmured, pulling her close for a deep, possessive kiss. "Let's show them who the real power couple is."

Hand in hand, they made their way to the elevator, both acutely aware of the intimate secret they shared beneath their glamorous exterior. As the doors closed, Tyler leaned in to whisper in Y/N's ear, "Remember, princess, you're all mine even at this fancy banquet."

Y/N shivered with anticipation, knowing the night was far from over.

As the elevator descended, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins. She glanced at Tyler, admiring how handsome he looked in his tailored suit. His strong jaw was set with determination, eyes focused ahead as if preparing for battle.

"Nervous?" Tyler asked, catching her gaze.

Y/N smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Me? Never. Just wondering how long we'll have to stay before we can sneak out."

Tyler chuckled, his hand squeezing hers gently. "Behave, princess. Your father's counting on us to make a good impression."

The elevator doors opened, revealing the opulent lobby of their building. As they stepped out, heads turned to admire the striking couple. Y/N held her head high, feeling Tyler's reassuring presence beside her.

As they made their way through the lobby, the click of Y/N's heels echoed against the marble floor. Tyler's hand rested possessively on the small of her back, guiding her towards the waiting limousine.

The chauffeur opened the door with a respectful nod. "Good evening, Ms. Y/N, Mr. Owens."

Y/N slid into the plush leather seat, her dress rustling softly. Tyler followed, his thigh pressing against hers in the intimate space. As the car pulled away from the curb, Y/N felt a delicious warmth spread through her body, acutely aware of Tyler's lingering essence inside her.

"Remember," Tyler murmured, his breath hot against her ear, "no matter what happens tonight, you're mine."

Y/N shivered, a mix of anticipation and desire coursing through her veins. "Always," she whispered back, her hand finding his in the dimly lit interior of the limo.

As the limousine glided through the city streets, Y/N nestled closer to Tyler, her head resting on his shoulder. The warmth of his body and the lingering sensation of their earlier encounter sent shivers down her spine. She placed her hand on his thigh, her touch both possessive and teasing.

"So, Mr. Storm Chaser," Y/N purred, her voice low and sultry, "think you can handle a different kind of tempest tonight?"

Tyler's eyes darkened with desire as he turned to face her, his hand cupping her cheek. "Baby, I can weather any storm you throw my way," he growled softly, his thumb tracing her lower lip.

The tension between them crackled like lightning, the air heavy with unspoken promises. As the limo approached their destination, Y/N straightened up, smoothing out her dress and checking her reflection in a compact mirror.

"Ready to dazzle them, princess?" Tyler asked, his voice a mix of pride and excitement

“With you by my side, I’m always ready.” y/n said

As Tyler made his way to the bar to fetch drinks, Y/N stood elegantly by a pillar, her eyes scanning the opulent ballroom. Suddenly, a suave gentleman approached her with a charming smile.

"Excuse me, miss. I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. Might I have the pleasure of your name?" he asked smoothly.

Y/N offered a polite but distant smile. "I'm flattered, but I'm here with my boyfriend," she replied firmly.

The man persisted, leaning in closer. "Surely he wouldn't mind if we just chatted?"

Meanwhile, Tyler returned with the drinks, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the scene unfolding. A surge of possessive jealousy coursed through him as he strode purposefully towards Y/N.

Tyler's jaw clenched as he approached, his eyes fixed on the man leaning towards Y/N. Without a word, he slid his arm possessively around Y/N's waist, pulling her close.

"Everything alright here, babe?" Tyler asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N leaned into Tyler's embrace, relief washing over her. "Just fine, honey. This gentleman was just leaving."

The suave man's smile faltered as he took in Tyler's imposing presence. He nodded curtly and retreated, disappearing into the crowd.

Tyler's grip on Y/N's waist tightened. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Bathroom. Now."

Without waiting for a response, Tyler guided Y/N through the ballroom, his hand never leaving the small of her back. They slipped into a luxurious private bathroom, Tyler locking the door behind them.

Tyler's eyes blazed with jealousy and desire as he backed Y/N against the marble countertop. His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into the silky fabric of her gown.

"You're mine," he growled, his lips crashing against hers in a passionate kiss. Y/N melted into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Tyler's hands roamed Y/N's body, hiking up her dress to reveal the lacy lingerie underneath. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he took in the sight of her.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice husky with need.

Y/N complied, facing the ornate mirror above the sink. Tyler pressed against her back, his hardness evident through his suit pants. His fingers traced the curve of her spine, sending shivers through her body.

"Baby," Y/N whimpered, her hips pressing back against him.

Tyler's hands slid down Y/N's sides, gripping her hips tightly. He pressed his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses along her sensitive skin. Y/N tilted her head, giving him better access as she moaned softly.

"Tell me who you belong to," Tyler growled against her ear, his fingers digging into her flesh.

"You, honey," Y/N gasped, her body trembling with anticipation. "Only you."

Tyler smirked, his hand sliding beneath her dress to caress her inner thigh. "That's right, princess. And don't you forget it."

In one swift motion, Tyler pushed Y/N's dress up around her waist, revealing her laceclad bottom. He groaned at the sight, his hand coming down in a sharp smack against her flesh.

Y/N yelped, her body jerking forward. "daddy, please," she whimpered, her voice thick with need.

Tyler's fingers deftly slid Y/N's lace panties to the side, exposing her wet folds. He teased her entrance, eliciting a desperate whimper from Y/N.

"What do you want, princess?" Tyler murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Y/N gripped the edge of the marble counter, her knuckles turning white. "You, Tyler. I want you inside me. Now."

With a low growl, Tyler unzipped his pants and positioned himself at her entrance. In one smooth thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, both of them groaning at the sensation.

"Fuck, princess," Tyler hissed, his hips starting to move in a relentless rhythm. "You feel so good."

Y/N bit her lip to stifle her moans, acutely aware of the party continuing just outside the bathroom door. The thrill of potentially being caught only heightened her arousal.

