#pretty cool gentleman if you ask me
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Starting off fresh with some Karloff! Again, sorry for getting rid of so much art. I know my brand is The Baron Twins (Greg&Ant), so don’t worry about me NOT posting art of them!!!! I have a few ideas in mind…
I’m really hoping to pump out some OC art by tomorrow night! I have a few ideas concepts I want to wip up, but I’m not too sure yet… some of my OCs even have face claims of my favorite horror actors; such as ^Mister Karloff (of course), Bela Lugosi, Vincent Price, and a few more! I hope you guys will love them as much as i do :).
#boris karloff#classic horror#classic film#old hollywood actors#classic hollywood#i miss drawing him#he’s so fun to draw#especially when it comes to his features#pretty cool gentleman if you ask me#nocker’s stuff
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hello, do you have any resources/books about the role of michigan/fort detroit in the war of 1812? thanks so much!!
Thank you for sending me this ask, and sorry I have been sitting on it for several days as I have searched for better resources!
Even though my interest in the War of 1812 has decidedly taken a turn for the Old Northwest frontier, which includes Michigan, I feel like all of the books I have on the subject are heavily focused on the Kentucky troops who made up most of the Americans at the Battles of Frenchtown and the Battle of the Thames. I'm currently reading The War of 1812 in the West: From Fort Detroit to New Orleans by David Kirkpatrick, and I love it, but it is deeply Kentucky fried and maybe not enough Michigan-focused content for what you are seeking?
It is genuinely weird how few books are focused on Michigan in the War of 1812, especially in light of all the "[State] in the War of 1812" books out there. (I can't believe Illinois has a War of 1812 book.) One that looks very promising, although I haven't read it, is Invaded on All Sides: The War of 1812 and Michigan's greatest battlefield engagements at Frenchtown and the River Raisin by Ralph Naveaux. Naveaux is a Michigan-based historian, and the blurbs praising his book are names I know and respect.
For a general history of the War of 1812 my recommendation is The Civil War of 1812: American Citizens, British Subjects, Irish Rebels, & Indian Allies by Alan Taylor, especially because Taylor is focused on border regions with shifting and complicated alliances (which definitely includes the Michigan territory at this time).
#war of 1812#military history#michigan#old northwest#books#so i went and looked up ralph naveaux online (to find out if he's still alive for one)#and now i'm pretty sure he was the nice older gentleman who gave me a really cool behind the scenes tour at the river raisin museum!#you might also try a biography of sir isaac brock (for the capture of fort detroit) but again the focus is not michigan#asks#us history
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just like heaven
in which flirty!reader finally confesses her feelings to a pining spencer reid after a night out. she's slightly buzzed. it's complicated.
fluff (some angst) warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader drinks alcohol, dirty jokes, so much flirting and banter, some arguing kinda, but spencer is such a gentleman, everyone gets flustered at least once, they really wanna kiss, happy ending a/n: gif :D I hope u like this! not bandages reader but like same vibes. like an AU for my AU
“Emily!”
You drawl the ee sound long, the same way you reach across the table and wiggle your fingers at her half-empty glass. Thin dark brows dart up beneath that glossy sweep of reddish-black hair.
“Oh, wow. That’s unsettling. What?”
It’s been at least an hour since you had a drink of your own, but enough alcohol is still flowing through your veins so as to render her offensive comment inoffensive. You love Emily. You love the Tequila Sunrise sweating onto the sticky table in front of her which she’s not going to finish.
“I think she wants your drink,” JJ assists, cheek balanced tipsily on a propped up fist.
“Uh…”
Emily’s doe-sweet eyes flash uncertainly behind you.
“I’m basically sober,” you insist, laying your head on your outstretched arm and letting your hair cascade as you bat your lashes, offering her your sweetest smile. “Please, Em?”
It does not go according to plan. She scoffs.
“Are you flirting with me right now?”
“... Would that work?”
“Oh my god, just… cool it with the fuck-me eyes,” she laughs. “You can have the drink.”
You sit up, turning just barely over your shoulder to address Spencer.
“See? Emily buys me drinks. Basically.”
She slides the drink toward you, with a subtle roll of her eyes that you choose to interpret as affectionate under the dim canned lighting. As you sit back, content and free drink in hand, her eyes slide to Reid in the seat next to you, brows arching.
“Are you sure you can handle her all on your own?”
“Handle me?” You frown deeply as Emily gathers her purse and slides out of the booth, followed shortly thereafter by JJ. “I don’t need handling.”
“Then why do you have a handler?” JJ teases.
You slump against the worn vinyl, stirring what is mostly orange juice.
“He most definitely is not my handler. He’s my science project.”
“I got it,” Spencer assures your friends, with his trademark flattened smile. You can’t help but watch him with a grin of your own, flipping the straw in the drink and nibbling on the end until it’s stained sparkly pink. Goodbyes are issued, and soon it’s just the two of you. Perhaps it’s a tipsy delusion, but you think he seems to relax slightly when you’re alone. His eyes are easy on you. “You know, you’re not actually decreasing the amount of germ transmission by using the other end of the straw.”
“Mm… pretty sure alcohol kills germs, Doctor.”
At that, you giggle.
Doctor.
Soon you’re covering your face and having a full-fledged laugh attack.
“What?” Spencer asks. From between your fingers you can see that he’s smiling guardedly, brows furrowed in a way that reminds you he’s often worried about being the butt of a joke and not knowing it. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing,” you assure him quickly, gathering yourself. “I just… can’t believe you’re a doctor.”
“Why not? What’s so unbelievable about that?”
“You’re so young.”
And handsome.
“I’m not that young. I’m older than you,” he defends. Only by a handful of years, but you know he’s defensive about his age after a lifetime of being told he looks young for—well, everything.
“You’re… 32?”
That’s not right—you know as soon as you say it.
“Thirty three.” He very politely captures a hand—your hand—that had at some point ended up a little too close to his eye. You’re not sure what you planned to do once it got there—you don’t recall moving it at all.
“Sorry.” You take your hand back, choosing to instead fiddle with a button on his coat ponderously. “33 is a good age.”
“Yeah?” Spencer laughs, angling his head as if to regard you from a new angle. It warms you all over. Burns in some places, like a shot of liquor down your throat. Makes you just as dizzy, too. “You have a lot of experience being thirty three?”
“No, I just…” your cheeks heat and you wrestle with a timid smile, averting your gaze and dropping your hand for fear his grin this close up might actually kill you. “I like 33 year old you.”
“So��� you didn’t like me when I was thirty two?”
“Stop,” you beg, a self-effacing laugh into the cup of your palm. “I can’t banter. I’m not at peak performance.”
The truth of it hits you, and you sigh, folding your arms on the table and resting your cloudy head. Only then, from this new perspective, do you allow yourself to fully admire Spencer Reid. He is smiling at you, and your heart does skip a beat like you’ve got some school girl crush. These days he wears his hair falling over his face, messy on purpose, and always smells so nice. You wonder when he started caring about that stuff. You want to see what products are in his shower, and learn why he chose that cologne, or how he decides to pair his socks. He probably has some sort of algorithm.
“Spencer,” you begin, the serious quality of your voice diminished by the smush of your cheek against your arm. Still, he tries to respect your tone, zipping the smile and answering with a playfully twitching brow.
“Hm?”
You want to push the hair out of his face. Why is he looking down at you like that? Like he likes you?
“You’re a very good handler.”
His eyes narrow as he considers this, but the glimmer in them could still spark a forest fire. You’re probably grinning like an idiot.
“Oh, I couldn’t handle you. You know this.”
You hum thoughtfully.
“I bet you could. Wanna try?”
Spencer shakes his head, huffing a laugh through his nose. To his credit, your bold-face innuendos don’t always send him into a tailspin these days.
Just sometimes.
“You need a ride home, don’t you?”
You sit back up, stretching your arms out.
“You don’t have to. I could get a cab.”
“I know,” he assures you, still a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. Why. Is. He. Looking. At. You. Like. That?
“Will you let me drive?”
“I would. But, you know, my affairs aren’t in order.”
You roll your eyes as he gets out of the booth and offers you a hand.
“I’m not that drunk.”
Spencer just wiggles his fingers.
“If you can recite the alphabet in reverse you can drive my car.”
You roll your eyes again. Obviously he’s fucking with you, because 1. He’d never let you drive even the slightest bit inebriated, and 2. He knows you can’t say your ABC’s backward when you’re dead sober.
The truth is you’re more buzzed than anything. You could get up and walk fine without any assistance, but he’s offering you his hand, so you take it. After you’re standing, you wonder how many excuses could you possibly dream up to get it back in yours. Should you pretend to fall?
No. Not quite worth your self respect.
“You know…” you muse, reveling in the brief brush of him against your back as he holds open the door for you, “it’s a good thing you didn’t become, like… a medical doctor.”
Now walking side by side on the street, he glances over at you, a poorly veiled smile on his perfect face. Like a trap door brushed over with a few leaves. He wants you to see it.
“Why’s that?”
A breeze ruffles your hair. The brisk cold and the walk seem to be making things crisper already. You shrug, bunching your sleeves in your hands against the increasingly frigid night. The skirt and tights you’d chosen were perfect for a stuffy dive bar. Not so much for an early DC spring.
“Nobody wants a hot doctor.”
He looks down at the sidewalk, hands pocketed, but the curve of his lips doesn’t lessen.
“Hm. You’re drunker than I thought.”
“What? No! I’m—barely!” Again he laughs at you, and again you flush, looking down and counting the cracks in the pavement as you journey slowly under the bath of yellow street lights. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you called me hot.” He sounds almost delighted as he grins sheepishly around the final word.
You snort. You’ve said worse things, more graphic things within the past few hours alone—but you suppose they’ve all been more like dirty jokes than compliments.
“Yeah. You think you aren’t?”
Sandy locks fall side to side as he carefully measures a response. His cologne is warm—sort of smoky. It’s very nice. He doesn’t seem like he’d wear cologne. Have you already thought about his cologne tonight? Once was probably enough.
“I just think sober you wouldn’t have said that.”
“But don’t you prefer it when I’m aggressively flirting with you? I mean, I know I do it sober too, but it's not as good, right?”
A silent stretch begins and shortly ends, and you don’t mind it. Right now, everything is a winding path through the woods. You’re willing to follow any fork off the trail if it means spending more time with him.
“I guess I wasn’t aware that was what you were doing.”
“Oh, bullshit,” you laugh, and it echoes through the canyon of a nearby alley, “I’m not subtle, Reid.”
“I don’t know! You—for all I know that’s just how you are! I mean, what did Emily call them earlier, your—your fuck-me eyes?”
Like he does when he’s flustered, he gets shrill and stuttery. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s still a complete dork on the inside—and the outside, too, as pink stains his cheeks like watercolor. You smirk at him in your periphery, watching him against the darkened city backdrop.
“You noticed those, huh?”
“No,” he denies forcefully, but his brow is pinched like he doesn’t quite believe himself, “I mean, yes, I notice when you look at other people like that, but that’s not what I would call them—I wouldn’t call them anything, I’d just call them your eyes, you know? Not that you always look like you’re soliciting… the implication isn’t there, it’s just—I notice when you flirt with other people! With Emily, and Derek, like, not even half an hour ago. You’re lucky Hotch wasn’t there. You’d probably have given him a heart attack.”
“I’m more concerned with yours, to be honest.”
“My heart is fine,” he laughs. “Worry about my dignity.”
“Hm. I was going for both. Guess I’d better try harder.”
You don’t notice you’ve come to a stop until you’re face to face in front of his vintage Volvo. Spencer is standing closer than usual, hands perpetually stuck in that nice wool coat. He’s all windswept and pretty, smiling crookedly and eyes sparkly with humor. A strand of hair sticks to your lip gloss, and you brush it away, tucking it behind your ear and squinting up at him against the chilly breeze. The flush is either from the nip in the air or your brazen flirting.
“Or, you could go easy on me. I’m frail. Like a… sickly Victorian child.”
Again his brow knits and he smiles like he knows what he’s said is ridiculous. But his tone is gentler now. Softer. Invites you to fall in deeper and see what you might find.
“And ruin all my fun? Toughen up, Reid.”
For a long moment, you don’t get a response—only his eyes, soft and thoughtful on you, before you’re distracted by the sweet bow of his lips. If he notices you’re staring, it doesn’t seem to bother him.
But something evidently does, as when he next speaks, it’s troubled. Curiosity straining against a rope that says maybe it’s better if I don’t ask.
“Do… do you actually flirt with me? When you’re sober, I mean.”
He expects to be ridiculed. In his most vulnerable moments, he’s still bracing for rejection—turning his cheek slightly so he’s ready for the stinging blow. It opens a fissure in your chest. You frown, and speak gently.
“Yeah, Spence. More than anyone else. You really don’t notice?”
Sometimes his face is so expressive, in the pull of his brow and tightening of his eyes and the way he wets his lips. But he probably doesn’t know that. And he can’t seem to meet your eyes, instead choosing to study the leather of your heeled boots. Sounds of late-night traffic, of tires on wet asphalt buffer the pauses between sentences.
“I notice… when you talk to Derek and Emily and JJ and Penelope the exact same way you talk to me. I didn’t think…”
Another gap in conversation, filled with the chatter of some group pouring out of a bar somewhere. You realize he’ll need some gentle prompting to bridge it.
“You didn’t think what?”
When his eyes flash back up to meet yours, you have a feeling like he’s shutting the pipes off.
“It’s—uh—” he clears his throat— “it’s not important, we can—we’ll talk about it a different time. We should—”
“Wait.”
He’d been turning away but snaps right back to look at you as if on command, wearing a brand new face that tells you he’d like to wipe the past minute or so completely away.
“Yeah?”
“Spencer. I wanna know what you were going to say.”
“I told you. It’s nothing.”
“You didn’t tell me. You mumbled evasively and walked away. We were in the middle of something and I want to know what you were going to say. Please?”
“Well, you’re drunk,” he finally sighs, and it’s a bit sharp. Stinging.
“I am not drunk,” you defend, and it feels true, with a bitter cold lashing at your cheek and blood heightened from the walk. “You know I’m not too drunk to have a coherent conversation. Why are you being weird?”
“Because I asked you to drop it! We can’t have this conversation right now, all right? I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Your stomach flips, and your breath comes a little heavier. Spencer is clearly frustrated with you. Maybe being on the wrong end of this mild vexation, and so suddenly, should make you feel guilty, or some kind of bad—but all you feel is a sort of buzz in the tips of your fingers and the thrum of your heart, something deeper than excitement pooling in your veins at having inspired this sort of passion. It means he feels something. Something for you.
“I’m sorry,” he tries halfheartedly, unable or more likely unwilling to stay angry at you for very long, “you didn’t—”
“What conversation?”
It’s jarring how quickly this has spun on its head. The very air you’re breathing seems to have changed. The metropolitan soundscape is a rife undercurrent of tension and louder from all the words unsaid.
Finally he swallows.
“There’s no conversation. I’m—it was a poor choice of wording. I just meant we should get you home.”
Before he can make it to the driver’s side door, you’re calling out.
“You think I don’t like you. And I just flirt with you ‘cause I flirt with everyone.”
Spencer stops, and turns to face you once more, sighing and head dropped to one side like you’re doing something incredibly inconsiderate. He’s never looked at you like that before, but you don’t let it shake you.
“That’s what this is about, right?”
He says your name, but you don’t let him get further than that.
“No, I think there is a conversation here, and saying I’m not sober enough to have it isn’t fair and you should have said something before and I think you should just say it now.”
You’re pushing his buttons with a heavy hand, though your own voice shakes. He’s feeling it too—you’ve never been so short with each other. His voice is raised.
“What am I supposed to say?”
It boils over.
“That you like me!”
It rings.
Then it’s silent.
His face is mostly blank. A little sorrowful around his eyes.
It’s cold, jumping into the deep end like this.
“We can’t talk about this right now,” he finally says, glancing to the side as if to suggest a situation the size of the whole city.
