#it is cool to like. put your feelings into words. this is a lot more eloquent than ‘i miss linebeck’

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!

─ word count | 2.6k

─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????

─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk

─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.

"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.

You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."

You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.

"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."

Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."

You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."

You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"

"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.

With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.

After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.

You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.

But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.

Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"

"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"

Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."

"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.

As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.

You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.

In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.

As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.

"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.

You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"

Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.

"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.

Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."

You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.

You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.

"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.

"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"

"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.

As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.

At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.

But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.

Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.

Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.

──

"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.

"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.

Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"

Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"

"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"

"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.

As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.

She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.

"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.

"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."

With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."

Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.

She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.

The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.

Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.

Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.

As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.

She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."

She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.

"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."

Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.

"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#uconn #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #ncaaw #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #wcbb

[zyafics]

omg hi!! hope ur doing well i love ur writing btw, (play fake is one of my fav fics ive EVER read!!)

could u do a fic where rafe and reader are like best friends, and they’ve always both kinda liked each other but they dont really act upon it, until rafe gets a buzzcut and reader starts acting like real shy and clumsy around him bcs she’s shocked abt how he could get even MORE attractive, and then he gets linda confused so he asks her why she’s acting so different and then she tells him? make it as smutty and fluffy as u want! 🫶🫶

first off, ily 🥹 and omg, YES!! i've been thinking about this ever since i got your req in my inbox, so here's my very earnest attempt at doing it justice 🩷

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

pairing rafe cameron x bsf!female reader

reader type kook, spontaneous, loves adventure, hates silence, loves noises, doesn't exactly like her reality, and friends with topper and kelce, but is only close to rafe!

content (5.3k words) 18+, fluff, smut, soft!rafe to reader only, protected p in v, f receiving oral, lots of banter!, nicknames used: baby and wildflower.

dedication to @mintforadollar for helping me with the nickname and for @erwinsvow for her lovely fic, which i drew inspiration from and i've been obsessing over for the past two weeks <3

lıllılı Wildflower by 5 Seconds of Summer

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"I want to run away."

It takes a moment for Rafe to register your confession and his response is a drowsy laugh. "Buy a guy dinner first."

You let out a groan, slumping against your wrinkled sheets and abundant pillows spread across your bed. "I'm being serious, Rafe. I'm tired of this house. It's too empty and quiet. I can't stand it. At night, I think I can hear my skin buzzing."

Rafe is accustomed to your sporadic calls regarding whatever issues you had with the world. Last week, it was about the insufficient amount of family portraits that frame the halls of your mansion.

"Maybe you just need to change your sheets."

"Stop!" You chastise. Rafe chokes up with another beat of laughter, low and rich with the deep timbre of his voice. The sound temporarily draws you away from your rant, igniting a small ember in your stomach. You brush away those tingly thoughts. "You're not listening to me."

"I think I'm listening to you perfectly fine, wildflower." He reassures, the solemnity of his tone takes you off the edge. Rafe shuffles on the other line, moving to a sitting position against his headboard. "What do you want? Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You cower from his offer, tucking one of your pillows under your chin. "You don't have to..."

"Don't get all shy with me now. You can't act this way when you're waking me up in the dead of night to report about your getaway plans."

"I feel bad."

Rafe sighs, getting off his bed. He knows the outcome of this conversation and rather prepares himself for the short drive. "I'm heading over."

"I could walk."

"It's freezing outside."

"Your house is down the block. I can survive."

"I'm already out the door. Just stay put." Rafe announces and before he's about to disconnect the call, he adds. "I'm serious."

He arrives in record time. Honking his truck with no regards for the nearby neighbors and you pad downstairs with a bag, descending down the driveway to the passenger side of his truck. A little shiver travels down your spine at the cool North Carolina weather.

"God, what did I tell you?" He scolds, noticing your lack of outwear, and reaches for the blanket in the backseats he keeps just for you. He throws it at your face, suffocating your air with a fluffy white fleece. You roll your eyes, covering your shoulders with it as Rafe reverses. "Where do you want to go?"

"Thought I'm supposed to buy you a meal first."

He doesn't bother entertaining your retort with a glance and flicks the side of your head with his fingers. You giggle. "We're not running away."

"Who said you're included in this adventure? I remember it being a one-person job."

Rafe scoffs. "You can't run away. You'd miss me too much."

"No, you'd miss me too much." You tease back, watching his lips pull to an upward curve at your words. It makes your heart flutters, knowing you always manage to get this side of Rafe. To the rest of Outer Banks, Rafe is seen as a precarious, self-absorbed playboy, but to you, he's your best friend.

And a little more.

The truck parks on the roadside of Tannyhill, the silhouettes of the estate surrounded by shadowy oak trees and a deep reflection of the moon on their waterfront view. Rafe doesn't make a move to leave, nor turn off the engine, before he turns to you.

"You okay?" He asks gravely, all humor stripped off his handsome features. You feel the air of your lungs stolen, at the amount of attention he's paying you, and the atmospheric change turns you to a bashful version of yourself.

"Fine." You answer, looking to your lap. "You know..."

Despite your house being a near-identical model to Rafe's, you hate yours. It's nothing about the architecture but rather the emptiness of the hallways. The cold floors sweep with minimalist decors. The echoes in the chambers where you can hear every little whirl in the air conditioner and creaks in the pipes. You'd rather be at Tannyhill.

Rafe doesn't say anything for the next few moments, observing you, before conceding a sigh. "Tell you what. I'll take you out on the Druthers tomorrow. We'll go bright and early, sail out for a couple of hours, watch the sunrise and it'll be something."

You lift your head, eyes lit up. "Is this our escape?"

"We gotta come back, though."

You frown but the offer remains enticing. It's better than nothing.

"Okay, deal." You nod, holding out your pinkie finger. Rafe scoffs at your gesture, but nonetheless, returns it. "Don't look so glum. You get to hang out with me."

"You do realize we have about three hours of sleep?"

You glance at the clock on his dashboard. He's right. But, you don't want to hold it off till another day. "I can go by myself. Just give me the keys for tomorrow."

He rolls his eyes, as if he would even consider that suggestion, and shakes his head. "I'm coming with you."

"Aren't you afraid you won't get your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up and get in the house."

You laugh and hop out of his truck. When you enter through his bedroom, you throw your bag to a random corner and stroll over to his closet in search for one of Rafe's tees to sleep in.

When you settle on something, you strip out of your clothes—in the middle of his bedroom, just as Rafe enters—and exchange it for his shirt. He had little regard for your act, having grown accustomed to you changing in front of him and vice versa. 

All Rafe does is pull off his own shirt, because he likes to sleep naked, and turns back to you. Unlike him, you're never going to get used to seeing him naked—the defined muscles of his chest, the toned planes of his abs, all those hours spent at the gym are clearly not wasted.

You flush, realizing you're ogling him longer than appropriate, and lift your gaze to find a smirk curving his lips. "Oh, shut it," you push his shoulders, causing him to laugh. He takes the opportunity to capture your hand, pulling the both of you onto his mattress, and you yelp.

Rafe changes your position so you're facing him, an arm sprawls over your waist, and there's about a couple of inches of space between the two of you. Here, in the low streams of the moonlight glistening through the veiled curtains and the faint aroma of his cologne on his pillows, you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

You say nothing. He says nothing, You stare into his cerulean eyes, knowing all this little emotions you're feeling all over—the light pricks on your skin where he touches you, the lapse in your breathing from how attentive he is, and the sharp incline of your heart rate pulsing through your veins—is because of him.

His voice is low when he says, "you know you're my best friend, right?"

You couldn't find it in you to answer. You just nod.

Rafe swallows hard, not having the ability to string together the next sentence. Instead, all he does is nod along, leaning forward to place a light kiss on your forehead, before falling asleep.

The next morning, just an hour before the sunrise, Rafe and you head to the ports to board the Druthers. Despite the lack of adequate sleep, you were giddily and strumming with high energy. He holds out his hand to guide you up the stairs, afraid your enthusiasm would cause you to miss a step. 

When the Druthers is far enough from shore, it pulls to a halt, gently bobbing on the ocean waves of the tame morning. You settle on the deck and Rafe slides into the spot next to you. Here, you have the perfect view of the sun slowly rising from the horizon, painting the sky in a palette of red, orange and yellow.

You're grinning. You're feeling much better, especially after your melodramatic episode. Your head rests on Rafe's chest, observing the skyline until the sun reaches its acme, while he watches you. Something about you, happy, content, and with him brings a warmth no one can replicate.

"We have to go swimming." You announce suddenly, twisting your head to look at him with excitement bubbling on your features, doe eyes pleading with a want.

His expression is flat, trying to contain his emotions. "It's seven in the morning."

"So? When has that stopped me before?"

"It's freezing cold."

"That's your excuse for everything." You scoff, before tilting your head in a challenge. "Are you scared of a little water, Rafe Cameron?"

There's a twinkle in your eyes, something about the way you talk to him, he would never allow from anyone else. It's just you. He had to look away, pretending to shake his head from the idea but knowing, at the end, he lost.

With a long dip into the ocean, you swim around the Druthers with light splashes thrown in his face, causing Rafe to chase after you for your little stunt. When the pair of you returned to the boat, dripping wet on the floor deck, laughter exchanging at the break of dawn.

"You cheated!" You accuse, grinning.

"I did not. You're just slow."

When you change out of your bikini and Rafe changes out of his swim trunks, you return to the cockpit where Rafe dons a new attire: khaki pants, a polo shirt, and his backward baseball cap. The air shifts, a more solemn expression on his face.

"You had enough now, wildflower?" He tips his head to your direction, as you approach him. "Ready to return back to the real world?"

You groan. "What's so special about that place?"

"Nothing that matters to you," he declares, "but I have a couple of errands I have to run today. I have to get back, but I won't leave until you're feeling better."

"Hm." You consider your satisfaction. Standing before Rafe, you watch as his lips curl in amusement at the way you're mauling through the finer details. The itinerary of your day and whether it was enough. When your eyes lock with his, you offer him a sweet smile, albeit a little reluctant.

"What?"

You don't answer him, reaching for his hat and taking it off his head, before plopping it over your own as a keepsake souvenir. "Now, I am."

—

After spending your afternoon with Topper and Kelce at the Country Club, distracting them from their tee time with your commentary about their swings, Rafe finally arrives to join you.

But it's different.

When Rafe said he had a couple of errands to run, you didn't ask for their specifics. He just said he'll join you later and you were content with that assumption.

You should've prepared yourself.

Rafe got a new haircut; a buzz that took away his dirty blond locks and a clean fade on the sides. For some reason, it makes your heart accelerate. Your breath shortens. Rafe has always been attractive before but now, you couldn't even look at him.

When he tries to approach you in greeting, you dip out of the way and return to Topper and Kelce. However, in the middle of your path, you nearly tripped over some hazardously-abandoned golf club one of the boys threw out, but Rafe caught you. A hand on your elbow, his brows drawn together in concern.

"You good?" He asks. You can't help but let your eyes stray up to his hairline, finding it voided of the curtain bangs it previously occupies and the strands you like to mess with. Your gaze instantly drops to the ground.

"I'm–I'm fine." You stutter, heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassing fact that you couldn't even make a clean getaway. Rafe helps you find your balance and you slip out of his grasp as you excuse yourself back to the other Kooks.

That's how the rest of the evening went. Through another round of golf and a dinner at the restaurant inside the Country Club, you try to ignore Rafe to the best of your abilities. It was a difficult task but a necessary one. Your emotions were fuzzy and harder to control. You couldn't even look at your best friend without flushing or revealing everything on your face.

You thought you could wait it out till you get home.

"Come on, wildflower." Rafe grabs your wrist, just as you're about to join Topper in his car, and you turn to face his contempt expression. Annoyance written over his features. "I'm driving you home."

"No, it's fine. Top said he can give me a ride—"

"We live nearby each other. There's no point for Top to do all that. Right?" Rafe cuts a hard look to the blond in the driver seat, to whom easily backs off with two hands raised in surrender. Coward. Rafe turns back to you. "Let's go."

You end up in the passenger seat of his truck. On the long drive back to Figure Eight, you were uncharacteristically quiet. Often, you would fidget with the stereo, messing with Rafe's presets on country and rap stations, to which he always has to swat your hands away. Today, you sat obediently in your seat, hands tucked between your thighs, looking anywhere but Rafe.

"You're not going to listen to music?" He asks, trying to cut the silence. You shake your head.

"I'm not feeling it."

You try to count the seconds. You try to distract yourself by looking out the window and listening to the chirps of crickets coming out, but all you can focus on is the sound of yours and Rafe's breathing. The acute awareness of something in the air. The amount of space between the two of you. The way something deep in you changed about him.

It isn't his fault. Whatsoever. It's all yours. All those times spent at Tannyhill, stealing his shirts to wear to sleep, cuddling up in his bed after sneaking out of your estate, running around with Rafe doing god-knows-what. You developed something for him. A crush. An inkling.

You always told yourself you could control it. It's natural for best friends to like each other at one point. It'll fade away eventually.

But, unfortunately for you, that isn't the case. it got worse. It grew more desperate. With each inching territory into something else means a larger consequence it can have on your friendship.

You can't lose him.

"Hey." Rafe calls out, his voice softens considerably from the aggression he used with Topper a while back. You don't turn to face him, despite that being his sole objective, and you respond back with a light hum. "Am I driving you home or Tannyhill?"

To you, those are the same things. Home is where Tannyhill is, where Rafe is. But, you knew what he was referring to.

"Tannyhill." You answer in a chipped tone. "I forgot my bag."

"Of course, you did." He teases, trying to break the tension with some lightheartedness. It doesn't work. You don't answer, too lost in resisting the urge to look at him.

Rafe sighs when you refuse to acknowledge him and turns back to the road. That's when you spare a glance from the corner of your peripheral; just a small peek.

And there he is: Rafe with the fresh shave that is such a strange yet welcomed sight. It brings out a clearer definition of his handsome features, the planes of his sharp profile, the cut of his jawline and the wrinkles around his eyes you always adore. It's too much for you.

You can't let him know that.

He's your best friend.

When he reaches Tannyhill, you leap out of the moving vehicle and race up the porch. You take the hidden key from under the mat and turn the lock, slipping into the familiar foyer and up the large stairwell.

Racing against an internal clock, once you enter the bedroom, you search for your bag, but you can't seem to pinpoint its location. When you manage to miraculously find it underneath the covers, you throw it over your shoulders and sprint to the exit.

Only for Rafe to block it.

"Why are you in such a rush?" He asks, his brows furrowed together as he examines you. You quickly drop your gaze to the ground, pretending to be interested in the patterns on the marble.

"I just..." You stammer for an excuse. "I just got to get home."

"Why? You hate your house."

"I don't hate it." You lie. The conversation tips into an awkward tension—the exact thing you were trying to avoid. You think you need to spend a day, or two, or a whole week, to collect yourself and force yourself back to normal. Back to when you can look at him without revealing everything on your face.

"God, what is it? You don't like it?" Rafe laughs with an ounce of nervousness and the sound takes you back. You look up, finding him running a hand over his buzzcut. "It's my hair, isn't it?"

He didn't know why he decided to buzz it off. He just did. He didn't care if his father didn't approve or if Wheezie would make fun of him for the sudden change in appearance. That didn't matter to him.

But your opinions did.

"What?" Your lips part. Were you that obvious? "I never said that."

"You didn't need to. This entire evening, you've barely looked at me."

He's right.

"I was busy."

"Playing golf with Top? You hate that shit." He retorts, dropping his hand to his side, clenching them into whiten knuckles. "And when we were at the restaurant. You were sitting with Kelce. Why the fuck were you sitting with him instead of me?"

You swallow hard. Your throat is tightening with all the words you can't reveal.

"Maybe I just want to change it up. I am friends with them too—"

"But you're my friend first."

You scoff. "Possessive much?"

"Very." He answers nonchalantly. Your heart skips a beat. He can't say that; it's not fair. "And knowing you for so long, I know what you're telling me is complete and total bullshit."

His hand slides under your jaw, lifting your gaze to meet his, and you can't help but feel your walls crumbling. You're afraid. You're so afraid.

"Come on, wildflower." He murmurs softly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. "Tell me the truth."

You have always been able to do that. In ways. When Rafe asks something of you, you're always able to tell him straight. It's one of the qualities he likes about you. Now is the first time you're going against your nature. Because it's too close, too real, that it can change everything.

Your throat grows dry and you lick your bottom lip, causing Rafe to glance down.

"I..." You begin, trying to string together a coherent sentence that won't damage everything. He raises a brow, waiting. "Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you."

You close your eyes after the confession. Your heart is in his hands.

All the air in the room stills, as if the air conditioner turns off and you're all left with a tense, palpable silence. You can't bear it. At least, at your house, you can blast your speakers on full-volume to create some level of noise and block it out. Here, all you can hear is the thumping of your heart in your ears.

"Say something." You urge.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you too."

Your heart drops. You think he doesn't understand. He thinks you can't stand him physically, especially after his haircut, and this is a similar sentiment shared by him about you.

He doesn't feel the same way.

"Oh."

You open your eyes, trying hard not to cry. You can feel them swelling with hot tears but you blink fast, trying to not let Rafe see.

He immediately recognizes the look, drawing back his hand. That’s not what he meant. "Don't cry."

You're not doing a good job at hiding anything today. "No, it's okay," you say with a crack voice, "you don't have to—"

"No, fuck," he swears, "what I mean is that, sometimes, when you look at me, I just—" He couldn't explain himself, not in time, not in the way he wants, that he covers your eyes, flooding your vision with darkness and heightening every other sense.

Rafe releases a deep exhale, collecting himself. "Those eyes..." He mumbles, the resonance of his voice so close, it's as if he's right beside you. You feel his breathing fanning against the curve of your neck, raising goosebumps. "They drive me fucking insane."

Then, he kisses your neck.