Tyler's pace quickened, his fingers digging into Y/N's hips as he pounded into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the small space, mingling with their heavy breathing.

"Look at yourself," Tyler commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Look in the mirror and see how beautiful you are when you're falling apart for me."

Y/N raised her eyes, meeting Tyler's intense gaze in the reflection. The sight of them together, clothes disheveled and faces flushed with passion, pushed her closer to the edge.

"Tyler, I'm close," she whimpered, her inner walls clenching around him.

"Come for me, baby," Tyler growled, his thumb finding her sensitive bundle of nerves. "Show me who you belong to."

With a few more wellaimed thrusts, Y/N shattered, biting down on her lip to muffle her cry of ecstasy. Tyler followed soon after, burying his face in her neck as he spilled himself inside her.

They stood there for a moment, panting heavily, before Tyler slowly pulled out. He helped Y/N straighten her dress, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

"Ready to rejoin the party, princess?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

Y/N smirked, running a hand through her tousled hair. "After you, Mr. Owens."

As Tyler and Y/N emerged from the bathroom, their faces flushed and clothes slightly disheveled, they were greeted by the vibrant atmosphere of the ongoing banquet. The grand ballroom buzzed with activity, filled with the soft clinking of champagne glasses and the murmur of conversations.

Y/N smoothed down her dress, a mischievous glint in her eye as she glanced at Tyler. "Think anyone noticed our little... absence?" she whispered, her lips curving into a sly smile.

Tyler's hand found the small of her back, his touch possessive yet gentle. "Let them wonder.” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

hope you enjoy bb’s <3

#tyler owen’s x you #tyler owen x f! reader #tyler owen x fem reader #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owen’s #tyler owen x reader #tyler owens x reader #tyler owen #tyler owens #twisterfanfiction #twisters #glen powell x reader #glen powell

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skiiyoomin · 9 months ago

Text

ʚCont: none, just tooth rotting fluff, gender neutral

⤑Back to navigation

a/n this is just a short little drabble i made cause Kiri has been on my mind all morning thanks to the most adorable fanart i saw 🥹

If anybody asked Kirishima what one of his favorite moments with you is, he´d say it´s the little domestic routine the both of you created.

It didn´t take much to convince him that splashing water on his face and spraying 10 kilos of Axe deodorant wasn´t an actual skincare routine. Then again, he always gives in to you and to him your word is the law. If his pretty partner said he needed a real skincare routine, then that´s what he needed, no questions asked. But...what does he even have to do? He has no clue what each product is for, what order it goes in, he´s watched you do this millions of times, why can´t he remember? is-

"Baby, sit down please"

Your honey sweet voice snapped him out of his stupor, and obediently as always, he sat down on the vanity chair. His eyes were wide open and following your every move as you grabbed the countless bottles of god knows what. Whatever nerves he felt immediately eased away when you turned to him with that giddy smile on your face he loved so much. Oh how down bad he was for you.

You placed a beauty band on his head, pushing back his red hair that you loved running your hands through, though he´s sure he loved it more than you did. His eyes fluttered close when you began applying the products, your hands patting his skin gently.

He felt the liquidy coolness of the serums, and the hydrating feeling of the lotions and creams. He lost track of time, had it been 10 minutes? 5 minutes? Well, either way, he didn´t want that moment to end. The feeling of your soft hands touching his face in the softest manners made him feel like he could drop fast asleep right then and there.

The sound of your giggle made his eyes open once more, a sweet smile tugging at his lips. "What´s so funny sweetheart?" He asks, resting his hands on your waist and instinctively pulling you close.

You giggle once more, your own hands finding purchase on his jaw and tilting his head up. He looked up at you like you were his whole world, and you couldn´t help but feel your heart swelling with adoration for him. Your body answered before your mind could even think as your head tilting down to kiss his soft lips. He was always fully convinced your lips were an addiction, because when you began to pull away, he quickly leaned up chasing after your lips. A few more pecks afterwards, you fully pulled away and smiled down at him with the softest look in your eyes.

"I just think you´re cute"

Is it normal to feel so giddy inside? Well, he doesn´t really care.

"Me? Cute? You got that wrong, you´re the cute one"

He says teasingly whilst tickling your sides. You squeal and try to pull away from his touch, but alas, all those hours at the gym weren´t for nothing. The joyous sound of your laugh made Kirishima feel like he was in heaven, a laugh errupting from his own throat.

"No! You´re cute!"

You scream out between laughs and squeals. His strong arms engulf around you and pick you up with ease, carrying you over his shoulder. He spins around until you screech. "Put me down put me down!"

He gently sets you back down on your feet and cackles at the way your air looked like it went through a tornado and the way your cheeks were flushed. He leans down to press kiss after to kiss to the soft skin of your face, murmuring in between "You gonna admit you´re cuter? Or you wanna be a sack of potatoes again"

You giggle at the ticklish feeling of his skin on yours. And as prideful as you were, you in fact did not want to be slinged around like that again. "Fine fine"

"Good" He says, pulling away and giving you some space. Wrong move, because in that small space, you quickly ran off while waving your crossed fingers around "I lied!"

It didn´t take long for him to snap out of it and quickly chase after you. Oh you were so going to pay for that.

Yup, these were definetly his favorite moments with you.

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ssentimentals · 1 month ago

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Hii <33 can i req 38 from hurt prompts with mingyu?

Love your writing! 💕

hi <33 thank you, that's so sweet! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt prompt: 'don't yell at me.'

sometimes emotions run high and there simply is not enough time to let the steam off in a healthy way; sometimes you can't help but let your frustrations climb up high in your throat and spill out in form of harsh, petty, very not pretty words that you always end up regretting afterwards.