“Spencer, I—”
“It’s impossible to have a meaningful discussion until your judgement isn’t impaired, otherwise it’s—”
“I am telling you that I flirt with you because I really like you.”
“I—”
It appears you’ve truly thrown him for a loop. For a moment his jaw works at nothing, a soliloquy of words go unspoken, and then he’s stuttering and fumbling for the right thing to say, looking everywhere but at you.
“I can’t—that’s—regardless of whether or not it’s even true—”
“It is true.”
“Could you—stop?” He pleads. “You can’t tell me that. I mean, the power imbalance when you’ve been drinking and I haven’t—it’s—I mean, it's coercive. Because I brought it up, I asked an inappropriate question—or at least started to ask it, and you—not that it was your fault, I’m the responsible party in this instance, but if tomorrow you realize you never wanted to tell me—so I have to take that with a grain of salt. I’m just—I have to pretend I didn’t hear that, alright? And you can’t say it again.”
He’s ridiculous. You shift your weight onto one foot casually.
“That’s not very nice. I just confessed to having a huge crush on you and you’re gonna leave me hanging?”
There is an undeniable sort of pleasure in the bright of his eyes, and you phrased it that way on purpose, just to see him preen and glow—also to see if you could make him trip all over himself some more. Right now, despite the liminal space your relationship may or may not be occupying, you’re teasing him like you always do. Like he’s a friend, because he is. Before anything else.
He tries to glower, barely.
“Were you listening to me at all?”
“It was hard with all the stammering. I thought you might pass out.”
“I might,” he grumbles, and the admission pleases you greatly. Your lips tug as you admire him for a moment—watch his defenses go down and his features ease into something more inviting.
God, maybe you really had been too hard on him. Maybe he really didn’t expect that you would like him back.
You’re struck with the need to reassure.
A dampened clack emits from your shoe where the heel hits the ground as you step down off the curb.
“You know… I do like you. A lot. I mean it. And I’m glad I told you, because... you like me too, right?”
He raises his brows, like don’t do anything stupid, as you approach unhurriedly. It’s good to see that you haven’t broken his spirit completely.
Less than a foot away, you stop. Close enough to be in his space. Too far for him to have the grounds to step back.
His eyes are careful on you, analytical as always, constantly predicting an infinite number of outcomes to any given scenario. That’s how he keeps his footing in the world. But he’s never very good at predicting you. And it helps that his razor sharp intellect is dulled, some, with affection. Attraction.
It shows in his eyes. He’ll let you push boundaries he knows he shouldn’t. More so if you keep speaking to him this softly. Almost whispering.
“Tell me you like me, Spencer.”
Because he hasn’t yet. All the heavy lifting has been done for him, and that just won’t do.
First, he opens his mouth, and you watch the internal debate, a million things he could say, spinning round in his eyes like pinwheels. Rules, and buts, and caveats.
In the end, he just clears his throat. Speaks in the same secretive tone. Low enough to be intimate.
“I like you.”
Such a simple thing has never made you feel so airy before in your life. You steal another glance at his lips.
“So it’s really not that complicated. We could probably just kiss.”
He tinges pink.
“We definitely can’t.”
“You also said we couldn’t talk about it, and yet…”
“Talking is different. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you say to me tonight is binding. Whatever just transpired happened completely off the record. We can… talk about it tomorrow, but right now, you and I are friends.”
You shrug.
“Friends can kiss.”
“No, they can’t,” he says definitively, though not without a healthy dose of sardonic self-awareness and a dark smile. His hand finds your waist, and it’s glancing, if anything a light push, but you’re delighted nonetheless. Almost as pleased as if he really had kissed you. “It’s cold. I’m ready to leave.”
You’ve pushed him enough for one night. And it is cold. So you shuffle around the car with quick steps to the passenger side door, hooking your fingers under the biting metal handle and waiting for him to unlock the vehicle.
You’re shivering as your thighs press against leather upholstery, only the thinnest layer of synthetic material protecting your legs. Spencer is already starting the car, but the engine is too cold to bother turning the heat on yet.
“I think it’s colder in here than outside. Look at my hand.” You hold it up for him, and it is discolored, waxy, as he mindlessly takes it between his own much warmer ones. “I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm. Didn’t that chef on the Titanic survive hours in the ocean because he was hammered?”
“That’s a myth. Not the chef—he did survive, but it was a complete anomaly. Alcohol causes vasodilation in the dermis layer of the skin, so you feel warmer, but it draws blood flow away from your internal organs and significantly raises your likelihood of developing hypothermia.”
Does he notice how he’s holding your hand? Carefully pressing his thumbs to the center of your palm and pushing up through your love and life lines, cupping the fingers, before sandwiching them between his own and generating friction the way a child furiously rolls a play-doh worm?
“I guess I’m really not that drunk, then.”
He’s not expecting it, and maybe he doesn’t know what to make of your exceptionally gentle tone at first. It was a mistake, you think, as he relinquishes his hold on your hand, and you curl it to retain the memory of his warmth. But then he tucks hair behind your ear, like he’s done once or twice before, and smiles in a way you don’t quite understand.
“I know.”
You won’t push him. You won’t ask for anything else, and you won’t demand an explanation. Spencer is special. It can all wait, because you have something good with him already. Something important. Something like holding hands.
It comes as a surprise when he leans across the console, and you lean in a trance to meet him, and another surprise when he gently redirects, pressing his lips to your cheek, close enough to match the corners of your mouths and nothing more.
You’d let him do it a hundred times over, but he draws back after a fraction of a lingering second, and finds your hand to stroke the back of it, forgotten in your lap.
“You said no kissing,” you murmur, as if in a dream. If you had the wherewithal to be embarrassed maybe you wouldn’t be ogling so much.
“Compromise.”
If anything, you should be the cheek-kisser. But there will be time to feel slighted about that later. Time to amend. For now, you look ahead robotically.
“Is there a rule against friendly hand-holding?”
“Probably,” he says.
But he lets you hold his hand in your lap the whole drive to your apartment, anyway.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic
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MORE THAN PRETEND 愛。 fake relationship
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𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───tired of playing pretend, they want to make it official with you
𝑜𝑓 ܃ fake bf!enhypen x f!r 2739 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons fluff fake dating au ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 skinship kissing jealousy suggestive? 。。。 / ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 )
૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა wow this could've been better, i rushed a lil TT but hope you guys enjoy ^^ !
reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks
LEE HEESEUNG
heeseung’s always been the cool, nonchalant type—someone who can laugh off pretty much anything with that easygoing smirk of his. so, when one of your guy friends throws a casual arm around your shoulders during a group hangout, you expect heeseung to ignore it or joke in to the gossip, at least that's what he should do since you're not his real girlfriend. instead, he goes silent, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he watches the interaction with a clenched jaw.
the shift is subtle, but you know him too well. he doesn’t move from where he’s leaning against the wall, but the way his gaze follows your every move is unnerving.
“you good?” you ask, stepping closer after the gathering got over, and tugging lightly on his sleeve. his eyes snap to yours, and for a second, something almost dangerous flickers behind them before he masks it with a tight-lipped smile.
“yeah, i'm good.” his voice is flat, the usual playful tone gone. “didn't know you two were that close.”
you arch an eyebrow, tilting your head. “what, jealous?” you tease, hoping to break the tension, cracking him a smile.
heeseung lets out a humourless chuckle, his gaze sliding back to where your friend was standing. “of him? please.” the words are dismissive, but there’s a sharp edge underneath. heeseung finally pushes off the wall and closes the distance between you, his tall frame towering over yours as he dips his head down, his hand slowly caressing your upper hand. “but just so you know,” he murmurs lowly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that only you can hear, “i’m your boyfriend, even if it’s fake. he doesn’t get to touch you like that.”
before you can respond, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. the way he holds you is different—no teasing, no joking, just a raw, simmering intensity that makes your heart race.
PARK JONGSEONG
calm and collected are two adjectives that can define jay the best, a total gentleman— a perfect choice to play your fake boyfriend, the best fake plus one for your uncle's wedding. but tonight, at the party, you see his mask slip. it’s subtle at first—the way his eyes harden when he spots you talking to some random guy by the drinks table, swiftly turning his head away. he doesn't think much of it until the guy leans in closer, saying something that makes you laugh.
that’s when jay moves. he’s at your side in an instant, so swift you down even realise his imposing presence as he slides an arm around your shoulders. “hey,” he says, his voice light but his grip firm. “who’s your new friend?”
you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanour. “oh, uh—a family friend,” you answer, a tight lipped smile, but jay’s gaze doesn’t leave the guy’s face.
“right.” his smile is strained, more of a baring of teeth than an expression of friendliness. the guy glances between you and jay, looking a bit uncomfortable before mumbling an excuse and walking away.
as soon as he’s gone, jay pulls you closer, his hand slipping down to your waist, fingers digging in ever so slightly, your back hitting his chest. “next time,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath travelling softly down to your neck, “just tell him you have a boyfriend—me.” his voice is low and intense, vibrating through you.
your heart skips a beat. “jay, it’s not—”
“real? yeah, i know,” he cuts you off, turning you to face him. his dark eyes bore into yours, darting across your face real quick, resring on your lips. “but i don’t care. i don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you,” he leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours, “even if this is just pretend… you’re mine.”
SIM JAEYUN
the party is loud, laughter and music filling the air as you stand awkwardly by the punch table, watching jake from a distance. he’s talking to someone, a girl with long hair and a smile that lights up her face. his ex. you bite your lips, feeling a dull ache in your chest. it's silly—you’re not even really dating, but seeing him so at ease with her, leaning in to listen, his familiar grin in place, makes your heart clench, makes you feel it was you making his heart flutter instead.
they look like a perfect couple. a real couple, with real feelings for each other.
you turn away, trying to shake off the pang of insecurity by getting out of this place. but before you can slip out of sight, a familiar voice stops you.
“hey, what’s with the long face?”
you glance up, startled to find jake standing right in front of you, concern etched in his features. “n-nothing,” you mumble, forcing a smile. “just —felt out of place, i guess.”
jake’s gaze softens as if he can see right through your flimsy excuse. he steps closer, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a worry line that you hadn’t realised had formed. he leans in ever so close, “is it because of her?” he asks softly, nodding back toward his ex. when you don’t respond, he leans in, his eyes locking with yours. “you know she’s just the past, right?”
“but you looked so happy, jake! and we're not even—” “i’m only yours, you hear me?” he whispers fiercely, his fingers tightening around your waist, pulling you into him. “fake or not, you’re the one i want to be with.” his voice is low, almost pleading. “i’m not going anywhere.”
warmth blooms in your chest, melting away the doubts. and when he kisses your forehead gently, it’s like the final seal on his promise.
PARK SUNGHOON
the elevator doors slide shut, leaving just you and sunghoon in the small, enclosed space. his shoulders brush against yours, a stark reminder of how close you’re standing. you glance up at him nervously, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the tense set of his shoulders. why does he look so annoyed? he hasn’t said a word since you two left the event.
you press the button for your floor, stealing another look at him. he’s staring straight ahead, expression unreadable, but you can tell something’s different today. his jaw is clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets, tension radiating from him.
it hits you then—he saw you talking to that guy earlier. your colleague from work, who’s been too friendly lately.
the elevator jolts slightly as it begins its ascent, and the silence stretches. you clear your throat, shifting nervously, taking a quick glance at his side profile, “sunghoon, about earlier—”
“does he always touch you like that?” his voice is low, cold even, cutting through the still air like a blade, face away from yours, looking straight ahead.
you blink, caught off guard by the question. “what?”
he turns to you, stepping closer until the space between you is almost nonexistent. “your ‘friend’ at the office,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing, leaning his head down as he loosens his tie. “he seemed too comfortable.”
you feel a flicker of heat rising in your chest—he’s jealous. But why? “sunghoon, it’s not—”
“i don’t care what you think it is.” his hand reaches out, gripping the side of the elevator wall beside your head, caging you in. his breath hitches as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. “we might be pretending, but i don’t like it when anyone else looks at you that way. you’re mine.”
the possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. your heart pounds as you try to process the sudden shift in his demeanour, the unspoken intensity in his eyes, the impossibly fast heartbeat of yours.
“we’re not real, remember?” you manage to whisper, though your body betrays you, leaning into the space between you two.
“then tell me,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. his fingers brush lightly against your waist, the touch sending shivers down your spine. “why does it hurt so much seeing another guy looking at you?”
you stare at him, mouth dry, as his eyes drop to your lips.
“i don’t want to pretend anymore,” he whispers, “please..” a desperate plea from his lips as his hands control itself to not pull you in, but you don't wait, and close the gap between your lips. and he pulls you closer, bodies clashing against each other as the kiss escalates. he smirks into the kiss, you're his for real now.
KIM SUNOO
it’s pouring rain, and you’re soaked to the bone, standing under a bus stop shelter that does little to keep you dry. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting your umbrella, shivering as the cold wind cuts through your drenched clothes. just when you think your day can’t get any worse, a familiar car pulls up beside the curb, headlights cutting through the downpour.
the passenger window rolls down, and there he is—kim sunoo, your ‘fake’ boyfriend, his brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and concern. “get in before you freeze,” he calls out, voice muffled by the sound of the rain.
you don’t need to be told twice. you scramble into the car, teeth chattering as you tug the door shut behind you. the warmth of the heater engulfs you instantly, and sunoo’s jacket is shoved into your hands before you can even register what’s happening. “you’re going to catch a cold,” he scolds, his voice laced with worry as he glances at your shivering form, “why didn't you call me?”
you blink up at him, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “i … i didn’t want to bother you.”
sunoo sighs, leaning closer until you can see every droplet of rain clinging to his hair, every crease in his usually cheerful face. “idiot,” he murmurs, voice low and filled with something you can’t quite name. “you’re never a bother to me.”
your heart skips as he reaches out, brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead with gentle fingers. his hand lingers, thumb tracing your chilled cheek softly.
for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he reaches over, wiping a raindrop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, the gesture so gentle it makes your heart skip. “do you know how worried i was? pretend or not, i don’t want to see you like this,” he murmurs, his hand lingering near your face.
before you can respond, he leans over and tucks the jacket around your shoulders, pulling you close until you’re huddled against his chest and neck. “you’re mine to worry about,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then one on the bridge of your nose.
in that moment, under the sound of rain and the warmth of his embrace, it doesn’t feel like an act anymore.
YANG JUNGWON
it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. the plan was rather simple—show up together at the dinner, play the perfect couple in front of his friends, and go home as usual. but then the storm hit, trapping you at his apartment afterward, the rain pouring down outside in heavy sheets, drenching the city.
jungwon sits beside you on the couch, the dim glow of the lamp casting shadows across his sharp features, and you force yourself to look away. his jacket is discarded on the floor, sleeves rolled up as he runs a hand through his damp hair, frustrated by the turn of events. he looks too handsome right now.
it’s quiet, too quiet, with only the sound of rain tapping against the windows.
“looks like you’re stuck here,” he says, leaning back casually, but there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore. you tug the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to stay calm, but the warmth of the apartment and the intimacy of the moment is starting to make you nervous.
“i'll crash on the couch,” you mutter awkwardly, avoiding his gaze, but jungwon’s eyes are on you, piercing, like he’s studying every inch of your face. he doesn’t say anything at first, but then he moves closer, his knee brushing against yours, you shiver.
“you don’t have to,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver through you. his hand rests lightly on your knee, but it’s enough to make your heart race. “you can take the bed.”
before you can respond, jungwon cups your chin gently, turning your face toward his. his touch is soft but firm, like he’s been holding back for too long. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch, as his as well.
“we don’t have to pretend all the time, you know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something real, “it's getting so hard for me…”
your heart skips a beat, and suddenly the fake relationship feels far too real. “jungwon, what are you saying?” you ask, your voice trembling as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, hands falling down to your waist to pull you closer.
“i'm saying,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours, “that i want to kiss you, but in a real boyfriend way, and love you too while at that.”
the rain continues to fall outside, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart as his lips brush softly against yours, the kiss gentle but full of unspoken emotions, before it quickly melts to an intense one. he pulls away slightly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers, “stay with me tonight… for real.”
