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briefinquiries · 3 months ago

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Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they��ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned.

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot.

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him.

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season.

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?”

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over.

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were.

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed.

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered.

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile.

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised.

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–”

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly.

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?”

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back.

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open.

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds.

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners..

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back.

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison.

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said.

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered.

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.”

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna.

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled.

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp.

Well fuck me, you thought.

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin.

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler.

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag.

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned.

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy.

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him.

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation.

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him.

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor.

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

…

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did.

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go.

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside.

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses.

“C’mon!” you screamed.

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled.

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately.

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won.

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way.

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!”

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up.

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did.

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again.

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next?

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake.

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath.

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress.

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed.

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything.

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin.

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble.

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry.

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart.

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort.

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could.

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest.

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night.

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not.

“Was I screaming?”

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself.

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth.

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised.

“What?” you asked.

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.”

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly.

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.”

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise.

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.”

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded.

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either.

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely.

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you.

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you.

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it?

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.”

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.”

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed.

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later.

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it.

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased.

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked.

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

#tyler owens #tyler owens fic #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x reader imagine #tyler owens x reader fic #tyler owens x reader fanfic #twisters imagine #twisters x reader #twisters #twisters fanfic #twisters x reader fanfic

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cntloup · 8 months ago

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18+ MDNI Continuation to this Price's Bratty Daughter!Reader x Ghost

After a while, you start to feel some sort of attachment to him, your gaze fixating on him more often, your touches lingering... and of course he notices considering how observant he is.

And unbeknownst to you, he feels the same. But it’s not right. He’s afraid he won’t be able to give you what you desire. Sex is one thing, and love is another. He's a broken man. And he will break you too if you ever get too close.

So he tries to keep his distance. And he gets rougher in bed, trying to detach all his feelings from his actions. He's got you in a headlock as he relentlessly rams his thick cock into your tight sopping pussy, thinking that you’re just a spoiled brat who needs to be taught a lesson.

And of course, he cums inside you again, releasing pearly beads of his cum in your womb, mixing with your cream and leaking out of your abused puffy pussy.

And unbeknownst to him, you’ve stopped taking your pills for a while, thinking maybe with a baby, you could get him closer to you, receiving some sort of affection, something at least resembling love from him.

When you announce your pregnancy, he’s kind of shocked since last time he checked, you were on the pills. But he’s also relieved, “About time...” he mumbles under his breath.

He'd love to knock that bratty attitude out of you. Maybe you start to act more mature now that you’re pregnant.

Also his feelings for you were unbearable as it was, and he was planning to finally confess long before you told him that you were pregnant. But he always backed out at the last second, keeping his emotions sealed off. He's not good for you, he always thought.

But now the thought of your belly swollen with his baby has made him absolutely feral and he can’t keep away from you anymore.

Eventually, he starts to open up and be more affectionate towards you. It wouldn’t be fair to you if he was cold and distant with you in your fragile state. That's what he tries to tell himself, thinking this is not him showing his love to you, but only being considerate.

Once Price finds out that Ghost has knocked you up, he’s furious. But then you tell your dad that you love Ghost and you wanna keep the baby, and he wouldn’t deny his baby girl her love and happiness now, would he?

He begins to think it’s better that it’s Ghost than any of those flimsy boys who always chase you around. Eventually he gets into the idea of you two being together.

Under one condition. You should get married. Ghost is a man who can set you straight. And especially now with a baby on the way, you will finally mature. It's basically perfect for him.

So Ghost starts to think that he may be actually good for you, now that your dad approves. He's perfectly capable of protecting you, also putting you in your place when you act up.

That’s when finally, Simon comes around and tells you he loves you after a night of passion in which he surprisingly was gentler than before.

“I love you.” he murmurs while panting heavily above you, sweat dripping down his forehead, strands of blonde hair sticking to his skin.

You think that you haven’t heard correctly since you’re still lost in your post-climactic haze. But as you gaze into his gorgeous brown eyes, burning love evident in them, you know that you heard right.

“Really?” you grin, tears prickling the corner of your eyes, “Yeah. I fuckin’ love you.” “I love you too, Simon.” and he kisses you oh, so lovingly, completely in contrast to his previous kisses that were fiery and rough.

On your wedding night, he gently removes your lingerie and lays you on the bed. Your baby bump is slightly visible and you lightly nuzzle your palm on it instinctively.

He tenderly trails sweet open-mouthed kisses on your skin, until he reaches just above your tummy and kisses the back of your palm before removing your hand and kissing your belly, “I’ll be gentle, lovie.” he promises, voice soft and soothing as he glares into your anxious eyes and you nod.

He makes love to you for the first time. There's no slamming into you harshly and no bruising grasp on your hips. No, he wouldn’t do that to his sweet little wife.

There's only him softly rolling his hips into you while kissing your lovely lips and tracing his rough hands across your delicate body with feather-like touches.

He's wary of your swollen belly as he splits your tight seeping cunt open on his fat cock. There's the familiar slight sting at first which quickly fades away as pleasure begins to take its place.

He gives gentle languid thrusts as you sob and mewl under him, your nails grazing up and down his muscular back and broad shoulders.

With a soft cry of his name, the burning euphoria of your orgasm rushes through your body, “Good girl. My girl. My beautiful wife.” he praises and his low growl reaches your ears as you feel the familiar warmth filling you up.

A/N: the horny brat taming ones will come back dw :)

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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2-dsimp · 3 months ago

Note

Sneezes aggressively

Therapist who fucks reader after manipulating them(I need like something with a therapist and smut PLS)

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Cw: NSFW MDNI bimbo fem reader! Oral m! Receive, hypnotism, manipulation, unhealthy relationship dynamic, abuse of authority, slight degradation

Synopsis: You were struggling on keeping yourself together. Having no way to hire the best of the so called best to help out with your deteriorating doormat mindset. You found an a lifeline, seeing an old ad trashed up in the garbage bin. Where you discovered the man that would undoubtedly “fix you”

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Yandere therapist! that hypnotizes his darling bimbo into thinking the healthiest outlet to vent out her feelings is to worship his cock.

“Feeling sad? Awe don’t you worry sweetheart I’ve got your favorite lollipop right here! If you suck all of the filling out you’ll feel so happy I promise you”

Yandere therapist! Hummed in a sickeningly sweet tone, unzipping his fly to present his precum covered meat for his darling to binge on. Like you do for every session you guys had together.

Yandere therapist! Who tosses his head back with a low groan as he tangled his fingers into your hair. Looking down at his patient with a half lidded glowering stare. Letting out small pants as he stutters his hips into your open maw.

He couldn’t believe how adorably stupid you were to put your trust in him. He wasn’t even a credible therapist after he had lost his license from dabbling in questionable experiments.

But you, oh poor dumb you, decided to ring up his old business card at seeing the old ads of how affordable his “services” were. And he couldn’t possibly turn such a desperate pretty thing like you away. Not when he’s got a taste of having a little obedient doe eyed slut. Ready to drop on their knees ready for their dick treatment in lowering their stress levels.

Yandere therapist! Who rams his shaft down your throat holding your head so he could spray spurts of his cum down your tender throat. Loving hearing you choke on his length to the point you were clawing at his thighs. Tears welling in yours eyes at the fact that you couldn’t breathe.

“Shh, I’m almost there, breathe through your nose sweetie. Fuck— keep tightening around me. Atta girl~ you wanna be happy don’t you? I know you do. Make me cum and we can both be happy together yeah?”

That day you left the office feeling better than ever at the treatment Dr. Wesly gave you. Of course you don’t remember what happened after he snapped his fingers. As he told you that his methods are a sacred practice. But you couldn’t help but feel how sore your mouth was and roll your tongue at the faint taste of something tangy and bitter stuck in the back of your throat.

Shrugging your shoulders you overlooked it since you were gonna see him again next week. He truly is a miracle worker and you couldn’t have been any more grateful to have him as your aide.

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dilf-issues · 4 months ago

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Vanilla | C.M

Requested by Anon: hey dunno you take requests but since your writing is so hot , I'm willing to ask if you consider writing about roleplaying with Cillian and his wife or gf to break the dull routine they were stuck into , the way he suggested that to her being embarrassed and the sweet moments they ditch the characters in bed. He could bring his characters *cough cough * Tommy shelby. Thank you x

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend, Cillian, finds out you’ve been reading erotic fiction about his character in the Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby. Cillian shows you how much of a great actor he is.

Warnings: Age gap, the reader is in her 20s and Cillian is in his 40s. Roleplaying, extremely rough sex, dumbification, degradation, face slapping, spitting, pussy spanking, oral sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, and a little cnc. THIS IS KIND OF DARK SO BE WARNED. Everything is consented it’s just that... Cillian’s gonna be rough, like ROUGH

Cillian had been busy. He had an upcoming new season this year and his schedule was packed. You haven’t spent time with him in quite some time now. He constantly apologized for not giving you enough attention and promised to make it up to you.