'we should stop this now,' mingyu interrupts your rant, keeping his voice calm and collected even though you can tell that he's shaking with anger. 'before it escalates. it's no good for either of us. let's just come back to this tomorrow, okay?'

the notion of just leaving this now sets you aflame. you don't feel like you contain all of these emotions within you till tomorrow; not when they are practically burning you up from inside. and mingyu's calm voice only sets you off even more, because his calmness doesn't match the tornado inside you and before you can even think it through, you're practically shouting: 'kim mingyu, we are talking about this now or we are not talking about it at all!'

your sense comes back to you only when you hear his icy tone which she never uses with you: 'don't yell at me.'

you blink, breathing heavily. it feels like your heart is about to jump out of your chest with how hard it's beating but mingyu's tone serves as a cold shower, cooling you down. you open your mouth, but mingyu interrupts: 'if you're about to yell again, i will leave. baby, i love you, but we are not speaking to each other like that.'

which is - fair. it takes an incredible effort to compose yourself, but you manage to wriggle out sharp: 'i'm sorry', which didn't sound very sincere, but you tried at least. mingyu watches silently as you battle with yourself and then hits you with the words that shatter your heart: 'this is not us. you and i, we don't talk like that. we are never like that with each other.'

it works better than anything else would have - you stop pacing and stare at him dejectedly. this time when you apologize, it's quiet and sincere and mingyu nods, knowing you mean every word. 'tomorrow sounds good,' you whisper, not knowing how to face your emotions or mingyu right now. 'i'll call.' and then you add: 'this is not us.'

he nods. before leaving, mingyu steps closer and gently kisses your forehead - an action that brings tears to your eyes. 'i'll be waiting for the call, babe. we are better than this, okay? we'll figure it out tomorrow.'

you nod, hoping and praying to god that he is correct.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen reaction #seventeen kim mingyu #kim mingyu imagine #kim mingyu x reader #svt kim mingyu #svt mingyu #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu x reader #svt mingyu imagine #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen prompt

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themareverine · 23 days ago

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Closer to Hell | shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: He may be five inches closer to hell than she is, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch.

warnings: flirtation, short king!Logan (don't come for me), ogling, eye candy, absolutely nothing else but filthy thoughts, maybe some eye fucking.

a/n: it's my 100 celebration fic, yay me! i recently rolled over to 110 i think during the holiday, and i wanted to do something super fun for my 100 celly. i decided to play with comics-accurate, short king Logan, because i feel like we really don't appreciate him all that much. a small part of my brain hasn't stopped thinking about him. thanks to all my followers, you guys make me possible on this website, and without your interaction and all your fun stuff, life really would be so much more boring.

“Monkey Shoulder, neat—if you got it.”

Fingers pause, hovered over a tablet that looks as if it’s been to hell and back, only to survive the purgatory that is staring into the bartender’s face. Maybe forties, gray has overtaken the once-striking ruddiness of his beard, crows feet all but eating the templepieces of too-thick glasses perched on the end of his nose.

Once gawking at her has clocked enough time, he bats aside the tablet, the screen swiveling away, maybe in relief.

Curious if he’ll actually serve the scotch—it’s about the fourth bottle from the left of the very back row of liquors lined against the mirrored wall, not a cheap bottle by any means. Hardly top-shelf, either. An unusual request, sure, but, she’s always made a habit of trying out the screwy names when she’s traveling—and in this dress, in this bar, well. Exceptions certainly can’t be made. Cool vinyl of the barstool’s plush nips at the back of her legs as she plunks down, docking her heels on the bottom rung of the stool.

“Whatever you say, swee’heart,” gaps in his teeth make pronunciation difficult, but he nods at her respectfully. Lithe, practiced grace turns him aboutface on his heel, short fingers plucking the bottle from that very back shelf. Mirrored reflection reveals a popped brow of we’ll see how this goes. Giving the bottle a little swirl, the copper liquid spins a tornado, wild and dangerous in its glass prison. Unstops the bottle with a jerk of his wrist, the little pop tipping up the corner of her lips.

Seconds, maybe, and the short glass plunks down in front of her, untouched scotch all but begging to be acknowledged. Her finger lazily traces the rim, even from here she can taste the bark of the liquor, how it hums. Warm and biting, her chest flutters with anticipation—of all the drinks she’s sampled over the years, scotch is a favorite. Next to whiskey, but, whiskey she’s had plenty of the last few days. Scotch will be a nice tamer, something to shake up the night—shake up the thoughts burrowing trenches through the arteries and cavities in her chest.

Sliding him her credit card, it’s plastic bites against the bartop. Watching him log the number, he hands it back. She buries it against the band of her bra, against her sternum. Eyes rolling, the bartender trudges away as if he’s witnessed some great atrocity, down the other end of the bar—takes an order with hushed whispers, leaving her to eyeball her scotch in solidarity. Silence.

Friday and however much this dress would all but stand up and demand attention, she’s alone. But that’s no great sorrow—to be alone and actually let it eat away at the marrow in her bones would mean it is unwelcome, unfamiliar. Solo is all too familiar, rent free on her person–the devil and angel parked on either shoulder, guiding her through moments. It’s been this way her entire life, sparkling personality and sunshine attitude aside. Loudest wallflower to ever exist, perfectly forgettable—she’s great company when she’s seen, otherwise all too invisible. It’s learned behavior, expected of society’s less fortunate.

A quick flick of her foot has the barstool swiveling, her elbow parked on the bar behind her. Eyeballing the room quickly reveals that, wallflower that she is—she’s an overdressed one, at that. And she could, probably, forgive herself. Hadn’t exactly expected Mulligan’s to be an axe-throwing venue, complete with Toby Keith on repeat and flannel-clad lumberjack wannabees and their buckle bunnies—axe bunnies?

A sip of the scotch has her nose scrunching a little, the splash in the back of her throat almost hot, even at room temp. Two lines to her right, a cute blonde does one hell of a job playing dumb as her date comes up behind her, helping her take stance. All but popping her ass back into his pelvis, there is not a stitch of air between them that could be breathed—he’s a little unbalanced. Probably that last Coors, she’s giggly and her face is red as a beet. Probably one too many Mich Ultra’s. Together they crack up into laughter, before she actually makes an attempt to throw an axe, dressed in cutoffs and a flannel shirt a size too large, knotted off at the midriff.