The act jolts you by surprise.

"Everything about you drives me insane." He confesses against your heated skin, the vibration of his words sending straight tingles through your body. "I can't go a day without thinking about you. About wanting you."

Not just as a best friend, but as a whole. Everything about you he needs. In his life; forever. Sometimes, he can't believe you exist.

You're overwhelmed with all these new emotions. Your heart is swelling. "Rafe..."

"You're my best friend, right?" He muses, delivering kisses up the column of your throat to the underside of your jaw, and making his way closer to your lips. "But you're also the only one for me."

Before he gets to your mouth, you grab his wrist, the one holding you blindfolded. He stops in place—afraid this is your time to reject him.

"Rafe." You breathe out. "Can I see you?"

He slowly removes his hand, allowing your vision to flood back with his presence. This time, the sight of Rafe doesn't push you into overdrive. There's a new sense of clarity and calm, an elated comfort you don't share with anyone else.

You take your time drinking him in. From his face, to his lips, to the fresh haircut you're feeling entirely too grateful for. You do it all without fear.

"What?" He demands, his insecurities skyrocketing through the roof. "Don't like it?"

"I love you."

His heart lunges in his chest. He couldn't believe the words coming from your lips. When it completely registers that this is not some sweet, wet dream he's going to wake up from, his hands reach forward to cup either side of your face and he finally kisses you.

His force pushes you back against his bed and you land on the mattress with a soft thump. You laugh into his mouth and Rafe grins against your lips.

"Eager, much?"

"I wanted to hear you say that for so long." He admits, his hand travels down your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer. Rafe deepens the kiss, swallowing the little sounds you're making, until you have to pull away to catch your breath.

You can't believe this is happening.

"I didn't know you were such a good kisser."

"Yeah? You wanna know what else I'm good at?"

Your eyes drop to his pants, seeing the subtle outline of his erection straining against his zipper, and he chuckles lowly. "You want it tonight?"

You nod timidly. Your eyes dropping to your lap again, but this time, Rafe doesn't allow you to do such things.

He grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to his. "Don't do that, baby. You know how I feel about you getting shy from asking what you want. Use your words."

The new nickname is making you lightheaded. You can't believe this is real. "I want you, Rafe."

Sweetest goddamn words he ever heard.

He tips his head to your clothes. "Take it off."

"You first."

He laughs at your competitiveness, always trying to challenge him, but he doesn't resist. He pushes himself off the mattress, pulling off his shirt and removing his pants. All that is left is his boxer-briefs, which reveals the outline of his bulge. "Your turn."

You take off your shirt and your shorts and decide, last minute, to go the extra mile and unclasp your bra too. It falls over your shoulders and you throw it out onto the floor.

Rafe takes his time, staring at your tits. He has seen you naked before, the consequence of your intimate relationship that pushes the boundaries into blurred lines and the inevitable collision of morning showers in his ensuite and drunken exchanges after parties.

But this time, it's different. This time, it's a sight that's intentional—just for him.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?"

You gawk at him, the words send a thrill down your spine. "Do you know how long I waited for this?" You gesture back to him, at his naked frame, and he smirks.

"You got an eyeful last night."

"Oh, shut up," you use your leg to kick him, but Rafe catches your ankle in the process. Your eyes widen as he uses the opportunity to spread your legs apart, sinking between your thighs. His gaze finds your soaked panties.

His thumb traces across your panties, drawing out your wetness against the fabric and collecting your arousal. You whimper, aching into his touch.

"Rafe, please." You beg. His eyes lifts to find yours in a self-satisfied grin. He loves knowing you're this desperate for him, only him, that his fingers hook under the band of your panties.

"Lift your hips for me." He commands and you obey. He pulls off your panties and hauls you to the ledge of his bed. With that, his fingers caress your wet slit, drawing out a low moan from you. "Fuck."

He has imagined that sound a thousand times over, but it's incomparable to the real thing. To know you're feeling this way because of him. He feels himself growing harder, straining against the thin fabric and begging to be inside of you.

But he wants to pleasure you first.

Rafe lowers himself and covers your clit with his mouth. He proceeds to suck, his fingers grazing your entrance before plunging a thick digit inside.

You tip your head against the mattress, reveling in the feel of his tongue against your swollen nub, the way he thrusts into you with a steady pace and the additive finger. Your legs drape over his shoulders, closing him in.

"Fuck, baby, you taste so sweet," Rafe mumbles against you, the vibration of his words stirring something inside of you. "I can't believe I haven't been tasting you every single fucking night."

You draw out with a breathy moan, feeling yourself clench at his words. "We have all the time now."

"I bet I can make you come on my face fast, though."

You don't get a chance to entertain the response before Rafe sucks harder, pumping inside of you with a determined speed that causes you to arch off the mattress and claw at his sheets.

"Shit," you whimper, squeezing your thighs together at the intense pleasure, forcing Rafe to use his free hand to push your legs apart. You feel your climax rapidly approaching. "Oh, god, oh, god."

You come on his face, as promised, and you slump back against the bed, catching your breath. Rafe removes his hand from your cunt, the emptiness causes a little whine.

"What?" He looks at you.

"Nothing," you mumble, "I just want you inside me."

He laughs. "God, you're needy," he teases, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. "Don't worry, baby, you'll get it soon."

He goes to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Just as he's about to tear it open, he glances down at you, extending the small square. "Want to do it?"

You nod, pushing yourself upright and taking it from his hands. You rip it open, as Rafe removes his boxers, and his cock springs free, red and swollen with a bit of precum. You smile, glancing up at him with your doe eyes. "Is that because of me?"

"Shut up."

You giggle, rolling the latex over his length, taking your time to admire his size. He's big and perfect, the tip of his cock dripping with his precum that you almost wish you could take him inside your mouth instead. However, despite the recent orgasm, your body wants him inside.

"Lay back." He commands thickly. "Spread your legs."

You do as he says, throbbing from the control he has in the room. Rafe sinks his knees into his mattress, approaching you as he pushes your thighs apart and lines his tip against your entrance, causing your breath to shorten.

"Come on, wildflower, breathe with me."

You nod shakily, closing your eyes for a moment to inhale a calming breath before he plunges deep inside you, filling you to the hilt. A gasp escapes you, his girth stretching you out, but it soon fades into a pleasure unlike any others.

"God, you feel good," he mumbles, lowering himself to your mouth and capturing your lips into a hot kiss. Your hand drapes over his shoulders as he begins to thrust inside of you. "Too fucking good."

You feel perfect. All of this is too perfect. The way you press against him, your fingernails scraping his back, the way your pussy grips him with the ideal amount of pressure, and the way your lips sync with his as if you were made for him.

The air fills with your whimpers and mewls, increasing in volume with each thrusts that enters and leaves you, while Rafe is heaving in breathy grunts and moans. He pushes your legs back, forcing the new position to grant him deeper access into your sweet cunt.

He's hitting new spots you didn't know were possible. It's making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cries coming out with desperate pleas, that he had to cover your mouth with his to swallow all the noises.

When you feel yourself reaching a familiar high, the buzz tingling between your legs, you grip his shoulders tight. Rafe feels your walls fluttering around him, and he quickened his pace, sweat breaking across his forehead.

Your breath is heavy, your heart is racing, and as you ascend into your peak, you moan out Rafe's name with such euphoric satisfaction, he comes with you, emptying into the condom.

When he finishes, he falls into the space next to you. His breathing is rough, trying to catch his own breath, that you can't help but turn your gaze to his, examining him under this new light.

Rafe catches you staring, the way your eyes lift to his hairline, and he reassures with a soft brush against your jaw. "It'll grow back, I promise."

"it's not that." You declare, dropping your gaze down to his face. You still can't believe the embarrassment you still feel by how attractive he is. "I like it."

"You do?"

"Why else would I hide from you?"

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. His hand drops to your waist, pulling you closer to him until you're skin-to-skin, your breasts pressing against his chest.

"You couldn't tell me the whole time?" He mumbles, kissing your nose. You giggle.

"If I did, we wouldn't be here having sex."

He takes a moment to consider your words, before finding some merit in them. "Fair." He declares, just as his eyes find yours again. This time, he can look at you, knowing you're his. "I guess next time I get a new haircut, I can propose, huh?"

Your heart drops. Your smile fades from surprise. "What?"

He laughs at your expression. "You think I'm letting you go after this? It's either us or nothing."

Maybe reality isn’t too bad. 

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader #obx smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx #rafe cameron x female reader #outer banks #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff

[sea-of-dust]

Aventurine,Acheron,Boothill x GN! Reader

When your lovers away for a long time, they come back more needy than usual

N: brain EXPLOSION RAAAAA (I'm going insane) also shout out to @lynettess for bringing the cowboy hat thing into play

Warnings: Might be ooc (made before boothills relase, havent finished pelecony), suggestive scenes, swearing, bullet munchin

He's already a very loving partner also pretty clingy you can't sit next to him without him sitting so close he can feel you breathe, of course if you tell him to back off he would but he'll act hurt about it

You would play games with him, and he'd nearly always try to get a prize if he wins. "My my, if we were to play this going forward, how about a small kiss if I win?" And then you'd beat him 5-3, you can't tell if it's on purpose

He'd show you off alot, so you'd hide behind him. "Stelle meet my future spouse" he presents what he presumes is where your standing only for there to just be air. "The couch?" "What?" His head wips to see nothing, his tone turning somber "Where did they go" he begins to turn around looking around the room with you staying behind him, putting your finger up to ur lips. "They were just here. I'll introduce you guys next time" he sighs, letting Stelle walk out.

He likes to take lots of pictures with you, holding you while you turn away from the camrea. He'd never post them online, but you'd catch him looking at them and chuckling softly to himself

You'd try to show him a really simple magic trick, and then he'd just do it way better. "Watch this" you spread out cards. "Pick a card, any card" he narrows his eyes, smirking when he shows you the card he picked. "Alright" you move it back in the deck move 5 cards, and reveal his "is this your card?" You show it off. "Wow!" He claps in amazement. " I should show you one of my own" he takes the deck and shuffles, telling you to pick a card, and without hesitation, flips over your card along with that the kings of the deck. "Woah" he'd make it his mission to impress you with magic tricks

He's very into the thought of you praising him for something, you catch him daydreaming it's most likely of you holding his hands, a nearly fully red face. "You're so good at this, you're amazing honey" the wide smirk on his face seals the fact he's thinking of your praise. When you do praise him, you could tell he's internally freaking out "You look great today" you smile at him "and what about the other days?" "You just look especially pretty today" You wrap your arms around his neck, giggling at his remarks, "you should pinch me" "I can assure you, you aren't dreaming"

He'd hit you with trick questions. Not straight-fowardly asking them instead leading into them. "You haven't been to the Grand Theater, have you? I heard the family might appear" "sounds pleasant, I guess someone will post a video of them appearing or something" "they don't interest you?" "Not really" if he did actually ask you a trick question straight up, you knew he'd be joking. "Hey, would you love me if I was a worm?" You look at him up and down "did you get possessed?" "Maybe I have, the only way to get rid of the ghost is to answer!" "Of course I would. I'd have to find a way to preserve your clothing tho" "they would shrink with me"

He'd be interested in an activity you were doing, the type to try and play word games with you. "It's enjoy" "there's no j" "seriously?". Trying to join in mundane tasks folding laundry? You should let him help it'll go by faster. Cleaning your fan? Glad you got it open. Let's clean the blades together! "It feels colder now" he lays next to it, letting the cool air smack his face. "It's probably gonna get dirty in a months time" you sigh watching him enjoy the air with closed eyes, you watch his hair fly in the wind his calm smile. "I should do this more often with you" muttering our without a care "you should"

He can't be away from you for too long it'll show, eye bags rubbing said eyes, sighing so much people start counting. He'd start texting you during work. "Get back to work" "you sound like Mr krabs" "next I'll start making the sound when he walks" his co workers would catch him staring at his phone and giggling to himself over you. Him comming home you know he's making it a romance scene. Roses in hand he opens the door, watching your eyes light up not even looking at the flowers he had gotten, embracing him as soon as you saw him. "I should start hiding your keys" "that would be nice"

He wouldn't waste any time as soon as that doors closed he's not letting you go. He wants to feel your touch, your stares, the way your voice makes his heart skip a beat. He's earned it after working this hard. Your teasing over the phone didn't make it any better either. "You're such a jerk teasing me over the phone" he smiles to himself kissing your cheeks as you move your face, avoiding his lips. "And even now" he holds your hands his grip firm, finally landing a kiss on your lips. He makes it last long, you might evade again. It was sloppy to say the least, like he was trying to get every bit of energy out of you, only pulling anyway to catch a breath before going in for a few more. "I should start bringing you along"

She blames you for getting lost sometimes, you can't be so...thought provoking... is what she says its her way of saying, "I think about you so much It makes my sense of direction worse"

She's quite awkward when it comes to showing affection, but she does have ways to show it. She'd hold your pinky while walking in public, leaning on you. She's not going to be very touchy, and these momments usually don't last long, but watching her slowly get flustered just makes it better

She'd sometimes believe things you've told her. "I remmber seeing a cat fly" "im sure it was a dream" "did you know you could make an egg explode?" "How?" "Really bad cooking" she'd fall for the water cup broom on the ceiling thing. Not that you've been evil enough to try it on her and risk it all

You'd get scared when she'd just randomly know what you're talking about. "God its been like a trillion years how are these songs still existing" "I know right I feel like a monsters a relic crazy to think" you furrow your eyebrows. "Did you just hear it recently?" "Yea it's really good" "Uh huh" the most terrifying thing about her is the fact that she's into 2000s emo music and not her memmories

Taking her out to Golden hour she's pretty shit at the games. "What do I do?" "You gotta pull the leaver and see if it lands on what you want" "ok" she pulls it nearly shattering the poor leaver as it spins, landing the max prize. "Goodjob" you clap for her as she goes for the prize, giving it to you. "You won it it's yours" "after spending your credits" scoffing she pulls you to another she wanted to try. Your room service is not gonna be happy seeing a wave full of prizes

Thoughts of trying to keep you from leaving have crossed her mind. Eating your keys, clinging onto you, wagging her finger at you, leaving with you. Scary guard dog privileges.

She'd try to sneak up to you and land a peck on the cheek only for you to turn and kiss her on the lips. "Caught you" you remark in a teasing tone. "I'll catch you off guard" you scoff "I can't wait to see your attempts"

She'd blush over face touching. Poking her nose after staring at her in silence, moving food from her cheek, kissing her cheek. It was strange watching her breath begin to heavy while keeping eye contact. "I've never seen you act like this before" she covers her mouth looking away, you hold her other hand up to your mouth and kiss it watching her get even more flustered

She would go off by herself for a few days. Texting you pictures of things that she thought you'd be interested in and engaging in small talk. There wouldn't be many words exchanged, but when she came back, you wouldn't even know, she gave you a time frame and then would appear 3 days before expected. Opening the door and meeting her eyes, she'd enter silently. "Do you want me to make you something?" "The tea you bought last time was great" you smile going to the kitchen

She'd sit there quietly, fiddling with her hand, her head fuzzy filled with thoughts. Finally getting up, she leans onto you. "You might get burned" her head leans into your neck. "Like I care" kissing your neck, her hands wander near your waist, gripping your clothes. "I missed you" speaking up letting her finally get a peck on the lips, a few more until she finally says "I missed you more" she wouldn't stop kissing you until saliva connects your mouths. Watching her realize what she had just done. Her eyes look to your lips and neck, embracing you from behind she lays her head on your shoulder. "It'll be a while, stay like that as long as you want"

"We should make out" "what?!" Keep doing that to him and you've got a dead cowboy on the street of pelecony. The most deadpan voice and just you suggesting things is gonna make the poor guy evaporate.

He gets flustered oddly easily yet he flirts with you relentlessly. "I seem to have lost myself in your eyes" you scoff, moving his hair from his eye behind his ear "you should have paid closer attention you would have seen my spouse" "what now?" It would take him too long to get it, and when he does, he's practically blowing steam out of every circuit.

He'd get a bit upset if you refused to borrow his hat. Does it smell? Is it itchy? Do you not love him?! Why do you look at it like that. "Just to be sure, does this of any lice?" "." "Can cyborgs get lice" "no" he says it super quickly yet doesn't actually know as you kept staring holes into that poor hat, when you finally wore it he felt like he could breathe. He felt bald, but you looked charming with it on. He's gonna have to let you keep that one he'll buy a new one

Letting you wear his hat, he wondered if you knew the meaning of that gesture. "Y/n" "yes?" "I've given you my hat" "yea?" He tries to hold back a frown. "I already know you want to see me alot Boothill" His face turns a bright pink. "Maybe I should give it back even though I'm not a cowboy i dont mind seeing you more often" he covers his face with his hands turning away from you with tightly closed eyes

He'd ask you to help him on the most specific cyborg problem. "Can you help me with this" he shows you his hand "with what?" "One of the cords are taken off" "I'm gonna call a mechanic" "man" he'd look at you as if betrayed. "How could you" written all over his face.

He'd drag you to karoke with him, and then judge you like the average chorus teacher. "You're pitch isn't right, go higher for it" "alright og diva" "WELCOME TO MY WOOOOORLLLLDDD" his voice cracks,atleast he's having fun you mumble along with him.

The first time you witnessed him causally eat bullets, you were disgusted. "What?" "I mean, do they taste good?" "I guess?" You still do judge him so he faces away from you when he does. Opponents would tease him for this only to have the same reaction. "Turning away?! You must doubt-" munch munch "ew bro wtf?"