He decided to fulfill this promise.

Since he was the main character in his series ‘Peaky Blinders’, he did have massive privilege in the production. He had never done it before since he had been such a dedicated person to work with, however, he felt like he should sacrifice his work just for you. He wanted to spend the time with you, maybe have some dinner together at a nice restaurant. Just the usual things the both of you would do. Every time he had some free time he would do some nice things for you, treat you like a princess.

He came home from work that day, he got permission to take the week off and he even got back early from set. He wanted to surprise you, he had a flower in his hands a box of your favorite soft cookies. It was all so perfect.

When he came home, he saw that the first floor was empty and there were no signs of you anywhere. He went upstairs since he reckoned you were in the bedroom, probably taking a nap or reading a book.

Cillian was so happy. He was a man who barely showed any emotions in public but with you, it was different. He had a wide smile on his face, ready to surprise you but when he opened the door, he didn’t see you on the bed.

Instead, he heard the shower running and so he hummed to himself, setting the gifts down as he sat on the bed to wait for you.

As he patiently waited, he noticed your phone was still on. You were the type of person to let the screen go on forever instead of turning it off every 3 minutes like him. He glanced absentmindedly as he saw you were reading some sort of story on your phone. His actions were harmless, he just wanted to see what you were reading.

His eyes skimmed through the words as his blood runs cold.

‘Tommy had me bent over his desk, ass red and swollen from all the beatings. My pussy was leaking down onto the expensive wood, desperate for his cock to ram inside me.

“Please, Mr. Shelby, I need your cock!” I plead like a good whore as he growled.

“You are nothing but a filthy cocksleeve”

Tommy? Shelby? His Tommy Shelby? The character that he played?

It seemed like all of the blood started circulating to his face as he flushed at the filthy thing he had just read. Y/N? His sweet Y/N was reading something like that?

Cillian couldn’t believe it because someone as young and pure as he would never be this dirty. Because of their age gap, he saw her as someone that he needed to protect, shield from the rest of the goddamned world. His fragile little princess that he wouldn’t dare to inflict even a slight force in fear that she might break and shatter into pieces.

The sound of the shower became silent and it interrupted his thoughts, he quickly placed her phone where it belonged as he stood up and smoothened the spot on the bed where he sat to make it seem like he just came in.

When you had walked out, it took you a moment to notice Cillian standing there with your gifts but when you did, you gave him a small scream as you ran towards him, your figure wearing nothing but a small towel.

“Cillian?! You’re back? You brought me gifts!” You exclaimed as her wet body embraced him in a hug. Cillian was somewhat still blank from what he was reading earlier.

‘If she had liked that kinda stuff so much he could push her on the bed and beat her ass right now’

His eyes widened at his own thoughts as he tried to push them away, “Yes princess, I thought maybe I haven’t been paying attention to you now have I? I’m all yours for the week, baby”

You pouted as you nodded at him, and then he realized how submissive-looking you were. You had always had a demeanor of what he would expect someone much younger than him to have, however, Cillian was starting to look at it in a new light.

It doesn't help the fact that he still has his Thomas Shelby haircut for the filming.

It also doesn’t help she was almost naked in front of him, he hadn’t fucked her in weeks. It’s almost fitting.

Maybe doing something about it wouldn’t hurt now would it?

Oh... But it’s definitely gonna hurt you...

Cillian watched closely as the girl before him admired his gifts for her in awe. His eyes became more and more lusted as he figured out a way to approach you.

“Love, can I ask you a question?”

You hummed at him innocently as she raised her brows at him, “Anything, Cill...”

“What have you been reading on your phone, hmm?” Her eyes widened slightly as her heart started to pound in her chest. Cillian was looking at her so intensely that it was slightly scary. She didn’t know if she should lie, or if she should tell him the truth. However, since he had asked... It was obvious he knew the truth.

“Cillian I can explain” You sputtered, panicking on the inside as Cillian started closing whatever gap that both of you had, he was looking down on you in a way he had never done before. You felt the chill run down your spine as you felt the back of your knees hitting the bed.

“Explain” He commanded.

“It’s just... You know I love you and you know I should be honest to you no matter what. But... I just... We haven’t been together in a long time lately and even when we do... It’s always the same...” You felt guilty saying this to him, it’s not like he was bad at sex. He was great. However, you were getting bored with the same soft and loving sex you two always had. “I just... I hope you can be a little rougher, that’s all. You’ve always been... So soft”

“Soft... Hm?” He tilted his head to the side as he stared at you almost mockingly, “Be careful of what you wish for, love”

You had felt your heart stop when Cillian’s smooth Irish accent suddenly turned into the dark Brummie accent you had always heard about on the TV. The one you had always touched yourself to when he wasn’t around.

Then out of nowhere, Cillian had roughly pushed you on the bed as you fell down and whimpered softly. He pulled off the towel on your body as you were left naked, “C-Cillian!”

“Who the fuck is Cillian, eh? Have you been fucking whoring yourself out to another man?” Cillian cursed at you as he quickly took his clothes off, “You’re my whore. You’re mine to fuck, you got it?”

Then you can physically feel your gears shifting in your brain, “T-Tommy?”

Your body shivered as you felt yourself getting wet, you were all naked and you were ready for him. You felt your legs spread instinctively as you heard him laugh, “You really are such a desperate fucking cunt, eh?”

‘Tommy’ had bent down as he gripped your face by the cheeks and roughly shook your head, “Who do you belong to? Who do you fucking belong to?”

“Y-You Cill-Tommy! I belong to you!” Tommy smirked, as his hands traveled down to your navel, teasing you as he drew figures on the skin, making you whine, “Open your fucking mouth you dirty whore”

You wasted no time opening your mouth for him, wide with your tongue out. Suddenly, he did the unexpected when he spat in your mouth, “Fucking swallow it, princess”

You swallowed his spit like a good girl as you held out your tongue to show to him, suddenly seeking his praise and validation however it never came. Tommy just hummed as he let go of your face harshly, almost slamming your head onto the plush bedding.

Characters aside, Cillian was never like this. Throughout the year of your relationship, he had always been gentle and kind, treating you like a soft feather and taking care of you. Maybe because it was because he was much older he had felt like he needed to treat you gently. You never realized Cillian had this side to him. He had always had this side, you just never awaken it.

“Spread your legs wider” He commanded, his voice dark as his character, you listened to him, eager to show him you were his good girl as he hummed looking down at the glistening flesh in between your legs. You were so wet it had dripped down and leaked onto the bedsheet. Without a warning, Tommy gives a hard slap to your cunt and you screamed out. You thought he was doing it once but it seems like it came over and over again, beating your swollen pussy and clit until it was throbbing and red. You cried out of pleasure and pain, as you begged him. You didn’t know what you were begging for but it was sure not for him to stop.

“You fucking like this don’t you? Fucking hell, look at you. You’re fucking wet, you like getting fucking beaten and bruised huh? What a fucking whore. You are nothing. You are only good for fucking, you are only here to fuck. Remember that, you fucking cunt”

Tears were flowing down and you were desperate you were so desperate for his cock. After each word, Tommy spat on your body, leaving you all wet and filthy combined with your own sweat and arousal.

“P-Please! P-Please, fuck me, Tommy! Please I need your cock. Please I want your cum. I need it inside me!” You pleaded like a whore as he slapped your face. You moaned out as his hand traveled down your neck and choked it just enough to make you feel the air around you restricting. “Tommy, I can’t, I need your cock”

He scoffed, pulling down his pants as whipped out his cock. It was so hard to the point where it became purplish-red, the veins covering the base as the head leaked with pre-cum.

“You want my cock?” He lined up his tip on your vagina, “You fucking get it you cocksleeve”

Without giving you a warning and time to adjust, Tommy slammed his cock inside your cunt and he wasted no time ramming into you roughly. Not like you needed time to adjust since you were sopping wet. All you can do is choke out his name and moans as he grunts with each slam.

His pace was rough and deep and for someone like hin with his age, he had the stamina to go on and on fucking you so rough till you can feel him ramming in your stomach.

No words could even cum out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back as he fucks you braindead.

Spit drooling at the side of your mouth as you babble like a cock hungry whore underneath him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum and you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna fucking carry my babies, and even then it is not gonna stop me from fucking you stupid”

You could feel him twitching as his thrusts were getting sloppier and sloppier, you could also feel your orgasm coiling in your tummy as you cried out once you let it all go, the liquid splashing all over the both of you as you squirt on his dick.

You were heavily overstimulated and you screamed as Tommy fucked the cum out of him.

The warm seed spilled inside your walls as he grunted in pleasure, leaning down as he bit your neck and drew blood to the surface.

Tommy looked at you all fucked out, eyes still rolling at the back of your head as you continue to babble nonsense to nothing.

He breathes heavily as he lays down beside you, carefully moving your body to cuddle up to him.