Maybe should’ve Googled that one pre-game, but, as her grandmother had always chided, Better to be overdressed than under, baby. Besides, a little black sundress was acceptable just about anywhere—the heels could be overdoing it, though. Down goes another bite of scotch, and she’s perfectly content to watch blondie and her backwards-ballcap date tiptoe around the goings-on of pre-sex, until movement to her left catches her attention.

Pool tables racked with activity, there couldn’t be one more girlie in tight jeans or shorts leaning over green felt if the men had decided to make room. Each man at the table sports arm candy, some even two, full peacock with open chests and lifted chins. Stetsons, ballcaps, even a few beanies make a fine cocktail of male specimens, all bullshitting around ripped up pool tables and scuffed wooden floors. Beer bottles, pint glasses, liquor mottles here and there, hanging out on tables and pool table edges like trophies. Evidence of presence, of time spent. Side-eying the exchange of money isn’t difficult—they make a show of it, as if this is theatre. Shifts on her barstool as their jibes and shoulder-claps get a little more elevated, a little more colorful.

Too absorbed in watching the flock of men around the pool table, she misses the slight creak of a barstool accepting weight to her right. Jumps a little when the air bristles beside her, signaling a new body—someone else at the bar, too close for comfort. Too close to be ignorant. Especially when there’s nobody at the bar, taking up air. Just her and her simple Monkey Shoulder, just her and the defeat that sinks her shoulders a little as realization hits.

She doesn’t have to check if it’s a man—his presence is overwhelming, almost dizzying. Masculine and purposeful, but not in a way that sends shivers down her spine. A quiet kind of energy, like the air before a storm. Unmoving but oh so deliberate, ripe with power. As if any moment something may collapse in on itself, rip open the air—but chooses, instead, to prowl. Like a tower, overlooking, but not imposing. Temperature, too, has spiked—whoever has just parked beside her ripples with heat like an inferno, it’s nearly tangible against her skin. Thick cologne swirls, a delicious idea beneath her nose that smells like musk, pine. Sweat and smoke–exhaust. Bike, maybe.

Unsure whether the flush lifting from her breastbone to her cheeks is the scotch or the newcomer, she uses her foot to swivel back around, leaning forward to rest her arms over the bar. Thin glass between her fingers rings a little as her nail tick, tick, ticks against it, and staring into the coppery swirl of booze allows her a little bit of a casual side-eye to the man who has parked himself at her now eleven o’clock.

Hair the color of midnight is full and thick, almost tinges a bit of sapphire under the fluorescents that dare to flicker a little above them. Even beneath full mutton chops, she can see the sharp line of a jaw—strong nose, purposeful brow. A striking profile, as he stares at his hands—thick hands, strong. Massive, more paw than actual hands, if she were poetic about it. Calloused, even from here. A troop of ebony hair forests his arms, thick and wiry—does little to hide the absolutely godlike muscle that all but stands up and demands recognition.

Arms no less than small trees, her eyes zero in on his veins, veins that may as well have their own ZIP—if careful, she could watch his blood actually current. Count the flutter of his pulse—intrusive thoughts win. She would give limb, soul to just hook up him to an IV and drink of whatever raw sexuality God had poured into his form.

It’s easy to take in the rest of him—thick chest, well muscled would be an insulting adjective. She wouldn’t believe, for a moment, there was a percentage of fat on his person, not the way his jeans clung to his thighs. Unaware they made belts so small for adults, she’d never seen a narrower waistline. And abdominals—God Himself had only crafted those, broke the mold. Even from beneath whatever sad excuse of a threadbare black v-neck he’d thrown on this morning, they were washboard. She’d bet her life.

Oh my god, of all the men—

And just as quickly as she’d ventured off into whatever pornography such a man conjures up into brainspace, he shifts a little. Situates himself on his barstool—sits back, hand on his thigh, other draped along the bar easily in that only-a-guy way. And her gut all but plummets into hell between her feet—the floor could be stained with her own blood and she wouldn’t have flinched. What’s-his-name commands every molecule between them, could split atoms with his raw sexuality, probably. Every movement is like living color, and she swears to God she can feel her ovaries kicking into overdrive.

Eyes snapping back to her own feet, she rocks her heels back on the barstool’s rung, bottom lip rolling inward to consider just how flushed she felt. Heart hammering the marrow in her bones, she can all but taste the sweat that’s racing down the river of spine, dampening the delicate lace of her panties. Blinking, she manages a steady breath between her lips, trying not to think about the bite of scotch lingering on her breath. Aware that her hands are shaking, she knocks back the rest of the scotch. Cracks the glass back to the bar’s wood all too aggressively.

Somehow the bartender materializes in front of her, like Houdini. Or maybe Satan—she hasn’t decided.

“What’re you having again?”

If it's even possible to forget, she isn't sure, but her eyes connect with his. Thankful for the distraction. Movement to her eleven o’clock signal fires in her brain—her partner at the bar has, without saying anything, entered this conversation. Or, at the very least, made himself aware.

“Monkey Shoulder,” she brushes some curl behind her ear, “neat. Double it, please.”

It’s too fast, too nervous to be genuine. But it is, and of its own volition, her spine straightens a little. As if such a thing is a sin—shoulders fall back, her gaze drops to her hands. Bartender all but plucking the glass from between her hands, he travels back down the bar—retrieves the bottle, which he has somehow managed to forget. She watches him go like a desperate child, all too aware that the man beside her’s eyes have raked down her form, considering. Up and down—her heart flies, almost out of her chest.

A barstool creaks, and it isn’t hers. Oh god.