You shouldn't let him drift off on a couch, hed wake up like he's seen the future, when he dreamed about you. "Wake up~" "y/n.." "what took you so long I got bored" you pout, pulling his hat down to his eyes. He chuckles, pulling it back up letting you get a peck in. "You shouldn't have left me alone for so long" you pout, blowing his ear. He's pink, too flustered to even wrap his arms around you. Then he wakes up and looks at you, the softness of your gaze makes him weak

He's dazed, in another world when he has to leave for a long time. Why? You're probably making mug cakes without him! He can't be gone for more than a week without going into a bathroom and sitting on a toilet, just regretting a few life decisions. So when get gets back and sees you just about to start giving into your mug cake related intrusive thoughts he nearly cried, causually wrapping his arms around your waist "well well if it isn't my lovely spouse" "Boothill" the way you speak, the look in your eyes when you see him, the softness of your face, the calm in your expressions. "You there?" you knock on his chest interrupted by a kiss on the forehead, his hands taking up yours. "I missed you" you manage to mutter out as he continues to kiss you all over. "You have no idea how much I've missed you" he barely gave you enough time to breath between eatch kiss, desperate for more. The kisses begin to get more sloppy, his grip on your hands tighter.

"You keep haunting my dreams" he mutters, finally pulling away. "Wonder what I did in them" teasing him, you kiss his cheek. Noticing his hesitation. "What do you dream of me doing" tilting your head, you lean into his ear, he pulls away. "So that's what you dream of" You move his hair away from his face, seeing his flustered expression. "You're adorable"

#fluff #x reader #gender neutral reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #acheron #acheron x reader #acheron x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #boothill hsr #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill x reader #star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x y/n #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail aventurine #boothill #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #hsr acheron #hsr boothill

[kingkunigami]

— Kunigami Rensuke

Masterlist.

Keeping every other player on their toes was the true goal. Reminding them that he deserved his place— that he was meant to be here. But Kunigami wouldn’t deny that obtaining a prize that every other man on the field coveted was a good enough reward. He really was the wildcard, in every sense of the word.

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, spit, Kunigami’s got an oral fixation, blow jobs, no prep, unprotected sex, light choking, squirting, creampie.

Pairing: Kunigami Rensuke x f!reader.

Word Count: 2.8k.

If there was ever a man who didn’t appear to want the prize he’d rightfully won, it would be Kunigami Rensuke. Lingering in the doorway as you felt the cool chill seep into the room from behind him, prickling against your form as goosebumps began to appear against your forearms. The sheer lingerie doing little to hide your exposed skin as you shuffled on your knees against the soft sheets, your nipples hardening against pretty lace as you watched his tongue slip out to wet his lips.

It was as though this prize wasn’t good enough, that he was still searching for more. Every trophy and accolade he rightfully stole from every other player put on the field would never matter until his name was positioned at number one.

Keeping every other player on their toes was the true goal. Reminding them that he deserved his place— that he was meant to be here. But Kunigami wouldn’t deny that obtaining a prize that every other man on the field coveted was a good enough reward for now, stealing a last minute shot at goal instead of passing to Chigiri to land the ball in the top left corner— barely an inch from the post. A chance that had paid off well now that he was standing where the other twenty-one men on the field wished they could be.

No one would deny that he’d been through a lot to get this far— probably far more than most. A man that had tasted the disgusting bile of failure rise in his throat, the defeat one he promised himself he would never feel again. Arguably working far harder than his teammates to reclaim his position at the top, biting at the ankles of his competitors as he allowed natural selection to take place.

And Kunigami couldn’t lie, it felt good to be victorious. So used to the pack mentality of victory, succeeding at the hands of others. But this one? It was his. You were his. And he would return to the rest of his team with a story to prove it.

He took four long strides to meet you at the foot of the bed, like a lion stalking its prey as he towered over you. His hand was gentle when he cupped your cheek, leaning into his touch as you grasped onto the warmth of it. Feeling a rush of blood pump through your veins when you looked up to meet his burning gaze, enough to scorch your skin as you felt it set fire to you all the way down to your core.

“They were right,” He murmurs, “You are really pretty.”

Your heart jumped at his words, thinking about what sort of things the footballers said about you. Picturing them crowded around in their changing room at half-time, doused in dirt and sweat as they spilled their pure depravity. Talking about every filthy thought they had about you, or the lewd opinions of those who’d had a taste. Your clit pulsing in response as you swallowed thickly, wondering what Kunigami’s role had been in the conversation.

“So,” He hummed, tracing the calloused pad of his thumb over your glossy lips, the stickiness tacking you to him, “What can I do to you?”

“Anything.”

“Shit,” A groan rumbled from deep in his chest, his eyes fluttering as he felt his cock pulse beneath his shorts, “Anything?”

“Yeah—” Kunigami pushed his thumb past your lips as soon as he felt you part them to speak, pressing down on the pad of your tongue as your lips closed around it. Staring up at him obediently through thick lashes as you hollowed your cheeks, causing a deep blazing heat to burn in his pelvis.

“Fuck,” He growled, pumping his thumb slowly as his palm caged your jaw. Tilting your head as he used his strong grip you open your mouth, pursing his lips as he spat into your open mouth, “Hold it.”

You felt the moisture collect at the back of your throat from the way your head was tilted, your tongue wobbles as he draws back to dip his thumbs into the hem of his shorts. Pulling them down enough to free his heady cock, the tip swollen and bruised deep crimson as a a pearlescent glob of pre beads at the tip. You whimpered at the debauched sight, his spit gargling at the back of your throat as you squeezed your thighs together in a feeble attempt to alleviate the ache throbbing between them.

“Fu-uck,” Kunigami groaned as he felt the warmth of your mouth engulf him when he guided his cock inside you, deliberately smearing his pre against your pouty lips as he watched you begin to bob your head obediently.

The sordid stories he’d heard in the showers after practise were nothing compared to the sight of you in front of him like this now. His cock disappearing inside your wet mouth as his hips stilled to watch the way you leaned forward to try and take more of him.

“Cute,” He hummed when the confidence grew inside you as you tried to take a little too much of him, feeling his swollen tip hit the back of your throat as you pulled back with a gag. Spluttering as spit began to drool down your chin, landing on your chest as you regained your breath. Kunigami couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward to tug at the straps of your bra, tugging them along your shoulders as he pulled the cups down enough to free your round tits.

He sucked a hiss through gritted teeth when you tried again, your spit drying against his length as you engulfed him in warmth once more. His slender fingers reached down to toy with your stiffened peaks as he tugged one between his thumb and forefinger, “You like that?”

You tried to speak around him, slurring your words as he smirked in satisfaction. Pulling your nipple away from your body to let it go, your breast bouncing back into place in favour of him reaching his palm around the back of your neck. Cradling your head at the base of your skull as he begun to thrust his hips forward into your mouth, deliberately trying to press his leaking tip against the back of your mouth with each forward motion. Drawing more debauched noises from your throat, as more spit pooled down onto your bare breasts.

“You’re such a mess,” He groaned, his hand tight at the back of your head as he held you down on his length. Watching as pearly tears begun to clump in your lashes as they blurred your vision, gagging as his thick tip pressed against your throat. Cutting off your oxygen supply as he continued to hold you firm and steady, jaw locked with intent as he pushed you further. Your nose buried in the messy nest of hair at the base of his cock as you took in every inch of him; Cutting off any chance of breathing, thick tears now streaming down the apples of your cheeks as your hands came up to claw at his muscular thighs. Leaving dark, crimson lines against the skin as you clawed at him for relief.

“That’s it, you got it—” The lack of oxygen how had your eyes rolling back into your skull as Kunigami finally took pity on you, easing his grip with a sharp hiss as you marked him, “Good girl.”

Glistening strings of spit and pre snapped off between your bodies, sticking to your chin as you looked at the deep gashes you’d left against his skin. Low enough on his thighs to be seen when he was wearing his shorts out on the pitch, and that’s exactly what Kunigami wanted— his teammates would probably think him far too much of a prude to do anything with you, but he’d show them. A cocky, knowing smirk on his lips when he prepared in the locker room before practise.

You squealed when he bent down to curl his palms around your thighs. His heavy cock glistening with your spit as it bobbed from the sudden motion, pulling your legs out from beneath you as your back met the satin sheets. Pulling you to the edge of the bed as though you weighed nothing until your ass was practically hanging off the edge of it. Thighs either side of his muscular frame as he was gifted the perfect view between your thighs, noticing the dark stain on the fabric as he brushed his knuckles against it. Smirking when your sensitive body jolted upon contact.

“So you said I can do anything,” Kunigami mused, pressing his thumb down against your clothed clit, “That mean I can fuck this pussy raw?”

“Yes,” You gasped, shamelessly spreading your legs wider to give him more access as he began to trace his fingers along the apex of your thighs, dangerously close to the hem of your panties.

The position he had you in left you nowhere to plant your feet, almost uncomfortable as you fought to hold your legs in the air, pressing your legs against his hips as Kunigami pulled your panties to the side to reveal your lustrous cunt to his eager gaze.

“Shit,” He shook his head, darkened eyes hidden behind his messy mop of ginger hair, “Is there anything I can’t do?”

“No,” You answered truthfully. So desperate for some kind of relief you truly would’ve allowed him to do anything to you in this moment, to use your body in any sick and twisted way he deemed fit.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else,” Kunigami snarled, roughly pushing your thighs back towards your chest as he curled his tall body over you. His rigid cock laid flat along the length of your creamy slit as you felt his weighty balls press against the curve of your ass, “And you’re gonna take it.”

The thick veins that forked along the length of him grazed your clit as he smoothed himself in your slick, the swollen tip of his cock catching against your tight ill-prepped hole as he pressed two fingers inside you crudely. A debauched squelch sounding around the room from how wet you are, as he began to scissor them roughly in a feeble attempt at prepping you for the sheer length of him.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of him breaching your tight heat, stealing the wind from your lungs as the length to his cock immediately had him spearing your insides. What he made up for in girth, he compensated for when his swollen tip nudged your cervix.

“Oh, fuck.”

With his feet still poised on the ground, Kunigami hovered over you and began to fuck into you hard and precise. Determined to have you remembering him over all of his competition— Wanting to be your number one.

You felt the weight behind his thrusts as his full balls slapped against your ass with each forward motion, echoing in your ears but drowned out by the sultry moans that escaped past your parted lips. His darkened eyes almost black as they stare down at you with such scrutiny that you can’t match his gaze, letting your head lull to the side as he keeps himself folded over you. Your tits bouncing with the ferocity of his thrusts.

No longer the prized golden boy you’d once seen at the start of the program, now a tainted man with the weight of the world on his shoulders as he let every ounce of emotion pour out into his pace.

Kunigami pressed his palm flat against your sternum before sliding along your clavicle, weaving his fingers around the column of your neck as you felt the tips of his fingers press into your jaw. Turning your head back to face him as you met his gaze, clenching around him in response as his palm began to tighten around your windpipe.

The head of his cock kissed your cervix with each forward motion, and he was so deep inside you were certain you could feel him in your lungs. The constricting of air only increased the sensation as your walls pulsed around him, squeezing his length as you began to feel the telltale signs of your release. Far too pent up to try and fight it as you lay helpless beneath him, feeble attempts at his name spilling from between your parted lips.

“They didn’t fuck you like this, did they?” Kunigami was eager to prove himself to you. Hungry and desperate for this sick source of validation that would hold him above all the others, to place him at number one, “They didn’t make you feel as good as me?”

And you couldn’t answer even if you’d wanted to. The pleasure building inside you made it difficult to think of anything other than the way he managed to keep you dangling on the edge of your release. Desperate for something that would have you tumbling over the edge, to have you coming undone for him.

Sacrificing his grip around your neck in favour of pressing a palm flat against your pelvis, pulling back the hood of your clit as his calloused thumb pressed messy circles against it. The weight of him enough to increase the pressure to breaking point as you began to writhe beneath him, trying to ignore the dull throb from your bladder as you fought back the relief. Your pliant walls tightening around him in response as he sneered down at you through bared teeth.

“I can’t, I’m gonna pee!” You flushed, wide panicked eyes staring up at him.

“Don’t fight it, just let go.” He pressed down harder, strumming your puffy clit as your toes began to curl. Crying out his name as you felt a warm, wet stream of squirt begin to gush against his pelvis. His hand quick to intercept it and have it flying in all directions. Soaking his palm and the sheets beneath you as he grinned in satisfaction.

“That’s it—” He groaned, ignoring your pleas for him to give you a moments respite, “Just like that.”

You weren’t sure you had anything left to give as your climax hit you like a freight train, trembling around him as Kunigami still managed to coax more streams out of your willing body. Almost as wet as the tears that streaked down your temples from overstimulation as your body trembled beneath him.

“Bet no one else has made you do that, hm?” He groaned, the crude squelch echoed in your ears as the heat boiled inside you.

Kunigami pressed his hands against the back of your thighs as he resumed his frantic pace, the muscles in his body constricting as he used you for his own release. Working himself towards his climax as he leaned his weight over you to smash his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss that was all tongue and teeth, feeling you clench around him at the sensation as he found his release. Groaning against your lips as his warm breath fanned your skin and he spilled his release into your velvety walls. His hips still rutting as he fucked his cum deep inside you, reluctantly pulling away when he had nothing left to give.

He kept his grip on your thighs when he pulled out of your spent cunt, watching your fluttering hole slowly start to push his spend out in thick white globs as it drooled down your slit towards your asshole. He wished he’d brought a phone in to document the scene, a filthy snapshot to share in the lockerroom the next day to prove his worth. His fingers quick to collect his spunk as he scooped it up with his fingers to push it back inside you, cherishing the final tremors of you around him as he pulled your panties back in place. Giving a final pat to the crotch as he pulled away from you, staring down at you with a shy smile.

It was like he was a different man now, smooth hands stroking along your aching thighs as he pressed a kiss to your knee.

“I— uh, can I get you anything?” He mumbled shyly, the powerful intense man gone as he finally revealed the soft glow in his auburn eyes.

“You don’t have to,” You smiled, letting your fingers run through his hair as your nails grazed his scalp. Letting his cheek rest against your inner thigh as he stared up at you.

“Well— do you want to cuddle?” He seemed nervous to even ask.

“Isn’t that a waste of your time?” You whispered, knowing the real reason for why each man was really here.

“It would never be a waste of time,” Kunigami moved to hover above you, his sticky cock pressed against your inner thigh, “And besides, I’ll be back again tomorrow.”

#Kunigami x reader #kunigami smut #rensuke kunigami smut #rensuke kunigami x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Temptation and Need

Summary: Can Y/N tempt Dean into what he needs?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), face-sitting, cum shot, overstimulation, big age gap (21 and 43), dirty talk, dub-con (sort of - the reader not taking no for an answer), masturbation, voyeurism (very brief), use of a vibrator, spanking, (brief), pussy slapping (brief).

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 3,895

A/N: A million years ago (okay, last December) I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap with dean winchester where the female!reader is like in her 20s and dean's is his 40s :) just some rough smut with like hair pulling where dean asks for her to sit on his face or something like that (if you're comfortable with it) and just dirty talks cause I absolutely love them haha :) I really love your writing btw!!!! thanks a lot <3

It took me about four and a half months to get to this, but it's finally here! Thank you so much for this request, hope you're happy with it Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Y/N had known it would be good - no - amazing. Since the first time she’d laid eyes on Dean Winchester six months earlier, she’d wanted to feel him beneath her, above her, behind her, inside her. She’d wanted him any and every way she could have him.

She simply needed him with the heat of a raging fire that never cooled.

So she’d imagined this moment for more than a hundred nights, and she’d known it would be incredible. But her imagination had been woefully inadequate.

She’d been attempting to seduce Dean the entire time she’d known him. She knew that he knew how much she wanted him, but he’d been reluctant. Every time she sidled up close to him, he’d moved away. Any time she put her hands on him, his heart kicked up so she could feel it pound, and if she got close enough she could feel the hard evidence of his desire press against her. But inevitably he would gently lift her hands off of him and give her a look of warning.

“Stop this, Y/N.” He’d scold with heat pooling quick and fervid in his eyes.

One time he’d given her a look of exasperation and then scowled at her. “I’m too old for you dammit. I could be your father.”

She bit her lip and smiled, full of mischief, as she’d answered. “Well, I’m happy to call you Daddy, if that’s what you want.”

It was true that she was just barely twenty-one and Dean was forty-three, but she didn’t care. In fact, she’d always preferred older men. Men like Dean had experience and stamina, they knew just what to do to pleasure their partner. She’d never slept with anyone less than a decade older than her. Some people might say she had daddy issues (and maybe she did) but she didn’t care what other people thought - she pursued her own pleasure.

Yet in spite of plenty of sexual experiences with older men, despite all her fantasies about Dean, she’d never imagined this level of pleasure.

***

A few hours earlier:

Dean fell onto the library chair, closing his eyes with a groan and dropping his green duffel bag at his feet, just as Y/N walked into the room. 

“You’re back!” She called excitedly as she hurried towards him. “How was the hunt? Where’s Sam?”

Dean grunted as she hopped into his lap. His feet were planted on the ground, and he was slightly slouched in the chair creating the perfect seat for her. His long, muscular thighs rippled beneath her, and as she wiggled against him, she felt the telltale sign of his desire as the bulge at the front of his jeans hardened slightly against her thigh.

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he gave her a scolding look. “The hunt was long and bloody, but fine. It's finished anyway. And Sam is with Eileen."

She ran her finger across the small abrasion on his cheek. "Well, at least you're less beaten up than usual." She said with dubious cheer.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, it was a walk in the park. Now get off my lap so I can go take a shower.”

She nodded and slid off so he could stand, but when he moved off towards the showers, she followed. When he arrived at the shower room door, he turned to look at her standing close behind him. He gave a sideways nod towards the door.

“This is as far as you go, sweetheart.” He said with a raised brow; his gaze turned knowing as she pouted.

She tried for her most convincing tone. “But just think of how much more enjoyable it would be if I came in with you.” She could see in his eyes that he was thinking about exactly that scenario.