“Like I said, my love... Be careful of what you wished for”

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auggieblogs · 2 months ago

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nsfw | mdni | lando norris x fem! driver reader | smut with a bit of plot.

Author’s note: Hiiii, everyone!!! I hope you all are doing good. I am sorry for being mia, I actually started university recently (it’s insane). Needless to say I have a lot on my plate right now, and writing isn’t the first thing on my agenda but I felt weirdly inspired yesterday (i am clearly ovulating). Anyways I hope you like it, happy reading<3

ALSO AGAIN, MDNI!!!! THIS CONTENT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AUDIENCES.

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

You marched down the paddock, ignoring the piercing stares and whispers. Your heart was still racing, not just from the adrenaline of the crash but from the rage boiling inside you. The Baku Grand Prix had gone sideways fast, quite literally, and it was all Lando Norris's fault. Or, at least that's what you convinced yourself to believe.

Two laps in, you collided with him in one of the most reckless incidents of your career, sending both cars spinning out of the race. It wasn't just the crash that infuriated you-it was that smug, arrogant look you knew he'd wear afterward, refusing to accept his share of the blame.

As you stormed up to his driver’s room, you didn't even bother knocking, shoving the door open, fully prepared to let loose. But whatever words you had prepared immediately got stuck in your throat.

Lando was standing there, almost completely naked, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His chest glistened with sweat from the heat of the race, and his hair, a little longer now with a baby mullet sticking out, was damp and tousled. Your eyes raked over him, heart pounding. His body was lean, muscles tense and glistening under the fluorescent lights. His face was a mix of amusement and heat as he noticed your reaction.

Lando raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips as he noticed your staring. "Like what you see?" His voice was smug, teasing.

You blinked, quickly snapping yourself back to reality. No way you were letting him get to you like this, not when you were still so pissed.

"That was a shitty move, Norris," you spat, trying to focus on your anger instead of the fact that he was practically naked in front of you.

Lando's eyes flicked down your body, scanning you slowly, deliberately, making you feel hot under his gaze. He leaned back against the wall casually, arms crossed, his expression smug. "You rammed into me,” he said, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Your fists clenched, and you took a step closer, your rage bubbling over again. "That was you! You cut me off and ruined my race!" you nearly shouted, your voice rising with each word.

Lando shrugged, utterly nonchalant. "Or maybe you just couldn't handle the pressure." He sat down casually on the couch, his legs spread wide as he leaned back, watching you with that infuriatingly smug look on his face. "Maybe you just hate that you'll never beat me."

His words hit you like a slap to the face, but you didn't back down. You stepped closer, fists clenched at your sides.

"You're a prick, Norris. You think you're better than everyone else—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Lando grabbed your wrist and yanked you down, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. The sudden movement made your breath hitch, your hands instinctively going to his shoulders for balance as you sat on top of him, your faces now inches apart.

"You keep running your mouth,” he murmured, his voice a low, “and I swear to God, I'll fuck you so hard you'll forget how to speak."

Your pulse spiked, your entire body buzzing with a mix of shock and arousal. The heat of him against you, the feel of his hands on your hips, sent a thrill through you that had you struggling to catch your breath. But you weren't backing down. Not with Lando. Never.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you shot back, though your voice came out breathless, betraying how badly you wanted him.

Lando's eyes flashed with something dark and before you could react, his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, desperate, all teeth and tongue. His hands were everywhere- gripping your waist, sliding up your back, pulling at the zipper of your race suit until it fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air of the room.

He groaned as he peeled the suit off your shoulders, his eyes devouring the sight of your breasts as they spilled free. Without hesitation, his hands cupped them, squeezing roughly as his mouth moved down to your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

"Fuck, you've got perfect tits," Lando muttered, his voice thick with lust. He leaned forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking hard as his other hand kneaded the soft flesh of your other breast.

You gasped, your back arching as waves of pleasure shot through you. His tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it until it hardened in his mouth, sending shivers down your spine. His free hand pinched and rolled your other nipple between his fingers, drawing moans from your lips that you couldn't suppress.

"You always walk around in that tight suit,” he growled against your skin, his breath hot as he moved from one breast to the other, giving it the same attention. “Do you know how hard it is to focus when I know these are underneath?"

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans threatening to escape as his hands and mouth drove you wild. But you couldn't resist anymore. The heat between your legs was unbearable, and you needed him-now.

"Lando, please,” you whimpered, grinding down against him, feeling his erection straining against his boxers. The friction sent sparks of pleasure through you, but it wasn't enough. You needed more.

He smirked up at you, his hands sliding down to your hips, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles that made your breath hitch in your throat. You moaned, your head falling back against the couch as your body trembled under his touch.

"Fuck, you're soaked for me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is this what you wanted? All that fighting, all that tension—was it just an excuse to get fucked?"

You didn't answer, too lost in the overwhelming sensation of his fingers moving inside you, curling just right, hitting all the spots that made you see stars.

"I asked you a question,” Lando growled, his other hand coming up to grip your throat lightly, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Is this what you wanted?"

You nodded, barely able to form words. "Yes," you breathed. “God, yes."

A smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and without a warning her tore your panties down. He plunged into you. Filling you completely.

You cried out, your hands gripping his back as he set a punishing pace, each thrust deeper than the last. The room filled with the sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he drove into you over and over again. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice rough as he leaned down, capturing your nipple in his mouth again, sucking and biting as he pounded into you.

The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building inside you with every thrust, every touch. You were close-so close-and Lando could feel it. His hand slipped between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he growled against your skin, his pace never faltering. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."

That was all it took. With a loud moan, your body tensed, and the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. Your walls clenched around him, and Lando groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he followed you over the edge, spilling inside you with one final, deep thrust.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you catching your breath as you lay tangled together on the couch, bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all.

Lando shifted, rolling onto his back beside you, his chest heaving as he looked over at you with a satisfied smirk. “Still think it was my fault?" he asked, his voice teasing.

You gave him a tired smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of pleasure. "Maybe we both lost this one,” you muttered, your hand lazily tracing patterns on his chest.

He chuckled, pulling you close. "Guess we'll just have to settle it off the track more often."

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ilylovelyz · 4 months ago

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⍣ ೋ distance

˚ · . giyuu tomioka x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ cheating, semi-public sex, getting caught, breeding, impregnation, unprotected sex, squirting, biting, forbidden love, arranged marriage, sex in a church, jealous!giyuu, this is more angst than smut

make sure to keep my distance say i love you when you're not listening and how long 'til we call this love?

the melodic chimes of a church bell rings loudly, signifying the important event taking place in the spring evening.

families are gathered, sitting down, awaiting for the bride to be to walk down the awhile. they are joyous, so excited to unite both families, especially because allowing their son to marry their own daughter meant a trade of advantages in the future.

your father waits outside the doors that separate you and your groom, awaiting for his youngest daughter to wrap her arm around his, to walk her down the aisle and give her away.

only, he stands alone.

your father awaits anxiously, occasionally glancing at his pocket watch, waiting for your arrival. minutes go by, and you don't show up. it has become clear that you are late, lightly irritating your groom.

an hour passes, and the guests begin looking for you around the church. they know you're there, after all, they did see you arrive. they all look around, wondering where the bride to be is.

but do they really want to know?

hypothetically, what if they see the dolled up bride to be getting fucked mercilessly in her pretty little expensive silk kimono by her ex-boyfriend? that will surely bring shame upon the entire family, ruin any ties they had to any potential wealth that the bride was supposed to be marrying into.

hypothetically.

it will remain a hypothetical scenario as long as you and giyuu aren't caught in such a scandalous position. the position? oh well, giyuu just seems to have your expensive silk kimono rolled up to expose the flesh of your ass, your chest flush with the harsh walls of the bathroom church as he rams his cock in and out of your poor pussy.

giyuu curses under his breath, his hand covering your mouth to prevent your shamefull moans being heard by any potential passerbys.

this is so taboo. this shouldn't even be happening, you should be walking up that aisle, marrying the man everyone thinks you should be marrying. but you aren't. instead you're getting your pussy fucked like some cheap prostitute in a church bathroom by your ex-boyfriend, whom you begged to even attend the wedding in the first place.

maybe that's why you begged him so much to come to your wedding. to fuck you so good that it has you finally growing a spine and rejecting tradition, rejecting your family from basically giving you away just for more wealth like some greedy pigs.

this is so uncharacteristic of giyuu to do in the first place. he likes to think of himself to have morals, to know better than to fuck a soon-to-be-bride. a bride who is already promised to someone else.

and yet, he still came to the wedding. he doesn't even know why. maybe for closure. maybe to be able to see you in a beautiful white silk kimono, hair braided up into a bun, just how he likes it. to see you walk down that aisle to your groom. or maybe it was because he wanted to be able to envision himself as the groom instead.

this is not right. but your family giving you away for their own lavish wants isn't right either. you were giyuu's in the first place, a happy and dedicated couple for nearly 5 years before your father decided giyuu was too low for you and shipped you off to marry another.