There’s always that little something that strikes the air—he’s going to say something. Her eyes flutter closed, imaging his lips parting and closing off syllables and consonants, forming words. It’s a delicious little thought that quickly ventures into ratings not suitable for children, and she has to bite the inside pocket of her cheek to anchor her back into the reality of the bar—because she’s, very suddenly, not here. Not as present and accounted for as an unescorted woman drinking should be, God help her.

Scotch appears before her almost fantastically. Reaching for it, the glass suddenly is heavier than the earth between her fingers as she knocks it back, entirely. In one sharp, flaming go. It spins her senses in a tilt, and the world all but flips—managing the glass back to the wood somehow, she anchors herself. Two hands on the edge of the bar, white knuckling for purchase. Eyes pinched so tight she can feel her mascara brushing against the sensitive skin beneath her eyes, she releases a low growl that’s more of a moan than anything.

“Now there’s someth’n you don’t see everyday,” a dark, wolfish chuckle. “Don’t think I’ve seen a lady down two scotch’s back to back without breathin’ before.”

Mother of God, it’s low. And dangerous. She wouldn’t have heard a nuclear explosion if it had detonated directly to her left, the immaculate conception had only ever been so beautiful. And if he’s tagged anything on to his statement she’s missed it, blood galloping through her ears at such a rate it should alert the Kentucky Derby to put her at the starting gate.

A steel beam would’ve been preferable to the heat dropping into her spinal column, his chuckle rattling low in a way that, obviously, is deliberate. And she’s more bolt upright than she has ever recalled in her lifetime, soldiers would patent whatever form this was for their ranks—he shifts on his barstool to face her, and she’s suddenly Icy Hot all over. Simultaneously hot and cold, shivering and flaming—Antarctic air and Vesuvius smoke. Words lap her brain like a pace car, but none form in the back of her Sahara-cracked throat.

Blanking, first she stares at the empty glass between her fingers. Then to the stranger, who’s arm rests along the bar like it was designed for him. Spider to the fly, the little smirk tugging up the corner of his lips gets lost in the dark hairs of his beard and chops, the swirl of shadow that chases light in his eyes like nightmares. All kinds of predator, she doesn’t miss his eyes flicking over her—it’s quick, practiced. You’d miss it if one wasn't looking, but nothing about this man could be ignored. He demanded to be seen, though she suspected by the cool smile and the dark clothes, he would’ve preferred to be anything but noticed. But such beauty demanded attention, otherwise heaven lied.

Realizing the conversation is open, he’s waiting, she tracks his words. Again.

And again, and again.

Swallowing the slight shake to her confidence, her eyes track back to the glass. Hone in on tracing her finger along the rim. And she ignores the souring, burning liquor in the chasm of her gut where the scotch has hit nothing but open air, maybe stones in the base of her that maybe only God could see.

“Oh.” Oh? OH? Coma patients showed more promising signs of life. “Guess you’ve seen it all?”

Oh my god, ohmygod, OHMYGODDD—

She couldn’t have been any more pathetic if she’d melted into the floor at his feet. Channeling the tremble of thinking into her hands, she nudges the glass away. Pulls it back. Plays with it like an amused cat with a toy, trying to decide if it’s friend or foe—if it's worth the distraction. A flick of her eyes back to the stranger and she suddenly realizes this glass is the only tether she has to the present world beyond this conversation—her only confidence. The only thing giving her an edge.

And should it be ripped from her, she’d be nothing but a fish out of water—a fat trout gasping for air.

“Not quite,” whatever he’s drinking, he tosses it back without hesitation. Line of his jaw twitches as the liquor registers, but not in an unwelcome way. “Haven’t seen you before.” Vanishing down the long line of his throat without so much of a flinch, he savors it—his tongue chases whatever lingers in his facial hair. The sight of his tongue, flat and wide, sends her gut twisting into thick knots she can’t even fully describe—his hand moves to smooth over his mouth, as if he’s combing his goatee back into place.

Without thinking, “Well, here I am,” slips past her lips, matching her arms that open at either of her sides, as if putting herself on display. It’s bolder and far more brash than she could ever credit herself with—Monkey Shoulder. It's booze.

He chuckles, pleasantly she thinks. “Here you are—lucky sonuva bitch, aren’ I?”

And without warning, he gets up.

Uncertain what surprises her first, she blinks at him a few times, fluttery lashes drinking in his presence on two feet—he’s short. Like, short short. Not-your-typical-guy-levels of short. Built like a god, maybe closer to a brick house, but he’s at least five inches closer to hell than she is—and she’s five foot eight. Makes up for it in presence, though—if he’d been any taller, people would jump under tables.

Alarmed by the sheer weight of him taking up space, the corner of her mouth lifts a little in a smile. If it’s a confidence killer she wouldn't know, he shifts his shoulders like any man does. Chin leveled with the floor, his eyes catch with the same fierce confidence of any man she’s ever witnessed. Unable to tear her eyes away, the muscle in his forearms twitch alive as he smoothly goes for his jacket, drapes it over an arm.

Christ alive, he is—wow.

God’s perfect design, she thinks—he knuckles his glass a little closer. Glass rakes across the bar in a little song, he swings a thick leg over the barstool directly next to hers. Nothing but air between them, now, he sinks low, and she enjoys watching him do so—how his jeans pull just so along thick thighs. How how chest flexes as he angles to drape his jacket along the bar, how thick fingers card through hair she could covet the rest of her living daylights. Closer, she can feel his heat, his masculinity ebbing like an alive river, trailblazing new paths. Looking for her, reading the moment.

More like a predator than she realized first blush. Biting the corner of her lip, his gaze flicks over her a third time. She matches his effort. Much goes unsaid for a lot of moments, until he introduces himself—Logan. No other name would suit such a man, she thinks—within heartbeats her own name slips between them, between the lines of his popped brow and the question he asks next.

“You drinkin’ alone, darlin’?”