NISHIMURA RIKI
you never expected to find yourself in a fake relationship with riki, of all people—the energetic, mischievous older brother of your best friend. when he overheard you venting about your annoying ex constantly showing up at your favourite hangouts, he had put up a sly smirk and volunteered to be your fake boyfriend.
“think of it as a win-win. i get to mess with people’s heads, and you get a human shield. plus,” he had said, winking playfully, “it’ll be fun.”
you should’ve known that riki’s idea of ‘fun’ involved way more than you’d bargained for.
tonight, at your favourite late-night café, you spot your ex walking in, scanning the crowd. you freeze, heart thudding. before you can react, riki slides his arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. his scent—a mix of citrus and something else uniquely him—makes your pulse spike. it’s only for show, you remind yourself. except … he’s suddenly so convincing.
“hey, baby, you okay?” riki’s voice is loud enough to catch your ex’s attention, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. he leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling your ear. “you’re all tense.”
you fight the shiver that runs down your spine. “stop playing around,” you mutter, but he just smirks.
“i’m not playing,” he murmurs back, eyes twinkling. his gaze flicks toward your ex, who’s now glaring at you both, and riki’s grip tightens around you possessively. “i told you i’m the best at this.”
the next thing you know, riki’s turning you slightly in his arms, cupping your cheek in a way that looks so natural it makes your heart skip. the café lights catch on the gleam in his eyes—intense, focused. your ex is staring daggers at him now, but riki pays him no mind. instead, his thumb brushes your jaw softly, his face hovering inches from yours.
“relax, would you?” he murmurs, but his voice has lost its teasing edge. there’s something almost… protective in the way he’s watching you.
“riki —” you start, but he cuts you off by leaning even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me handle this.”
before you can process his words, he pulls you flush against him, his eyes never leaving your ex’s face. then, with a cocky grin, he dips his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.
you freeze, heart pounding. when he finally pulls back, his gaze meets yours, unreadable. “there,” he says softly, still holding you close. “you’re mine now. got it?” and from the look on his face, you’re not entirely sure he’s pretending anymore.
© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission / div cr plutism
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141 as clients for sexworker reader!
//König and Nikto are here too//
MDNI
Ghost
You rarely see him, but you look forward to hearing from him. He always books multiple hours, sometimes even overnights. It's just hour after hour of pounding. Every hole you can take it. You tell him not to leave marks, but you don't really mean it. You know it. He knows it. Bitemarks and bruises are on your skin for days afterwards, he pays for you to send pictures of them healing. Thank God your regulars don't give a shit about the marks. Even if they did you wouldn't stop him from leaving them. Can't really stop him from leaving them. He asks you to wear makeup so he can fuck it off your face. You recently found out he's been stealing your fake eyelashes when they fall off, he collects them like trophies(???) Only praises you when he's felt you've earned it, which was rare. Never said I love you. Don't think he knows those words.
Gaz
Ugh, perfect client. Always a gentleman and really hot. Like "why are you hiring me when you can fuck anybody?" hot. Such a pretty dick too, has a little beauty mark on his shaft you like to kiss. He books three hours every other week just to cuddle and fuck. Really big on pleasing you, so he'll request you not to wear underwear just so he can pull your pants down as soon as you walk through his door and start eating you out. Sometimes when he really wants the "girlfriend experience" he'll slide into you while your spooning and watching Netflix. Has accidently said "I love you" once while ploughing into you, his lips pressed right up to your ear. You don't bring it up.
Price
One of the older clients. Big pussy eater. Huge. Likes to hire you to do stuff around his flat in a skirt and g-string so he can pull it to the side and eat you out while you're doing whatever he asks you to do. Watching TV? Cleaning the windows? Folding laundry? Sometimes he just straight up wants you to sit on his face, holding the skirt up so he can still see your face. When he's finally satiated, he'll get his. Sitting you on his lap and helping you bounce up and down, still in that skirt. Says I love you, but not to you. To your pussy. Literally looks at your pussy and says it.
Soap
So, so weird. Likes to act out scenes he sees in porn. Seriously. Like "help me I'm stuck in the washing machine" or "did you order a pizza with extra sausage". He'll buy outfits for the scenes; cheerleader, nurse, maid, even has a oddly realistic army uniform, right down to the boots. You get the point. One day he wanted to "try ass stuff", because he thought it "looked cool". He said I love you as soon as you stuck the tip of your strap-on in him and continues to do so every time you fuck him in the ass.
König
Yeah... Sorry to be basic but he's a bondage guy through and through. He likes to switch it up sometimes but he's mostly the dominating party. Not the kind to care about fancy shibari, really just hogties and knots that will keep you in your place. Taught you a few moves to take him down when he wants that. Wants you to use him for your pleasure when you're dominating, just like he uses you for his own. Doesn't say I love you. But he does teach you to say "I am yours" in German. So whenever he asks you a question in German, your line is always "Ja, Ich bin dein, Oberst."
Nikto
Very clingy. He was odd off rip. You were kind of uncomfortable with him because you didn't really understand him. Then he became endearing when you finally "get" him. He's sweet. Doesn't want to be alone. He'll pay anything just to have you sit next to him. Watching TV. He sits on the floor between your legs while you sit on the couch and play with his hair. He tells you lame jokes while eating whatever you wanted that day. One day you decide to tell him a corny joke too.
"We... don't think that is very funny."
Of course, he has needs. It depends on the day, but he's always changing the dynamics. Very much a switch at heart. He'll have you bent over the table while holding your jaw to look up into his eyes. Making you say thank you everytime he strokes into you. Other days he'll want to be rode while you hold him, "handsome man," you say between every kiss, "love you so much," while he whimpers under you, "you deserve to feel good." He says I love you. A lot. You say it back. Whether it's because you want to continue getting paid or you actually care about him, you're not too sure at this point.
#this ones a little self indulgent#short stuff#cod x reader#cod#cod mw2#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#soap x you#johnny soap mactavish#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mctavish x reader#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#konig x you#konig x reader#konig cod#nikto x reader#cod nikto#call of duty nikto#price x you#price x reader#captain price#soap x reader#soap cod#john price x reader
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17. make me juno cw: smut, p in v sex
utahime’s voice rang out, sharp and clear. “and… cut! that’s a wrap for today, everyone. great work!”
the film crew burst into scattered applause, and you stepped off the set, running your hand through your slightly dishevelled hair.
“you did amazing, sweets,” gojo said as he passed. he offered you a tired but genuine smile. “hope i didn’t spook you when i picked you up earlier,”
“oh heavens no, gojo! i didn’t mind it in the slightest! like seriously, throwing me over your shoulders? you’re really strong.”
“yeah, ‘m the strongest!” you giggled in response. “so, sweets, would you like to get dinner together tonight? haven’t hung out with you since we watched scream together— kinda miss you.” he gave you a small pout and tucked a strand of your dishevelled hair behind your ear.
“i’d love to gojo, but! i have dinner plans tonight… maybe next time?” dinner plans. he stiffened. who rejects the satoru gojo for dinner plans? no, the bigger question was who exactly do you have plans with? “yeah..! that’s fine with me, sweets.” he smiled weakly then walked off.
as you exited the lobby, your eyes scanned the small crowd milling around the entrance. then you saw him— nanami, waiting for you, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. you smiled, quickening her pace. “kento, hi! sorry, did you wait long?”
nanami looked over and shot you a soft smile. “no, not at all. i just finished up my photoshoot.”
you two started walking together to his car— a volvo s90. the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. he opened the passenger door for you as you slid into the seat, the soft leather cool against your skin. you rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through your chest. “a gentleman, huh?” he chuckled at your comment.
nanami closed the door with care and rounded the car to the driver’s side. moments later, he was in the seat beside you, adjusting the music to a mellow playlist as he started the car. the drive was smooth, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold as they passed. conversation flowed effortlessly between you two—small talk, laughter.
twenty minutes later, he turned down a quiet road that led to a fancy townhouse neighbourhood. as he stepped out, you reached for the door handle, but before you could open it, he was there, pulling it open for you.
“still playing the gentleman, i see,” you said, stepping out.
“of course,” the blonde replied, offering his hand. you took it, feeling a pleasant flutter in your chest as your fingers brushed.
“this is incredible, kento,” you said, twirling a forkful of spaghetti. he smiled, twirling his own fork. “i could send you the recipe if you’d like.”
as you two ate, the conversation flowed as easily as the wine in your glasses. They talked about work, your mutual friends (shoko, utahime, gojo), and travel dreams. every so often, laughter would fill the room, blending with the crackle of the candle.
“so, what did you want to discuss? you sounded pretty serious over text…” you asked, finishing up your plate of spaghetti.
“well,” he said slowly, running a hand through his hair, his laugh awkward. “it’s just— something’s been on my mind for a while. and i figured, you know, it’s something you should be aware of…”
you tilted your head. “okay… now you’re scaring me. spit it out.”
he took a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours. “we attended high school together. at tokyo jujutsu high.”
“oh! really? no wonder why your name sounded so familiar… you were friends with haibara, right? i remember seeing you a few times in the halls waiting for him after math?”
he nodded. “yes. um… do you remember that party senior year? at mei mei’s place?”
you blinked, thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. “uh… vaguely? why?”
nanami hesitated again, then decided to just rip off the band-aid. “we hooked up that night.”
the words hung in the air like an unexpected gust of wind, making you blink again, harder this time.
“what?” you said, leaning back as if to process his statement better.
“we… had a one-night stand,” he said, his voice softer now. “you’d had a few drinks, i’d had a few drinks, and… yeah. it happened.”
you stared at him, her mind racing. “no way… that was you?!”
“yes, it was,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you didn’t bring it up the next day. i figured you didn’t want to talk about it so i just… didn’t say anything.”
“kento!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing. “are you serious right now?”
“completely,” he said, his expression equal parts apologetic and nervous. “i’m not telling you this to make it weird or anything. i realized that when we met, you didn’t seem to know who i was. it felt wrong if you weren’t aware of who you had sex with…”
you let out a long breath, your mind replaying snippets of that party. the memory was blurry, but there were flashes— nanami laughing with you in the kitchen, you two sitting too close in mei mei’s guest bedroom, a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen.
“oh my god—” you finally said, covering your face with your hands. for a moment, you two sat in silence, the weight of the revelation settling in you. then, to his surprise, you started giggling. “kento, do you know how desperate i’ve been to find you?”
“pardon?” he asked, as confusion settled in him.
you shook your head, still laughing. “i just… i can’t believe that i lost my v-card to the kento nanami! i’ve been thinking about that party ever since it happened!”
nanami smiled, relieved that she wasn’t angry, however concern showing on his face. “you… you lost your virginity to me? i am so terribly sorry… is there something i could do to make it up to you?”
“don’t be. if anything, it honestly best fuck of my life.”
“fair enough.” he laughed, the tension finally breaking.
you took another sip of wine, your eyes glinting with mischief. “but, if you really would like to make it up to me, i don’t mind recreating what we did that night.”
as you straddled nanami’s lap on the couch, the soft cushions enveloped you two, making it feel like they were in you little world. his eyes locked onto yours, the desire in them making your heart skip a beat.
you settled into his lap, your legs wrapping around his hips as you began to move. his hands rose, gripping your hips as he guided you, his fingers digging into your skin.
the couch creaked softly as you two moved, the sound mingling with your ragged breathing. you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "i want you."
"fuck, you feel incredible, darling," he groaned, his voice strained. his hands tightened on your hips as he pulled you down harder. you began to ride him faster, your hips moving in a circular motion as you chased the pleasure. your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. "ah—! harder, please. ‘fuh me like you did back then."
nanami began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you matched his pace. the couch creaked with the frantic movements, the sound only adding to the erotic atmosphere. plap plap plap!
"you feel so fucking good, love," nanami grunted, his eyes locked with yours. "'m not going to last long."
"i–i don't want you to," you panted, your face flushed with arousal. “wanna feel you c–cum inside— ah!— j’us like before."
his thrusts became more urgent— plap plap plap— his body on the brink of release. your cunt clenched around him, milking his cock as you neared your climax. your moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure.
"shit— ‘m gonna fill you up, yeah?" nanami panted out, his body tensing as he emptied himself deep within you.
“ahh— you so so s’gooddd, kento!” you cried out, her nails scratching his back as you rode the waves of pleasure, your cunt pulsating around his pulsing thick cock.
as your hearts slowed and your breathing returned to normal, you two remained entangled on the couch, your bodies glistening with sweat. nanami kissed your forehead, his hand stroking your hair.
"that was..." you began, searching for words. "just like i remembered…”
“oh, darling, we’re just getting started.” he chuckled, his voice soft, picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom.
album bonus tracks: — that was my first time writing smut, I AM SO SORRY IF IT WAS ASS — i love kento nanami — next chapter out next week, i won't be updating during the weekdays for a bit ⋮ MASTERLIST ֹ⋮ PREVIOUS ⋮ ֹNEXT ⋮
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Pretty Kitty
Billy sometimes transforms into a tiger. There’s are a multitude of reasons for this like how Billy likes to hang out with Tawny, but sometimes that isn’t possible so he’ll transform.
Zookeeper: “Sorry, kiddo. I can’t let you into Mr. Tawny’s enclosure even if he is a gentleman.”
Billy: “But-”
Zookeeper: “No buts! It’s protocol and I really don’t want to lose my job.”
Billy: *frowns before running away to an alley*
Zookeeper: “Wait! You can still see him! You just won’t be in the enclosure-” *is cut off by the sound of lightning* “Shoot, is it gonna storm?”
Marvel: *comes out of the alley as a tiger* (his stripes are shaped like lightning bolts)
Zookeeper: “Holy shoot!” *backs up away from the tiger*
Marvel: *makes a running jump into the enclosure, landing on top of Tawny*
Zookeeper: “Tawny! No!” *thinks they’re going to fight*
Tawny: “Ah. Billy? What are you doing as a tiger?” *pats his head before standing up to brush his suit off*
They had tea together with Billy struggling a bit because he’s a tiger, not an anthropomorphic tiger like Tawny. Tawny resolved to just let him lick it out of the cup but promised Billy he’d teach the boy how to do it properly later. Billy also just takes this form whenever he wants to feel closer to Tawny because he can’t exactly carry a stuffed animal around while looking like a grown man.
Don’t worry though, he also takes this form to be annoying.
Junior and Mary: *struggling and flailing* “GET OFF?!”
Marvel: *sleeping in tiger form on them*
Dudley: *nearby laughing at them*
Marvel: *moves his tail to trip Dudley, floats up and drags the old man under him with the other two before letting himself plop back down on the three*
That’s just his family though. He sometimes just likes being in the form because lounging around in it is better than lounging around as a human. This has lead to the tiger version of him developing an interesting relationship with Robin #5.
Marvel: *in tiger form, lounging on one of the couches in a rec room*
Robin!Damian: *appears out of nowhere, standing next to the couch and holds out a plate of meat* “I have brought you the finest venison I could procure. I shall give it to you if let me… rub your stomach.”
Marvel: *has no qualms eating raw meat so he eats it*
Robin!Damian: *puts the plate down when Billy’s done before putting both hands on Marvel’s furry stomach and rubbing it*
Robin #5 continued to bring him treats and stuff in exchange for pets or rubs. It got to a point where he just let the Robin pet him because he felt he was taking advantage of him.
Robin!Damian: *zetas in with Bruce and walks away as soon as he can*
Marvel: *in tiger form, sunbathing near one of the windows that has sun shining through it*
Robin!Damian: *walks over and lets himself fall face first onto Marvel’s furry stomach*
This eventually came to a head.
Marvel: *chilling, staring at Damian*
Robin!Damian: *five inches away from his tiger face also staring*
Batman: *watching this go down*
Marvel: *shapeshifts his stripes to form a batlogo on his face like Batcow*
Robin!Damian: *gasps* “Come home with me.”
Batman: “Robin, you can’t take the tiger home.”