maybe this is right, maybe this is god's redirection to let you both know that the two of you are meant for each other.

giyuu bites onto the back of your nape, his free hand feeling up your breast underneath the layers of your kimono. it's hot. it's so hot. and yet, he can't stop—no, he won't stop.

his cock tip hits against your cervix, his nose inhaling your sweet scent. he's fucking you like an animal. like it's the last time he has with you. his touches are almost painful, his strong hands gripping wherever he can. giyuu sinks his teeth onto wherever he can, not caring if your soon-to-be husband sees them when the two of you have to consumate your marriage later tonight.

giyuu feels his jaw tightly clench at the thought, his hands forming a tight grip onto your hips, so tight it leaves red marks when he releases. consumating the marriage.

giyuu is clealry upset. pissed off even. he spent so much time with you, put in so much effort to even open himself up to you like you desperately wanted, and yet you're stolen away so easily, it's almost insulting.

oh. you feel so good around him. you've taken his sacred virginity a long time ago, and yet you still feel like a vice grip around his cock, no matter how many times he fucks you.

the two of you are startled when you hear a knock at the bathroom door. time is over.

but you both just cant stop. giyuu doesn't stop his hips from rutting into yours, and neither do you stop yourself from moaning like a whore.

this is shameful. this is taboo—and yet, giyuu finds himself on the brink of his orgasm.

"y/n," he calls out, too pussydrunk to care if the people on the other side of the door hear. "y/n, i-i'm about to–" he grunts out, leaning his head into the crook of your neck. you moan happily at his words, too fucked to give a damn about the consequences.

"give me yourrr cum giyuu" you slur out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you ride out your nth orgasm. giyuu grunts lowly in response, laying a kiss down onto the back of your neck before he's wrapping a hand around your neck and forcing his hips all the way up towards your own until he fills his cock tip pushing against your cervix so tightly it has you screaming with pleasure, squirting on his cock so deliciously.

"f-fuhck!" he yells out before he shoots his fat load into your convulsing cunt, his seed filling up your womb to the brim. you squeal happily at the feeling of your womb being filled by the right person, by your one true love.

the two of you are too drunk on sex to even notice that your groom has already unlocked the bathroom door anyways.

please repost with tags and leave a like.

#demon slayer x reader fluff #demon slayer fluff #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #demon slayer #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu x reader #giyuu smut #tomioka giyu x reader

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vamp4kaulitz · 1 year ago

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omg i ready ur tom smut and here i am begging for more but anyways could i possibly request dom! tom x fem! reader where he see his pp (😭) through her stomach it’s like a bulge and he purposely pushes down on it while he relentlessly yk thrusts into her

- 🦇

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 || 𝐓.𝐊

you ask and you shall receive ‼️

!dom tom x !sub fem reader, belly bulge kink, size kink(?), praise kink, and degrading kink

also sorry if I don’t do your request right away it takes me about 2 days to finish it all😭 or one but it depends!!

TOM POV

“T-Tom— slow down! Your going too fast—!” Y/N’s voice cracked as I rammed into her dipping cunt. “You like how I thrust into this pussy huh? Mmm..can’t get enough..” I moaned as my mouth was open, breathing out of it. “Fuck. So fucking good!” Y/N cries out as I went deeper. I looked down at her body and then realized something.

“Oh?” I smirk and speed up a bit. I see a belly bulge and smirk. “Look how deep I am in you baby. Who else can go this deep in this fucking slutty hole hm?” I groaned as I pressed down on it and got a good reaction out of Y/N. “You like that huh? Of course you do, my slut.” I chuckled as I slapped her cunt. I see Y/N sit up a little bit and see the belly bulge.

“See how deep I am in you? You love it, don’t you.” I smiled while rubbing her cunt. “Tom!!” She cried while I rubbed her sensitive area. She started to tighten around me making me moan loudly. I looked down at her chest and started to grab on her chest, and using my freehand to press down on the bulge. “You must like me using you huh?” I said while I rammed into her, making the bed shake and hit the wall a lot. It won’t leave a hole, right?

“F-Fuck! T-Tom— FUCK!” She whined as she started to squirt. I looked at her amazed and pulled out and started rubbing her pussy really fast. “Come on baby, squirt for me, squirt for me meine liebe!” I pleaded and she squirted all over my chest. I pushed back into her and her eyes widen. “G-goddamn it tom..!—“ She cursed as I increased my pace. “Just how m-much stamina do y-you fucking have?!” She gasped as I pounded into her. “Cumming!!— C-Cum—..!” Y/N moaned loudly as she shook while her orgasm took over her. I pull out and stroke my cock and finish on her stomach.

We layed beside each other out of breath and then looked at each other while smiling. “You squirting had to be hottest fucking thing ever.” I chuckled and she giggled. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

was it bad

sorry its was short it takes literally a second to read omg💔💔💔

btw y’all I’m literally so happy y’all are giving me requests wtfff😭 I promise ima get to them, ima try not to disappoint y’all!!

pic credit tokiosaturn0 dm to remove if owner only

rules for requests <3 ⬇️

#requests open #tokio hotel #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel x reader #request please

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bananielle · 1 month ago

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love and suds ♡ 🫧

₊˚.⋆⁺₊ leehan x reader ୨ৎ genres: hurt x comfort. fluff.

5.7k words. cw: lowercase intended. not super proofread. reader wears a bra. negative self talk. crying. dark thoughts. kissing. bathing. if there’s anything else, please let me know! <3 @onedoornet

authors note: blew the dust off this cause i think the longer i wait the more i will want to never ever post it and this was really something i wanted to share. i wrote this a couple months ago to comfort myself when i was really struggling. i went back and took out the very dark stuff cause i felt it messed up the plot and other things and anyways! this isn’t my best writing at all but i hope it can bring even a teensy bit of comfort to anyone who might feel the way reader does. i hope it’s good enough. happy reading baby loves ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა p.s if you’re in a dark place i promise brighter days are written in the stars for u & plz remember u don’t need to be spectacular or do amazing things to be worthy of love & ur wonderful just as u are & u will be okay ♡

you wrestle with the lock of your apartment door, jamming and twisting the key around impatiently, huffing at the lack of compromise it’s giving you. all you’ve wanted to do since you left your safe haven was come right back, curl up in bed and sob into your pillow; life being too much for you to carry on your shoulders lately.

everything was difficult and stressful, and your body was barely standing upright. today was your final straw. any more stress, and you’d crumble into pieces.

on your way home, you had looked up at the soft wash of pink and orange that was the sky, asking the universe for some kind of break. anything to ease the constant pain you felt.

you hoped and prayed it would take kindly to your wishes, but as you’re standing here now, fighting to get into your warm home, it seems the universe ignored you. so much for asking you for any favours, you think to yourself bitterly. the thinned string of patience inside you threatens to snap as you ram the key into the lock hole for the sixth time, its stubborn self still refusing to give in.

you take out the key, then put it back in, turn it as far left as it’ll go, and grab the door handle. you push down on it, and with all the strength you can muster, you bump your shoulder against the door, and suddenly, you’re home at last.

you quickly shut and lock the door behind you, then kick off your shoes and switch on the main light. it’s quiet inside, despite it being the evening, only the low hum of the air conditioner floating through the place. you had thought your boyfriend would be home at this hour, as he usually is, but perhaps he had to stay longer at his schedules tonight.

the thought weighs down on your shoulders, tears itching to escape and stream down your cheeks. a dark, heavy feeling settles in your chest. all you’ve wanted after such a long day was to see him. to collapse into his arms and feel his sturdy body against yours. and even if you did end up sobbing into your pillow the entire night, at least leehan would be there for you, laying beside you, rubbing your back and soothing you with his sweet voice, telling you that everything would be alright.

yn: 0, universe: 2 trillion, you think.

you’re too tired to feel hungry, and too tired to cook, so you decide to skip dinner. you switch off the main light, walking softly through the kitchen to your bedroom. it’s cold and damp inside, a fitting representation of your feelings. you don’t even have the energy to feel bothered by it. instead, you let yourself feel the goosebumps raise on your arms and the unpleasant chill caress your bare skin.

you weakly climb onto the bed, forgetting to turn the lights on and not bothering to snuggle up under the covers. you lay there on your side, in your cold, dark room, with your knees tucked into your chest.

for a while, your mind thinks nothing.

until, you begin to think about all that’s wrong. a familiar feeling awakens in your veins. or maybe it’s your bones. whichever is deeper, more hurtful, it awakens there and gnaws at you.

the thoughts wash through like a tide, cruel and relentless.

you let out a sob and squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, screaming at the voice inside of you to leave you alone. your breaths come in short and panicked, and you scramble your mind to find something to tether yourself to, something to ground you and make you feel real again.

a moment passes, and then, you see his face.

you see his pretty smile and the even prettier dimples adorning it, a little part of you wishing you could live inside of them; safe and stored away from the hideous world. his soft eyes, all sparkling and starry appear and you try to remember how they look at you so lovingly. you see his hands tangled in yours, warm and safe and sturdy. you remember, as hard as you can, how they felt and you hold that feeling close to your heart, hoping it would soothe its rapid beats.

leehan. leehan. leehan. you repeat like a prayer. your body relaxes.

your breaths start to slow and you finally gulp in deeper breaths. but the relief doesn’t last for long, when you realise the pictures of your boyfriend in your mind are just that. pictures. he is not here.

a frustrated burn settles in the back of your eyes, and you feel wet lines travel down your temples. your body shakes with every cry that escapes you, a puddle of wet forming on the covers. you sob for a while, until your head turns heavy and your eyes can barely stay open.

please come home, leehan. i need you.

you wish again to the universe, pleading it to do you a kindness and bring comfort to you, just this once. you hug yourself tightly while hoping for your boyfriend to come home, sniffling every now and then as your cries come to quiet. several minutes pass of you in the dark, cold and heartbroken, a heaviness stuck in the air.

sleep nearly comes to your aid, but it’s not quick enough. you’re still awake to hear the distant, muffled sound of a key turning, and then clink of the front door unlocking.

your heart soars in your chest. you sleepily wonder if it’s a dream, staying ever so still as you strain your ears for more sound.