Nudging her empty away, Logan offers her a quicksilver look, hooded eyes and a cocked back expression that’s easy, collective. Nonplussed, like this is easy—like it isn’t rattling every bone in her body, taking inventory of every organ and cell raging like wildfire in her veins. Expectation brims, and she lifts a flirtatious shoulder, looking from his hand that lingers on the bar back to his eyes—and they are dark eyes, eyes that belong to only one kind of man. The type of man her daddy had warned her about, that daddy’s all over God’s creation sat up with shotguns over.

Lovely, focused eyes. Logan knew exactly what he was doing. Few others were such masters.

“Should I be?”

Wrinkles that form along his eyes when he smiles are criminal. They belong, she thinks—he wouldn’t be right without them. “Would be worried if you were,” flashing two fingers at the bartender, his eyes move back to her, taking in the full scope of her features, “‘n my experience, pretty girls need someone t’stave off the wolves.” Chin lifted in the direction of the pool table trips her gaze to follow.

He thinks I’m pretty—and that’s newsworthy, stop the presses.

Nodding slowly, she fights back a smile. “Ah. I see,” angling to tuck a foot behind the other, her elbow props on the bar, chin in the heel of her palm, “and who’s to say you aren’t a wolf, Logan?”

A tease, of course, but the way his gaze snaps back to her so quickly, one would’ve assumed she’d reached out and slapped him. Darkness through his eyes briefly rustles alarm down her spine, and her hand gently moves to retrace the rim of a refreshed glass as silence crescendos between them. Her anchor, again. A tether to reality, to anywhere beyond the depth of the window's to his soul.

Knocking back another sharp drink, he rolls a shoulder. “Not really a wolf,” his nose wrinkles a little as he shakes off the idea, eyes moving back to hold hers, “pack animals. Too much competition,” shrugging a shoulder, he chuckles, “besides—too short t’be a wolf, too close to hell. More like a—well, more like’a wolverine, I s’pose.”

And that makes her giggle, like a child.

“Wait—a wolverine? Aren’t they weasels?” Her head cocks to the side, genuine curiosity wrinkling her nose—he smiles, quicksilver that’s cool, cuts down to parts of her she wouldn’t share elsewhere. Heat rises to her cheeks, deepening the makeup she’d been so deliberate to place earlier in the evening. “How is that better?”

Dissolving into giggles isn’t her style, not usually—but it’s too comedic a mental image to set aside.

“Brought out that smile, didn’t it?”

Oh.

She hums, nodding. Tries to hide the fluster of color sneaking up her breastbone to her cheeks. Fails.

“Charming, aren’t you?”

“It’s the scotch.”

She laughs again, shaking her head. Turns back to the bar, too flushed and girlish to take him seriously—or the weight of his eyes. They bore into her side profile like drills, lapping up the heat on her face. Any second now he’ll come to his senses, she thinks. Conversation would fall flat, too embarrassed to speak and too innocent to flirt—he’d tire of the doe eyes.

They always did.

Thunk thunk thunking axes hit home on targets far behind them, almost a world away.

She tracks, too sharply, like a desperate animal Logan getting up from his barstool—here it comes. Fishes his wallet from his back pocket. Withdraws more than enough money, actually more money than would be necessary for the entire night. Tosses it on the bar like it’s easy, like it means nothing.

Watching him, chin still in hand, he works into his jacket like guys always manage—in a sexier way than necessary. Pops the collar. He may be five inches closer to hell, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch.

Tossing back the rest of her scotch, she inhales a deep breath through her nose. Enough to swell her chest, pull her guts in tighter than she thought possible. Disappointment bleeds like a gunshot wound into her chest, mingling with her ribs, and she wills up cold courage. Hands on the bar spin her around on the barstool, lips parted for goodbyes—-

—only to be met with his hand, extended to her.

“Wanna get outta here?”

His brow lifts, investigative. Hers are nearly in her hairline, surprise shellshocked her face like broken plaster. Blinking at his hand, her stomach all but explodes when his finger crooks for her to come, to follow.

It’s a wanton gesture, the way his brow bobs teasingly. Corner of his mouth lifting in a way that’s devilish, almost sinful. Asking where to go is hardly necessary—she’d probably follow him into hell, if so persuaded.

Asks anyway.

“Not sure yet, pretty—but, tell me. How d’ya feel about ridin' double?”

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ipegchangbin · 9 months ago

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Imagine this: Changbin hiding the fact he tried to masturbate thinking his lover was out for too long..forgot to take out the vibrator in him and he tries to lie while holding back the noises..the whole night it's in him moving around and he keeps holding back..but when they are about to sleep his lover asks him if he's hiding anything..this has been in my head and it turns me on

anon. oh my god.

🏷️ sub!changbin. dom!gn!reader. established relationship. sex toys.

it’s so good. way too good to stop. changbin keeps the vibrator inside him while he fists his cock for what seems like forever.

he wishes that the vibrator was being controlled by you, so he recreates your cruelty — and sweetness — by hiding the remote under his pillow while he uses yours between his legs.

but before he could hump the pillow, hell seeps through the crack between the door frame once changbin realizes you’re at the door.

knock, knock, knock.

“binnie, i’m back,” you yawn, stretching your arm as you swing the door open.

oh fucking shit.

changbin isn’t quick enough despite your slow movements. he pulls up his shorts but forgets to turn the vibrator off, so he simply clamps his legs shut with your pillow instead. he looks all sorts of weird, face fully flushed and sweaty, his body covering more than half the bed, curly hair tousled although he hasn’t slept, face shocked as if he didn’t expect you home — though he should have, it’s just that he didn’t check the time.

so much for jerking off. rather, so much for thinking about you.

“how’ve you been?” you tilt your head, curious at your suspiciously flushed boyfriend.

thank god that the vibrator that you got for changbin is silent, but why did it have to be so strong? changbin

“i just…worked out a bit,” he huffs, “uhh, did some cooling down exercises here.”

“didn’t you just come from the gym?”