Robin!Damian: “Why not? Father, he is clearly well trained and educated enough. Taking care of him would hardly be difficult.”
Batman: “Still no. We don’t even know whose tiger that is. He just appeared in the Watchtower one day.”
Damian later got Jason to come to the Watchtower with him and help him steal the tiger, only the tiger was gone.
Marvel: *chilling on the couch of one of the rec rooms*
Robin!Damian: “Captain. Have you seen a tiger around here?”
Marvel: “Which tiger? The one with the lightning bolt stripes or the one with green tuxedo?”
Robin!Damian: “The lightning bolt one, but what do you mean by green tuxedo?”
Marvel: “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. He isn’t here right now. The tiger went home. Why are you asking about him?”
Red Hood: “He wants to take the tiger home to the Batcave.”
Marvel: “Oh… Cool! I’ll let him know.”
Robin!Damian: “You know the tiger?”
Marvel: “Yup!”
Red Hood: “Cap, is he your tiger?”
Marvel: “No? He’s kinda not really my friend.”
Robin!Damian: “Interesting…”
Eventually tiger Marvel did go over to the Batcave. After the general freaking out over a tiger, they realized he wasn’t some wild animal that would snap at a moments notice. They gave him lots of meat. Billy loved it.
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics#tawky tawny
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sfw or nsfw!
THE BIMBO AND ALASTOR IS ADORABLE, this leads me into my ask...
metalhead!bimbo!reader or goth!bimbo!reader with al or another hazbin boy. poor girl is literally so dumb but looks fucking cool as shit. dyed hair, tattoos, piercings, cool outfits and makeup but thats.. like.. all shes good for, is being sexy and dumb.
🙏 raaa your works are so lovely !
- 🦇
»»------► 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 - 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 (18+)
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▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 (18+) 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 ▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹 (18+)
Pairing: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Word Count: 𝟸.𝟹𝚔
Warnings: 𝙵/𝙼 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠
A/N: 𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝; 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚃.𝚃 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝!
𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!
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Ever since your deal with Alastor, you had asked him for something new everyday.
“Ya’ know, I’ve always wanted some piercings. Will you pay for it, Alastor? Pleaseeee?”
“Let’s get some food!”
“I want this.”
“I always wanted some tattoos too, ya’ know?”
Even without the deal, you knew that Alastor would probably gift you all these things anyway; he seemed to always have a soft spot for you, and after he fucked you, forced you a deal to make you unequivocally his, and quite literally told you that you were his partner from now on, you knew you could get him to do pretty much anything you wanted.
And because of the possibilities of things that you could now attain from Alastor, you had found yourself falling in love with multiple types of styles, and currently, you were quite fixated on the gothic style. Still, you kept your clothing as revealing as possible; it was just more comfortable for you to have little clothing on, and you weren’t about to change that for anyone. Even if Alastor had some comments on how little you wore sometimes.
“Darling, I don’t usually mind the things you wear, but your nipples are quite literally hanging out. So take it off.”
But, you weren’t complaining. Sure, Alastor wasn’t your usual type, and he could be bossy, telling you that some items of clothing were just too revealing, but the powerful ambience that he emitted was fucking sexy; and he had a big cock. And despite him being an old ass cunt compared to you, he treated you in ways that no man had ever treated you; it was refreshing.
Even now, he was treating you like a gentleman as he made you latch onto his arm whilst you both walked around the city of hell. You had asked him to take you shopping, again. And of course, he dropped what he was doing to escort you around. Wearing a latex skin tight black dress, you made sure to press up extra hard against your boyfriend’s arm; relishing in how hard it was for him to keep himself composed. Ever since your deal with Alastor, you always waited on him to initiate any type of touch as you were aware of his dislike for others approaching him, and you dreaded him rejecting you. So you relished in every touch you could get from him when he let you latch onto his arms whenever he escorted you anywhere.
“Ah!” You yelped as you left Alastor’s side and ran toward a shop window; pressing your whole body against it as you gazed starstruck at a cute, black leathered chained choker. “Al!” You whined his name as he stood behind you. “I want this, get it me? Pretty please?” You sang as you clamped your hands together.
“Go fit it on then, darling.” You could only sing in delight as you jumped into the store, grabbing the object of your desires with Alastor following closely behind you.
“Al, can you help me?” You asked with a pout as you couldn’t quite get the latch to close around the choker. Alastor only walked up behind you before he softly held the accessory for you, finally latching it on tight around the circumference of your neck.
As you looked in the mirror to see how you looked with it on, you were distracted as Alastor breathed down your neck. Looking up, you flinched when you felt his drool land on your shoulder. “You know darling.” He whispered into your ear as he gripped his claws against the skin of your shoulder. “You’ve been asking for so much recently, and you’ve barely given me a kiss.”
You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to contemplate what on earth he was getting at. Sure, ever since Alastor and you had sex, you hadn’t really done anything like that since. But it was mainly because you knew he recoiled away from anyone else initiating any type of touch with him; you had been surprised when he had allowed you to drag him into that seat and sit on his lap. All in all, you were waiting on him to initiate. “I didn’t think you would appreciate me just kissing you whenever I wanted… I’ve been waiting on you to make a move.” You whispered, guilt consuming your system. “Sorry.”
He only let his tongue leave the contents of his mouth, pressing it against your choker attired neck before he responded to you. “Darling, you have my permission to touch me whenever you please unless I say so, do you understand?” You could only shiver with a nod as he growled his sentence into your neck. “Still, you’ve been quite a greedy little darling recently, it’s only fair you give me something in return, correct?” He nipped into your shoulder as you rubbed your thighs together.
Oh god, how was this man so hot?
Suddenly, you felt Alastor push you forward with a force you weren’t expecting from him. You stretched your hands out as you braced for impact against a rack of clothes until you fell face first into red silk sheets that were all too familiar to you. Picking your head up, you turned around as you took in the contents of the room.
It was the same room Alastor had fucked you in.
Wait.
That fucker pushed you.
Sitting up, you made your way to the edge of the bed, standing up as Alastor had yet to appear in the room, and you were ready to shout at him for pushing you like that. But as soon as you stood, you felt familiar clawed hands grip into your hips as they dragged you into their owner's lap, your back flushed against their chest.
Looking back to see your boyfriend’s widened grin, all thoughts of ripping him a new one vanished as he grabbed the back of your choker, causing you to wince in pleasure. His other hand flicked to caress the thick of your thigh as he teased the outline of your lingerie. Your body became hot and flustered instantly. You couldn’t help but hum as you instinctively began to grind yourself into his lap.
“I really do like this dress on you, darling. But I’m not below ripping it into shreds; so take it off. Now.” He groaned into your ear as you kept moving against him. Despite how hot the prospect was of Alastor tearing your clothes off, this dress was limited edition and designer. There was no chance in hell you’d let him rip this one.
Maybe you could wear something more replaceable tomorrow and see if he’ll rip that off you instead.
“There’s a zip at the back…” You moaned out softly before you felt his hand leave the hold he had on your choker as he was eager to undress you. Leaving you feeling somewhat frustrated as his other hand left your thigh, his fingers slipped the zip downwards, allowing it to naturally fall down to your hips, revealing your bare chest to him before he forced the piece of clothing completely off your body.
His hand returned to your thigh before you felt his thick and heavy cock smack against the inner of your thighs. Looking down, you groaned as his tip was big and so fucking red. You could swear it was pulsing. Clamping your femurs together, you held his phallic organ between your thighs, forcing the Radio Demon behind you to groan.
You leaned your head back onto Alastor’s shoulder before you began thrusting your hips up and down, rubbing your boyfriend’s cock between the plush of your thighs in the process. You could feel the top of his cock slide against the wetness of your clothed cunt as you continued your ministrations.
“Fuck.” You heard Alastor groan as he lifted his own hips up to fuck his cock within the confines of your plush and soft legs, covering his sex in your natural lubricate; making everything feel even more intense. You never thought a thigh fuck could feel so good for you, but the way his sex slid against your folds, hitting your clit everytime he thrusted forward, it made you tremble. But as the pleasure began to build, Alastor spoke, barely whispering against your ear.
“Be a good girl and stand up.”
Despite wanting to continue, you obeyed him. Giving him a few more thrusts before you released his sex, you stood up, and it was then you realised you were still wearing your heeled combat boots. Alastor’s hands removed the lingerie that covered your core, only to grip your hips still; forcing you to stay facing away from him. You couldn’t even ask him what he was doing before he forced you back down, ultimately pushing his cock into you. Letting out a loud cried moan, you couldn’t believe he had just stuffed himself into you like that; forcing you to take his fat cock, filling you to the brim and more.
“Bounce, darling.”
You couldn’t help but pant as his cock intruded your walls; he had hardly even prepped you, yet his cock slid in as if it was attuned to your cunt and yours alone. Moaning, you began to repeatedly lift yourself off his lap, only to harshly bounce back into it. The sound of your skin slapping against his clothed lap along with your whimpered cries of his name surrounded the room. Your whimpers choked back as Alastor gripped the back of your choker, pulling your back to flush against his clothed chest again.
Was he really fucking you in his suit?
Your thoughts were quick to leave your mind as he continued to help you bounce onto his lap. Although with the new position he had put you in, the bounces weren’t as high, but his cock went so much deeper. It was immense; how he filled you up perfectly, hitting every crevice that needed to be hit to make you go even more dumb than you already were.
“You were just made for me, weren’t you, darling?”
Why the fuck did he have to be so sexy? It was driving you mad. You could only mumble incoherently as you tried to agree with his statement, but his cock only left you in a babbling mess. His smile only tightened as he chuckled at you almost condescendingly as you failed to formulate a single word.
Recoiling in pleasure, you gasped as something cold and slimy wrapped around your clit. Looked down, you could only cry out sensually as you watched his shadow’s mouth sucking your pulsing clitoris. Fuck. Was this technically a threeway now? You didn’t know, but it made you want to cum instantly. You could only thrust your core into his shadows face as Alastor himself fucked your cunt, chasing your own high as one of your hands gripped the head of his shadow, whilst your other one flung itself upwards to grab onto one of Alastors antlers.
Moan after moan, you couldn’t stop crying out in pleasure as Alastor stimulated you in multiple ways. You could feel yourself reaching your high as you squished his shadow’s head between your thighs, thrusting harder and harder against the greedy ministrations he gave your clit. As you felt your orgasm approaching, Alastor pushed you again. Only this time, you were pushed on top of his shadow, forcing his cock to leave you and you inevitably sitting on his shadow's face.
You sobbed as the shadow continued to lick you, but you felt so fucking empty. To make up for the loss of contact, you began grinding against his shadow before you felt Alastor’s palms rest against your shoulders. Looking up, you could see his eyes blown wide, drool cascading down his lips, and his skin flushed red. He gave you a sinister grin before he forced your entire weight and his to press down against his shadow’s face.
Crying out, you could feel your tongue pant out of your mouth as the entire situation was too fucking hot. And when Alastor let go of you, his shadow’s hands gripped your thighs still, forcing you to keep your weight against its face. You could only groan as Alastor forced you to lean forward before he slid his heavy sex back into your cunt.
It was too much; too much and too fucking hot. Alastor bending you over his shadow that was sucking the life out of your clit as he fucked into you hard like a rabid man. You swear you were seeing stars, and you could only scream as your thighs shook before your core suddenly came all over his shadow. Hard. Riding through your orgasm with Alastor’s name screaming from your tongue, he only fucked you harder; as if your orgasm had began the starting of his own.
Suddenly, his shadow disappeared, and Alastor gripped your choker again before slamming your face into the floor and forcing your ass in the air as he fucked you at a pace you didn’t think was possible before he stilled into you one last time. You could feel his cock throbbing as his cum squirted into your cunt, causing you to moan along with Alastor’s grunts. After his orgasm ceased, Alastor pulled away from you as he watched his cum slowly leak from your core.
“Next time you want something from me, you’ll have to give me something in return.” He tightened the grip your choker had around your neck. You let out a choked gasp as his other hand began to knead your overstimulated clit again and his fingers pushed his cum back into you. “It can be a kiss, or you can let me cum in this perfect cunt of yours again. Either way, you’re not going to be getting anything for nothing anymore.”
If he was going to fuck you like this every time you wanted something, then you were only going to start asking him for more stuff.
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»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#reader insert#x reader#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel
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── ꒰੭ PASSENGER PRINCESS。。。 𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗒, 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒.
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엔하이픈 제이크 ᆼᆽᆼ fluff established relationship ୨୧ female reader kissing skinship 18OO ( ℰ )
OO1. PICKING HER WITH A CAR, FLOWERS AND A NEW HAIRCUT.
you are going to kill jake.
no, seriously. after not seeing him for a whole month, he doesn’t take the time to walk to your apartment’s building, take the elevator and knock at your door like a true gentleman. instead, has the audacity to ask you to come down to the parkinglot. which is ridiculous, given the fact that he doesn’t even own a car or a driver’s licence to begin with.
it is your eleventh date with him, the fact that you always had to walk or take a cab to attain the wanted location was already a major turn off. but how he always asked you if you wanted him to give piggyback you ride and his beautiful smile made you forget about it pretty quickly. he always walked by side of of the road, held your chair for you, draped his jacket on your shoulders on the way back home and whispered a ‘goodnight’ before leaving. the last time you saw him, he kissed you on the mouth for the first time and you wonder if it was enough to not make any efforts anymore.
alas, the sight of him killed you instead. his posture, his brand new long hair falling on his left eye, the car you didn’t care enough to know the brand of next to him, your favorite flowers in his hands, the gentle smile he was wearing, they all took your breath away.
still, you walked towards him with an annoyed look and arms crossed. you spoke before he could give you a kiss, his cologne feeling your sense as leaned he in, “did you make me walk all the way here just to show off your new cab?”
he only giggled gently, “this is a cab, pretty girl,” his breath brushes against your lips, his eyes lingers on them.
your eyes widen, accepting the flowers he gives to you with your mouth agape, “i-is this your car?”
his soft lips presses against yours before he says anything. humming against your lips as an answer, he gently holds the back of your head during the kiss. the butterflies in your stomach makes you forget to ask him what really matters, does he even have a driver liscense?
OO2. HOLD THE DOOR FOR HER.
after giving you a few more pecks, because he always pains to pull away from your taste, you realize you shouldn’t have suspected his gentleman tendencies.
“so,” he starts, his soft voice echoing in your ears, your heart, your soul. he puts his palm on the top of his car, “d’ya like it?”
your eyes are too focused staring at his face to even acknowledge what he is taking about. whether he is talking about his long hair or new hoodie is behind you. like a piece of art, you contemplate the man before you for what feels like an hour but it is not enough. god, you want to stare at him until you can recreate every single part of him with your eyes closed. he seems to want that too. jake stares right back at you, from up to down, biting his lips as he usually does.
“hm?” he shifts his position, snapping you back to reality.
you look between the car and him a few times, panicked by the sudden reality whiplash, “u-uh, yeah,” you nod frenetically, though, you don’t know if you are talking about his brand new car or him.
the latter chuckles softly, it makes you blush. his fingers slide from from the top of the vehicle to the car’s wrist. he made sure to stand right next to the passenger’s side, just so he could open the door for you. he presents you the sit with his free hand while he opens the door.
“then get in, princess,” that’s a new one. you snort, trying to hide your fluster.
OO3. PUTTING ON HER BELT FOR HER (AND GIVE HER A KISS).
the cool car’s air embraces your skin perfectly, you get in without much difficulty, although the huge flower bouquet is a bit of a bother.
your body soothes into the comfortable seats. it’s comfy, you feel like falling asleep right then and there. alas, the loud sound the car’s door makes prevents you from doing so.
jake runs to the other side of the car, accompanied by your laughter as you watch him doing so. he sits on the driver’s sit and give you a cute smile before putting on his belt, which reminds you of doing the same.
you fidget on your seat, trying to find a way to do it with the bouquet in your hands. it’s no easy, you don’t want to put it on the floor and is too scared to just hold it in between your thighs.
thankfully, jake notices your struggle, offering you his hand, “give me that,” he tells you.
delicately, he takes off his belt, then the flowers in his hands and put them on the back seats. after making sure the flowers won’t fall on the floor, he leans towards you, reaching for the belt next to you. he clips it without much efforts and you watch him with a soft smile growing on your face.
he kisses you again, against his lips you whisper, “thank you,” he mutters something about how there is nothing to thank him for.