“yn? are you home, angel?” a weak sob escapes your lips at the comforting sound of leehan’s voice. you don’t know whether to smile or continue crying, so you do a strange combination of both.

“in here”, you reply. but your voice isn’t loud enough. it’s raspy and weak, the words scraping your throat like glass as you spoke them.

you wait a few heartbeats longer, hopeful and excited, watching the door, wondering if leehan was coming to find you.

soon enough, just as you wished, leehan finds you.

he shuffles into the pitch-dark room, turning on the light to see better. the moment he spots you, he nearly crumbles. a look of concern contort his features as walks towards your limp body and softly asks, “baby? wha- what’s wrong? are you okay? how long have you been like this?” his words spill out rushed, each one carrying more weight than the last.

he lowers himself onto the bed, adjusting himself so he’s sitting next to you, and reaches out an urgent hand out to brush away pieces of hair that stuck to your tear-stained face. “oh, baby”, he coos, stroking your hair gently. “talk to me”

you look up at him through glassy eyes, and you break out into more sobs when you see how he gazes at you. so much concern and compassion glimmer in his eyes, it tugs at your heartstrings. his sweet words pick apart every tense nerve in your body.

you hide your face in your hands as you cry, your breaths coming in so short and quick, they cut off every word you try to speak.

“shh, baby. i’m here.” leehan comforts, as he leans down to place a kiss to your shoulder as one of his hands massages your back, up and down, soothingly.

after a few more sobs and shh’s from leehan, you find a moment to take deep breaths and wipe your eyes. your limbs fight against you after being stuck in the same position for so long as you adjust yourself to sit up. you avoid his laser gaze, knowing that if you looked into his eyes, you fear the tears would never end.

once you’ve sat up, you cross your legs and take in a shaky breath. the hand that leehan dragged up and down your back, now rests on your thigh. his other one finds the small of your back and stays there.

you breath out deeply before speaking.

“i’m just so tired, leehan.” your voice cracks and scratches but you don’t care enough to clear your throat.

“i had such an awful day. i’ve been having awful days. and my head hurts so much. and my heart won’t stop beating like crazy. i feel it every second of the day and it scares me so much. everything is too much for me. i’m lost and confused and just. tired. ”, more tears stream down your cheeks, and you need to take in another deep breath before continuing. your hand finds leehans’ on your thigh and holds it tight for comfort.

a weighted silence drifts upon the air. slowly, you look up from the random spot on the covers you’ve been trained on and meet leehan’s eyes.

tears glisten at the edges of them, the look of concern vanished, replaced by utter sadness. his eyes trace every feature of your face, as if to find the answer to his question.

“oh, my love” he says, his voice hushed, nearly falling into a whisper. “why didn’t you tell me sooner? to know that you’ve been carrying this weight on your shoulders all by yourself, it breaks my heart. you know that’s why i’m here right? to help you carry the heavy things”

“i-i know, leehan” you look down at your intertwined hands. “i don’t know why i didn’t, i’m sorry. i think i just, i didn’t want to burden you. i thought i could figure it out myself. make it go away on my own”, you shrug, not even realising how you’d kept your feelings a secret, subconsciously hiding them under a smile.

leehan suddenly cups your face in his hands, his eyes serious but his tone gentle. “you never have to be on your own. not as long as i’m here”, he sniffles as his eyes water more. your heart splinters at the sight.

“please listen to me, baby. look at me” he makes sure he’s locked his gaze into yours when he says, “i am always here for you. always. i want to hear what you have to say. everything. don’t ever think you can’t come to me. you don’t have to be alone, i promise.”

leehan kisses your forehead, so softly and sweetly, it prompts your body to shudder. your entire being is overcome by the love it holds for him.

thank you, universe.

“thank you” you say quietly, giving him the biggest smile you can muster. both your hands cover his own, your thumbs rubbing the backs of them lightly. “i love you. i promise to come to you. promise i’ll tell you things.”

a slow smile spreads across his face, and he plants another kiss to your forehead, this time, lingering on the spot. he pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ears.

“let me take care of you, okay? i’ll run you a bath, get you all cleaned up and relaxed. how does that sound, baby?”, he asks eagerly.

your words seemed to have run away at leehan’s compassion, so all you do is nod your head tiredly, giving him a soft smile.

leehan enters the bathroom with you in his arms, stopping to turn on the light before setting you down on the fluffy rug in the middle of the floor. it feels plush and warm against your socked feet, a comforting change compared to the cool draft in the bedroom. you press yourself further into it, really making sure you’re standing firmly on the ground, planted and unmoving.

he glides over to the bath, twisting the knob to the right so the dial lands right where it’s nearly too hot, just how you like it. the rush of water fills the room, the strong current of the faucet beating against the plastic tub, and again you feel comforted, no longer trapped in your thoughts when pleasant distractions feed all your senses. your eyes study leehan as he feels the water with his fingers, adjusting the dial a few times before turning back to you.

without saying a word, he scoops you into his embrace once more, bringing you to the sink and sitting you down on the edge of the counter. he kisses your cheek tenderly before opening a mirrored cabinet to sift through and bringing out your entire skincare routine, lining up each bottle in their respective order. a bright, warm glow begins to fill your chest.

he bends down to open up a cupboard, and remerges with a small towel in his hand, then turns on the sink, checking to see if the water is lukewarm. he wets the towel, rings it, then repeats the action. after a few more soaks and rings, he places himself between your legs, then gently presses the towel to your face.

“close your eyes for me, pretty” he instructs quietly, his voice low and smooth.

leehan works in a methodical rhythm until every inch of your skin is made damp. his touches are so gentle and filled with love, you feel light-headed. you wonder in awe at how lucky you got with him. that such loving, gentle boy is all yours. a tiny, secret smile pulls the corners of your mouth.

“does that feel good, baby?” he purrs, taking notice of your not-so-secret smile.

“mm-hm, more than good” you respond, looking up at him softly. he smiles back at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight.

leehan moves carefully as he applies your face wash, rubbing circles on your face firmly but gingerly, then taking the same wet towel to rinse it off. he works in silence whilst massaging every one of your serums and moisturisers into your face, as he’s seen you apply them yourself a million times, slowly and thoughtfully in an effort to relax you. the cold sensation of the creams and his sturdy fingers send shivers down your spine.

“there we go. all done”. leehan strokes his thumbs over your cheeks one last time, then leans in to kiss your lips. it’s short and sweet, his lips soft and warm.

the sound of the rushing water must have become white noise to you both, because when you turn your attention to the tub, it’s nearly filled to the brim. leehan goes to shut off the faucet, but not before adding in your favourite soap, swirling the steaming water around with his hand, making a clean, bubbly scent waft through the air. it’s familiar to you, a reassuring sense that helps you attach yourself to the present moment. you’re here and you’re okay, you soothe to yourself.

he walks back to you, hooking a strong arm around your back and placing the other under your knees, lifting you off the counter and placing you back on the fluffy rug.

“let’s take these icky clothes off of you. arms up.” he says quietly, his honey voice nearly humming the words.

you obey, reaching your arms up in the air, letting him put his hands under your shirt and gently lift it up and over your head. he’s seen you in your bra plenty of times before, but somehow, the intimacy of this moment makes you shy away and cover up.

“hey…” he looks down at you, a slight twinkle in his eye. he gently pulls your arms away from your chest. “it’s just me, baby”

“i know…” you respond shyly… “i just…” you trail off, looking down at your feet.

“don’t worry, love. i can leave to let you undress. just let me know when you’re done.” he goes to leave, but you stop him quickly, grabbing his hand.