“i did! and…i was bored, so i did jumping jacks…” changbin cuts you off a little too excitedly.

there’s a star in changbin’s eye when he winks at you as a distraction from the fact that the little toy is fucking him on the highest setting. he struggles not to whine, so he coughs a bit after shooting you a reassuring smile.

you’re not really buying it though, but nothing shows on your face. he mistakes it for the coast being clear. he kind of hopes you’d briefly get out of the room, though.

“oh well. i also have some unfinished work.” you sit down on the edge of the bed beside his legs, reaching for your laptop from your bag. “mind if i just finish this?”

he minds. a lot.

firstly, you look way too hot. you’re just in everyday semiformal, but that’s the exact type of clothing changbin imagined you in while he was abusing his cock earlier. secondly, you’re right there and way too close. it makes the butterflies pool in his stomach, but the butterflies fly in tornadoes until they burst into flames. he figures it’s from both from the close proximity and from the sickeningly unforgiving vibrator.

and thirdly, the said vibrator found its way through changbin’s sweet spot, giving him a full body shiver. you could feel him quivering through the comforters.

“is my binnie okay?”

“i’m f-fine. just tired.”

you silently question whether muscle spasms can cause vibrations as big as that. they could, but not like that. in fact, he shakes eerily similar to the time you tried that vibrator for the first time.

he was a screaming mess. his ass was moving on its own, in the air and quivering from the sensations inside him. he kept begging for you, unclear with what he desired specifically, but you knew that he just wanted you. all of you. he wanted more of what you were doing, whining your name with no aim of a demand, drooling onto the bedsheets while his fists grabbed helplessly onto the pillows as you put the vibrator into the highest setting for seconds on end, making him cum.

it’s too bad he can’t do any of that now.

so he stares. he stares at you and what you’re working on while awkwardly trying to shift positions on the bed. he tries helplessly to stop the vibrator from hitting the spot that gets him cumming the hardest, but it only goes further in. his walls clench and tighten around the toy while he watches your fingers. he catches your reflection in the laptop screen.

he’s so fucked, literally and figuratively.

you look back at your pitiful boyfriend.

the poor pillow between changbin’s thighs and the vibrator is suspiciously wrinkled, but you think nothing of it as your boyfriend shifts his position slightly again. you think he’s just acting naturally cute like this, thighs squeezed against the fabric while the curvature of his ass peeks from behind his hips.

it looks delicious. so plump that not even the facade of his body can cover it. it looks especially full, and you know this even if you’re unaware that it’s literally filled.

you can’t help the urge, and so you slap changbin’s ass.

what a fucking mistake.

the boy’s eyes widen as he successfully bites back a supposedly loud whine. that’s what he thinks, as a little whimper betrays his lips in the process.

but you try to think nothing of it, smirking at him instead.

“so cute,” you coo.

if only he could run to the bathroom without cumming in his shorts. everything affects him to such a high degree that he’s red, warm to the touch, and sweating buckets. he merely digs his head into his pillow and clenches his ass instinctively, hopelessly looped back into the never-ending cycle of suffering that he got himself into.

then you get up from your spot. you slam the laptop down and stretch, putting the device lazily on the bedside table without a second thought. you toss your accessories off and simply stretch your back until it hits the bed, lying down beside changbin.

shit, shit, shit.

“i had a long day,” you start. “can we cuddle?”

“ah, uhm, sure, b-but i’m…a little sweaty and sore, yeah.” changbin fails to keep his cool.

“but we always hug even if you’re sweaty and sore.” you pout and squeeze his bicep. “we even fuck like that.”

god, if you don’t stop talking to him like this.

changbin lets out a small whine, attempting to hide his face in the pillow again. that’s when your suspicion ticks. you could feel a strong vibration against the bed and you’re not sure if it’s your boyfriend or your overheating laptop by the bedside table.

“are you sick?”

“no…”

“then what’s up?”

he looks away and that’s when you notice how watery his eyes are. his face is fully flushed, his ears are red. sweat gets his bangs sticking to his forehead. he looks like he’s quite literally heated up.

and he is. the vibrations of the machine inside his ass heats him up, which doesn’t help his already warming walls. his plush ass keeps it in and the more he involuntarily clenches, the more that he feels it whirring and hitting his insides. it almost hurts but it’s so good, and you’ve been at this for so long but he can’t blame you.

he wants to just admit it.

“are you hiding something?”

but he can’t.

“n-no…”

“binnie, you’re stuttering. you don’t look okay. is anything bothering you?”

he could cry. from the pain, from the pleasure, from the fact that you care so much about him that his heart swells as much as his sweet spot is swelling at this point. he can’t help this insane amount of love but fuck, if he could just turn it off.

but a part of him doesn’t want to.

and when you find out, you don’t either.

you yank your pillow out of changbin’s thighs and the vibrator slips out from the force.

you’ve been thinking about it since earlier: your pillow was sitting between his legs for seemingly no reason. though, you know him better than he does, and you know that’s a sign that he’s horny. he always masturbates with your pillow between his legs. you could only guess why, but your intuition serves you right as changbin stares in horror at the vibrator whirring outside of him.

for some reason, the emptiness of his ass hurts, but your reassuring smile cuts through it as he stares at your face.

“if you wanted me to help, you should’ve asked, binnie.”