OO4. PROTECT HER WHEN THERE IS A SPEED DUMP
if you concentrate on the road hard enough, your mind can erase the thought of jake’s veins bulging as he holds the cartwheel tightly, his rolled up sleeves showing off his arms perfectly.
you decide to focus on the cars driving next to you, they go fast and almost make you nauseous, but it’s a price to pay for not losing your sanity over your boyfriend’s arms. unfortunately for you, spending most of your time together staring at his hands makes it easy for your brain to recreate them behind your closed eyes. his fingers brushing over the fabric, his hands gripping on the cartwheel for dear life, his veins popping out everytime he holds too tight, it’s all so clear in your mind.
whoever is ruling the universe doesn’t want you to forget about it either, there would be no reason for one of his arms to appear in front you the moment you look away from your dear window either way. your gaze walks on his skin, from his nails to his shoulder, studying every inches meticulously before finally stopping at his face.
the car bumps underneath the both of you. jake’s face has a serious expression on his face and endearment fills your heart when you realize that he is trying to protect you from the speed bump. he’s such a dork.
OO5. PUT YOUR HAND ON HER THIGH.
the sight of his hands is nothing compared to the feeling of his hand on you. you can feel heat running through your whole body when he lets his hand fall on your thigh, so naturally, so gracefully, as if it was just meant to be here.
“you okay?” he questions you, voice soft, his head snaps to yours quickly before going back to the facing the road.
his hands moves to your right thigh to the left one, delicately. it stays there, burning through your skin, sinking into your flesh, melting in your bones and flooding in your blood. his hand flexes as he gives you a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubs again your muscle and you are so close from screaming.
he continues to do the same with his thumb until you answer to his question, “y-yeah,” is all you can manage to say back, going back to admiring the car’s trajectory next to you as if jake didn’t change your life’s one.
OO6. KISS HER DURING A RED LIGHT (COMPLIMENT HER TOO).
pressing your lips together, you look up, silently praying for your blushing to not be too obvious.
you don’t understand how jake went from holding the cartwheel as if his life depended on it to holding it with one hand nonchalantly just for the sake of having you beneath at least on of his hand.
his warmth melts into yours, you can feel his palm getting sweaty as the time goes back, two songs play from the beginning to the end and one more gets to start before moves. his touch is missed by your whole being immediately. the ghost of his skin put on yours still remains as well as the pink shade on your cheeks does.
the car stops and jake’s fingers are back on you. this time, it’s on your chin to turn your face to his. the sensation of his mouth on yours is enough to make fireworks explode in the very pit of your stomach. flustering your eyes close, you fall into him like you always do.
he smiles against your mouth, your teeth collide, “you are beautiful,” he affirms before pulling away.
OO7. OPEN THE DOOR FOR HER (AGAIN).
after he goes back to driving again, you take a deep breath and the car ride goes by. you talk about the few weeks you weren’t together for most of it.
“why didn’t you tell me that you were taking driving classes?” you ask him, with a teasing smile, “i thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
jake let out a dramatic gasp, “after that kiss?” he huffs. you remember how giggly he was after your first time kissing each other. “you’ll have to surgically remove my hips from yours,” it’s like a weight is taken off your shoulders the moment the words leave his mouth. “i wanted to surprise you.”
you coo, reaching for one of his cheeks with your index finger. he smiles when you poke it, “you are so cute.”
instead of responding he turns his head to you with a adorable grin, his arm find the back of your seat as he looks behind him. you admire his side profile with your head leaned against the cushion as if you were day dreaming. his neck seems biteable, perfect for you lips to kiss and your teeth to sink in. you could talk about his nose for hours, really, days long even.
it even brushes over yours when he finally finishes parking, going back to his normal position before undoing his belt. the man gets out of the car in a rush and you watch him run to your side like he did moments ago. you laugh when he opens the door, with no breath at all.
he offers you his hand to hold, “for you, m’lady,”
you take off your belt before holding his hand. carefully, he gets your out of the car. his eyes drags on your form when you finally stand in front of him, he makes you twirl, studying your outfit while you giggle.
jake pulls you close, gently, kissing you again. this is going to be a good night.
ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open ⎯⎯ he is so bff coded .. HaHa click
#⠀𝑓 ⟡⠀命运’𝑠 ⠀#k labels#enhypen#enha#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcanons#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha drabble#enha scenarios#enha reactions#enha headcanons#enha soft hours#enha soft thoughts#jake x reader#jake fluff#jake scenarios#jake x female reader#jake x you#jake x yn#jake enhypen#sim jaeyun
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I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3
loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖
i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.
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You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.
Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.
You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.
It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?
You’re not so sure.
"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.
Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”
You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”
You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.
“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”
He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”
No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.
“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”
He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.”
You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.
“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.
Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.
The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.
Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.
You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.
A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.
That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.
Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.
“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.
“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.
You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.
Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this.
I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..
But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist.
“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”
What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”
“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”
You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”
Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”
Oh.
You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile. “And who are you?”
“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."
His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex.
You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”
You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.
“I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.
“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”
That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.
“Dirty pogues who think—”
"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."
“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"
Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."
“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”
That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”
She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.
He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”
You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."
You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face.
He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."
You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.
Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.
Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”
Girl drama your ass.
He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.
He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”
Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.
“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”
Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”
“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”
You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”
Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”
"She’s a psycho.”
Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"
"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”
“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”
You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.
But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.
“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.
You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”
You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”
He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”
You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”
Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”
You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”
He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”
You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”
He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.
“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.
Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”
You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.
“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this.
He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”
That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore.
“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.
“I like you horny.”
You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.
You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.
“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"
You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.
But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight.
His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.
You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous.
“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”
He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”
You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.
“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.
He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”
You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.
You need him, and you need him now.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀
Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.
You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.
You feel filthy.
You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.
“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”
He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.
You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”
He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”
You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.
She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.
But you? You feel smug.
You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.
Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.
“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."
And that’s what makes it even sweeter.
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New Truck » Tyler Owens
Pairings: Husband!Tyler Owens x Wife!Reader
Summary: Tyler buys you a brand new truck after your car gets damaged in a tornado.
Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.
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“Where are we going, Ty?” You asked, turning your head towards your husband.
“I’m taking you to look for a new car.” Tyler answers.
You sighed and turned your head towards the window to look out it. Your car got damaged in a tornado a couple weeks ago and it’s not fixable. You know it’s silly to be upset over a car that’s damaged, but you really loved that car. Not more than you love Tyler. He’s the love of your life.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” He asks softly, taking a quick glance at you.
“It’s just-” You paused and sighed. “I had that car since I was 16 and I really loved it before it got damaged in the tornado.” You say.
Tyler reaches a hand over, grabbing onto yours.
“You have to remember that cars are replaceable. People aren’t.” He says, kissing the back of your hand softly.
“I know.” You muttered.
“Now, show me that smile I love.” He says.
You looked at Tyler and gave him a smile. Tyler smiles back, knowing you always smile when he says that. At a red light, he gave you a quick kiss on your lips before focusing back on the road.
“You really loved that shitty car more than me? Your husband. Do I need to be jealous of a car?” Tyler says, pretending to be jealous.
“That car was not shitty. I mean, yes, it got fixed a lot, but I love you more, cowboy.” You say with a smile.
You leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek, making him smile.
“You better love me more than a shitty junker car.” He says teasingly.
“That car wasn’t shitty and a junker!” You say with a pout.
“Sweetheart, that car broke down every three months. It’s time for you to get a new car.” He says.
You opened your mouth, but closed it, knowing that he’s right. You leaned back in the seat with a pout on your face. Tyler chuckled lightly and patted your thigh.
When you guys pulled into the car lot, you sighed to yourself before getting out of the truck. You met Tyler at the front of his truck and walked around the car lot hand in hand, looking at cars.
“Can I help y’all with anything?” A car salesman asks, approaching you and Tyler.
You have the salesman a smile, but didn’t say anything. Tyler wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“My wife’s car got destroyed in a tornado a couple weeks ago and I bought her here to look for something new.” Tyler tells the salesman.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The salesman said. “Is there anything particular you’re looking for, ma’am?” He asks you.
You looked around the lot before answering him. Your eyes quickly found the pickup trucks, specifically the Rams.
“The trucks look pretty cool.” You finally answered.
“What kind of truck are you looking for?” He asks. “We have Chevys, Dodges, Rams, Fords.” He lists off.
“Rams.” You answered. “That’s what my husband has.” You say, looking up at Tyler with love in your eyes.
Tyler smiles down at you. He also knew you would finally give in and get a Ram pickup truck like him. The salesman took you and Tyler to the area where the Ram pick up trucks are.
“Here’s the Ram trucks we have.” The salesman says. “Is there a color you have in mind?” He asks.
Your eyes scanned the trucks. All of them are cool, but the red ones and blue ones caught your eye the most.
“I can’t decide between the red and blue ones.” You say.
“That’s ok, sweetheart. You don’t have to decide right now.” Tyler says.
“I think we’ll come back another time and check them out.” You tell the salesman.
“Sounds good. Have a nice day.” The salesman says before walking away.
You and Tyler walked back to his truck. Tyler being the gentleman he is, opened the passenger’s door for you. You got in the truck and he shut the door. Tyler walked around to the driver’s side of the truck and got in.
“The red and blue trucks caught your eye, darlin’?” Tyler asks, putting his seatbelt on.
“Yes.” You answered, putting your seatbelt on.
“Hmm.” He hums to himself, starting the truck.
Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve been driving Tyler’s truck when you had errands to run. He didn’t go with you, which you find weird. Tyler loves running errands with you. You assumed that he had tornado wrangler stuff to do so you didn’t think much of it.
“Sweetheart, you home?” Tyler asks, walking in the house.
“In the kitchen!” You say.
You were putting the last of the groceries away when Tyler walked in the kitchen.
“I have a surprise for you, honey.” He says, grinning happily.
“What is it?” You asked curiously.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” He said.
Tyler covered your eyes with a bandanna so you couldn’t see anything.
“What’re you up to, cowboy?” You asked with a giggle.
“You’ll see in a moment.” He says.
Tyler walked you to the front door of the house. He carefully helped you walked down the porch steps to the driveway.
“Take the blindfold off.” Tyler says.
You took the blindfold off to see a brand new Ram pickup truck parked next to Tyler’s truck in the driveway. It was customized in the colors red and blue. A surprised gasp left your lips.
“Tyler, what- how-” You turned to face your husband to see him holding the car keys to the truck.
“Surprise!” He says with a smile.
You squealed excitedly and happily, grabbing the keys from his hand and ran over the truck. You got in the driver’s seat while Tyler got in the passenger’s seat.
“You like it?” Tyler asks.
“I love it!” You said with excitement in your voice.
“Let’s take it for a spin, cowgirl.” He says, putting his seatbelt on.
You smiled widely and put your seatbelt on and started the truck. It started right up with no trouble at all. It took at least three tries to start your old car. It drove smoothly compared to your old car. You were so speechless that you didn’t know what to say. After a few minutes of driving, you pulled over into a random parking, putting your truck in park and shutting it off. You turned to face your husband and gave him a kiss with so much passion that it took yours and his breath away.
“I have the world’s best husband.” You say, leaning your forehead against his and looking in his eyes.
“I better be the world’s best husband for this.” Tyler says, making you giggle.
You kissed him again.
“I got it painted in red and blue for you, because you said you couldn’t decide between the two colors so I got both colors on it for you.” He tells you.
“Does it have those cool things your truck has?” You asked curiously.
“If you’re talking about the spike that goes into the ground during tornados and the metal bars around it, then yes.” He answers.
“Good.” You pecked his lips softly. “My truck is ready to take on tornados with yours.” You say with a smile.
Tyler chuckles and kissed you once more before you two headed home.
“Oh! I have to call Kate and tell her that you bought me a brand new truck!” You said excitedly, getting out of your truck. “I love you so much, Ty. I don’t know how to thank you.” You say, hugging him and kissing him.
“I love you too, darlin’. Your love is more than enough to thank me.” Tyler says softly.
🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️
Glen Powell characters tags: @cevansbaby-dove
#tyler owens#husband!tyler owens#twisters#twisters 2024#glen powell#glen powell characters#tyler owens x female reader#tyler owens x wife!reader#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens x you#tyler owens fluff#tyler owens one shot#tyler owens imagine#wife!reader
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chris x single!older! mom?
(chris would be 21 and reader would be 30)
SOMEONE OLDER.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d30952560bff57aaead4db68882db277/d53570a8faf531fe-b4/s540x810/5e29c8b9b01c4bfb30cb3821e987863430f5f6ee.jpg)
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀chris sturniolo × fem!reader.
warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, cursing.
synopsis: Y/N is a divorced mom who met Chris at a beach and ended up in a date with him. But he's nine years younger than she.
Y/N, a woman in her thirty's, divorced and with a kid.
After a couple years in a failed marriage, Y/N decided she wasn't looking for any relationship for a while. She lived too many years locked in a relationship who she holds alone, her husband was an idiot and left her with Miles after the divorce. Miles is her 4 year old son, the best company she could have.
Well, Y/N wasn't looking for a relationship until she met a guy at the beach in summer. He was pretty and very gentle, he accidentally stepped on Miles' sand castle and offered his help to build it again. He flirted with Y/N a couple times and she noticed how he looked at her boobs in her bikini.
But there's a problem, well, it's not a deep problem, but Chris is only twenty-one. He's just a boy for Y/N, but he didn't seem to care.
"Honey, stay in the shallow, please." Y/N said to Miles before he could run to the water, she smiled and kept the sunscreen on her bag.
"So, you're not gonna give me a chance?" Chris asked, he glanced at her with his blue eyes and a smirk on his lips. Y/N shook her head smiling, she looked at Chris.
"You should look for girls with the same age as you." Y/N rested her elbows on the towel, puffing out her chest. Chris couldn't help it, his eyes fell on her boobs, they were big and looked so good in a red bikini. "Did you lose something in the middle of my boobs?"
"I would love to lose myself on them." Chris said hypnotized, Y/N laughed and shook her head. Chris sat by the girl side, supporting his body on his elbows. "Girls the same age as mine are not interesting like you."
"You're the kind of guy who likes women double your age?" She asked, Chris bit his under lip and nodded his head, smiling a bit. Y/N giggled, keeping her eye on her kid playing in the water. "You want what? Sex?"
"A date." He quickly reply.
"You want to go on a date with me?" She asked discredited.
"Yeah. You're cool and pretty, I want to know you better." Chris said, Y/N smirked and nods. It's okay for her to go on a date with Chris, even though he was 9 years younger than she. "And you're pretty sexy." He whispered in her ear.
Y/N bit her lip and nodded, she was disbelief with this kid. He was confident enough to come to a woman older than him and flirt like a teenager, but worked. Y/N accepted go on a date with him.
"Uh, don't even think about it, Chris." Y/N said when Chris tried to kiss her. He laughed and nodded.
They went out on Saturday, Y/N let Miles with her sister, so she could have a peaceful night with Chris. The boy reserved a table in a fancy restaurant, Y/N until there and met Chris on the front of the restaurant. He was a really gentleman, Y/N was impressed. They ordered, Y/N asked if Chris drinks wine and he said yes, so she ordered her favorite.
"Tell me more about you, Chris." Y/N asked taking a sip of her wine, Chris takes a sip too, but he masked a grimace. The woman bit her lip keeping her laugh.
"Well, I don't think I told you, but I'm a triplet." Chris said.
They chat until the food arrives, Chris talks about his life with his brothers in Boston, his hometown, and his job on the internet being a youtuber. He asked about Y/N life too, she talked about things that Chris never imagined before, but he finds interesting. Y/N underestimated Chris, he was a good guy and mature for his age. Most of the guys don't like to go out with women with kids, but Chris doesn't care, he likes Miles. He built a castle with him.