“no! no, please stay. i’m just a little overwhelmed…with love, i think. that’s all”, you say to the floor quietly.

all leehan does is gaze at you fondly, the tiniest giggling leaving his mouth. “okay. i’ll be gentle with you, i promise” he reassures as he reaches his hands out to unclasp your bra.

they’re warm and sturdy, like they always are. the way his fingertips brush against your exposed skin so delicately gives you goosebumps. you didn’t know how it was possible to miss him so much, despite seeing him only this morning, and having him in front of you now, but here you are, longing for him so deeply.

he undoes the clasp, then hooks his fingers through the straps, gently gliding it down your arms. once it’s off, he gathers it nicely and places it in on the sink, along with your shirt.

his hands continue to brush down your arms, the grazing of his finger tips like a ghost against your skin. he never lets go of your gaze as he kisses down your stomach. you gasp lightly at the way his lips travel down your body so lovingly, as if he was made just to worship you.

he stops just before the button of your pants, then carefully undoes them, easing the piece of clothing down your legs slowly. you lift each foot out of the holes.

leehan grabs the back of your calf, lifting it slightly to press a soft kiss to your shin, then takes off your sock. he does the same to your other leg, then folds up your jeans and sets them down near your folded shirt and bra.

his eyes never leave yours as he runs his fingertips along your collarbone, the soft pads finding your shoulders to rest there. “my beautiful baby,” he coos. “let’s get you washed up.”

leehan rolls up his long sleeve shirt, cuffing it at the elbows, then as tenderly as he can, he scoops you up and walks you over to the tub. his eyes never leave your face as he lowers you into the hot, bubbly water, careful not to hurt you.

“how’s the temperature? is it warm enough?”

“it’s perfect, leehan” you say, because it was. everything about this moment was perfect.

“good”, he smiles softly. “i’ll be right back, okay?” and then he quietly leaves the bathroom. you rest your back against the side of the tub, leaning your head back on the side. the water is so warm, it feels like it reaches your bones. it melts away your worries like butter, until every evil word you had thought to yourself becomes smudged and muddled, a distant memory.

you play with the bubbles, scooping up a handful, then blowing it into the air, watching as the sparkly, white clouds float every which way. your heart finally begins to slow down, resuming a normal pace. you’re warm and cradled and safe, all thanks to leehan. you could nearly cry again at his loving actions. how incredibly lucky you were to have him.

your love returns a few minutes later with a rolled up towel, walking into the separate shower to grab your wash cloth and body wash, then kneels near the tub behind you. he lifts up your head slightly, then pushes the towel underneath as a little makeshift pillow.

you study his upside down face carefully. his cheeks are slightly blushed from the heat of the bath, and the front pieces of his hair are curling slightly from it, too. there’s something so sweet in his eyes — you can’t quite explain it. but it makes you glow on the inside.

leehan. leehan. leehan. my leehan.

he beams down at you, stroking your head. “do you need to wash your hair tonight?” he asks, searching your eyes.

you simply shake your head no, too relaxed and soothed to speak. he nods, then takes the wash cloth and dips it in the tub.

he squirts your favourite body wash on it, then begins to rub it in your skin soothingly. the pressure of his strong hands, the warmth of the water, and the slight tingle of the texture of the cloth against your skin overwhelms you with relaxation.

with each gentle rub, your pain washes away, lost to the mountains of bubbles. your mind goes blank, but not unpleasantly. it’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. at peace, in a way.

for a long time, leehan tends to you. his forearms are soaked, covered in tiny white bubbles, some even reaching up his cuffed sleeve. he holds every part of you so tenderly, as if you were the most precious being he’ll ever know. he’s careful to wash off any excess icky-ness of the day, humming lowly as he does.

his fingers begin to prune, as do yours, and the bubbles begin to subside. he cups his hands in the water and uses it to wash off any leftover soap still stuck to your skin. you’ve passed the state of relaxation now, completely lost in bliss from leehan’s caresses.

as you hug your knees to your chest, he tells you to lift your head up off the little towel. two strong hands grip your shoulders, massaging them lazily. his hands rub the tense muscles for a few minutes, sending tingling sensations down your spine.

“love you so much, darling. so so much” he purrs into your ear softly before letting his warm lips trail down your neck. he reaches one hand across your face to cup your cheek, turning your head ever so slightly. his fingers slide to rest under your chin, and he slowly lifts your head up so you’re looking right in his eyes.

“you’re everything to me, yn. everything” he says, then presses his mouth to yours softly. he deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. you let him in, allowing your tongue to tangle with his. he lingers in your mouth for a while, languidly tasting you over and over again. he finally breaks away, his cheeks slightly flushed.

your own cheeks are blushed as well, your breath stuck in your throat slightly, in awe of the kiss.

leehan uses his thumbs to guide your eyelids closed to press feather-light kisses to each one, then he wanders all over your face, not letting any inch of skin go un-kissed. one last time, his lips finds yours again.

you look up at him sleepily, so relaxed and soothed, you could fall asleep right there. the harsh cold and sadness of before long gone. he notices your sleepiness.

“ready for bed, my love?”

“mm-hmm” you hum in response, your lids fluttering closed as you let him scoop you out of the tub and stand you up carefully. he quickly gets your robe off of its hook, then wraps it around your body, guiding each of your arms through the sleeves. he snugs it around you as tight as possible before tying the strap around your waist. he goes to empty the tub, the water beginning to drain with a large gurgle.

leehan turns you around by the shoulders, guiding you to the closet so you can get dressed in your pyjamas. you stand in the middle of the closet, studying your boyfriend as he contently sifts through your drawers, trying to find your comfiest set of pyjamas.

“ah—these ones! these are so cute, baby. and they’re nice and warm. what do you think, hm?” he turns to look at you with sparkling eyes, a hint of playfulness in them.

“yeah, those will work leehan” you let out a breathy laugh, completely amused by the fact that leehan thought these pyjamas are cute, all pink and adorned with hearts.

he goes to unwrap your robe and delicately slide it off of you, letting it pool at your feet. the sudden cold air makes you cover yourself, prompting leehan to coo and hastily bring your pyjama top over your head.

“here, baby”, he says softly. the warm fabric gives you immediate relief, eliciting a sigh out of you. he bends down to put on the fluffy pants, gently holding your the back of your calves as he does so. you help him bring them up all the way, to which leehan lifts your top slightly to plant a sneaky kiss to your stomach.

“hey!” you giggle. “that tickles”

he smiles up at you sweetly, his fluffy brown hair covering his pretty eyes. “oh!” he perks up suddenly. “i forgot your socks!” he exclaims, jumping to his feet to go through your sock drawer. he grabs the warmest, fluffiest pair he can find.

once he’s put them on your feet, he wastes no time in scooping you up in his arms for the nth time that night. he walks you to the bed, switching off the bathroom light on his way out. even though it’s a brief walk, you snuggle up to him close, your head finding the crook of his neck to rest in. you place a soft kiss to the area of skin, then another, and another, until you’ve placed as many as you can before he sets you down gently.

he adjusts the covers so you can cuddle up underneath them, and you slide your body under them and snuggle up as much as possible, making yourself cozy.

leehan pulls the covers up to your chin, tucking in the rest around around body, making sure you’re as warm as can be. he sits down next to you, taking your hands in his. after a moment, he speaks.

“you should eat something warm. how about some soup?” he asks.

“that sounds lovely”, you say quietly, “thank you, leehanie. for…for everything”, squeezing his hand to punctuate the words.

“it’s what i’m here for, darling.” he stands, then gives you a quick peck on your forehead, then leaves as he says “i’ll be back soon”

my leehan. you think as you watch him go. your eyes stay trained on the door way, your ears listening to the soft chinks of the dishes and the quiet closing of cupboards, and the occasional crinkle of a packet.

you wait patiently for your love. thanking the stars a million times over for him. how lucky you were for them to align just so, allowing you to be together.

just a couple hours ago, you were laying in this same spot, curled up into a sad, miserable ball, sobbing at how cruel your mind and the world was. you had wanted nothing more than the bed to swallow you whole.

but then, he came home to you. and here you are now, underneath toasty covers, and you felt alright. you were comforted and relaxed, but most importantly, you were loved.

you lay in silence for a few long minutes, the occasional drip of the faucet hitting the bottom of the tub floating through the room. you trace random shapes with your eyes on the ceiling. just as your finishing tracing a heart, leehan walks in with a warm bowl of soup, soft swirls of steaming from it into the air.

“it’s still a little hot but it shouldn’t take long to cool down” he says, placing the bowl on the nightstand next to you. he gives it a few stirs with the spoon, then turns his attention back to you. he smiles softly as he sits down next to you, fiddling the with warm duvet to snuggle you up more.

he takes the bowl of comfort food in his hands with the towel. “open up” leehan lifts the spoon to your lips, then slowly tips it so you can swallow the warm liquid.

“is it good?” he asks hopefully.

“mm-hmm, it’s lovely. feels good to eat something warm” you respond sleepily, opening your mouth again as another spoonful comes towards you.

leehan feeds you lovingly in the perfect, comfortable quiet that envelopes you two. he makes sure you’ve eaten it all, until the bowl is just barely streaked with soup. when the spoon stops being useful, he brings the bowl to your lips and holds the back of your head gently as you drink up the rest.

“i’ll go wash up the dishes. it’s not much, but if you feel like you need to sleep, don’t wait up for me, okay? rest. i love you, baby”. he kisses off an excess spot of soup at the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to your forehead.

“i love you” you tell him softly.

you watch him go with heavy eyelids and a warm, full belly.

you don’t fall asleep just yet, even though you feel sleep tugging at your brain and body. you nearly drift off, but jerk yourself awake. you wanted to wait for leehan.

he was so wonderful to you today, so caring and compassionate. your heart squeezes as your mind recounts the details of the night. every little moment of leehan caring for you making a content smile tug at your lips.

by the time he comes back into the room, your eyes are barely able to stay open.

“you’re still awake? you didn’t have to wait for me, yn.” he offers you a sweet smile as he brushes a strand of hair away from your eyes.

“i know, i wanted to though. i want some cuddles” you say gently.

“you’re gonna get lots of cuddles, i promise.” you feel leehan’s weight dip the bed as he climbs in next to you.

before he can say anything else, you decide to speak. “i’m sorry, leehan. i was such a mess today”, you say quietly, fiddling with the top of the covers.

“baby, wha-what?”, a sudden look of concern paints his face, his eyebrows quirking up in confusion.

his eyes look at you sadly. “what do you have to be sorry for?” he breathes out, his hand cupping your cheek softly, his thumb making soothing strokes.

“i-i just…” your words get caught in your throat, and you feel the prickle of tears behind your eyes. a sob threatens to leave you, so you take a deep breath before speaking again.

“i just dumped so much on you, you know? out of nowhere. you came home and there i was, a complete sobbing mess. just dumping so much of emotions onto you, with no warning. i didn’t even ask you about your day. i’m sorry you had to see me that way…i’m such a burden”. the well-known dark feeling enters your chest again, the rampant monster in your mind waiting to pounce.

“oh, angel” he sighs. leehan takes his hand off your cheek to grab one of yours, holding it so tightly, you wonder if he thinks you’ll slip away if he let go.

he brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

he studies you earnestly. “don’t ever be sorry for being open with me. you’re not a bother. you’re the furthest thing from it. it’s okay if you were a mess. i’m a mess sometimes. and when i am, you’re always there to care for me. why wouldn’t i do the same for you?” he pauses briefly, as if to make sure he doesn’t cry.

“it breaks my heart to know you feel the way you do, yn. you deserve the whole world” his voice cracks slightly at the end. leehan says the words with so much fervor and love, you want to believe him, so badly, but your mind continues to build blocks. you hate yourself for it, and he sees it written on your face.

“please hear me when i say this, my love” he squeezes your hand tight, bringing it to his heart. “i promise you’re good enough. i know you feel small sometimes. but please believe me when i say you are good enough. you work so so hard, and you’re so talented. i see how much you sacrifice to do well. you’re kind and thoughtful and smart. and really, really gorgeous…” he trails off, letting out a breathy laugh. his eyes begin to twinkle.

“you still make my heart race, y’know that? every time i look at you, it goes crazy. just for you and only you…i know i’m not the best with words, but, i really do love you. and you mean everything to me. i don’t need or want you to be perfect or put-together all the time. i want to see all the parts to you. don’t be sorry for your feelings, please. and don’t be afraid to come to me, alright? nothing about you is ever too much for me, angel. there’s no such thing.”

you quite literally feel like you could burst into a million pieces at that very moment. no one has or will ever make you feel as loved as leehan. the world would have to end before you even tried to figure that out. you really try to hear him, try to cement the words into your heart, to will away the dark thoughts. they might not disappear entirely, but you had leehan. your sweet leehan, who would never let you go through it alone.

a few tears have made their way down your cheeks again, and his. he places your hand down gently, then leans down to kiss away your tears. he takes his time, slowly licking up the salty trails. he cups your face, stroking your reddened cheeks soothingly. he kisses every part of your face until there’s no part of skin that hasn’t been touched.

you take his face in your hands, brushing away stray pieces of hair from his eyes. “my leehan”, you dote, “i love you so much. what would i do without you?”

he brings his lips to yours, softly at first. the kiss is light, barely a touch. he pulls away, just for a moment, to look into your eyes. he kisses you again, but deeper this time, a way for you to say i love you better than his words could tell. it’s passionate and intimate and vulnerable, and it tastes of your salty tears and his vanilla chapstick. your stray fingers tug at his hair slightly, pressing him closer to you. it’s a thank you kiss. an i love you kiss. a kiss that says i’ll never leave you.

after a few moments, he slowly breaks away from you. your eyes still closed. carefully, they flutter open to see a dazed, dreamy-eyed leehan and with every fiber of his being, with every piece of his heart, he says, “i love you, yn. i’ll love you forever”

taglist — @whyilovewhales-pdf @uriwoos2

#onedoornet #features brown haired ihan cause i miss him lol #hiding in a corner now!! ❤️#leehan fluff #leehan x reader #leehan x reader fluff #leehan imagine #kim donghyun fluff #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor imagine #stories ♡

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acourtofquietdreamers · 2 months ago

Text

Elain Archeron Week: Hope

Art by Pinkykei.art and commissioned by me 💗

Imagine being Elain Archeron at the end of ACOWAR. She was just turned fae against her will, her body violated in the process and a stranger claiming her as his mate moments after. She’s forced to leave behind the life she was building for herself to live in a land she was raised to fear. She spent months plagued by visions and powers she doesn’t understand, leaving her almost catatonic as she’s trapped in a murky realm she can’t escape. She finally gains clarity on her new powers, but is then cruelly rejected by her fiancé. The same magical pot that turned her fae lures her out of camp under the false pretense that her ex-fiancé came back for her. She witnessed brutal battles that left her retching and then rammed a magical blade through a king’s neck, taking her first life. This same king murdered her father moments before.

After these events, she has every right to despair and crumble, but Elain Archeron chooses a different path. She cleans up her father’s lifeless body, picks him flowers, and tells him she loves him.

“Elain quietly washed his face. Combed out his hair and beard. Straightened his clothes. She found flowers—somewhere. She laid them at his head, on his chest. We stared down at him in silence. “I love you,” Elain whispered, voice breaking.”

She smiles and hopes.

“Elain nodded, smiling up at me, and it was tentative joy—and life that shone in her eyes. A promise of the future, gleaming and sweet.”

She dreams.

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

Elain’s ability to rise above everything that happened to her as she continues to dream of better days shows extreme resilience and I admire the way she looks to find and create beauty in the world, no matter how bleak things look. She’s holding a bouquet of irises in this piece and much like our quiet dreamer, irises symbolize hope and faith. They’re also one of the flowers Feyre painted on Elain’s dresser drawer so I thought they fit perfectly here! Thank you so much again, Pinkykei, for working on this piece for me. Happy Elain is the best Elain and you captured that beautifully 🥹💗

Please don’t repost without permission.

@elainarcheronweek

#elain archeron #pro elain #pro elain archeron #elainappreciationweek #Elain archeron week #ACOTAR #ACOTAR fanart #Elain week 2024 #elainarcheronweek #my comms

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thefreakandthehair · 11 months ago

Text

(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k

content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags

“My dad called.”

Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now?

It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son.

Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust.

Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong.

“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself.

“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.”

Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight.

“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging.

“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!”

His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.

“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off.

He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can.

But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.

“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”

Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.”

“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks.

“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?”

Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace.

It’s only then that Steve speaks.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”

Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them.

“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree.

“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge.

Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen.

“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”

“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”

Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain.

“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow.

“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”

Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him.

“Definitely.”

The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.

There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #(whispers): yeah so my mom fell off the wagon after 18 years at her fucking work party and this is basically just what my day was #our relationship has always been strained but since she got sober there was at least some contact?#anyways #replace wayne with my grandparents and this is just all projection baybee 😙✌️#super not cool with it BUT that's why there are some content warnings here you don't see from me very often 💕

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yandere-sins · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii, Could you write Satan kidnapping MC because they're his favorite writer? I had this idea recently and it looked promising. Maybe MC is so talented that people compare their books and Simeon's books.

Thanks for your request! It’s very fitting for Satan :3

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"How's it coming along?"

Satan's voice tore you out of your daydream—a nice one, of a world far, far away—and you twisted around to see him come through the door, setting down his bag before returning your gaze and smiling. You didn't hear him come in, nor noticed how fast the time passed since he left, but immediately you felt uneasy again. "Not so good," you muttered, turning back to you laptop and biting your lip, now overly aware of his footsteps creaking over the floorboards.