#sub!skz #skz smut #sub!changbin #changbin smut #dom!reader #💌 ipeginbox #<3 a lovely anon #💬 z is writimg

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spacealligator · 5 months ago

Text

Uzushiokagure Headcanons

I did a similar post about Kiri and a anon ask got me thinking about making one for Uzushio too! Here are some world building headcannons for Uzushiogakure:

Geography

Uzushio is located in a place with high temperatures and high humidity

likely to be hit with tropical storms, hurricanes, monsons

constant singing of the cicadas as if it's always summer

scorching sun coupled with heavy rain that doesn’t appease the heat

there are no defined seasons, it’s always hot, sunny and rainy

the seas around Uzushio are very hard do navigate, it makes it hard to get to them

the island is located close to the forests of Fire Country coast, so they also have lush green vegetation in Uzushio

Architecture

houses have to be built to withstand recurring natural disasters

subterranean shelters for the tornados, though those also get flooded during the storms sometimes

heavy building materials like stone and concrete instead of wood for example, to withstand the storms

stone also helps with cooling the temperature inside the houses

streets are not paved in anyway to help with drainage, so it's nostly grass and dirt

circular and rounded buildings as a reference to the whirpool also help them withstand the strong winds

People (the Uzumaki Clan)

big chakra reserves, great lifeforce, a lot of energy, long lifespans

they are like that because they are so close in lineage to the Sage of Six Paths

during the warring states era the Uzumaki were known as the people close to the heavens and blessed by the gods

Uzumakis are mostly extroverts and fiery, like Naruto, Kushina and Karin, but Uzumakis like Mito and Nagato, that don’t follow most stereotypes still have that fire burning inside them, they won’t settle, they know what they want, are strongwilled, strongheaded, a bit stubborn and passionate, so really, it’s not because they aren’t loud mouths that they aren’t Uzumakis where it matters

big sense of community and family

even after the massacre of Uzushio, Uzumakis tried to flee together and stick together, building their communities and helping each other wherever they went

Religion & Spirituality

since they have so much chakra and are so close to the gods and the Sage of Six Paths, they're deeply religious people

tons of temples and shrines and little altars spread around the city for a variety of gods

there are small altars inside people's homes too

a lot of rituals bring the Uzushio people together, there are seasonal festivals, parties in honor of the gods, start of harvest season banquets, offerings, weekly meetings on the temple, there are several recurring events linked to temples and gods that make up for most of their social lives

because of that the city is always decorated for some sort of festivities, it’s always very bright and colorful, and even if someone doesn't worship that particular divinity or is not involved in that event, they will still go to the event and celebrate together

Economy

since they're so isolated from a geographical standpoint, trade is not big on the region

no merchant marine or trade routes established with other countries

very closed economy, meaning they had to become self sustained

a lot of farmers between them, since the climate and soil favors tropical vegetation

even if it’s an island, their economy doesn’t revolve around fishing only, because the Uzumakis like their meat, so they also have a lot of cattle, mainly pigs, goats and chicken

they are hired by different villages and people at a very expensive price because their shinobi are very skilled, and an Uzumaki shinobi is never on low demand

shinobi activity is what drives the city's economy

in second comes money from services linked to the temples such as talismans, exorcisms, blessings, burials and others

the money from shinobi missions are reverted to the civillians too, but in general there are no conflict between what civillians want and what shinobis want

Politics

the Uzukage is always chosen by combat, they must be the strongest shinobi in the village at any given time

democratic system of sorts, since at any time anyone can challenge the Uzukage, because they should be able to hold his own, otherwise, they weren't fit to rule the village any way

the challenge is always public, always in form of a battle and always needs to be accepted or you lose by default

there are no main families or branch members like the Hyugas have, the Uzumaki stand in equal footing with each other

but of course there are different groups and parties, with people trying to connect themselves with a poweful shinobi, hoping for them to achieve the position of Uzukage and do their wish

for example, when Uzushio alligned themselves with Konoha there were people in favor and against it, at the time Mito was the second strongest shinobi in Uzushio, so she chose to help strengthen the bond by marrying Hashirama

local politics are not based on blood or lineage, only in power and political opinions

regarding international affairs, Uzushio spent a lot of time defending themselves from attackers

it's mostly an easy thing for them, since Uzumakis are strong and the way to Uzushio is long and hard but there are always constant ruckus on the borders

Culture

wear a lot of traditional clothing due to their religious traditions

people refer to others by their first name, since most of the population comes from the Uzumaki clan, and also because everybody is close and not very shy

they have great handwriting from practicing writing seals and talismans so much

very wary of spirits and respectful of the desires of the land and its creatures

not afraid of ghosts, or the dark, or haunted houses, they are very serious about leading a life in harmony with all the forces at play, including spiritual ones

big on oral tradition and not so much on the written records because: first everybody knows stuff, knowledge sharing is common and encouraged, and second, the elders and professors would live very long, so they can teach the youth themselves, instead of writing it for posterity, and that’s why after Uzushio was attacked, a lot of knowledge was lost

a lot of nursery rhymes, lullabies, supersticions, old wives' tales and popular sayings are passed down to the new generations

they also read cards, stones, tea leaves, stars, palm lines, whatever there is to draw their luck on

big eaters, all that chakra and boundless energy means they need a lot of food to fuel themselves

their cuisine is all about abundance, a lot of protein and fat, always a big volume of food, a lot of seasoning, spices, condiments, and such, loud flavors

they don't focus on veggies, fruits and baking as much as i meat, warm dishes, broth, and of course lamen

they put a lot of meaning and importance in getting together for a meal, it's a core moment for the familiar and comunal lives

the city closes during lunch so everybody can go back home to have lunch with their families and/or friends and be together in quality time

festivals often have banquets or traditional dishes linked to them, along with competitions for the biggest eater, and Uzumaki are very competitive

they're also big in games: card games, mahjong, shogi, go, dominos, bocce, drinking games and so on

there are also games that are linked with specific festivals and times of the year

they're great drinkers because of their big chakra reserves

Shinobi World

shamanism and shinobi activities blur, priests and priestesses make for great shinobi and vice versa

most of the shinobi are sensors, even some civillians are sensors

specialized in sealing

focused on research knowledge about minor gods and yokais, that's why they have things like the reaper death seal and can summon shinigamis and spiritual beings

they hunt for yokais like goddamn pokemon, and the tailed beasts were just an extention of that

when Hashirama sealed Kurama in Mito, the sealing of tailed beasts were already under research by the Uzumakis and she was the one who volunteered for it, they just needed someone like Hashirama, the god of shinobi to activate the seal

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