"I think it's enough for you." Y/N giggled and lowered Chris' wine glass, his cheeks and lips were getting red by the drink. "This is your first time drinking, am I right? You don't have to lie to me, Chris."
"I didn't want you to think that I'm a kid." Chris said, Y/N shook her head lowering her wine glass.
"Drink is not a sign of maturity, Chris." Y/N blink to him, he smiled. Chris insisted on paying, even Y/N saying they could share. They went out, Chris was trying to think what to say, because he had never been on a date before. He already hung out with girls, but never on a date in a fancy restaurant with a woman. It is very different.
"You're good to drive?" Y/N asked, Chris feel his cheeks burn by the embarrassment. He doesn't know how to drive, but he didn't tell this to Y/N, because was embarrassing say his brother has to drive him around.
"I'm gonna get an Uber." He said simple.
"Okay, I'll drive you home." Y/N embrace Chris shoulders, he smiled and nodded. They walked to her car, when they settled in the car, Chris took a deep breath and looked at Y/N.
"I don't know how to drive." He admitted.
"Okay, I don't care if you don't know how to drive." Y/N started to drive, she handled her phone to Chris put his address on the GPS. She drives on silent, Chris was impatient on the passenger seat. Soon they arrived at Chris' house. "So. . ."
"I'm feeling like I'm a friend of your kid, not a guy you just go on a date with."
Y/N nodded and unbuckle her belt, Chris did the same and quickly attacked her lips. She held the back of his neck, pulling him back to his seat, he desperately cupped her boobs with his hands and squeezed, making Y/N sights against his mouth. Chris pressed his forehead against her, breathing hard.
"May I...?" He asked shy, referring to your boobs, Y/N notice that he was staring them the whole night. They look perfect in that black dress, pressing them together, so tight.
Y/N smirked, she slowly tuggled down the dress strap, reveling her big and fat tits. Chris' mouth salivated, craving to put his mouth on her pretty tit. He kissed the middle of her boobs, stimulating her left nipple with his finger. Y/N knows they could get caught at the car, but didn't stop her from show her tits to Chris.
He sucked her tit, holding her waist hard while he used his tongue to stimulate the nipple. Y/N hold Chris' shoulders, biting her lips to hold her moans, Chris was doing so good. Chris looked at Y/N, she smiled to him as he let go her tit.
"Please, come in." He mumbled.
"I can't believe I'm acting like a fucking teenage with a boy who's nine years younger than me." She shook her head smirking, but she nodded. Y/N removed Chris' hair from his forehead, wet from the sweat. "Are you gonna be a good boy for me? Are you gonna behave for mommy?"
"Yes, yes! I will, I will be a good boy." Chris almost cried out, he was needy for her touch, praising to get pleasure from Y/N.
"Let's get in and I will take care of you." She whispered opening the door and Chris quickly followed her.
So, Y/N ended up dating Chris. She wasn't expecting, but after some dates and knowing each other well, she ended up in love with him. Miles likes Chris too, they became best friends and he felt really happy knowing his friend Chris was dating his mother.
Chris is very good for Miles, he takes care of him better than his biological father ever takes. He plays cars with him, gives him piggybacks, put in the bed for sleep and held him on his lap for hours when he got sick. Y/N feel filled with love, not only by her boyfriend, but by the way he treat her son.
Y/N never expect that a guy 9 years younger than she would make her feel happy and loved, but it happens sometimes and she's grateful for that.
i love this trope and now i want to write moOooOoOre ! hope you like it <3
Tags: @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy
join my taglist!
#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ#chris sturniolo#madison beer#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#madison elle beer#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets fanfic#mom reader#꒰ milf.ᐟreader ꒱
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Shoutout to tomboys, you’re great and valid. Someone asked me for this in a comment section but I can't @ them but here you go!
One piece men x tomboy reader. Shanks, Sanji, Zoro.
Shanks
Shanks first met you at a bar.
It might be cliche but he gets fawned over by women (and men) often, you were different.
When you came up to him he already noticed you weren’t the most feminine, but you seemed cool so he didn’t mind.
Before he could lay on some charm, though, you had challenged him to a drinking contest with ridiculous rules.
If you won, you got to join his crew.
Immediately it was like the alcohol in his hand didn’t matter, your boldness was too amusing.
“What’s in it for me? Surely a pretty woman like you has something to offer?”
He didn’t mean what he alluded to, just a test to see what you were like.
When you said you had information on something he would definitely like, well, what kind of a pirate wouldn’t be tempted?
What he didn’t expect is how good of a drinker you were.
Shanks gets drunk, but his mind will stay sober, but you were drinking more than he could handle.
It was a tie, the bar ran out of alcohol.
The both of you were on the verge of passing out when he gave you a thumbs up and said you were in, you gave one back and said you’d give him the info too.
It was the worst hangover since the first time he got blackout drunk when young but man was it an amazing investment.
Turned out you knew info on a rival of his causing trouble around his territories, and you were an amazing fighter.
Shanks couldn’t help himself, he might’ve exploded if he tried not to flirt with you.
Flirts turn to touching and touching leads to the bed, you’re good.
Perfect, really, he fell hard for you.
A capable woman who’s fun to be around, gets along with his crewmates, and is great in bed?
He doesn’t care that you aren't feminine, you’re the most attractive woman he could ask for.
Shanks asked you out and you accepted, now he’s your #1 supporter.
Playing a drinking game? His bets are on you.
Threw a guy who touched you across the bar? Way to go!
You think you can beat him in a fight? Sure, just don’t mind if he gets a little handsy during it~
Overall there is no clear calm and smart one in the relationship, both of you are dumb and Beckman couldn’t be any more unhappy.
Sanji
Sanji is completely put off.
When you first met he was absolutely ready to fawn over you but the moment you, instead of getting mad or flirting back, patted him on the shoulder with a “Thanks, man!” he just stood there.
He almost looked around as if someone else said it.
The way you speak, act, the way you are, it’s like everything in him is rejecting it.
Women are supposed to be sacred, beautiful creatures to be worshiped, yet why are you working out with the mosshead and yelling as loud as Franky?
He still treats you kindly, of course, but there is a bit of a gap between what he’s known all his life and what’s being taught to him.
It changed one day though, you two were running from marines and he tripped.
Embarrassment had flooded through him at tripping in front of a lady(?), but when you had picked him up and kept running his heart started racing.
Here he was, the gentleman, being carried like a princess by a woman.
He couldn’t even protest, it wasn’t long after that that he caught feelings and you two started dating.
Now he worships you in other ways. Always calling you strong and beautiful.
Sometimes he’s still embarrassed, but lord knows he's in way too deep now.
Please be understanding if he pretends that something is too hot for him to touch or if he acts like a damsel.
Getting taken care of by a strong girlfriend just feels way better for him than he could’ve ever imagined.
Zoro
He dislikes you at first, not because you’re a woman that’s masculine, but because he sees you like a challenger.
You drink like him, work out with him, even sleep in random places sometimes. He’s supposed to do that!
You even took the spot he likes to nap in!
Not to mention he can’t even pick a fight with you without the cook immediately butting in because you’re a “lady”.
Lady his ass! You’re hardly a woman!
This sort of thing stopped one day when you two were bickering a bit, and once again Sanji stepped in.
Usually the argument switches over to him and Sanji but this time you weren’t having it and grabbed Sanji by the leg, flinging him away like a ball before looking back at Zoro.
He couldn’t help it, seeing the curly brow about to defend you like a knight only to be flung away was too funny and he ended up cracking a smile.
Like that, he stopped seeing you less as competition and more as someone to do things with.
One day Nami made a joke while dragging you two back to the ship “Ugh you two are always together, are you dating or something?”
That seemed to open something up.
Zoro didn’t really think of you as a woman, not that that was much different than other women, but if he were ever to have a lover in his life he would like someone to do the things he loves with.
He asked you out and you said yes, then you two started dating.
Seems loveless at first, but he ends up using the time to get to know you, and really appreciates you.
He treats you like a person, not like some unruly woman (even if he says that sometimes to mess with you).
You’re the type of couple where people can’t tell if you’re dating or not, but behind closed doors he’ll rest his head on your lap and let you play with his hair.
You’re the only one he’ll tolerate making any sort of grass jokes about his hair, girlfriend privilege.
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A summer with the Millers
4k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller | ao3 | Masterlist | series masterlist Summary: you come back to your father's house for summer vacation and want to get closer to your crush (your dad's best friend) and his brother Warnings: 18+ mdni. dubcon (alcohol), mfm, age gap (reader is 21, Tommy and Joel are in their late 30s, early 40s), virgin reader, eager reader, dirty talk, degradation, masturbation, oral (m/f), ball sucking
a/n: dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏❤️ @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing, love you 💕🫶
It was the beginning of summer, and you were coming back to Austin for vacation. Now you lived in the north of the country for your studies, not too far from your mother, since your parents had divorced several years ago. You hadn't been back in Texas since last summer, and you were delighted to see your father. You couldn't wait to enjoy the heat and the pool. You were about to spend several weeks here, and you had been looking forward to the holidays so much that you almost twirled around as you headed towards the airport parking lot to meet your father.
Your phone buzzed, and you saw the text message.
“Sorry, sweetie, I had a setback at work, I'm really sorry. Tommy is coming to pick you up from the airport. I'll see you home very soon. See you tonight, I can’t wait!"
You were a little disappointed not to see your father right away, but Tommy? He was your dad’s best friend, and you had known him for a long time. You’d had a big crush on him for a couple years, and your disappointment quickly gave way to a slight tightening in your heart.
You reached the parking lot where Tommy was already waiting for you, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette. He threw it away as soon as he saw you and gave you a big smile before taking you in his arms.
“Hey, darlin’! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”
You pulled away from each other, and you weren't sure if your brain was playing tricks, but you felt like you caught his gaze quickly checking out your body.
“Damn, look at you all grown up!”
You smiled at his warm welcome, and your grin reached your ears when he opened the passenger door as a perfect gentleman to let you settle in. When he got behind the wheel and started off, that time you were sure, his eyes lingered for a second or two on your bare legs, which your short skirt barely covered. You smiled. It was going to be a good summer, you were sure of it.
The radio was playing a cool 70s rock song, and you leaned your head against the headrest.
“How old are you now, darlin’? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
"I'm 21. And it hasn’t been that long, I was here last summer,” you replied, laughing.
“Wow, really? Well… you seem like a whole different person now. How are your studies going?”
"Alright! I love studying classic literature. I feel good at my uni but I’m happy to be back in Texas.”
“I bet you do! How’s your mother?”
“She’s fine too. She has a new boyfriend. Well, it's been almost a year now.”
“Alright. I hope he’s not a pain in the ass to ya?”
“No, he’s ok”, you replied.
The trip continued with a really smooth conversation between the two of you. A few times, your eyes dared to linger on his hands placed on the steering wheel. His veins were prominent and his forearms muscular, and you couldn't help but wonder what his hands would feel like on you. “They’d make a perfect collar around my neck…” you giggled softly at the thought. Apparently your crush was stronger than ever. And you were hornier than ever.
You realized Tommy was talking to you and you hadn’t paid attention.
“Mmm, excuse me?” you asked.
“What was your pretty head thinking about?” he asked, looking at you a little longer than usual.
“Oh, nothing special…I’m just glad to be back.”
“I’m glad too, darlin’.” He checked out your legs when you were looking out of the window and couldn't catch him staring, before pulling into your father's driveway and wishing you a good afternoon.
You watched his car back out of the driveway, then he parked in front of his house. The house next to your dad’s. You waved Tommy goodbye when he looked at you before entering his house. You definitely didn't regret that he came to get you instead of your father.
The sun was flooding the dining room. Photos of you and your father adorned the walls. You missed him terribly every year. You called each other often, but of course it wasn't the same as seeing him every day. Like before.
Your bedroom was as you had left it. Everything in its place, every book, every photo, every memory. You lay down on your bed and stroked the soft blanket with your fingertips. For a few moments, your childhood memories came back to you. A bittersweet melancholy of a bygone time.
Quickly you thought about Tommy, and how he had checked you out in the car. It hadn’t been that long since you’d seen each other, but he seemed to like you. Differently. At least you hoped so, and you would soon check if that was indeed the case. As usual, he would often come over to your dad’s house to watch a football game, have a beer, or enjoy the pool. On Sunday, there would be the usual early summer barbecue. You couldn't wait to go through your closet and pick a dress that would make him salivate.
But first you needed to get off. Your fingers slid down your body. Running them from your neck, where you imagined Tommy’s fingers lightly gripping your skin. The warmth of his hand on you. You went down to the hollow between your breasts, brushing them very lightly, before grabbing one of them and twitching the nipple between your fingers until you felt it harden. Your other hand traveled from your navel to your skirt. You brushed against the elastic, then the fabric, until you reached the hem. Pulling your skirt up to your waist, then brushing against your sensitive folds under your panties. For a few minutes, you played with your pleasure. Brushing against your swollen clit with feather light touches. Until impatience gripped you, and you finally slip your hand into your panties. Imagining Tommy’s feverish fingers working their way to reach your soaking pussy. You ran your digits along your soaked folds to wet them, and moved up to your twitching clit, already sensitive. You moaned, softly whispering “Tommy.” Your index finger gently swirled over your little bud of nerves, applying the perfect pressure to make your orgasm build. Your other hand squeezed your breast, and you arched your back as your gasps filled the room. But you needed more. Needed to feel something in your core. Your hand left your breast and slipped into your panties, pushing your middle finger between your folds. Just in time for your pussy to clench on it, a wave hit your trembling body. Imagining Tommy inside you, his face above yours, balls deep in your cunt. His name escaped your lips one last time, with final twitches of your walls against your finger. All you could think about was Tommy, and the sensations he would give you. Sensations you could only imagine, because you were still a virgin.
Your father came back home early in the evening, and you had dinner together, chatted and laughed. You two always had a great relationship. When your parents had divorced, you all had agreed that you would live with your mother, since your father had often been away for work. But you missed him a lot, and summers with him were definitely your favorite time of the year.
Tommy came by your house a few times in the days that followed. But not once did you see his gaze on you like it had happened in his car on the way back from the airport. You were disappointed, but since your father was home every time he visited, you figured that maybe Tommy didn't want to risk something in his presence.
The barbecue day arrived, finally. You had chosen a short summer dress with white and yellow pattern, thin straps, no bra underneath. Black lace panties completed the ensemble.
You were impatiently waiting for Tommy to arrive, and you knew he would be among the first guests. You were busy setting the table when you heard your name. Tommy was approaching you and he wasn't alone. Joel, his brother, was with him. He was slightly older than Tommy, and you hadn't seen him in several years. You didn't remember him being so hot and you lost your breath when you saw him. They hugged you, and If Tommy kept a friendly attitude, Joel looked at you from head to toe and smirked, while your dad was busy with the other guests. Arousal instantly burned you from the inside out.
So you decided to go a little further. You seeped your beer while staring and smiling at Tommy or Joel, played with a lollipop redder than your lips while looking at them, or talking to them. You saw Joel readjust himself twice, and Tommy looked away a few times. But his bulge left no doubt about the effect your little game had on him.
The last guests were leaving, and you wished everyone a good evening. Saving your warmest, playful smile for the Millers. Your father had drunk a little too much, and told you he was going to bed. You walked him to his bedroom, helped him take off his shoes, and covered him with his blanket. Then you went into the garden and sat in one of the deckchairs, a beer in hand. You had drunk more than usual but you felt good, a little dizzy but not too much, and you wanted to end the evening like that, looking at the stars.
“You haven’t gone to bed, darlin’?”, you heard from the aisle. Tommy and Joel were heading back towards you.
“No, not yet, I’m still enjoying the evening,” you added, raising your beer bottle at them. “Did you forget something?”
“Yeah, my phone. There it is,” Tommy added.
“Wanna join me for another beer?”