"Let me see," he asked. Leaning over your shoulder, Satan gently nudged your hand off the mouse to scroll up your manuscript to read what you had added over the span of the last few hours. There were fewer new pages than he expected as he scrolled too far the first time, and you only slumped more on your chair, too afraid to admit your failure.

"Hm... I'm not sure. It's just lacking the certain something, you know what I mean?" he finally commented as he reached the blank half of the last page you wrote before sighing, shaking his head. "Didn't you say you wanted me out of the room for peace and quiet? I thought that would help you."

Fiddling with your thumb, you kept silent for a while as his body continued to weigh down on you. It was his impatient threat to say something, to make him understand your views. But how could you? In his eyes, you may very well not have been human, but you two would never see eye to eye regardless of how he viewed you. "I tried..." you eventually muttered, looking down and hanging your shoulders.

"I don't really feel motivated... A-And I'm hungry! I can't work like this! It's blocking my inspiration to be in this room, I haven't been outside in a week!"

Pushing back your chair, Satan moved out of the way just in time to dodge it ramming into him. A part of you felt bad for almost hurting him, but it was the part that hadn't understood yet what kind of situation you two were in.

He was the demon that lured you into a trap by promising to be your patron, and you were the dumb human who didn't think twice before agreeing. Nowhere on the contract did it say you'd have to spend your time in his home, in front of his scrutinizing eyes, but you had been naive and gullible, all too happy to sign without reading the fine print.

Stumbling back, you felt the adrenaline rush as you opposed him for the first time since he had brought you here. It was your fault, you knew that. You had enough sleepless nights to reflect on your mistakes. But Satan could not make you his puppet, no matter how much he wanted you to. It's not how the creative writing process worked! With so many restrictions he put on you, it was impossible to create anything—no matter how much he loved your creations.

As you watched his hand rise into the air, you heard a tsk escape from his lips, and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing for impact. You've seen his anger, witnessed his rage. It had never been directed at you, but with your mind running wild all day—just not with ideas for your new book—you were sure it was time for him to lash out at you.

Instead, you felt the gentle warmth that his palm emitted as he cupped your cheek, and your eyes blinked open in confused astonishment. "I'm sorry," he said, his expression full of concern and shame. For a moment, you almost forgot he wasn't human; his reaction felt so validating and real. As if he truly recognized how he wronged you.

"You said you wanted some alone time and I thought it would be best to give you what you wanted. But you are right. I should have taken your needs into consideration."

Satan spoke these words so earnestly, not a hint of a lie in his voice. It felt surreal to hear these words, knowing he had kidnapped you in the first place. "No, I'm sorry, I..." you started before catching yourself. Why were you apologizing? Wasn't it his fault you flew off the handle? It had been Satan who had tricked you, so why were you feeling bad all of a sudden?

"No, you are right. I can't keep you cooped up here all day, even though I long to see your new story. It was selfish of me when we were supposed to be partners in this, so forgive me."

Dropping his hand from the gentle caressed to your face, Satan held it out to you. You couldn't help but be hesitant and unsure. What did he want? Would he hurt you if you accepted the invitation?

"Please let me make it up to you," he explained, sincerity in his eyes as he stood there, waiting for you to agree. It all felt so unreal, but the paranoia made you unsure how to act. You had already imagined all kinds of scenarios, from the horror ones to some that made you blush. Being a writer, your anxiety didn't give you a clear sign of what to do, and after being stuck in an unfamiliar, dark place for more than a week, barely surviving on the food and water you had been given, and even less on the few hours of sleep every day, it was a surprise you could even come up with more scenarios in your head.

"You're not mad?" you asked hesitantly, eyeing his hand with suspicion. You already knew the palm would be warm, his long fingers perfect for wrapping around your hand, and his touch soft and gentle. After being deprived of social interactions, it was a tempting offer.

Satan shook his head, sadness rushing to his features again. "No, I'm worried and ashamed I let it come so far. I will make it up to you. I'll show you the beauty of this world and take you to experience unforgettable things. I didn't ask to be your patron so you'd live out the rest of your life like a caged animal. I want to support you, even if I have failed until now. Will you give me the chance to right my wrongs?"

Even though you felt nervous about making this decision, Satan had said all the right things. Everything you had wanted to hear from him, assuring you that you had also been heard by him. When he first approached you for this partnership, you had been unsure as well; deal with the devil and all. But he had seemed so sincere back then, too. So convinced in your skills and talents, sweeping you right off your feet. The same was happening now, although if he meant what he said, then his intentions were still pure.

Slowly, you placed your hand into his, choosing to trust him once more. After all, he had approached you for this deal. Surely if it was this important to him, he'd not mess it up again, right? Satan beamed when you gave him your answer, nodding once in confirmation as his hand wrapped around yours.

"Let's go then!" he announced, and before you could ask where to, he had pulled you after him, opening the door and bathing you in the warm, beautiful sun, leaving the darkness behind.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"You good?" Satan asked, patting down the blanket around your shoulders. You nodded, swallowing down some of the soothing tea in your hands before smiling.

"I think I can do it now!"

A gentle smile played around his lips as he chuckled, excited after hearing your enthusiastic reply. "Then I'll be over there, reading. Call out if you need anything."

It had been the right choice to trust him. All this time, you had been fearful and wary when, actually, he was a good guy. People would think you'd gone mad, hearing you talk like this about a demon this way, but they didn't know Satan. Some demons truly were good people, perhaps better than most humans you knew.

After that little argument in the afternoon, he had done his best to give you back the freedom you craved. He took you to a nice beach town, where you two played in the sand next to the ocean, took a long walk and talked, and ate delicious food from many different vendors. Had you two not been in a professional relationship, one could have almost called it a date.

But that wasn't important. Important was that when he asked if you wanted to continue this partnership, you agreed. On the condition this time that he wouldn't restrict you as much again and listen to you, to which Satan willingly shook hands. You went back with him to his domain with fewer worries, less stress, and actually feeling inspired to sit down and write. And once you cozied up with a blanket and some tea, you were happy to fulfill your side of the contract—at least until you were too sleepy to continue.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Satan lounging in his armchair, his own steaming cup of tea on a side table as he read his book. He noticed your gaze, meeting it with a smile and a slight wave and you returned the gesture before looking onto the empty page of your manuscript again, getting ready to throw yourself into the story. You could do it! You knew that now. You had all the support that you needed, and Satan had become more of a friend than the captor you had originally thought him to be!

All you ever wanted was to write, and now, it was your time to shine.

All thanks to Satan's help.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Humans were easily frazzled, weren't they?

Vulnerable, fearful creatures. And yet, he couldn't help but fall for you the moment he read the first sentence of your book. Satan remembered that he thought, "Wow, they get it," as he dove into a story filled with passion for the obscure, something that couldn't have been from a mind as fragile as a human.

But it was, and so he found you.

And you were everything he wanted you to be.

So for a moment, he panicked when he saw you distraught. For a moment, he could feel the feeble connection of your pact waver, threatening to tear as the contract he made the first time had been rushed and haphazardly. He knew better now than to be careless around you. You, who had the power to make and break him, turn him into an obedient puppy to your whims, even though he was the scariest dog your world had ever seen. If he wanted to keep you, he had to rethink his plan, better it, and put a leash so tight on you that you'd be unable to escape his grip.

Inevitably, he fixed the problems easily, building trust that you should have never allowed to form between you two. Satan relished in the sight of your turned back, your fingers tapping away merrily on the keyboard of the laptop he got for you. Don't get him wrong, he adored your works, loved the obscure, wild ideas that you put into words so lovely that they touched his ruthless soul.

But it was you he wanted. You he loved.

That's why he decided to be patient. Even with the itch in his fingers to pin you to the ground, the burning on his lips to capture yours so frevently you'd forget yourself. The inescapable pull you had on his whole body as if you were the demon binding his soul to yours, and that annoying part of his mind that wanted nothing more than to rip it out so you may have it.

Satan couldn't let you know all these things he wanted to do with you, the way he'd have you captured in his arms until you stopped thrashing. It wasn't enough for Satan to have captured you, he wanted more. He wanted to still his anger with the softness of your body in his hold, soothe the rage inside him with the sound of your voice. Know that every word you'd write, you'd do for him. It made him anything but angry—greedy, gluttonous, prideful. He could act like the main character in your book all you needed, but it wouldn't change the fact he was the villain at the end of your story.

But he had already captured your body, soothed your distrust, and soon, he'd have that new creation you'd only write for him and him alone. Thus was the new contract he made you sign. A contract you accepted much too easily after he showed you the illusion of freedom you were craving. As if there had ever been a choice for you.

You were a simple soul, even if your mind was brilliant. He could read you like a book, the way your body shuddered against his touch as you dreamed of him—dreams he planted in your head for you to nourish with your ideas. And Satan could play this game for a long, long time, dragging it out until you'd accept his love willingly, seek it out like he had sought after you. Even if it would take forever, he'd practice the illusion of patience.

All so he could have you for all eternity.

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