But he shook his head. “No. It’s late, you shouldn't have waited up for me. Go to sleep.”

She pouted some more and then sighed before giving him a winsome smile and a wink. “Yes, Daddy.”

Dean scowled at her but she just stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before slowly backing away. 

“Goodnight, Dean. I’m glad you’re home. I sleep so much better when you’re here.” She said truthfully.

He gave her a nod and then walked into the shower room. She heard the lock click and she sighed. Another night with nothing but her fantasies to sustain her. 

She went to her room and got ready for bed, slipping on the AC/DC t-shirt she’d stolen from Dean. He knew she had it, he’d seen her in it, but he’d never demanded it back. 

She crawled into bed and tried to go to sleep. But she was restless, her body aching in a way that wouldn’t end without Dean between her legs. 

Her skin was flushed and the soft wool blanket she was covered with irritated her overheated flesh until she threw it off of her. She brought her hands up to cover her face; she knew she wouldn’t get to sleep unless she did something about the longing that had overtaken her body.

So she rolled over and pulled open the bottom drawer of her bedside table, pulling out the modest-sized vibrator she kept hidden in there for nights just like tonight. Since moving into the bunker a few months ago, nights like tonight happened pretty much every night. 

She leaned back against her pillows and let her mind drift, allowing images to flash into her mind’s eye. Dean’s face, set in lines of intense desire; his hands, strong and hard, warm and rough, moving over her body. 

She slipped her hand past the waistband of her panties, letting her middle finger swirl around her clit, desperately trying to imagine it was Dean’s thick, blunt fingertip pressing against her.

After a few minutes of bringing forth endless hot and decadent images of Dean into her head, she turned on the vibrator and let it press against her clit a moment or two before sliding it through her dripping slick, and pushing it inside. 

As she fucked herself with the toy, she kept Dean’s body in mind - his powerful muscles and solid bulk - imagining him hovering above her. She worked at it for a long time, desperately seeking her release. 

But though she moved the vibrating silicone cock fast and hard in and out of her quivering cunt, she just couldn’t find it. After half an hour of coming so close, but constantly missing the mark, Y/N was whimpering and more frustrated than she could express. 

In desperation, she began to chant quietly, imagining that Dean was there with her and could hear her need. “Dean. Dean. Fuck me, please. Ugh, I need you so badly, I fucking need you.” Her voice crescendoed in a moan of disappointment as her orgasm stayed just beyond her reach. “Dean.” She whined as she bucked her hips desperately.

Suddenly she heard her door squeak open, making her squeal and rip the vibrator out of her body, shock coursing through her, making her heart pound. But then she fell completely silent as she saw Dean standing silhouetted against the hallway light.  

For a moment or two neither of them moved. Finally, Y/N turned off her vibrator and silence reigned. 

Dean finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I heard you. Heard you calling my name.” 

He took a step inside her room; she could see now that he was dressed for sleep, sweats and no shirt - she gasped softly at the incredible view of his wide chest, his shoulder muscles flexing as his hands balled into fists. She could also make out more of his face; it was set in harsh lines, the muscle in his jaw flexing over and over. He licked his lips and her pussy clenched.

“Why were you calling me?” Dean asked, though he had to know the answer as she still gripped the vibrator, and the scent of her dripping sex perfumed the air. 

She could sense that the cord that bound them, that had been pulling them together and apart since the day they met, was about to snap - if she could just say the right words.

She went with the truth.

“I was calling out to you while I fucked myself. I was imagining it was your cock buried deep inside me, imagining your hands on my skin, your lips on my throat.” Dean’s eyes were blazing emeralds with dark onyx pupils spreading across them as she spoke.

“But this thing wasn’t cutting it.” She said, lifting the vibrator and then dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “I need the real thing.”

She pushed her feet into the mattress and opened her knees wide, pushing her hand into her panties once again as she stared at him. “I need you, Dean. Please.”

The cord snapped and Dean charged forward, stopping at the end of her bed and grabbing her ankles to yank her towards him. She gasped as he placed a knee between her legs and rested his weight on his palms as he leaned down to capture her mouth. 

His kiss was hard, desperate, almost violent, as he crushed her lips and stabbed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned at the weight of him pressed against her, lifting her hips slightly so she could press her aching cunt against his thick thigh. She groaned harshly into Dean’s mouth as the pressure caused an even hotter fever to rage across her body.

Dean pulled out of the kiss and stood up, taking hold of her hands to pull her into a sitting position. His chest was rising and falling with deep breaths as he grasped the hem of his stolen t-shirt.

His voice was all growl when he spoke. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about ripping this fucking t-shirt from your body? How many mornings I had to sneak away to the shower to jack off like a fucking horny teenager, after seeing you parading around in it? It barely covers your ass, and every time you’d bend, even a little, I could see a glimpse of your little cotton panties, or sometimes, just your bare ass in a thong.”

His voice was slightly dark, a rebuke in his words. “I knew you were doing it on purpose, of course, knew it was your way of trying to tempt me into fucking ruining you.”

He yanked the t-shirt up over her head as a moan escaped her. Dean groaned too as he got his first look at her. “Fuck me.” He said quietly. 

He looked her in the eye as he reached out and roughly tugged on her puckered nipple. She cried out, her head dropping back, as she arched her chest forward.

“God damn, baby, you really do want it, don’t you? I thought it might be a game you were playing, but you really do want me to ruin this hot little pussy.” He reached his hand down to rub against her soaked panties. “You want that, baby? Huh? Want me to fuck you sensless? Till you can’t walk? Can’t think?”

Y/N nodded disjointedly. “God yes.” She whispered, grabbing his wrist to try and press his fingers harder against her cunt. “Please. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Dean knocked her hand away and grabbed both her wrists tightly as he used his body weight to push her back onto the mattress. He stared at her, making her feel like he could see straight through her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer.

“How much experience do you actually have, Y/N?”

She shook her head to dispel any worries. “Enough. I’m no virgin, and I know what I like.”

His mouth lifted slightly at the corner. “And what do you like, baby?”

“I like it rough and hard, but I’ll take some soft wooing too.” She said with a grin. She shrugged. “Basically, I like you - a lot - and whatever you have in mind, I’m down for.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, but give me a safe word, just in case.” He kissed her softly. “I won’t take any chances with you.”

His concern for her made Y/N’s stomach flip in a pleasant way. She smiled. “K, how about ‘shenanigans’?” 

Dean chuckled. “Perfect.”

His smile faded as he bent his head to kiss her again, slowly this time, thoroughly, as though he didn’t want to leave an inch of her mouth unexplored. When he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air, he slowly kissed a path down her body, between her breasts, stopping to nip and suck on her nipples, pinching one and then the other, before trailing his lips down over her belly.

When he reached the apex of her thighs, he got off the bed to kneel at the foot of it, pulling her panties down over her legs and tossing them aside. He reached forward to wrap his arms around her thighs, spreading her open and pulling her to his mouth. He made a deep, guttural noise as he sank into her cunt, immediately licking and sucking on her sensitive skin, so that she was writhing beneath him almost instantly. She called out his name in desperation as she sank her fingers into his short hair, tugging slightly when he speared her with his tongue.

He pulled away from her and licked his lips free of her juices. “Fuck, yeah baby, say my name again, just like that.” 

He let go of one of her thighs so he could bring his hand between her legs and slap it hard against her pussy. Y/N gasped and then her hips bucked as he did it again.

“You’ve been a naughty girl with this fucking pussy, haven’t you? Pushing this dripping mess against me every chance you got. Fuckin' rubbing on me, and constantly begging me to fuck you.”

He smacked her a third time and Y/N felt her cunt throb with a deep ache. “Fuck, Dean yes! I’ve wanted you to fuck me, wanted you to take me apart for so fucking long. Please, please! Bury yourself so deep in me.”

She screamed in pleasure as he rammed two fingers into her, knuckle deep. As he crooked them forward inside of her, he leaned down to flick his tongue against her clit, making her rear up off the bed. She was so close now. She could feel the tension in her body just on the verge of snapping, when he suddenly pulled back from her, removing his fingers and causing her to wail and plead.

“No, please, Dean. More.” She whimpered pathetically as he stood up.

But then he pushed down his sweats and she caught sight of his cock for the first time. It was long and thick, just as she’d known it would be - everything about Dean screamed, “Big Dick Energy”. It was absolutely beautiful, red-tipped and standing at attention.

She sat up and reached for him, wrapping her hand around the base and sliding her tongue through his slit, licking up the pre-cum that beaded there. Dean stood rigidly, letting her lick at him like a lollipop for a couple minutes more before he pulled her hand away. 

“That’s enough for now, sweetheart.”

She pouted at him, but he just leaned down to grasp her waist, lifting her slightly and tossing her further up the bed. She gasped at the pleasure of being manhandled like a rag doll. He was on his knees as he moved towards her. He grabbed hold of her calves and flipped her over onto her stomach before smacking her ass once and then twice.

She moaned and instinctively lifted her hips, pushing her ass towards him for more. 

He slapped her again, and then ordered her, “Get on your knees, and lean forward to hold on to the headboard.”

She did as he said, grabbing on to the rails of her headboard tightly. He pushed her thighs apart before turning to lay on his back underneath her, pushing her knees open even further with his wide shoulders. 

Y/N was surprised; she’d thought he was getting her into position so he could take her from behind; instead she looked down to see his beautiful face positioned directly below her dripping cunt. 

“Sit on my face, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. Ride me.”

Y/N moaned as he lifted his head slightly so he could lick up through her folds. He dropped his head back to the mattress, though, and his voice was hard when he spoke. 

“Now.”

Despite all of her experience, Y/N had never been ordered to sit on a man’s face, and had never had oral sex this way. At first she was worried that she could hurt him, so she just lightly gyrated her hips against his mouth. But after a minute or so Dean grabbed onto her thighs and spoke angrily.

“I said sit, not float.” His hands pulled her down, forcing her to rest heavily against his face, so that she was truly sitting on it. His nose rubbed against her clit and Y/N couldn’t help grinding down against his mouth. His tongue delved deeply into her cunt, stabbing in and out of her entrance. 

Very soon Y/N was truly fucking herself on his face, using the strength of his jaw and the slide of his lips to create otherworldly sensations. Every once in a while she’d lift herself slightly to check that Dean was okay, but he’d always growl and pull her back down. 

Finally she could feel her orgasm growing inside her, felt the coil low in her stomach tightening almost to the point of pain, but then it burst open and she screamed as she rocked her hips and slammed herself down against Dean’s eager mouth as he slurped up everything she gushed onto him.

Aftershocks of her climax along with Dean’s probing tongue and plump, sucking lips, brought on two more mind-blowing orgasms. It felt as though she’d been edging herself for months and was now finally free to let go; her whole body trembled as Dean finally pushed her back and then rolled her under him.

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked down into Y/N’s face; she knew she must look strung out, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping in. Dean must have seen it too because he shook his head and swiftly shoved three fingers into her cunt making her come alive again with a shout.

“No way, baby. You didn’t spend all these months begging me to fuck you, just to get off with coming a couple times and falling asleep. I want you fucked out completely. I want you stupid and useless beneath me. I want to fuck you so long that you’re just a boneless, lump of cock slut laid out on the bed.”

As he finished speaking he pressed his middle finger against her clit and that pressure, combined with his filthy words, was all it took to have her shouting out her ecstasy once again.

As she was coming down, Dean slammed himself into her, forcing her clenching walls open so her cunt could squeeze him tight as he sheathed himself inside. He pushed her knees wide open, keeping her feet in the air as he jackhammered into her. He slammed so hard and so deep, she knew he’d leave marks. 

And she knew she’d never experienced anything like it, nothing in her past, or even in her fantasies had prepared her for this level of raw passion and need.

She came two more times as he fucked up into her; he changed up his rhythm, going from hard and driving to slow and sensual as the mood suited him. By the time he flipped her onto her stomach Y/N did indeed feel boneless and stupid with pleasure.

“Please Dean.” She begged softly, not actually aware what she was asking for. 

“Come on baby, I didn’t say we were done, don’t give out on me now.” Dean said harshly as he lifted her hips. Her knees rubbed against the sheet, but really she was being held in place with Dean’s strength.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re seeing stars.” He told her before slamming her back onto his cock, drilling even deeper inside than he had before.

Y/N gasped, her pussy was so overly sensitive after being fucked for so long, but she couldn’t escape the intense rush of pleasure that came as Dean slammed his cock against her sweet spot deep inside her.

“Fuck, yes.” She mumbled into the pillow where her face was buried. 

“Yeah, that’s right baby.” Dean rammed into the spot again, making her scream, her throat raw from all her screams of pleasure. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you’ve wanted for months, isn’t it? Spent every minute I’ve known you trying to get us right here, haven’t you?”

He dropped one of her hips so he could spank her right cheek hard, watching it jiggle. “Answer me!” He demanded as he spanked her again before grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head up and back. “Tell me how much you’ve wanted this, little slut. Admit to prancing around this bunker, desperate for me to pin you down and fuck you just like this.”

“Yes!” Y/N gasped as he pounded into her over and over, never losing rhythm or strength. “Yes, fuck, yes.” It was all she could get out. She was truly exhausted, but she still chased the high he was raising within her with every thrust.

He spanked her again and then reached his hand around so that he could push against her throbbing clit. It took only a few circles with his finger, and a few more hammering thrusts before she shattered into a million pieces, seeming to shake and shiver forever.

As she came back to earth slightly, she could feel Dean pulling out of her. “I’m gonna come baby. Can I come on your ass?” She nodded and mumbled out a “yes.”

She heard him grunt obscenely, and despite her liquefied bones, her pussy still clenched at the sound, before she felt his sticky seed spurting across her ass, and lower back. He bucked forward, his thighs slapping against her ass as he shot another load, warm and wet, onto her skin.

Finally he fell to the side, and Y/N let her knees give out beneath her as she fell onto her stomach in complete exhaustion and immediate unconsciousness. She woke some time later to feel Dean wiping her clean with a warm cloth and pressing kisses up her spine.

When he saw her eyes flutter open, he tossed away the cloth and laid down beside her, kissing her nose and her cheek before pressing his mouth gently to hers. 

“You were so fucking perfect, Y/N. Everything I’ve dreamed about night after night.” He shook his head. “No, you were even more perfect than I imagined, so much more.”

She smiled softly and raised an eyebrow. “So you agree? You were an idiot and we should have done this so much sooner?”

He scoffed. “N’ah, it was perfect this way, at this time. But it’s gonna be even more perfect next time.”

Y/N grinned at him and tried not to be too obvious about how thrilled she was that there was going to be a next time. 

“I don’t know.” She teased. “You’re gonna have to try hard to do better than this.”

Dean grinned wickedly. “Challenge accepted.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fic

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? Bono was on the way to meet his wife and kid(s) and was stopped by Nico Rosberg. Nico's like an excited child trying to make a convo with him. And his family just laughed while watching Nico fumbling over his worlds in front of Bono. Nico then spotted them and decided to ask them a few questions. Just something fluff and sweet. Add something if you want to. You decide how it ended. Thanks!! :)))

look at me, still getting fics out

(also my current inbox is about 30, if this ever gets above 50, i'm closing requests :D)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

peter bonnington x wife!reader

Bono was excited for this weekend. His wife had brought their 3 year old twins to their first race and so he was speeding through his meetings and the paddock to find his family.

And was he a little in his head?

Yeah

Did that mean he really had to bump into Nico Rosberg?

Apparently, yeah.

“Oh, hey Bono, um, wonderful to see you the paddock, I mean, you are always in the paddock, but y’know, obviously nice to see you…” Nico was floundering, panicking. He’d obviously seen Bono when he was in the Mercedes paddock, but that was before he had become the force he was today.

“Yeah Nico, lovely to see you too, is there anything you need?” Bono was a little annoyed, he just wanted to find his wife and kids, but he was happy to indulge Nico for a second as he tried to find them.

Y/N was barely 5 metres away, having enjoyed a nice coffee and some lunch with the kids. She felt like a spy sitting there with her sunglasses watching as Nico fumbled for his words, blushing and panicking, as her husband tried to look for a way to find his family, or at least a way out of this conversation. She smiled, before picking up her bag, and pointing out to her children their father, as they sprinted through people’s legs to get there.

“Dad! Dad!”

Bono turned around with a huge smile on his face, as he spotted his kids, opening up his arms, as they hugged him, picking them up.

He almost forgot about Nico as he let teh kids talk about how cool he looked and what they’d done at school that week.

Almost.

As he put the kids down, and placed a soft kiss on his wife’s lips, he noticed Nico crouching down and talking to his kids.

“Hello, what are your names?” Nico asked while crouching down to the 3 year olds level.

“I’m Clara and that’s Carl.” The girl, Clara, seemed a lot more confident that the boy, her brother, Carl, who almost was hiding behind his sister.

“It’s lovely to meet you both, I’m Nico, I’m friends with your dad. Are you gonna follow in his footsteps and be racing drivers? Or follow mum’s footsteps and be ballerinas?” Nico asked

“Oh god, Nico. The endless debate in our household. Clara wants to get into karts, but Pete is against it. And Carl wants to get into ballet and I’m against it. So…” Y/N laughed as she hugged Nico as he stood up. “Lovely to see you though.”

“Lovely to see you as well, come around for a dinner some time, Viv would love to see you.” Nico smiled before crouching down to the kids level “and Clara, if you ever need a kart, and your dad won’t let you, call me, and I’l buy you one, okay?”

“Nico stop corrupting my kids.” Bono laughed, before starting to usher the family back to hospitality. 

“I would never.” Nico feigned shock, before waving goodbye and returning to Sky.

“Now, c’mon, I’m hungry, let’s go get lunch!”