“Yeah, sure”, said Joel. They took beers from the cooler, then brought two deck chairs closer to yours. Conversation was easy with them. Both were quite talkative.
As for you, you laughed even more than usual, thanks to the beers you had drunk. The effect of the alcohol seemed much less stronger on Tommy and Joel.
“It’s getting late, I'm gonna put away the leftovers”, you said, getting up.
“Let us help you, sweetheart,” offered Joel.
You took the salad bowls and went down to the basement to put them in the fridge. You found yourself really close to Joel as you walked through the door, and he clung to you wholeheartedly.
“So, baby... what was that little game all evening?”
“You liked it?” you asked, shamelessly.
“Oh, sweetheart, are you sure you know what you’re gettin’ into?”
“What are you doin’, Joel?” asked Tommy.
“Just what she wants. Come on, she’s been hitting on us all day.”
“Her father’s here, Joel. He’s… He’s my best friend.”
“Drank way too much. We heard him snoring from the dining room. And she can fuck whoever she wants, it’s not her father’s problem. She’s 21.”
“I… I don’t know man.. I’ve known her since… forever.”
"Jesus. She's an adult. You wanna have fun, baby?”
“Yes! Yes, please. Come on, Tommy, I wanna play with you too”, you added, flirting openly.
Tommy's remorse quickly dissipated, you weren’t sure if you had to thank the beers for that or not. The two brothers' bodies pressed against yours two seconds later. Tommy's lips sought yours, while Joel's covered your neck with kisses. The four hands caressed your waist and breasts, and you felt their hard cocks pushing against you. Virility and masculinity emanated from them. Strength, too. They were men, not boys or young men, and had a totally different energy than the guys you had dated so far. And even though your desire for the two brothers was soaking your panties, you started to fear that maybe you wouldn’t be able to manage what was going to happen next.
“Wait, wait”, you breathed out suddenly, while your hands were lost in Tommy’s wavy hair. They pulled away from you slightly at the same time, respecting your uncertainty.
“What is it, darlin’?” Tommy asked you gently.
“I… uh. Fuck.” You looked at him with a mixture of different emotions in the eyes. Joel stood in front of you, side by side with his brother.
“I…damn. I’m a virgin”, you finally confessed, looking down at the ground.
“What the…” Joel said with raised eyebrows, pulling away from you and taking a few steps into the basement, hands on hips.
“Well… I played with dildos but… not real dicks.”
“Christ, darlin’ we can't… We can’t do that” said Tommy, shaking his head.
“You’re a virgin? How is it even possible? I mean… You’re screaming for our cocks and you never took one?” added Joel.
“I just… I dated guys but they were jerks. I never wanted to fuck one of them. Plus…”
“Plus what?” asked Joel.
Alcohol gave you some courage, or unconsciousness, and you murmured “I couldn’t get Tommy out of my head.”
“No shit”, chuckled Joel, “my little bro is a crush of his best friend's daughter…”
“Shut up, Joel. Darlin’, what are you talking-”
“Oh come on, Tommy. You saw how I looked at you. And I saw how you looked at me. I’m an adult. And… you’re hot. Both of you. We can have fun, right? I guess you don't fuck virgins every day. I just need you to go slow."
“No. No way. We can’t do that. Not here, not now… we can’t do that Joel. It was one thing to fuck her. But having her first time with us here? With her father upstairs? No way.”
“Alright, alright. What if… We’d do other things?”
“What things?”
“Using our hands and mouths. We could play with her mouth too.”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. And she drank too much to think clearly”, said Tommy.
“She wasn’t drunk when she was teasing us as soon as we arrived. You want this, baby?” Joel asked, looking at you.
“Yes”, you answered firmly.
“Both of us?”
“Yes.”
Joel moved closer to you, took off your dress, and whistled before looking at his brother.
“We have fun. But we don’t fuck her. Not with our cocks, at least.”
“That’s twisted, Joel”, Tommy murmured, but without being able to take his eyes off your body.
“That’s hot as fuck.”
“Fuck… Ok. Ok...”
A few seconds later, you found yourself on the couch in that basement with Tommy’s shoulders between your thighs.
“Your panties’re soaked, baby, jesus…” he said.
“Told you I wanted it…” you flirted.
“Fuck”, he said, caressing your folds through the fabric, before removing them and spreading your thighs slightly to reveal your pussy. “Damn, look at that, Joel…”
Joel moved closer and Tommy spread you further, so his brother had a perfect view of your bare, dripping pussy.
“What a juicy cunt… Already all swollen up. Can’t wait to taste it. But you go first, man.”
“Yeah”, Tommy breathed out just before he licked a long stripe from your folds to your clit.
You were already moaning at this new sensation. So different from the one you felt when you were making yourself come with your fingers, or even a sex toy. Tommy's tongue ran through your folds, his mustache and beard tickled your fine skin. Then danced at your core, and swirled over your clit, and you didn't know whether to hold on to his hair or his shoulders. Sometimes you would open your eyes and watch Joel, staring where his brother was eating you out, his hand squeezing his crotch to relieve the tension. Tommy pushed one finger in your cunt, and you stared at Joel as you came on Tommy’s finger, his tongue resting on your clit.
“Fuck, that’s hot baby, seeing you all spread like that for my brother…”
Tommy was so pussy drunk from being the first one to lick you that he almost came in his boxers when you clenched on his finger and moaned. He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you felt slightly embarrassed seeing how his mustache and beard glistened from your wetness. Then he got up and slowly pulled his cock out of his pants, and you saw the red, dripping tip of his thick length.
“You wanna suck my cock, darlin’?”
You nodded enthusiastically, but Joel firmly told you “words, baby.”
“Yes. Yes, I wanna suck your cock, Tommy.”
“You’ve never sucked a cock before either?” Joel asked as he in turn knelt between your thighs.
“No… uh Joel? Are you gonna…?”
“Eat ya? Yeah. Fuck yeah. Ya want it?”
“Yeah…Yeah, I want it.”
“You got it, then.”
He spat on your cunt and you gasped, then he spread it with his thumb, careful not to overstimulate you.
“How many times did you get off thinking about my brother, baby?” he asked before licking your soaking pussy.
“A… a lot”, you whimpered, your hands tightening his curls, as you spread your legs as wide as possible to give him full access.
“Yeah, you got off, thinking of my brother’s tongue in your cunt? His fingers? His cock?”
“Yeah”, you breathed out.
“Damn, little brother. What a good little toy we got here...”
The way he was talking about you made you moan, and he buried his tongue between your folds.
Thinking that his brother was eating your pussy a few minutes before was turning you on like never before.
Thinking that the first time someone went down on you, he did it in front of his brother, before he took his place. And you were already wondering if you could convince Tommy to make them take your virginity, and if Joel would lie down between your thighs after his brother. Filling you both with their cum. The thought, coupled with Joel's tongue, made you cum a second time so quickly that you didn’t feel it coming.
“She’s so sensitive…I wonder how many times we’re gonna make her cum, Tommy.”
Tommy was lazily jerking off while watching his brother eat you out. When your shaking stopped, his eyes darkened and he said “sit down, sweetheart. Will be easier to blow me.”
You obeyed, blushing slightly under their gaze on your bare body, but eager to taste his thick cock.
You had watched tons of porn and knew how to do it. But you wanted to hear Tommy tell you what to do, to be in charge. You let him grab your chin between his fingers, and lift it towards him. Applying a light pressure to it.
“Open up for me, darlin’.”
You parted your lips, and he bent over, dropping his saliva in your mouth, which you swallowed right away.
“Gonna be sloppy for me?”
You nodded, eyes fixed on him.
“Stick out your tongue and lick my slit, baby. Wanna see your pretty throat swallow what I’m givin’ you.”
You darted your tongue out and twirled it around his tip, then swallowed his precum. Tasting it for the first time. He held his cock tightly in his hand while the other was holding the back of your head as he pushed his tip between your lips.
Joel had just finished another beer and was watching you suck his brother while palming his crotch.
“How is she?”, he asked.
“Good. Fuckin’ good. A little shy and unsure. It's fuckin’ hot.”
“Can you imagine, her first time playing naughty for real, she wants not one, but two cocks? What kinda slut does that?”
If Joel thought he was embarrassing you by talking about you like that, he was wrong. You pulled back and your eyes fixed on his brother, as you asked feigning shy tone “you like being sucked by your best friend’s daughter, Tommy?” Batting your long eyelashes at him, making Joel chuckle “well, damn…”
“Fuck… You’re a naughty thing, darlin’, aren’t ya? Naughty things like you don’t keep their mouths empty. Keep suckin’.”
You smiled and took him back in your mouth, applying yourself, attentive to his moans and sucking him according to his sensitivity.
Joel opened two beers and offered one to his brother who took sips regularly, his other hand resting on the back of your head while fucking your mouth and throat. Joel sat on the couch next to you, and took out his cock, wanking slowly while drinking his beer too.
“I think my brother needs some relief, baby. Be a good girl and lie down.”
Once laid down, Joel spread your thighs indecently, exposing your soaking wet pussy.
“Gonna let me play with that little cunt, sweetheart?”
You nodded, just before Tommy slipped his cock back in your mouth. Drinking his beer at the same time. Being used like this was turning you on more and more. Both of them still had their clothes on, and you found it so hot. Making you feel even more used.
“Imagine how tight she must be. How she’d squeeze our cocks, if we fucked her like she begs to be. One day, don’t freak out little brother.”
“I know, fuck, stop talking about that or I’m gonna nut.”
Joel smirked and spread your glistening folds with his thumbs and you felt your wetness flowing down to your asshole. He spat on your cunt and you moaned.
“She just loves that,” Tommy smirked, thrusting deeper in your throat.
Joel hummed, and brushed his beer bottle between your folds, and you tensed noticeably.
“Come on, Joel, don’t be a jerk.”
Joel chuckled again, and said “you know I won’t do that. I’m not gonna split her open with a bottle. At least not for her first time. Just wanted to spice up my beer.”
He took a sip of his beer, covered with your wetness.
“Way better, now.”
“Fuck”, said Tommy, watching him.
Joel rubbed his shaft along your folds, making you moan, mouth full of Tommy’s cock. Feeling his cock against your pussy was an overwhelming sensation. So different from feeling a cold dildo. Your hips rolled against Joel’s shaft and he growled.
“Don’t fuck her, Joel”, Tommy warned.
“Yeah. I know. Fuck, I know, I know. Her cunt is trying to swallow me, man, you see that?”
“Yeah… Our little whore. When did you become such a cockslut, baby? Your father raised you as a good, proper girl, and look at you playing with our fat cocks…not that I'm complaining, takin’ such good care of us, damn.”
Joel’s precum was mixing with your wetness and he rubbed his tip against your clit.
“ ‘m gonna come soon… gonna shoot my load on that pretty pussy, cover her in white, fuck…”
“Suck my balls, baby… gonna come soon too.”
Tommy grabbed his big balls and let them cover your mouth and chin as he started to jerk off. You licked, sucked his balls eagerly, like you've seen dozens of times in porns.
“Look at that Joel, holy shit. Better than your lollipop, uh darlin’?”
“See brother, who gives a shit she’s your best friend's daughter? We could rail her all summer, ruin her pretty holes every fucking day. Teach her how to be a perfect fuck.”
Their dirty talk, the way they were talking about you as if you weren’t even here, made you melt and despite your sore jaw, you couldn’t stop licking Tommy’s balls, still jerking off.
“Fuck, darlin’, yeah just like that. Keep suckin’ my balls. Oh god. Fuck!”
His cum spurted out, white pearls falling onto your hair and face as his hand held your mouth pressed against his balls.
You heard Joel growl and he grabbed your hand, holding it against his shaft sliding along your folds, until he came too, his cum covering your pussy and fingers. His jerks against your clit made you cum one last time, your pussy desperately empty, and you only wished to squeeze their shafts soon enough.
“Jesus… you dried our balls so good, baby.”
They tucked their cocks into their jeans, looking at you still lying on the couch covered in their cum, breathing heavily. Tommy brought you a towel and they helped you up.
“You liked it baby? You liked being a good slut for us?
“Never felt better, actually”, you smiled.
The next morning when you came down for breakfast, your father had already made you coffee and toasts.
“Did you have a good evening, sweetie? I think I passed out… Did you help me in to my bedroom? I can’t remember a thing, I'm sorry sweetie.”
“I did, don’t worry ‘bout that, dad, it’s totally ok!”
“I wasn't a very good host or proper father last night. Wasn't it too much work to put everything back together?”
“No, don’t worry. Tommy and Joel helped me.”
“Oh great. I’m glad they helped you, can’t say I’m surprised they did. They’re good Texans, with proper manners.”
“They really are”, you smiled warmly.
That evening, you knocked on Tommy's door. Joel's figure appeared behind him when he opened it.
“I want more,” you murmured.
Part 2
***********
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𝔦 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔢 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔠𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔞~
𝔰𝔶𝔭𝔫𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔰: haikyuu men and reader (you!!!) getting freaky on camera
𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: f! reader, degrading names, creampies, photography during sex, tummy bulging.
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1182
KIYOOMI SAKUSA
it was a well known fact amongst all of kiyoomi's closest friends that a polaroid photo of you sat in the front card slot sakusa's wallet. it was a photo of you with a nervous smile and a large bouquet of tulips, taken the night of one of you and kiyoomi's first dates. you smiled at the photo, remembering the memory fondly.
just as you were about to fold the wallet shut, the border frame of another polaroid sticking out the top caught your eye. you'd flipped through kiyoomi's wallet countless times, whether it be grabbing some change to tip the doordash driver or to grab his coffee card to stamp, but never once had you noticed another polaroid.
you let out a small huff of confusion, pulling out the photo. your face immediately warms up as you're greeted with the sight of your own face, only this time your tongue was out and painted with streaks of white. your eyes were squeezed shut from the flash and a slender hand was wrapped around your bitten neck. you remembered sakusa told you that night, 'you look like a bona fide cumslut', and there was no doubt about it.
you felt an ache between your legs as you remembered all the things kiyoomi had done to you that night. all the filthy praise and condescending names he called had you take a sharp breath in. and like a predator drawn to its prey, you felt a looming presence behind you and a hand coming up to slide the polaroid next to the on display polaroid of you.
'everyone knows you as such a sweet girl', he coos into your ear, stroking his thumb over the bouquet of flowers. your heart skipped a beat as you felt his erection grind up against your ass, his nose nuzzling against your hair.
'but only i know the real you'.
HAJIME IWAIZUMI
'shit', iwaizumi groaned as his hips stuttered, slamming into your ass one more time as he filled your cunt with his cum. his hips rolled against yours, teeth gritted as he made sure to release every drop inside of you. his biceps trembled, finally letting himself plop down on top of you, kissing against the side of your neck. as blissful as he felt like this, he was a gentleman before anything and quickly began on aftercare.
he slowly pulled out, trudging to the en suite to fetch a washcloth. after running it under the tap, he gently moved your hair from your neck, placing the cool cloth where he could see you were sweatiest. he let out a little laugh at your hum of relief, watching the side of your face disappear into the fold of your elbow.
he moved down, gently spreading your legs apart watching as his cum started to trickle out and down your thigh. his cock immediately perked up again, rubbing his thumb over the skin of your inner thigh. it was such a pretty sight, he wanted to be able to see you like this whenever he wanted. his eyes snapped to his phone, nestled among the bedsheets, and a perverted idea came to his head.
'y/n?', he asked gently, hand resting on your lower back. it wasn't uncommon for you to fall asleep after being bred, especially after a long day of work. at your lack of reply he grabbed his phone, quickly swiping to open his camera. he tapped to make sure the camera was focused, he softly spread open your pussylips, taking a photo of your thoroughly spent pussy, and cum covered thighs.
'whatcha doin?', you mumble, tilting your head back to the side, having been woken from your light slumber at the sound of a shutter clicking. a small smirk was playing on your lips as you saw hajime's shocked face, clearly not expecting you to catch him in such an act.