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

#f1 x reader #miloformula123fan #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #peter bonnington x reader #bono x reader #peter bonnington fic #peter bonnington #peter bonnington x female reader #peter bonnington x you #peter bonnington x y/n #bono fic #bono #bono x female reader #bono x you #bono x y/n

[ashen-char]

you like that? 🔞

ship: max fox (better things) x gender neutral reader

warnings: explicit smut, discussion/exploration of kink, exchange of power

summary: max doesn't like being treated too softly. so she tells you just how she wants it

word count: 1900+

notes: ok so i got asks abt max smut like this and this and clung to this idea of it being soft/fluffy. inspired by this ask about power bottom!max and this about bossy max. there's a lot of ideas in these i wanna explore more too!

"You're too sweet to me," Max says. Usually, she tells you this with a smile. The gentle treatment was nice. Different. From dating all the wrong guys that only wanted her for her body, being so obviously liked was a blessing.  But today she says it like she's noticing something.

"Yeah?" You sit up, hand holding hers as you lay on your futon together.

"Yeah."

Laying in the afterglow of a particularly satisfying session of making Max fall apart over and over with your mouth, you're still a bit hazy. 

How am I meant to help it, you think, when she's so adorable?

Lifting her hand up to your lips, you kiss it all over, from the back to the meat of her palm. Max laughs. She stretches her fingers when you reach them, enjoying your simple affection.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" you ask.

"It's not what I'm used to," Max says, giving a small sigh. "That's what's weird."

Searching for the truth in her big brown eyes, you can see how in conflict she is with herself. She likes it, you both know she does. Max enjoys your romantic gestures, swoons at the cheesy compliments and affection even if she swears she's too cool for it. Your girl is softer than she'd like to admit. But there is an honesty in what she's trying to share with you.

"Don't think that I don't appreciate the..." she pauses, trying to find the right words. "The softness. I do." Max affirms this with fixing your hair as it falls over your face, tucking a stray strand behind your ear. "I chose you."

"Sure," you say. Nodding, listening like always.

Max is an angry person. Passionate and rough around the edges, never pulling her punches. You take the time to think things through. You'd never want to hurt someone you love and yet Max thrives in these yelling matches, her whole family getting into fights and being closer in the aftermath. It wouldn't be far fetched to think that she'd like some of that in her romantic relationships too. That she'd feel uncomfortable if it was too easy. If she was the only one bringing that heat.

"I should mix it up sometimes? Be a little rougher?" you ask.

"Yeah. Yeah." She nods quickly, almost too quick, like the very thought of you using a little more force excites her. Then Max bites her lip. A flush goes over her cheeks, suddenly embarrassed with admitting that.

Before you can react, she turns from you, grabbing a pillow and hiding her face in it. "God, I sound so thirsty," Max groans, words muffled.

You chuckle. If anything, she sounds cute. She's ashamed but honestly that's a huge thing you like about her. Max always knows what she wants. "That's not a bad thing, come on," you say, taking the pillow away. "You can tell me anything. You know that."

She pouts up at you. It's like Max wants to melt your heart on purpose! Those full pink lips could get you to do anything. How dare she complain about how well you treat her when she's being so cute that you wouldn't dare do anything else? Leaning in, you kiss that pouty expression away.

"I'm being ridiculous," Max whines.

"No, you're not!" Another kiss, this time to just her bottom lip. When she juts it out like that, you feel the urge to bite it. "I wanna hear!"

"It's like you're not interested." Before you have the chance to refute that, Max puts up her hands. "I know that's stupid! But, like, when we're you know-" she makes some vague hand gestures. You think it's funny that she swears like a sailor but is embarrassed to say the word sex in front of you, even if you've literally been inside of her an hour ago.

"Uh huh," you say, encouraging Max to keep going as she hesitates.

"You're soft. And slow. Until I tell you to give it to me," a flush. Max immediately hates her choice of words. "Until I make you go faster. And it's nice sometimes. But sometimes I feel like I need you to touch me or I'll die. And the fact that you can go slow is like you don't feel the same? You don't need me the same?"

Ah. Probably not the time to kiss her then, even if she's so kissable when she's moody. You don't want Max to feel insecure. You two simply have different ways of showing that you want each other.

"Sure. I get that." You do like touching her, and you think Max already knows that so you don't bother saying it.

Max feels an urgency when it comes to your more physical moments, while you're all about affection even then. You like leading her through the pleasure, giving her more and more. And those preferences have clashed. When you slow things down, something in Max wants to snap at you. She has before, actually. It was hot.

"I just-" Max's jaw clenches. It's hard being so vulnerable. "I hate that I feel like I need to push you to see if you actually want me. I don't want to push you, but sometimes it's like you don't even care."

"Max." You sit up.

You hate that she's beating herself up over this when in reality, the times you've been most excited has been when Max has taken control of the reins. When she's told you to go harder, or faster, or to pull her hair. You hate that you haven't communicated that well and that your girlfriend was left wondering if she was bossy and made you do things.

"Hey, look at me," you say, tilting Max's head up with your finger under her chin. "I like it when you tell me what you want. It's so hot."

"Really?" she asks. There's a hope to her voice, an eagerness now that she knows she wasn't ever pushing you to do something.

Max melts into your touch like she can't help it. She thrives under your assurance and care. It's part of why you're so sweet to her. But sometimes, and now you know it for sure, even a girl as sensitive as Max needs some rough loving. You'll let her tell you when that is.

"You're so sweet that I felt bad asking you to do certain things," she admits. "Every time it'd hurt, I was loving it, but I couldn't say anything because you'd slow down if I told you."

She's right - if you had known that you were hurting her, you probably would've stopped things right in its tracks to check on her. "It's alright if you like that. What gets me off is when you're feeling good," you tell her. "And if that's something that gets you off, I wanna do it. I'd do it all the time."

The thought of hurting Max on purpose doesn't appeal to you, but pleasing her sure does. You could get into it if that's what she needs. And the few times she's asked you to rough her up - to give it to her harder, grip her hips tighter, spank her harder - you've actually liked it.

As you're thinking about that, what you'd be willing to do and not do, Max shifts. She tilts her head back so her throat is exposed, a silent invitation, a gesture of vulnerability. Asking you to get aggressive with her. That invitation breaks its silence when Max says, voice raspy now, "bite."

When she tells you what to do, the mood in the room instantly heats up. No longer are you two expressing your desires for future intimacy, because the intimacy is here and now.

Your hands go to her waist, eyes staying on hers. A quick nip to her exposed pulse point as you test if this is what she meant. You pull Max closer, a moment of hesitance as you silently ask if this is alright, if you're finally fulfilling what she's wanted all along.

"Harder," Max whispers. Her shiver and that breathier tone tell you all you need to know. She wants you to make a mark on her - something to remind herself that she is so so wanted. Of what she has with you - that it's real. "Bite harder."

Max pushes her body into yours when you go in for the next bite. Higher up, more to her throat. You adore the idea that she's letting herself go, finally asking for what she wants and knows that she can get it from you. The pleasure that she's clearly getting from you listening ignites a spark in you, confirming something you always knew.

"That's it, baby," she whispers, a little breathless. You can tell Max is getting wet - she's clenching her legs together to give herself some friction. "You know just what I want, right?" She runs a hand through your hair. "You just want me to tell you."

And you do. You bite your way along her throat, leaving red marks along her delectable flesh where her neck was pale, untouched. Anyone seeing Max would know that you did this. These are your teeth marks on her skin, it's your mouth that's making her shiver and moan. Her hand tightens on your hair, guiding you down now.

Lower, and lower still. You find yourself with your head between her legs, tongue lapping away at Max's most sensitive spots. She cries out demands and praise in equal measure. "Yes, there," one moment and "fuck, don't you dare fucking move," another.

There's no guesswork now, not when Max is being so vocal about her needs. When you've got her pretty little clit between your lips, she tells you to suck so you do. When you're licking along her slit, Max tells you to flatten your tongue so you do. When she's quivering, cumming, soaking your mouth and chin and you think your job's over, she tugs you back to her cunt.

"Tell me you love this," Max breathes out.

"I love this," comes out of your mouth so easily. Not one to give up, your jaw might be aching and your tongue tired, you'll stop when Max tells you to. "I love this pussy. You taste so good, Max."

Hungry. You eat it like you're starving and God does Max dish out commands like she's been power hungry for forever. Both of you seem to like it better like this. Max could tell you to do anything right now.

But you dare to give her one command of your own, as your fingers are shoved deep into her cunt and your tongue flicks against her clit. "Come for me."

She convulses. Your pretty girl melts into you one last time, panting and gripping to your hair for dear life. "Fuck, baby!" Max really is so adorable. When she breaks, her body wracking with ecstasy, it's like you're the one feeling it. 

"Kiss me, please," Max says, less of a command than a beg now.

You surge up from your spot between her legs, smashing your lips against hers. Max can taste herself, you know, and that makes it that much hotter. Her sweet tang is addicting. You'd fuck her with your tongue for eternity and say thank you to her for letting you. 

She bursts into giggles and you can't help but laugh along with her. "I think I could get used to this," Max says. "I should boss you around more often."

"Mm, I'd like that." You lick her wetness off your lips, excited for the next time already.

#mikey madison #better things #max fox #max fox x reader #mikey madison x reader

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

I really liked reading your thoughts on hypmic and gender roles!! I would like to add some things about hypmic & female characters :]

I like the way Otome is meant to have a delicate (?) image, but it doesn't make her weak (I remember when her solo Just do it released and people talked about how before they had this idea that Otome was more like ruler who gives orders to her soldiers in the background, but after the song it was clear that Otome is actually in the front lines, leading her army)

And Ichijiku, who is sometimes cruel, with this strong image, this is framed not as a good thing, but a front she puts up to cope with her suffering (not that it's wrong for a woman to have traits usually associated with masculinity, but it's bad when you are doing it for the sake of looking "stronger", someone is not weaker for being feminine, as it seems to be something she internalized for herself/she doesn't seem to project that into others so it's just an unhealthy coping mechanism that hurts only herself), we can see from the drama tracks that before traumatic events her voice was much more high pitched (her natural one), and now she uses this lower, stronger tone, to not be perceived as weak (which I think kinda parallels Ramuda speaking in a higher pitch when his natural tone is lower). Basically a lot of the times when trying to write strong women, authors will take away their feminity from the idea that "you need to be masculine to be strong", that wouldn't apply to any of our female cast, even to Ichijiku who does put up a front to not be seem as weak, this is not a good thing & she still has hobbies/likes things usually associated with feminity (but as an exemple of masculine women also being treated well, we have Asunaro Bojo, she is a tomboy but that's not bad at all!!! Good for her, and there is also Iris from rhyme anima, that I could say is not particularly fem??? Also good for her and her cool motorbike)

And Honobono, I think it's really interesting that, in a society that demonizes feminity, she uses that on her favor, her feminity being her main weapon. Also I like her existence as a contraposition to Hypmic's main themes about bonds/relying on others, the power of words to resolve conflict as an alternative to violence / she wants to break bonds, uses her words as a way to do that, showing how powerful words can be when used for evil

As for them making bad decisions, I agree there were times when it was for the sake of plot moving, I also think some decisions are due to them being flawed characters, just like the rest of the cast is (Otome is impulsive and has a very "now or never" mindset, but so does Dice, Ichijiku blindly follows Otome even on her worst decisions, but that's because of her trauma and it's something she has to work on changing, etc)

And I do think a shifting is happening btw them being antagonistic side characters to them being integrated as part of the main cast in recent times!! That being said I'm very excited for the upcoming stage play focused on the girls only & with 2 new original women, I will love to see what they have ready for them

Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts!

I totally agree with your opinion about Otome. Her "coldness" (like, personality-wise) is a good contrast to Ichijiku's hot temper, but neither are in any way weak or frail. And as you point out with Ichijku, this too seems like her way of pushing away her own feelings in order to process them better. (True gender equality is everyone failing to process emotions in a healthy way? lol)

I also get what you mean about Ichijiku and writing strong female characters. (I'm immediately reminded of this comic. In terms of concept art, Ichijiku could fit right in with them lol.) She's an interesting example of a trope I see a lot. In Japanese, it feels like "cute" (可愛い) and "beautiful" (綺麗) exist as two opposite ends of a spectrum, where the latter is associated with maturity and elegance and the former with youth and innocence. Fictional taller girls or girls with more developed bodies often lament that they're pushed into the "beautiful" role even when they identify more strongly with being "cute." On the flipside, shorter girls sometimes wish that they could be taken more seriously if they were closer to the "beautiful" side of the spectrum. Ichijiku is pretty firmly in the "beautiful" camp but seems to desire "cuteness" (see how she reacts to tea parties with Nemu, who is more stereotypically "cute", and cultivates a hairbow collection). Yet she reacts with embarrassment when anything "cute" is brought up, likely because she recognizes she won't be viewed with as much authority if she presents herself in a "cute" fashion. That ties into what you're talking about with the pitch of her voice and her desire to appear strong. It's funny how there are expected societal roles ("cute"/"beautiful") nested within larger expected societal roles (womanhood). If all the female characters were like Ichijku, I'd be a lot more "eh :/" about Hypmic, but as you say, there's a wide variety of presentations, none of which are presented as "weaker" or more invalid. Like Nemu--she's definitely a "cute" character but is written to have an enormous amount of emotional strength following her decision to join Chuuouku. This suggests, then, that Ichijiku is incorrect in thinking she can't be strong and "cute." Likewise, the female characters as a whole can be strong and feminine or strong and more masculine-presenting. It'd be fun to see more female characters who lean into the latter (I'm not going to pretend that Hypmic is bursting with canonical masc female characters) but that seems a bit more progressive than Hypmic is willing to go. If it's still at the stage of "femininity != bad"... I'll take what I can get, haha.

I love everything you said about Honobono!

And I also agree that some flawed decisions Otome and Ichijiku make are due to them being ordinary, flawed individuals. Which is a good, humanizing writing choice! When I said that in the original post, I was referring to the sort of decisions that exist purely to set up the main conceit of Hypmic. The "Hmm yes I think I shall spend our man!tax dollars on constructing a huge, expensive stadium as a trial run for a future government-sponsored sport. Let's kidnap two children in order to convince one of the trial participants to rap against his friend, which is the most effective way to prevent a coup" kind of decisions. Team Rocket-ass decisions. I'm not knocking this concept as a whole, because goofy villainy and contrived plots can be fun. Even in semi-serious works, there can still be a place for contrived plot nonsense; the audience is capable of suspending disbelief when the silliness is not the main object in focus. But when we're later asked to examine some of Otome's decisions and thought processes in a more realistic and sympathetic light, I have trouble reconciling the two concepts in my head. In my opinion, Otome can either be the shadowy figure behind the Team Rocket desk or a real person with complex thoughts and feelings, but asking her to be both is not a great writing choice.

Finally, I can't wait for the stage plays either. I hope I get a chance to check them out! The Hypstages are always super, super fun.

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

[fatuismooches]

since the new event has a lot of books to collect it got me thinking about how there are a few achievements based off of book collections , it would be so cool if with dottore and playable reader that there were books on readers status like medical records , it could unlock an achivement and maybe even special dialogue for both of them based off of each record like when playable readers condition declined there could be dialogue of dottore being angry from traveler reminding him , but i can imagine playable reader thinking of them as nice keepsakes reminding them of how dottore hasn't and won't give up .

YES. I know it will never happen but I've always wished we could enter Dottore's lab, at least a section of it even if it's just one time. During his (and yours too, being a duo character and all) story quest, Traveler would be able to enter it and one of his offices, ultimately snooping around a bit (it was Paimon's idea, you don't get opportunities like this every day!)

In the beginning, they only find boring scientific and ancient texts, but with a bit of digging (surprisingly, it was simply laid out on his desk) they find a trove of Dottore's records on you - actually, it was only one book, but it was a huge one. The pair can only continue flipping through large portions of the pages, laying their eyes on things that definitely shouldn't be seen by them - words they don't understand, documentation on things from your physical exams to mental state, countless notes on the prototype cures and medicines he's tried to even forms he gave you to fill out, hell there's even pictures of you.

Naturally, they get caught in the middle of the act by Dottore, wholly unimpressed. Of course, he's unwilling to divulge any more information, and Traveler and their floating companion are left with more questions than answers at the end of the quest. They've looked at him from a one-sided point of view, simply put, an evil man who's done terrible things. But once they've witnessed the sheer amount of dedication to you, the way he talks about you, maybe, just maybe... a bit of understanding could be reached.

Although you aren't the fondest of these two prying into your medical history, at the same time they've done you a favor. Dottore doesn't always let you read his notes and records about you. You've suspected it's because he doesn't want you to read about the times your condition was significantly worse than usual or if there are lines where his feelings bleed over too much that he doesn't want you to see. Still, regardless of what he's written, it makes you feel glad to have a husband who cares for you this deeply, and even though there are many times you believe you'll be sick forever, his unfaltering determination is enough to keep you hopeful for now.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #playable reader <3 #ur so real for this anon #there should have been an achievement for reading all of zandik's notes in sumeru #there's the hospital one at least!

[thecooler]

Magnetar

You are a mature student at the University of Ooo. You tell people that you resent the term mature student, because, in your own words, it makes you sound like an “old fart.” People respond by telling you that your whole everything makes you sound like an old fart.

Fandom: Adventure Time

Pairing: Simon/Betty

Additional Tags: POV First Person, POV Second Person, Grief/Mourning, Alternate Universes

Word Count: 3,368

AO3 Mirror

Simon Petrikov

You are a mature student at the University of Ooo. You tell people that you resent the term mature student, because, in your own words, it makes you sound like an “old fart.” People respond by telling you that your whole everything makes you sound like an old fart. Regardless of your linguistic preferences, though, you, Simon Petrikov, are living in a college dorm about thirty years and change after you last expected to be.