'sorry', he mumbled, cheeks flaming. 'i'll delete it, you just looked so hot i-', he fumbled around his words, licking his lips.
'mmm, show me', you hum, looking at him expectantly. he pauses for a moment, before moving to lay down on his side beside you, hesitantly bringing up the couple of photos he had taken. he watched as you start to nibble on your lip, zooming into the photo.
'that's hot, keep it', you say, blatant and unashamed, smiling sultrily up at him. 'but please just clean me up so i can go to sleep', and who was he to deny you of anything he asked, he thought, nodding quickly as he grabbed the washcloth, but not before saving the photo to his favourites folder. he kisses atop your head, mumbling against your skin.
'how about you take some of me next time?
WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA
you had photography to thank for everything in your life, after all, it was how you had first met your husband. as a photography major at your local university, you were one of the few students selected to photograph the Schweiden Adlers season opening match. you were too entranced trying to focus your lens to notice the volleyball flying towards you, only realising the dire situation you were in when one of the players you were supposed to be photographing ran out in front of you, batting the ball away.
well now, wakatoshi was the one too entranced on trying to focus the lens. you knew not to boss him around, but you really wished he'd hurry up and twist the focus ring. you were both laying naked on your bed, you lying on your back with him between your legs, fiddling with the camera. you can't help but let out an impatient whine, reaching out and grabbing his cock.
his eyes snap to yours, jaw locked as he set the camera down. he grabs your chin, rubbing his thumb against your lip. 'where, oh where did my good little girl go?', he teases. his gaze doesn't break as he watches you squirm in fear, albeit he's not stopping you from jerking his cock.
you grab the head of his cock, shuffling forward to press it against the entrance of your pussy. 'i'm here', you mumble around his finger, ashamed of your impudence. before you can even think to start to beg for him to fuck you already, wakatoshi sheathes his entire cock into you in one quick motion.
immediately, your eyes rolled to the back of your head then squeezed shut as a needy moan sounded from your quivering lips. he held your hips in place to stop you from squirming around, and just relished in the feeling of your pussy wrapped so snug around his pulsing cock.
he took his time picking up the digital camera, his other hand resting over the obvious bulge poking out of your lower stomach. 'breathe baby', he reminds you, watching you flounder around in your aroused state. he snaps a quick photo of your stomach, with his hand resting on your him. he scoffs when he hears you whining again, feeling your pussy twitch around him. he chuckles at your desperation, leaning down to whisper into your ear
'how do i video on this thing, i wanna make you my personal pornstar?'
thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, follows, and general feedback are all appreciated♥️
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#iwaizumi x reader#hq smut#iwaizumi smut#ushijima x reader#ushijima smut#sakusa x reader#sakusa smut#i forgot how to tag is that all#guys……i hope u like this
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The Giggles
Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI because making out and Kells getting a lil' hot and bothered...maybe a lot hot and bothered
Summary: You have your first ever kiss with Clayton and you can't stop giggling, it's fucking adorable.
Notes: The first time I ever kissed a guy (at 24) I kept giggling (did that every time he kissed me for at least a month) and I think Kells would find it fucking endearing. So that's the inspo for this.
I'm a sucker for late bloomer/inexperienced reader shit cause that be me so have this little brain rot.
Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)
Writing Masterlist
You have no idea what the fuck you are doing. It's so stupid that you've made it this far in life, your 20s, without so much as a kiss and now you're sat in Clayton Keller's car and he's looking at you like that and you're certain he's going to kiss you and you have no idea what you are doing or what you're supposed to do.
It's late, near midnight but neither of you had wanted the date to end and Clayton had suggested you go to a lookout point, sit in his car and talk for as long as you wanted. All on your terms he said, when you wanted to leave he'd take you straight back home. He's been nothing but a gentleman, it makes sitting there with him like that, alone, feel safe, comfortable.
Turns out the lookout point had a great view of the city and the stars. Turns out sitting in a car talking to Clayton Keller makes you never want to go home. There's something about the atmosphere inside the car that has you melting under his attention; the way the interior of the car is lit solely by a few internal lights that give off a cool blue light, how Clayton had put the heating on the moment he saw you shivering, heated seats turned on for added measure, his hand reaching out to rub warmth into your leg until the car warmed itself, how he moved both your seats until your headrests were inline, the fact the music was playing, but so low that it removed the awkwardness of silence while still allowing you two to be in your own bubble.
You were both facing each other in your seats, you leaning your cheek into the leather of the seat, watching him from underneath your eyelashes as he finished telling you about a story from practice. Something about the new pup Archie being brought out onto the ice and scrambling about, all four legs splaying wide as he struggled to grip the ice properly.
He's beautiful, you knew this when he first asked you to go out, but it's even more clear like this when he's smiling wide, teeth on show, dimples deepening as he laughs at the memory. You can't help the way you look at him and he can't help that he notices.
You're so fucking pretty, the way you lean your cheek against his car seat, how you tuck your legs underneath you like you're both sat in his house, on his couch. You wore the prettiest dress to the date and he's been almost incapable of ungluing his eyes from you all night, and now is no exception. In the dim lights of his car you look so fucking soft, sweet, looking up at him from underneath your lashes like he's the most interesting thing in the world.
You blink slow at him as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, but a silence that's no less filled with tension. You can feel it, the buzz in the air that would normally be your cue to say something that ruins it, something that cuts the tension. The buzz in the air that has you swallowing nervously because his blue eyes keep dipping down to your lips, tracing them like he doesn't want to forget what they look like, like he wants a taste of you.
You try not to jump when he moves slowly, coming to lean into your space, his arm resting over the back of your seat until he's so close you can count the few freckles on his skin, and smell the expensive cologne he's wearing. Your eyes aren't sure where to look; his eyes, his lips, the way his Adam's apples bobs in his throat, that chain of his that peeks out from beneath his dress shirt.
Clay's eyes dart from your own to your lips and back again, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip, a motion you instinctively copy. The air feels thick, heavy and there's a roiling buzz in your gut, a giddy sensation so strong you're not sure what to do with it, not sure how to relieve it or cope with it.
"Can I kiss you?"
You can't help it, the giggle slips out without your permission, a hand coming up to cover your lips as look at him all wide eyed and sweet. It's fucking adorable and he can't help the way he smirks at you, eyes becoming more heavily lidded because fuck he wants to kiss you and swallow that giggle in his mouth.
"Can I kiss you? Please, baby?" He asks again, watching the warmth flood your cheeks, the way your eyelashes flutter against the apples of them like the wings of a dove and you lower your hand, lip bitten between your teeth. You're the picture of innocent seduction and it floors him further because you have no idea what you're doing to him.
"...Yes..." Your voice is so so quiet, shy like speaking too loudly might ruin it, might break this moment.
Clayton's free hand reaches out for your cheek, fingers brushing across the warm skin with a reverence that is better suited for worship in a church than the interior of a car at 11:45pm on a Friday night. The nerves grow in your stomach as his fingers trail down, thumb pulling your lip free from between your teeth.
You have to swallow another giggle of nerves as his hand reaches your throat, lightly holding your neck, thumb brushing underneath your jaw in a soothing back and forth that has your eyelids fluttering. He's slow as he leans in, gives you time to pull away at any second, but you don't. For once in your life you stay put in this moment, in this feeling.
His lips are warm against yours, softer than you expected from a hockey player. Bottom lip plush as he captures your own between his lips, you have no idea what you're doing, but you trust your gut, follow his lead, moving your lips against his in a rhythm that you think is passable. Your hand coming up to tangle in the strands of hair at the base of his neck.
When he pulls back, he leaves little distance between you, just enough to breathe, your noses brushing. It's the overwhelming giddy feeling that surges in your stomach, in your blood that has you giggling again, face pressing into his neck to hide it, giggling like a little girl at your first kiss.
"Did you just laugh?" He's not mad, no, he can't be. Not at the cute little giggle that keeps escaping as your feet curl under you, like his kiss has given you a burst of undiluted energy. You're hiding your face into his neck, smile growing against his skin and it makes Clay's own begin, corners starting to turn up, teeth starting to peek out. His hand on your throat flexes, not constricting, just a reminder it's there, that he moved with you, his ring cool against your skin.
"I'm sorry...I don't know what I'm doing..." His smiles grow wider, pressing his face into your hair, nose nuzzling just besides your ear like this isn't the first time you've kissed, like you do this all the time.
"Have you never kissed someone before, baby?" He expects you to say you have, that it's just been a while but you don't, pulling back to look at him, eyes wide and lip back between your teeth like it's found a home there.
"I'm sorry...I...no..." and shit, if he doesn't want to puff up a little at that, that he's the first guy that ever got to kiss you, that's ever got to taste you. That he's the first guy you decided was good enough to get this close to you. That he gets to show you how a kiss should be, how you should be treated...fuck...
"Hey, don't be sorry, just tell me...the giggles are good right?" He smirks at you even as he reassures you because he doesn't want you shying away from him, doesn't want you thinking he has a single problem with how inexperienced you are, cause fuck he wants to show you everything.
You nod shyly, a confirmation that your giggle fits are nothing if not positive, an expression of all the unusual feelings, the giddy rush that fills your body every time he touches you.
"C'mere then, sweet girl," You follow his lead when he grips your hips, leading you to move across the centre console until you're straddling his lap, knees pressing into the warm leather on either side of his thighs, arms over his shoulders, stomach buzzing with nerves as you look down at him.
Clay's hand tugs the skirt of your dress down for you, eyes staying on yours, not daring to peak, covering you properly like a gentleman before you settle comfortably on his lap. His hands smooth over your thighs. His hands so large they're twice the size of yours.
"'m gonna kiss you again, okay?" It's whispered almost on your lips, his hand trailing up slowly, oh so slowly from your thigh, over your hip and ribs, almost ticklish in its course of travel, until it comes to rest back around your throat like it belongs there. Flexing just slightly so you can feel how his whole hand covers your throat, like it was made for the space. The way his ring touches your skin, cool metal against the hammering pulse at your neck, how his fingers have you, firm, but gentle in their grasp, how his bracelets tickle the hollow of your throat.
He can feel your giggle against his palm, the way your throat contracts and relaxes under his hand as you unleash it again, like you can't stop it. The most perfect fucking sound he's ever heard. The giggle you let out doesn't stop him this time, nor the way your eyelashes flutter nervously. He gets it now. You're nervous, you're giddy, your body full of those unknown feelings, things you're not used to, things he's making you feel for the first time.
Clayton's breath is warm across your lips as he hovers just over them for a second before slating his mouth back against yours. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, pulling slightly, tugging until you open up all hesitant and sweet because you had no idea what you're doing even as you giggle and sigh into his mouth, into the taste of the tiramisu he had for dessert.
You gasp at the feeling of his tongue against yours, the way he delves into you hungry, desirous but slow, not rushing as his free hand tangles in your hair, just tugging slightly at the roots. Enough that it sends a warmth through you, every inch of you tingling with a want you've never felt directed at someone before.
One hand of yours curls into his hair, freshly done nails scratching against his scalp in a way that has him groaning low in his throat, the feeling made better by the fact you don't even realise how good you are. Your other hand curling over his shoulder, nails biting into the back of his dress shirt, he wants you to leave a mark, a reminder of this moment, that he's the first man to make you feel like this. That he's the first man to have you falling apart, trembling in his lap like a simple kiss is too much.
The way he kisses you leaves you breathless, head dizzy, teeth clanking together, tongue licking into your mouth like you're the best thing he's ever tasted and you might just be. The hand at your throat tightens, not enough to constrict anything, but just enough to make your head buzz a little, to make you whimper into his mouth like this is all too much, this, something people do everyday, is too much.
You're scrabbling to find purchase on him, holding him close, tight like he's an anchor in rough storm. Every tug of his hair, every dig of your nails into his shoulder, sends tingles down his spine and he has to remind himself this is new for you. This is enough for tonight. Reminds himself not scare you off, no matter how badly he wants to flatten the car seats and climb over top of you, no matter how badly he's straining against his dress pants or how badly he wants to taste you right now. This enough.
When he releases your lips you gasp in a breath like you've been underwater, giggle quickly taking over, loud and bright and so fucking lovely. Uncontrollable as you giggle into his shoulder and he loves it, he loves the warmth of your cheeks, the brightness of your giddy smile, the way you burrow against him in your joy.
He hopes you never lose it. Hopes you giggle every single time he kisses you until the day he dies because there is nothing more beautiful than the naked, raw expression of how he makes you feel. The girlish delight at a man, a guy, you like kissing you for the first time, for the second time, maybe forever?
"Fuck, you're so beautiful..." The way he looks down at you as you're giggling on his shoulder makes you stop, breath non-existent because god, how can he look at you like that with eyes like that an not expect you to fall in love. "So pretty..."
He can't help it, dipping back down to capture your lips because fuck you're gorgeous and pliable and warm. You taste like the cocktail you drank at dinner, a little bit fruity and a little bit alcoholic.
It takes everything in Clayton to pull away. Everything in him to let your lips go, to not drag you to the backseat and spread your thighs for him, but he knows that's too much too soon, knows you need easing in if a kiss makes you have a giggle fit.
His nose nuzzles against yours, smirk firmly in place because you're already trying to hold back another giggle and he just can't help how proud it makes him, to know he's brought you to that, made you a giddy mess in his lap.
"Should probably get you home, 's getting late, baby..."
You want to whine, want to complain, ask to stay here all night but you can feel how hard he is underneath your ass and you know...you know this is his way of being a gentleman, his way of going slow. You know if you ask to stay it'll go further than you're ready for, so you nod instead and let him guide you back to your seat.
You let him fix the skirt of your dress again, like a good boy, covering you up. You let him buckle your seatbelt and don't comment when his fingers linger over your cleavage or pinch your hip lightly.
The whole ride back to your house his hand is on your thigh, maybe a little higher than normal, maybe slipping just slightly under the hem of your dress, pressing circles into your inner thigh in a way that makes your blood heat, makes your cunt tingle because fuck...
You consider it. Consider asking him to come inside, but you can't. Not yet. Still you let him walk you to your front door, let him help you up your steps as if you aren't perfectly capable and when you turn to face him under your porch light, ring doorbell camera capturing the moment, you don't resist when he pushes you lightly into the side of your house. You don't protest when his hands barricade either side of your head, leaning over you until you're in your own little cocoon called Clayton Keller.
"Can I see you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow." Fuck, you've never had a guy want to see you so soon, but then you've never had a guy like Clayton Keller. Tonight's full of firsts.
"Yes, please."
It's the sweet little please that you tack on the end that has him groaning, head falling forward, forehead pressing against your own because you're so fucking sweet that he wants to absolutely ruin you.
The lips slant against yours this time in a bruising fashion, desperate, hungry, still he's careful, a hand cushioning your head as it bumps back against the side of your house, a hand at your throat tilting your head back like it'll help him devour you further.
The way he rips his lips from yours to breathe is almost feral, panting over you like he might eat you alive and you consider it, consider letting him, consider unlocking your front door and dragging him in by the hand, consider how it might be to tug at his hair while he kisses down your neck...but you don't.
"Fuck, sweet girl, you're gonna be the death of me, y'know that?"
You can only giggle again, face pressed back into his chest like you might be able to hide from him there and like that he's a goner. He's pretty sure you've dug his heart out from his chest and popped it into your pocket.
His hands, so fucking large one of them could cover your face, tilt your head back gently and away from his chest until you're looking at him again, meeting his baby blues as he smiles down at you all soft and gentle, "Tomorrow, 6pm, I'll pick up, okay?"
"Okay..."
He can't really resist it, the last kiss he presses to your lips, short, sweet but no less delightful than every taste of your lips he's had tonight. "G'night, baby."
"Night, Clay..."
He watches you unlock your door, waits until you wave goodnight, until you're inside, door closed and he hears the distinctive click and turn of the lock before he all but skips down the steps of your porch.
He's practically dancing to his car cause fuck, that's his future wife right there and he's determined to make you his by the end of the month.
#huggy bear writes#clayton keller x reader#clayton keller#clayton keller/reader#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#18+ mdni
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