It’s just you in the room. Last time you were in dorms, you had this wad of a roommate named David, who left his laundry on your side of the room and ate your ramen packets without asking. You’d often told your fiancée, Betty, about David. She always giggled at the disdainful lilt your voice would take when you said his name— David, like you might say the name of your least favorite grade school teacher, or your weirdest ex. David wasn’t your weirdest ex, though, that was a different guy, though his name was also David, which Betty always had a good laugh over the first time you told her.

Betty is coming over later tonight, after you’re done with classes. You love her very much. You’ve been seeing each other for what feels like forever.

You pull a pair of matched socks out of your drawers and slide them on, then adjust your bow tie. You look in the mirror, and for a moment, you see a flash of blue. You blink, and find it’s just yourself staring back. Your hair’s started to grey. Betty thinks it looks good on you.

Betty Grof

The school library has always been something of a safe haven for me. In elementary school, being weird meant that I didn’t keep friends for long, and the librarians were always terribly fond of me. They’d give me little tasks to do, like wiping down tables with a cloth or putting a book or two back if I was good. I relished in these small favors. I’ve always yearned to be useful.

In high school, I managed to make friends, because high school is when people who are ahead of the game realize that being weird and being cool are basically synonyms. And some people still give you grief, but when you have friends, it’s a hell of a lot easier to ignore those people. I didn’t need to spend time in the library, then, to avoid my own loneliness. But I returned anyway, because I found the scent of books and the old, dusty carpet in my hometown’s old library to be a comfort. When I turned sixteen, the director of the library took pity on me and gave me a job. By the time I made my way to University, I was already well on my way to building myself a decent resume.

I don’t remember how I got this particular gig, and it doesn’t really matter.

All that matters is that in this life, this is the library where I met Simon Petrikov.

He’s inevitable, a cosmic force that I feel myself drawn to in every universe. He was a bit older, when I met him here, in his first semester. He was looking for an old volume from Kant. He’s always stubborn— he paced around for a good hour before he asked me for help. When he did, I looked at him and smiled and said, “Are you saying you kant find it?” and he’d laughed way more than the joke called for. He always laughs like that at my jokes, like he thinks I’m the most brilliant person to ever walk the earth. Like he’s never once looked in a mirror.

Simon Petrikov

Your first class is at eight am and all the way across campus. You often joke about how it’s fine, because you could use the cardio and the regular sleep schedule. But you always end up leaving ten minutes late if no one’s pushing you out the door, and you don’t think you’ve ever once jogged willingly in your life. You walk at a regular pace across campus, and you’ll get there when you get there. You don’t usually miss much in the first five minutes anyway, though you don’t love the glare your professor shoots you when you creak open the old, heavy wood door.

You sit in your usual spot and listen to the lecture, but it all sort of starts to blend together. You’re suddenly quite tired, and you can feel your eyelids drooping when shuffling starts around you. With a start, you realize it’s time to head to your next class. You blink and stand up suddenly, stumbling when vertigo gets the better of you. A young man you don’t recognize rests a steadying hand on your shoulder and says, “Come on, Simon, I’ve got you,” and his blue eyes look rather sad.

He’s young, you think, too young to be here, until he’s not. You blink, and he has a beard and a chest tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his tank top. You swear that wasn’t there before. “Simon?” he says again, his brow furrowing. You don’t remember telling him your name.

You look at this young man, and you find yourself at a loss for words. You recognize in his gaze a familiar sense of prolonged grief. You’ve never met him, but somehow you think you’ve known him your whole life, or at least his.

“Are you okay, man?”

You nod, slowly, and it doesn’t seem to convince him. “Betty’s coming over tonight,” you say, “I must have  gotten distracted thinking about it.”

Betty Grof

Once, when we were a lot younger, and before the crown changed everything, Simon and I went hiking together. Usually, when we went on excursions, they were meticulously planned. He had every step of our journey plotted out on a spreadsheet or a numbered list, the creation of which was usually his favorite part of the whole thing. Which wasn’t to say he disliked the excursion— more so that he really liked making lists and spreadsheets.

But we’d gone without this time. I worried it was because I teased him about it, even though he knew it was good-natured, or at least I’m pretty sure he knew. I didn’t think he was actually upset, because Simon always wore his feelings on his sleeve, and when he was worried, he got this crease between his eyebrows. On such occasions, I’d kiss his cheeks until he relented and forgave me, for which I was declared a menace to society. So I don’t know exactly why he decided to forgo the spreadsheet this time, but he refused to make one, even when I tried to nudge him to in the hours before we left.

So we went off into the bush on the outskirts of Seattle, near a farm that some friend of Simon’s owned. We had two backpacks full of trail mix and a sleeping bag, but no tent, because Simon said that he’d been orienteering since he was old enough to walk, and he’d get us out of the bush before we needed to sleep.

Naturally, then, we did not make it out of the forest in time. Instead, we found a nice, open clearing, and we lay down on the grass together and looked at the stars. Simon was fidgeting with his shirt sleeves.

I said, “It’s really okay, Simon. You know I don’t mind a little roughin’ it,” and I waggled my eyebrows. It wasn’t really an innuendo, but I’d never been one to miss an opportunity for a double-entente, no matter how half-baked. I meant it, too. Laying under the stars next to the Simon Petrikov was basically a dream, even after five years of dating. I think it’d been five years. Time is different here, it’s hard to tell. Hard to remember how time moves for mortals.

He turned on his side and he looked at me. Back then, before Evergreen’s crown took root in his mind, his eyes were a deep, thoughtful brown. He said, “You would really tell me when I’ve got a bad idea?”

I turned over and smiled, “Would it stop you if I did?”

And he’d closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and breathed, “No.”

Above, the cosmos shone down, ambivalent to us. It would be hundreds of years yet until we tried to make it ours, and in doing so, fell apart.

Simon Petrikov

You walk to your next class with the unfamiliar old friend. He says he shares the class with you, though you don’t think he seems like the Anthropology type. He pats you on the shoulder and laughs at pretty much everything you say, even when you aren’t making a joke. This feels to you like condescension, but you can’t detect anything other than earnestness in the boy’s face. He looks to be in his early-to-mid twenties, but his eyes are much older.

Your daughter, Marceline, joins you. She has a guitar strapped to her back and you know from experience she isn’t above busting it out in class if she thinks it’ll make the situation funny. Her girlfriend, Bonnie, walks beside her. These are two more people you’ve known for impossibly long, and yet you struggle to pin down any specific memories associated with them. It’s as though your mind is a blank slate, with information slowly being accumulated atop it. Marceline doesn’t look like you, and you don’t think she looks like any of your exes, either. You wonder how the two of you met, then, but you know this is not something you can ask.

She looks back across the hall at you, and you abruptly realize that you’ve stopped walking. You’re staring at her, with her hand in Bonnie’s back pocket, and you feel light— happy. But you don’t have the context for these emotions. Your mind feels like an unorganized mess, as though a cosmic being has reached in and shuffled things around, removed some with the intent to put it back, only she forgot. And now nothing makes sense to you, even things that should be second nature.

Marceline’s brow furrows and her lips tug down into a frown. She presses her palm against the small of Bonnie’s back and whispers something to her, before walking back towards Simon while the other girl makes her way towards class. Somewhere along the way, the boy vanished, like as soon as he was out of your line of sight, he ceased to exist. You tense with the realization that the world around you feels more empty than it ought to be.

Marceline places a hand on your shoulder and meets your eyes. In the reflection of her deep brown irises, you see yourself with ragged white hair, and then one of you blinks, and it’s you again. “Simon,” she says carefully, biting her bottom lip and tapping a finger against your shoulder. She takes what feels like several minutes to decide what she’s going to say, though it can’t be more than thirty seconds.

“Is this about–?”

Betty Grof

There’s a reality where we got the crown (we get it in most of them, one way or another), but it wasn’t you who put it on. Simon took it out and came up behind me and popped it on my head. I remember hearing him say boop and start to laugh, and then the universe exploded around me. This, in my current state, says very little. It’s difficult for me to conceptualize what it would have felt like for my mortal brain, but I think that it was agony. It was, to my best approximation, something like having your skull split open, and then unceremoniously pouring the steaming hot knowledge of the cosmos inside.

Which is to say it was probably about as overwhelming for Simon as it was for me.

But when Simon put on the crown, in that first reality we endured together (for him. There is no first for me, nor a last, they are all as one, but it was the first reality my mortal flesh experiences, and so it is easier to describe it as the first) he only lost me. He thought, at the time, that the madness drove me away, and it took him a thousand years to learn the reality of the situation.

Perhaps it is a mercy, then, that in the reality where I don the crown first, I know immediately what happened to my Simon. The crown slips off my head, and I find him, body entombed in ice, save his head, which lolls lifeless and heavy to one side.

There’s more that happens after that, but I don’t stay long.

Simon Petrikov

Eventually, you’re able to convince Marceline that you’re quite alright, but maybe you could stand to eat soon. The two of you cut class, which makes you momentarily feel like a bit of a wild child. The University has a hall of student-run food outlets, and they vary from quite bad to decent. You are partial to the Greek-themed shop, because the chicken isn’t dry and you’ve always been a fan of tzatziki. You often keep a big tub of it in your fridge, when you aren’t living on campus.

You eat with Marceline, and she tells you that she and Bonnie are doing well, that she thinks Bonnie will graduate at the end of next semester but she’s probably going to take another year. She doesn’t mention what either of them are studying. You think that you should remember that. Why don’t you remember that? 

She asks you if you have any plans for tonight, and you tell her you have a date. Something tells you that you shouldn’t mention who it’s with, and she doesn’t pry, but she does give you a look that feels very sad, and you don’t like how it makes you feel.

Betty Grof

Simon always planned what we were going to do. While he did that, I managed time. Those sorts of things tended to get away from him. He’d get all wrapped up in research, in exploring every last inch of our ventures, and suddenly, he’d look up and it’d be night already. I always knew exactly what time it was. I learned to read the stars and the trajectory of the sun when I was young, and I’d always found comfort in the notion that no matter where I was in the world, I’d know when I was.

Now, time bends strangely around me, and there is equally no future to plan nor past to recall. Everything is happening, has happened, and will never happen. It is not something that my mortal mind was born to conceive of, though I suppose I’m well past that now.

I know all our realities, Simon. I know each of our beginnings and our ends. There are worlds where we die with our hands clasped together in the face of nuclear destruction. There are worlds where you go on without me, and others where I go on without you. There are realities where we linger together for decades, until the inevitability of death pulls us slowly and together into her arms. I spend more time than I should ruminating on these realities.

Simon Petrikov

Sometime after lunch, you end up back in your dorm room. You think you like it here, more so than you’ve liked a lot of your apartments. For one thing, you have easy access to a good library, though the University’s fiction section, as is often the case, leaves something to be desired. You have room for an armchair and a nice standing lamp. You often fall asleep in that chair, and your back does not thank you for it.

There will be none of that tonight, though, because again, you have a date.

You already look good— you always look good— but you like to dress up. Betty usually dresses comfortably, though she’ll put on her best if the situation calls for it, but a regular Friday evening date does not. She’ll be here in a sweater and slacks, and you’ll think she’s the most beautiful thing in the universe. You know, at this point, very little about the universe. You think you know quite a bit, but you’re mistaken. It’s better that way. Our mortal brains aren’t designed to comprehend such concepts. I would know.

Regardless of how good you currently look (very), you strip out of your blazer and button-down. Your tie is a clip-on, which you wouldn’t be caught dead with on a date. Betty doesn’t understand why it matters if they basically look the same, and doesn’t seem to get it no matter how many times you emphasize that it’s the principle of the matter. But that’s fine; you’re dressing up for you, and a little bit for Betty, but mostly for you.

In the end, you aren’t ready until two minutes before your date’s supposed to start. You’ve put on another nearly identical button-down which you insist is your nice one, as well as some nice black slacks and a matching suit jacket. Your tie is properly tied and not clipped on, like some sort of amateur. You fiddle with it in the mirror until you hear a knock on the door, right on time.

You glance away, and out of the corner of your eye, you once again see a flash of blue, but it’s gone when you whip your head back around. You inhale deeply, and exhale slowly through your nose.

I knock again.

You answer.

???

We’re in your dorm room. You’re looking at me, in that lovelorn way you always wore on date nights. It’s like warmth found a home in your eyes, like I can see the burning of your heart through them. You invite me inside and tell me you’ve put the kettle on for tea. You got the English breakfast tea I like.

We’re holding hands under the stars. The dewy grass seeps through clothing that’s too thin for the midnight chill as we sleep under the cold and unforgiving night sky. We’ll survive, but our aging bodies won’t thank us, and when we develop colds a week from now, we know who to blame.

We’re old together. Wrinkles tug at your face in a way I think is terribly handsome, but which you often fuss over. Day by day, simple things grow harder, and when your eyesight starts to go, you cup my face in your hands and whisper, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see your beautiful face.” I reassure you that you have lived without the sight before and will again, but this doesn’t soothe you. I wish it would.

We’re a thousand years beyond a time we should have ever been allowed to live, and I’m sacrificing my mind to restore yours. I never have a single doubt that you would do the same.

I know now that this is true, I’ve seen it come to fruition, in another life.

The bomb goes off while we lay, hand in hand.

You die cradled in my arms.

We’re in the dorm again, and you’re looking at me with an expression I cannot comprehend. I’ve known you for countless lifetimes, and yet there are still times where you perplex me.

“I don’t know where you end,” I say, and without missing a beat, you return, “I don’t know where I begin.”

Our realities, everything we are, is a web of entanglement from which neither of us can escape, no matter how powerful we become. My end is your beginning, my beginning your end, and everything in between those times, folding in upon each other in an incomprehensible cacophony of misery. I know all, and yet, at times even I struggle to understand it.

You are there, and then you are not.

I can always reach you, in a way, if I so choose. But we will never be as we once were. I know too much now.

Were I capable, I would weep for the loss.

#adventure time #atimers #simon petrikov #betty grof #petrigrof #golbetty #writing tag

[spookberry]

Watching your work recently has been so inspiring. I had a rough few semesters of art school, and while I enjoyed the classes, I was mildly disillusioned by an insistence on what felt like "meaningful" art...

A lot can be meaningful! After being online a bit more, around artists like you who clearly love what you're doing and make art you're passionate about, it kinda made me realize that I'm free! I can make what I want, whatever it is! Art that has historically and occasionally been deemed lesser (e.g. fanart) is not actually so, and art can mean a lot even if it isn't in fancy galleries or art books.

Anyway, what I mean to say is: you're inspiring, and talented. I really love your art for what it is and what it represents to me. I love seeing what you make, and it helps bolster me to make my own art as wild as I want!

This is one of the sweetest asks I've ever gotten and it's really made my, like, year lol.

This is the reason I post fanart!! Other artists represented the same for me when I was younger and it made want to participate and join in and I'm glad I did! I've met some cool people and I've had really interesting conversations and experiences via fandom... even if I can be a bit of a lurker at times haha.

Art School's rough, I definitely have felt similarly. A big problem is that a lot of professors tend to be hyperfocused on their own field and what makes art meaningful To Them. (the amount of times I've walked out of a class grumbling cuz a LA prof only wanted to talk about white box gallery work and didn't even know we HAD an animation department...) Which isn't always bad if you gel with the right ones, but other times it can definitely put a dampener on your work. A good way to look at art sometimes I think is that what's "meaningful" about it can be the smallest stupidest reason ever. And you just gotta stand by that, even if other people think it's lame. Sometimes the meaning was in making it, or getting to share it, sometimes the meaning is drawing your favorite blorbo in a white void because it gave you an outlet and makes you happy. That's meaningful, you just gotta know how to argue for that meaning sometimes. (profs LOVE a good bullshitter)

Turning in things for a grade rather than because you enjoy it is never going to be the best format for art regardless of what kind of art you're making. I've found the more I stuck it out the more things I actually enjoyed became available to me and now I'm kinda (not fully tho, im SO glad to be graduating fyi) regretting all the classes I never got the chance to take. You just gotta take it one day at a time and remember that art school should be there as a place to practice and better both your work and your own understanding of the work you make which can feel tedious and unnecessary at times but its worth it in the end(in my experience).

In the end you're the one paying for it and if you're not getting what you want out of it, it's best to look for other avenues, I did! I'm not graduating from the college I started at and I'm honestly really thankful for that.

Anyways, sorry for rambling lol, and thank you for you kind words. I wish you the best anon, you hang in there!

#ask

[vitamin-zeeth]

every time I see someone with a doctor who take or theory or anything that puts any weight whatsoever on 13s run I like immediately stop reading and just skim the rest of it. No hate to them I just

- didn't like the run

- gave up watching it during the timeless child arc cause the lore inaccuracies pissed me off

- generally ignore its existence cause it's easier

#to me everything osst like her first season is not canon sry #i didnt like the direction the show took i didnt like thewriting style or the general production style #it kinda felt like a weird dream id have when i was ill and had just been watching a bubch of dr who #also im a jay exci fan forever and always so the 5 Hour Dr Who Video Essay is a big part of my dislike #they made some great points and put ibto words loads of vague feelings id had about the series in a way i really liked #i only realised recently that a lot of dw tumblr is actually way into 13s run lmao so maybe this is a controversial take #but if it is then BREAKING MY SILENCE EXCLAMATION MARK EXCLAMATION MARK SHOCKED FACE SERIOUS FACE F WORD FACE #sorry non dw mutuals for putting more dw on your dash also trust me on this im really correct and cool and you agree with me B) #i also really hope this doesn't come off as passive aggressive towards anyone other than chris chibnall idgaf what you guys vibe with #anyway #dw #doctor who #look. chibnall made some wild lore decisions in his run that imo he did not by any means earn. so for that fuck you chibnall

[apoloniaspiegelgold]

Feeling very soft again thinking about how he just got back to work after being sick and the first thing he does is to come to my office and ask me to tell him all about what happened to me in the week that he couldn't be here. So I say something like "my supervisor had the audacity to criticise my paper despite saying that he hasn't even really read it yet" and I had been actually quite mad about that, but then he goes "Oh, but that's what you want, isn't it? Someone criticising your work, someone fighting back a bit?" And I stopped and felt my anger disappear instantly and I thought ... actually yeah, you're right, why are you right? Why was I even mad? Why do you know better what I want than I do?

#it's quite funny to me actually how he must have (correctly) drawn the conclusion that i like criticism because he and i are always fighting #like intellectually not on a personal level but a lot of the time we just question each other to our faces for like an hour and it's fun! #knowing him has been so helpful in preparing my talks because now i always wonder 'what will he criticise about this?' and go and improve i #also feeling kinda soft about how i said that a very cool researcher reached out to me after attending a talk of mine #because she thought my study was interesting and she had some thoughts about it that are actually helpful to me #and then i told him about it and he went 'but you made that point too! i remember! she's just rewording your words!' #which also had not occurred to me and so i said i might have but she put it more elegantly and in context but that it's still really helpfu #and he just looked at me like 'don't you dare give her credit for your ideas just because of her better wording' #i always feel like i'm not kind enough to him in return. like i'm nice but am i kind enough? can i ever repay him for his kindness? #what does it mean what does it all mean #ramblings

[waywardsalt]

ok since tears of the kingdom is coming out like. insanely soon i figured i’ll just dump how i’ve been feeling abt it here. i wont tag for them and i dont intend to share any but because i have been actively seeking out spoilers i will vaguely reference them here so… idk really long musings on this game and my feelings abt it

(im just writing this out mostly for myself since i really kind of just. want to really figure out how i feel about this)

i… am not excited for totk?

i’ve figured out a bit ago that my severely waning interest in botw and general anxiety and discontent surrounding totk is just that… these games arent for me. i dont enjoy open world games with half a million things for you to do like it’s basically a sandbox. i struggle to really enjoy singleplayer minecraft. the space stage in spore gives me genuine anxiety, both when i played it as a kid and again when i reached it as an adult.

botw and totk are not games for me, and that’s cool. i’ve figured that out.

so why am i getting so damn anxious about this new game?

i am getting totk- not entirely of my own volition, i live with someone who is very genuinely excited for it, so it’s pre-ordered digitally on our switch. i am going to play it and complete it at least once.

the gameplay and world of botw never really got to me, and even what snippets of gameplay i see for totk dont really entice me. it just makes me anxious to think about the sheer amount of new stuff i’ll be dropped in the middle of and how i really dont care about this version of link or zelda or anyone else in botw’s hyrule

and some of the story spoiler stuff and general direction this game is going in has me just worried that the zelda series is moving away from what it used to be into an entirely new direction, that being a direction that it seems like i wont enjoy as much as everyone else seems to

so then i guess my main worry outside of totk is that i just end up struggling to really feel connected to the rest of the community about this? being a contrarian is fun until everyone is enjoying something you for some reason can’t get yourself to

i dont have a lot of hope in the story of totk to harken back to… ANYTHING of worth that past games have built up and made to be so important and interesting. hype is a dangerous thing for a not-yet-released game, and while i think the insane amount of speculation and theories and hype around totk will cause a lot of people to be disappointed with the final story, i dunno if i really wouldve liked it even if the story actually piqued my interest

maybe totk’s gameplay will really hook me. maybe i’ll enjoy the massive open world and gmod-ass gimmicks. but what ive seen of the story makes me less interested and the snippets of gameplay i see just make me remember how bored i now am with botw

at the end of the day this is just a video game with tags on this site i can blacklist and videos i can ignore and lore i can brush aside because at this point loz canon is a suggestion more than anything

i just cant shake the discomfort of once again being an outlier as everyone i see loses their mind about this new game while i just feel overwhelmed by it. i have played botw for a long time and have long since worn it out. i played age of calamity to completion and have not touched it or cared for it beyond the music since. i am not excited about totk and i feel like i am in the wrong due to my opinion

#salty talks #kinda personal? just angsting abt totk and being a lil negative abt it #at this point im not expecting it to blow me away. i no longer have fun playing botw. i do not care for the story or characters #this if anything is to soothe my nerves and is for the sake of my own wellbeing to articulate how i feel about this #it is cool to like. put your feelings into words. this is a lot more eloquent than ‘i miss linebeck’ #it feels kinda selfish to bitch abt a game thats not out yet and complain abt it not seeming enjoyable to me #but it looks like a genuinely good game. but its not for me. and thats what im ruminating on here #like i love linear stories games that limit you and fun little gimmicks and characters with complex arcs and all that #i played a little bit of skyward sword earlier and was finishing up the cistern dungeon and was so delighted to see the main statue lowered #i love the dungeons with gimmicks that flip everything around and force you to really think abour your next move #im excited to reach the water temple in oot again to swim around and tinker with the water level #i cant wait to finish oot and move onto mm and its wonderful gameplay and areas #id love to revisit albw and get back to playing ph (and maybe finishing triforce heroes idk abt that one i just want the linebeck outfit) #i played botw for like ten minutes a few weeks ago and then put it away without a second thought #so. if anyone wanted to know how i feel abt totk. its a bit alienating #i might blacklist every variation of ze/ink tbh. sayonara you weeaboo shits and your bland fucking milquetoast ship thats kinda irritating #i may delete this bc it errs on the side of being too personal but i really just need to write this stuff downh #anyways. going back to writing my thing abt my oc n linebeck hanging out and being gay

[inmaki]

number one sorcerer (and virgin) .

synopsis: req! in which your boyfriend — notorious for boasting about how good he is in bed — turns out to be all bark and no bite (until you give him some guidance, at least).

pairing: virgin!switch!gojo x f!reader

wc: est. 6k?

incl: unprotected sex, pull-out method, lots of dirty talk, a bit of teaching gojo, petnames, manhandling, size kink, clit play, praise kink, edging (himself), teasing, mocking, fingering, oral (f + slight m), cum swallowing

a/n: ty for awakening smtn in me anon it was nice to be writing a full fic again!! hope im not too rusty,, this is straight up filth tho so mdni

back when satoru and you were just friends, he liked to make it very clear to your circle of peers that he wasn’t just good at sex.

no, according to himself, he was some kind of sex god — to match his power level in sorcery, of course.

and obviously, who was anyone to think otherwise? the great gojo satoru; such a cocky and confident demeanour paired with angelic white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a tall sculpted body that other guys at the gym double-take at. him..? a virgin? hah! good one.

satoru believes that he’s done a rather spectacular job at keeping his reputation sky-high.

the only problem was.. now he had a girlfriend with high expectations to please.

since the day you’d gotten together — going multiple months strong — satoru was starting to sweat more and more knowing that his rather crucial fabrication was bound to be brought up sooner or later. you had your needs just like him, and satoru wouldn’t blame you if you were a bit worried about why he hasn’t initiated anything; y’know, since he was supposedly eros in human form and all that.

little did you know your boyfriend felt equally frustrated. for slightly different reasons.

“bro, it’d be hot if she was a virgin, but me?!” flopping back against the armrest, gojo lets out a theatrical groan while his best friend — the only other person to know of his dark secret — snickers against the cushions nearby.

“everything’d be fine if you didn’t pretend to be some incubus that makes girls cum with a snap of his finger,” geto quips unhelpfully.

satoru lifts his head, sneering when he realizes that the raven-haired man was much too busy scrolling on his phone to notice how he’s resting a pair of dirty shoes on his white couch. “that would be pretty cool..” when he only receives a disgusted glance, he huffs, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable as his thoughts wander further. “how’m i even gonna tell her? what if she doesn’t trust me anymore?”

at last, suguru looks up with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “you know y/n isn’t like that. just.. wait for her to initiate something and go with the flow,” he advises, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“you find a way to be good at everything, anyway, toru. she’ll be begging for you in no time.”

as usual, geto knows him too well, because those last few words have gojo shooting up from the sofa with a grin. “ya think so?”

“hell yeah, man.” the two idiots end the discussion by dapping each other up, a confident gleam in both of their eyes.

only a couple days later, satoru discovers that going with the flow isn’t as easy as suguru advised. with your plush lips sucking his bottom one through occasional moans, along with a delicate pair of nails scratching perfectly at his undercut, he already felt himself getting breathless and aroused like a teenager.

perhaps you’ve put him under a spell; how is it that he lasts through prolonged battles while barely breaking a sweat, but having your cute hand move to rub up on his abs and pecs send his nerves into overdrive? it wasn’t like making out wasn’t uncommon for the two of you, this time it just felt so passionate with the way your hips moved to straddle his, tongue practically begging for entrance while the movie on screen was left long forgotten.

gojo can’t help but groan as your muscle explores his mouth, core ever so smoothly grinding on his bulge and igniting heat through his entire body. even as you pull away to take a breath, his grip on your waist remains stable as if you’d disappear at any moment— growing even tighter with the way you bore into his eyes hungrily. “satoru..”

your unusually seductive voice makes him audibly gulp. “y— yeah?” he whispers, glancing to the hand thats now moving down over his grey sweats. shit, this was too much, was he dreaming? he should do something, pinch himself before—

“touch me, please?” as you voice your request, you squeeze his dick so nicely that satoru swears he nearly explodes in his boxers.

he swallows, words getting lost in his throat. “i— i uh...”

for the first time in history, satoru has been rendered speechless, and you visibly panic at this realization. yet when you try to carefully maneuver off his lap and give him space, the clutch on your waist intensifies. “what— are you okay? what’s wrong?” you murmur, brows creasing with concern.

though you never brought it up, satoru’s worry about your confusion was correct; you’d been expecting him to jump your bones a week into your relationship, but seeing how he never forced anything and remained respectful was cute.. at first. after a month of rejection and being pushed away whenever things got too heated, insecurities were bound to start brewing inside you.

he better have a damn good explanation.

“i’m fine,” he reassures, “it’s just— i should probably tell you something..” refusing to meet your eyes, the sorcerer resorts to drawing shapes against the skin under your t-shirt. in other situations, this would feel soothing, relaxing even — but currently, his lacking and lingering touch made you want to rip the hairs off your head.

all you wanted was to finally get a taste of your steaming hot boyfriend. what could he possibly need to say right now? you ponder, hasn’t he been dying to finally show off how amazing he is in bed?

“yes..?”

“it’s actually a funny story, ahaha..” he stalls, chuckling nervously as you turn his jaw to make eye contact. a feeling of impatience and neediness pulls through you, but you contain yourself with a deep breath.

“spit it out, satoru.”

there was no going back now, right? “so.. i’ve uh— i’ve never actually done this before.”

you blink.

“you’re a virgin?”

it was difficult to believe your own words; it sounded wrong no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around it. satoru being inexperienced? the satoru with a rock hard 6 pack? the satoru with biceps that bulge out of his shirts and a face sharp enough to be sculpted by aphrodite herself? your satoru?

it sounded ridiculous, but the ugly pout rising across his lips tells you that it wasn’t a prank after all. “hey, don’t call me that, now it sounds way worse!”

a sigh escapes your lips, arms folded across your chest. “so all those never have i ever games and stories you told about one night stands were— mph!" before you know it, a large hand is covering your mouth.

“listen, how about we talk about this after having some fun?” a surprisingly determined gleam shines in your boyfriend’s icy blue eyes, making your thighs clench together in excitement.

who were you to say no to that?

—

next thing you know, pillows support your back as a shirtless satoru lies directly in front of your clothed crotch, hot breath making you wiggle around impatiently.

“jus— just take it off me, toru. so damn slow—“

“baby,” he scolds, looking genuinely upset, “this is my first time seeing a pussy in real life and you’re ruining it with your lack of patience.”

you can only roll your eyes and groan, head flopping back against the cushions in boredom. there was no way to predict how satoru’s first time would go, but you never expected it’d be this agonizing on your end — nor that he’d be so bossy.

though luckily, after another deep breath, your panties are gently tugged down your legs, and satoru can only inhale as he watches your poor hole clench around nothing. it only made sense that after all that dry humping and making out that your neediness increased, and it didn’t help that you could clearly see the way satoru was not only rock hard, but much bigger than average through his grey sweats.

“ooh.. oh shit..” like the invasive pervert he is, satoru moves even closer to the point where your thighs rest on his muscular shoulders before taking two fingers to spread your lips apart. this way, he has a clear view of the place that needs him most, and it makes a furious blush blossom on your cheeks.

“s— satoru.. what are you doing?” now you felt like the virgin, desperately attempting to shut your legs with no avail. damn this big idiot and his strength.

suddenly, his piercing eyes snap up to you, a feral look in his gaze. “shit, how’m i gonna fit in this little hole?”

you can’t deny the way his dirty words does something to you — not that you’d ever admit it. “that’s why you gotta prep me, toru. y’know..” you gulp, “fingering, or like.. eating me out.”

in response, you get a cheshire grin. “sounds fun. show me how you do it, sweets.”

“w-what?”

satoru leans back, attemping to hold in a mischievous smile. “how else am i gonna learn?”

even masturbating alone makes you flush in slight embarassment, so doing it in front of someone else — your cheeky, shamleess boyfriend no less — had you drowning in nerves. the bigger problem was that his words held a strong point; you’re supposed to be teaching him for his first time and ensuring it’s as enjoyable as possible.

these reminders make you mumble out a gentle fine, breath stuttering as you spread your legs further for the man in front of you.

satoru is now resting his weight on the palms of his hands, looking laid back and relaxed, but evidently still focused at the way your fingers move to unclasp your bra with skill. “damn..” as your tits are freed, he finds himself needing to adjust his sweatpants and nearly letting out a pathetic noise you would definitely tease him for.

you gulp, trying to ignore his blatant gawking. “it’s good to.. y’know, tease a bit before getting straight to it. makes it feel better — for me, at least,” you explain while massaging your chest, hiding surprise at the way he sternly nods in understanding.

now that you think about it, something tells you this is the most focused satoru has ever been in a learning environment.

after a bit more pinching and fondling, your hands slide down to your stomach and thighs, trying to get your breathing to relax. having gojo watch you do something so private was.. surreal, but you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet before, if that meant anything.

once you finally move down to your most intimate part, satoru takes a deep breath. he watches as you use your fingers to reveal a small bundle of nerves, pulsing and desperate for attention. “this is the clit, toru. s’very important.”

his eyes light up. “oh, i know that one!” he announces proudly, “i remember suguru saying i have to.. uh, worship it or something.”

you snicker at the thought of geto giving out sex pointers. “mhm, sometimes penetration isn’t enough, so you need to give it attention or i can’t really finish.”

gently, you start massaging the bud in circles, humming at the feeling of finally getting some type of relief. you move down to your hole to collect some of your wetness before bringing it back up, letting out a moan in satisfaction.

the way satoru licks his lips as you finally plunge a finger into your wetness has you shivering, but you remind yourself that for now, this was simply a demonstration and that you’d get a taste of him later.

after adding another, you attempt to reach your sweet spot by curling upwards, but it seems that even your hopelessly inexperienced boyfriend could tell that it was getting nowhere.

“aw,” he pouts teasingly, “lil’ fingers can’t reach anything, huh?”

“shut— shut up, satoru.”

before you know it, he’s moved onto his stomach again, face to face with your pussy and gripping your now soaked fingers. “you use these pathetic things when y’masturbate, huh? imagining my dick while having such tiny fingers up your cunt? kinda offended, babe..”

you feel your tummy flip, where did he learn to talk like that?

“do you have to be so vulg—“ you’re cut off by a choking gasp as a warm, wet muscle licks a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit.

“thanks for the lesson. ‘think i got it from here,” is all satoru says before he’s diving in, slurping up as much of your essence as possible before latching his plush lips right onto your poor little clit.

you can’t help but wiggle around at the jump in stimulation, but that only lasts about five seconds before a muscular arm presses you firmly against the mattress, rendering you trapped and unable to escape to his ministrations.

“hey, slow down!” your words are coincidentally yelped out right as he wiggles a much bigger finger into you. it explores your insides eagerly, caressing and feeling up what satoru believes will be his new favourite place.

“wow..” sluuurp, “so warm n’ soft in here..” he happily mumbles against your pussy. the vibrations of his now deeper voice shoot through you like electricity, eliciting another choked whine from your throat.

it felt like he was just toying with you; looking way too content drinking up everything you offered, fluid rushing down his chin and nose pushed firmly against your pelvis to inhale your scent.

suddenly, he’s jabbing his fingertip right into that pocket of sunshine that makes your eyes roll back, a loud whimper leaving your throat before you could stop it. “satoru, right there!” he swiftly seperates from your clit just to mumble out a here? in confirmation, prodding your sweet spot over and over in record breaking speed.

when you nod, he grins smugly, now adding another finger to stretch you further. “mmmph, this is pretty fun. could lie here all night.”

luckily, you barely process his words, much too busy enjoying the best finger-fuck of your life — and this was only his first time, you remember, what will the bastard do to you once he’s got some practice in?

a shaking hand tumbles into his snowy locks, attempting to pull him back weakly. “wait, m’gonna cum, toru—“

gojo growls almost animalistically, tugging your hand back onto the sheets. “then fuckin’ do it,” he demands. “c’mon, i’ve earned it, right?” then, he sucks even harder, fingers slamming and curling and making the loudest squelch you’ve ever heard.

“see?” he continues, “lil’ cunt wants to cum so bad for me. knows who 'er owner is already.” his filthy words definitely take part in the way your orgasm hits like a train, body shaking and toes curling as you let the feeling of bliss take over you. you flinch at how swiftly his tongue licks up everything you give him, the fingers in his hair tugging harder in overstimulation.

“toruuuuu..”

he simpers, tasting his cum-covered lips. “yeeees?”

“this— this is your first time, i should be making you feel good.”

slowly but surely, your eyes reopen, meeting your boyfriend’s relaxed gaze as he rubs your thigh affectionately. “dunno what you’re talking about, i felt pretty good just now.” when you only pout further, he snickers, pushing some of his bangs back smoothly. “c’mon, there’s lots of time for you to get me off later. m’ too excited for the main event..”

at last, he reaches for his sweatpants, more than excited to tug them down and finally give his aching cock some freedom. satoru doesn’t think he’s ever had a more painful boner in his life, but it was all worth seeing you release all over his tongue and fingers.

right as he finishes untying the knot, pale fingers drifting up to the waistband, you’re smacking him away to make room for your own hands. he watches with an open mouth as you pull his boxers down along with his pants, leaky, hard cock springing free and nearly hitting you in the face.

shit, of course his dick is perfect too. with a bit of white hair at the base, bulging veins adorned the entirety of his massive length, and the tip — shit, the tip was even bigger than the rest, mushroom shaped and angry red. his balls looked equally agitated and full — the epitome of breeder balls, and you gulped at the thought of him filling you up with everything they had.

now his question from earlier made sense, and he seems to be enjoying the realization on your face from his spot kneeling on the bed. “like what’cha see?” he coos, one big hand lowering to relieve the aching in his balls.

“toru, i don’t know if you’ll even fit. why— why do you have to be so big?” it’s annoying, you want to say — but the white-haired man has already laid back and manhandled you onto his chiseled stomach, a yelp escaping you at his suddenness.

he’s smiling so hard at your little dilemma that it’s almost sick, hands resting behind his head cockily. “tell me more while you ride me, baby.”

after processing that all you’ve been doing is feeding his size kink and inflating his already massive ego, you frown. “i’m serious, toru!”

“what!? i’m serious too!�� the man defends with fake innocence, blue eyes shining in glee. “you’re the expert here, remember? ‘supposed to be teaching me how it’s done.”

all you do is grumble whilst moving down to sit between the sorcerer’s thighs, lightly prepping him with your fist and a dribble of spit from your mouth that has the white-haired male biting his lip. “fuck..” satoru can’t recall how many times he’s masturbated to the mental image of this exact moment, but now that it was finally happening, he promised himself to savor it as much as possible.

when you move to finally straddle him, hole hovering just above his length, he begins bucking his hips up desperately. “hurryyy…”

“are you in heat or something?” you snort, giving him a dirty glare as if you weren’t about to let him inside you.

“for you? yeah.” satoru offers you a cheesy wink and grin that dissipates the second your warmth encloses his aching tip. his hands slowly move up to grip your waist, jaw clenching in an attempt to not slam you down to his balls right then.

“ngh… fuuuck, baby,” he groans as you ever so carefully move down another inch. “jesus.. you’re sooo damn tight. dunno’ how you’re even taking me..”

you squeeze your eyes shut in attempt to bare the discomfort for him, a slight crease growing between your brows. “satoru, fuck— hurts..” he immediately reopens his eyes in worry, searching for a way to take your pain away.

yes, he could already tell that he enjoyed being meaner with you in bed — but it’s never fun if you don’t feel good as well. though he luckily recalls your lesson from earlier, moving a soft thumb down to massage your clit in tight circles.

when you jolt and nearly faceplant into his neck, he only grins proudly, now using one veiny hand to help push you further onto him. “theeere we go.. aw, feel better?”

“mhm, feels full..” you mumble back, looking down to see that you — unbelievably — still had a couple inches to go.

satoru feels like he’s about to burst on the other hand, thriving in pure ecstasy at the feeling of your walls massaging him just perfectly. he can’t help but thrust up and force his last inches inside you, an echoing smack! of skin against skin singing through the room and eliciting a startled yelp from your throat.

“toru!” despite your scolding, you can’t deny the perfection in which his tip kissed your g-spot effortlessly. his hands felt ever so soothing, comfortingly running up and down as you sat impaled on his cock, wiggling around to get comfortable and ruining him in the process.

just as you start to adjust, you feel yourself being lifted up. “m’ sorry sweets..” gojo suddenly voices, “i can’t..”

“huh? what do you m—ah!” you’re flipped onto your back before you know it, knees resting on the shoulders of your boyfriend who has a gleam in his pupils that you’ve quite frankly never seen before; he looked feral.

satoru carefully pulls out until only his tip is encased in your warmth, and everything is calm for a moment. you both take a deep breath, and he smiles down at your already fucked-out face with pride. “satoru—“

then he’s pushing back in with all the strength his massive hips can produce, and you think if it weren’t for his hands wrapped around your thighs, you would’ve got pushed off the bed entirely. you unintentionally let out the loudest sound of the night, and this sets him off.

now he was getting brutal, bullying your cunt with hit after hit against the spot that has drool dripping down your cheek and eyes crossing. you can’t even stop the pathetic noises and symphonies of right there! that leave your lips, no matter how hot your cheeks flush in embarrassment. it felt as though every time his dick jabbed back in he was right up in your tummy, veins pulsing and ensuring your pussy is molded to the perfect sleeve for him.

“toru, shit— nghh, faster, please! feels s’good!”

“nghh, toru, faster! ahaha..” he mocks you — of course he does, but picks up the pace nonetheless — now holding your lower body up so that your knees dangle higher over his shoulders and each stroke is angled exactly where you want him. “so cute when you’re gettin’ stuffed full, baby.”

he leers as you send him the harshest expression you can manage, reaching down for your clit and giggling as you start squirming in an attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure. this bastard is having way too much fun, you realize, moans being forced out of you almost tauntingly.

tonight you discover that satoru’s way of fucking is rather animalistic, frantic, thrilling, and with the sole purpose of making you both feel as good as possible. if you want him to go slow or make love to you, you’d probably have to ask beforehand — or perhaps tie him up so you could have your fun in peace.

if your insides weren’t being rearranged, you’d grin at the thought of your boyfriend restrained and at your mercy. another night, you promise yourself.

“tightest pussy ever f’my first time baby.. haah.. can’t believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.” for once, something praising comes out of his big mouth, breathes getting cut short every time you involuntarily squeeze him harder. he swears there’s no better feeling then what you were giving him right now, not even singlehandedly resurrecting himself using the reversed curse technique.

and while no injuries have ever left a scar on gojo satoru, he decides that the claw marks you’re ruthlessly digging into his back will stay as long as his body allows — why should he hide how good he’s made you feel despite being a virgin an hour prior?

maybe if he’s in the mood to brag, he’ll show them to suguru later.

“feels good toru, fuckin’ me so good,” you feel the way his whole body reacts to your praises, a deep growl melting from his lips as the sounds of skin slapping increasingly grows in volume.

“babyyy,” he pants, legs being held higher while he digs deeper into your guts, “m’gonna cum.. need you to cum with me.“ the twitching of his length inside you gave away the fact that gojo has practically been on the edge ever since he pushed into you — and while he knows it’s completely normal to cum prematurely on your first time, when has he ever not gone above expectations?

in a split second you’re flipped onto your hands and knees, veiny hands pushing you into a deep arch while your boyfriend gives his body a moment to relax, pinching his base (a rather perverted method he’s learned by edging himself while masturbating) between his thumb and pointer.

when you needily wiggle your hips in an attempt to find his cock again, he grins boyishly. “lookin’ for this?” he sings the words right before plunging his entire length back into you, abusing your g-spot while a lanky finger impressively finds the bud between your legs right away (a skill that most ‘experienced’ men you’ve previously been with fail to achieve), circling and pinching in a frantic attempt to make your orgasms arrive in sync.

“fucking hell.." you whine, the new angle making his tip bump against spots that have never been rubbed before. “can feel you so deep..”

“oh yeah?” his bicep pulls you up so your head rests on his broad shoulder, now victim to the filth being whispered directly into your ear. “m’ i doing good? fuckin’ this lil’ pussy nice and deep like she needs?”

when you nod, he beams like a maniac, seemingly encouraged to pound you even harder as his hips pick up the pace. “damn, ‘think i’m already a pro at this, huh?”

for the sake of your sanity, you ignore his bragging. “toru, don’t stop. i’m— i’m gonna..”

“you’re gonnaaa?” he derides, kissing the corner of your lip sweetly. “tell me, baby.”

“gonna cum for you, please.” satoru almost decides to fill you up at those words, but his self control is just a bit stronger. he feels the way your cunt is pulsing, body practically shaking as you get closer and closer to release, and he’s determined to help you reach it.

his thrusts get a bit sloppier, and you’re too busy basking in your own pleasure to see the eye-candy that is gojo biting his swollen lips, sweat dripping down his temples all the way to his solid abs, snowy bangs a tad bit moist against his forehead. he looked like the definition of temptation; straight out of a wet dream with stamina that seemingly never declined.

“me too, baby. c’mon, cum on this dick. s’all yours to ruin.”

you moan as you allow yourself to let go, toes curling and nails digging into his toned forearms ecstatically. “thaaat’s it, good girl.. ahah.. such a good girl f’me.” he talks you through it as if he’s done so a million times, both of you looking down to watch your release coat his dick and the crumpled sheets below.

at his praise, you squeeze him just a bit tighter, making his lips curl up in interest. “my girl likes being praised, huh? yeah.. doing so good makin’ a mess on me..”

he pulls out, carefully lowering you to the mattress before tugging on his dick in hopes of reaching his own peak. satoru forces himself to open his eyes just enough to admire the view of you fucked out below him, body shaking slightly as you recover from the intense waves of your orgasm.

“y/n,” he abruptly whines, patting your shoulder with a subtle urgency in his voice.

“..mhmm?”

“where can i cum? quick baby— please, i’ve been holding this for way too long—“ this has your body moving, eyes popping open as you swiftly bend down so your mouth hovers directly in front of him.

you replace his fist with yours as soft lips move to suckle harsly on his leaking tip, and now it’s gojo who has his eyes rolling back; whimpers flying out of his throat every time your tongue massages the delicate underside, sending visible shocks through his body. “fuck!” he can only curse and run his fingers through your hair for support while you pump him dry. “just like that, good.. haah.. good fuckin’ girl, shiiit.”

you’ve never seen your boyfriend — the strongest — look so pathetic and desperate, but it only spurs you on further, enjoying the way he continues to blabber about how pretty you are and how he’s gonna fill your mouth like he would your pussy. in response, you greedily hum around him, licking through his slit as if you were pleading the little hole to give you what you deserved.

and only moments later, satoru’s words become reality; though he attempts to keep revelling in the feeling of your warm lips and hands, his body stills in place instinctively, one last warning tumbling out of his throat as your mouth is flooded with rope after rope of bitterly sweet fluid.

it seems like your accusations about his breeder balls were correct, because once it starts it seemingly never ends; cum now overflowing from the corners of your lips as you struggle to swallow frequently enough to not choke on how much he deposits.

meanwhile, gojo feels like he is quite literally ascending, everything becoming unimportant next to you and the feeling of pleasure being forced through him like an overwhelming earthquake, pulse after pulse as you suck him for all he’s worth.

“thas’ right.. take every damn drop, baby.” when satoru looks down and earns a glimpse of the white fluid trickling down your chin, his dick twitches in your mouth. “god, you’re so sexy..”

once he was done, you both flop onto the bed in exhaustion, and while the vulnerable moment has utmost potential to become something cute and memorable, a certain blue-eyed bastard decides to open his mouth once again.

“what’re you huffin’ and puffin’ for?” he sasses, shamelessly eyeing the way your tits rose and fell with every breath you took. “all you did was lie there while i had a full body workout!”

you take a very deep breath. “i just let you put your dick inside me. shut the fuck up.”

at your reminder of what’d just occurred, he grins like an idiot. “you’re right, thank you.” they’re soft, but he ensures his words are as audible and genuine as he can make them.

satoru isn’t exactly the best with words, but he knows damn well that — despite all the bullshit he'd spouted at those parties — you’re the only person he wanted to have his first time with, and the fact that you allowed his wish to become reality is something he’ll forever be grateful for.

“i love you..” you soften. “even if you’re a pillow princess.” you stiffen again.

nothing could stay lovey-dovey with him for too long.

a fake cry is pulled from his lips as you rudely smack his shoulder. “i tried to ride you but you flipped me over after ten seconds!”

“it’s not my fault you're as slow as a fuckin' snail!”

somehow, you both make it to the washroom despite all the banter. just as you bend over in hopes of starting the shower up, a mean spank is delivered to your ass.

when you turn to meet the culprit, he only narrows his eyes at you playfully. “round two, m’lady?” it’s almost like his voice lowers on purpose, dirty words rumbling in his throat, knowing what it did to your body.

you do your best to send him a disappointed glance anyway. “day one of not being a virgin and you’re already the horniest man i know.”

after following you inside, his fluffy hair flattens from the steamy water before nudging you back, encasing you between him and the solid wall.

“i might be willing to overlook the fact that you know other horny men if you agree to some very loving, extremely intimate making out,” he requests with a smirk, sleek nose poking yours in a much gentler way than expected.

you still send him a distrusting raise of your brow. “only making out, huh?”

the dirty smirk he sends you is all you need to know, along with his hardened dick pressing against your thigh as he moves in to kiss you.

what have you gotten yourself into?

mlist! gojo showing off his back scratches! <- if you enjoy silly virgin gojo pls lmk in the reblogs, comments, or asks <3

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

tags: @gojoallmine @allofffmypeaches @haitaniholic @pandoraium

#inmaki #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou satoru x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #jujutsu satoru #jjk x female reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x you #satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x female reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru

[kenntolog]

Loser gf and cool bf sukunas almost first time with reader and she’s scared of how big he is so he just shows her how it’ll feel by dry humping her into the mattress

𝝑𝝔 an: this is literally my first time posting smut i feel so nervous heh, hope u like this dear anon!! reblog if you like, and don’t forget to read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here <33 nsfw!!

cool boyfriend sukuna is so understanding with his loser girlfriend when it’s time to be intimate.

and a bit cocky, because he knows he’s big and your reaction only fuels his ego more; he leads your hand down onto his crotch while his lips move over yours and your mouth opens in a small gasp, causing him to smirk and pull away to watch your face.

“i’ll make you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you ear, but your body tensing under his hands makes him stop as he looks at you carefully. “m?”

when he spots your embarrassed expression, sukuna stares at you questioningly. you don’t meet his gaze though, looking around the room aimlessly as you bite on your lower lip. fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt and looking all around nervous under him — the realisation dawns upon him quickly as he readjusts himself over you.

“you don’t wanna do it, do you?” he asks sincerely. at that you nearly jump up, face turning red as you shake your head no.

“i-i do! i wanna do it, but i’m kinda scared, ‘kuna,” you pout, sitting up a little. “m’sorry.”

sukuna almost coos at how incredibly cute you look while apologising, hand coming up to ruffle the hair on top your head with a small chuckle.

“don’t apologise, baby, we’ll just take it slow.” he kisses your chin, biting on it right after to make you whine as his hand once again moves lower to touch you through your pants. “i still wanna make you feel good tho.”

“yeah?”

he moves back, looking down at you with a playful smirk, and removes his clothes quickly, leaving only his boxers on. you don’t get time to admire his physique since he’s urging you to do the same with his nimble hands already helping you out of your pants.

sukuna’s movements stop when you’re left in your underwear, eyes silently asking if you want your bra removed too, and when you shake your head no he just nods, leaning closer to you.

he tries his best not to focus on the wet patch between your legs because the heat from your skin radiating on his is enough to make him crazy.

“what’re you doing, ‘kuna?” you ask, eyes a little bit hazy as you watch him settle in between your legs, his crotch hovering over yours. he rubs your clit through the thin layer of damp fabric, his smirk growing more satisfied as you gasp and grip his hand, small moans coming out of you.

sukuna leans down to kiss you, humming in delight when you eagerly respond to him, arms slithering around his neck to pull him closer. every time he puts a bit of pressure on your clit with his thumb your whines become longer and more broken, body aching and twirling under his hands, and sukuna mentally notes to think of more ways to make you sound like that.

and then he finally presses himself onto you, one hand circling around you hips to move you too, as your mouth opens in surprise, the prettiest moan coming out of it. the touch of his hard cock is a lot more firmer than his fingers, the sweet pressure making your breathing faster.

rolling his hips expertly, sukuna groans at the feeling of your juices staining his boxers along with his precum, the friction becoming even more delicious as he starts going a little faster. your moans match his pace, small fingers tugging at his hair as you utter his name like a prayer, looking up at him with the most beautiful expression in the world.

“how does it feel?” he sucks in your bottom lip, biting it softly, and a pleased laugh escapes him when your hips start rolling too, meeting his halfway without his help. “don’t… hah… stop—”

“‘kuna, please!”

“please what?”

you whine into his neck instead, too flustered to say the words and as much as sukuna wants to make you beg for it he knows that it’s your first time ever trying something like this so he lets it rest. another time, he thinks as his lips stretch into a sweet smile when he notices your body growing restless, craving more friction.

“are you close?”

you nod frantically, leaning your forehead against the side of his face, too embarrassed of your expressions, but sukuna doesn’t let you hide, hand under your jaw and fingers digging into your cheeks softly to hold your head still as he moves his hips faster.

“come.”

“sukunaa~”

“c’mon, baby, do it for me—”

you come with a loud cry, brows pinched together and mouth hanging open slightly as you pant heavily, hips still grinding uncontrollably to ride out the pleasure. barely registering sukuna’s face as he stares at you, in awe of the look on your face.

sukuna’s grip on your face softens as he places a sweet kiss on your puffy lips, falling to his side and pulling you into himself despite the mess between your bodies. that’s a matter for a bit later.

“you look so pretty when you come. wanna see you do it on my cock.”

you stare at him in distress before burrowing your face in his bicep, breathing him in unconsciously and refusing to comment on his dirty words. but sukuna isn’t pleased with that, hand once again cupping your jaw to make you look at him and stare down at you with lustful gaze and a menacing grin.

“you wanna try it next time, baby?”

you can only nod, a shy smile appearing on your lips at the sight of his excitement.

#— miya writes! #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader