#Ask-lazy-cloud
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So, if suns LEAST favorite PokĂ©mon is Sunflora, itâs his favorite pokemon Heliolisk or Solgaleo?
Pop quiz for all the cooking with sun au lore trackers. What is the name of the kid in the cat hat? (It was mentioned in a single panel of one of my comics >w>) << First < Previous ~*~ Next >
The previous Pokemon-related asks can be seen here and extended upon here.
#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf moon#fnaf sun#cooking with sun au#sun and moon fnaf#comic#wholesome#Am I the only one âPikachu Sunâ looks a little uncanny or cursed to?#You will be graded for your pop quiz answers (kidding)#I'm too lazy to do that#pokemon#pikachu#ash ketchum#shows up in the thought cloud of one panel#ask response
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You mentioned some of the characters in your AU are based on animals (Moth!Aerith is genius btw) What about Cloud? He feels to me like a Cat that knocks things off edges while making eye contact. But this is your AU and i wanna hear your thoughts.
YOU'RE SO RIGHT. cat cloud supremacy
tbh I don't really have an animal motif ironed out for cloud.. I get a kinda, Phoenix, falling star vibe from him, but those are harder to get across in his design.
#my art#cloud strife ffvii#basing characters off animals can help me with designs because animals have very distinct faces that can be fun to translate hehe#but not all of them get that because i get lazy#zack lives au#thanks for the ask!!!! im back 2 answering them so if anyones sent one in SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT ARHHFGFH
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that weird anon who wanted you to go to twitter is disgusting, you are one of the most based people on tumblr and i hope you have a good day so that miserable pile of secrets will not
lol thank you
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headmates
#art tag#rottmnt#raph#raphael#pizza puffs#savage raph#mind raph#donatello#michelangelo#leonardo#april#sorry to any architect seeing this#or person who tidies their room#i hope you like this i made it with my blood and tears#im not sure if this design could be functional at all but i had to draw it#explanation for mind raph's room is that in every screenshot he was in a thinking bubble and in blue tones#so it came like that (maybe i was lazy to make another bedroom)#i mean he can probably turn these clouds into furniture#maybe you could interpret it like mind raph hasnt much defined and has everything fuzzy?#if someone asks about details or hc about them sorry i have nothing the only thing i know is about threads people have done
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what brushes do you use in photoshop?
a self-made simple square one link
#i am to lazy to change them...#just stick with this one...#okay uhm... for furs i do use a fluffy cloud bursh one but that one is in the standard pack#chip!ask
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absolutely effin nobody istg: ...
actual crickets: ...
the void of space & time who are legit noisy bitches: ...
mY ass:
sooooo
idk if it's just me, sitting here like...
FOR ALL W E KNOW, CLOUD COULD BE A LEGIT NAME IN NIBELHEIM. Like? It's a remote mountain village that's very alpine/baltic coded, so who's to say Common is even *commonly* spoken there.
Maybe they speak Nibel primarily, only bothering with Common bc the Shinra flunkies occasionally insist on showing up and being obnoxious industrial colonizers. I don't know.
So maybe "Cloud" is just how the people who've never heard a genuine Nibel accent interpreted that name, and he gdamn goes with it, bc he's just a poor kid from a small village. Who tf is gonna give a shit that they're butchering his name.
......bc, like? To me? It sounds like it could be an adaptation of his mother's name, Claudia.
bc think about how you say Klaud/Claude. And Klaud/Claude is a masc version of the name Klaudia/Claudia.
I'm just saying.
(not that anyone asked jfc brain)
#ff7 meta#cloud strife meta#random thinky thoughts nobody asked for#these weren't even shower thoughts just my brain AND ANOTHER THINGing abt tiny details#if I weren't too lazy to retag a rb I'd SIR THIS IS A WENDY'S my own gdamn post#so instead you get that tag
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trick or treat ^_^
:3 :3 :3 :3 i'm gonna give you an animal fact this time cause i gave you a treat last time, mua ha ha ha
your fun fact: the spanish name for sloths is perezoso, which, understandably, means lazy, but it also, delightfully, can be translated to mean "lazybones" đ„°đ„°đ„°
#definitely gonna call sloths âlazybonesâ from now on sdlfkjsdlkfj#i also saw their name translated as âthe laziesâ which is. very good#clouds gets asks#clouds gets trick or treaters#this has been an original post
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Iâm here but Iâm still coloring that thing I was before.Â
And Iâve decided Iâm going to just keep giving you zoomed screens that make no sense until itâs done. LOL I sketched it at the beginning of October but got distracted so here we are now.Â
#// Work in progress#// asks and such will come as the cloud decides he wants to answer them#// some times only certain subjects get his attention#// or he's just content to read a book or sleep all day#// sometimes he's a lazy cloud#// I'm sorry for him
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get it ??? abigale ? abi-GALE ????? please tell me someone gets it
#YESS the lightning is supposed to resemble a ponytail#YESSS twisted abigail's singular eye is supposed to resemble a solar eclipse#YYESSSS the cloud patterns and dripping ichor are supposed to look like rain/downpour#also the battery is probably overpowered but I'm too lazy to go fix it <///3#I've been drawing for hours#my head hurts and I just want sum ice cream (ïżœïżœïżœÂŽâ -â ïčâ -â `â )#Worm Draws#dandys world#dandy's world oc#dandys world art#dandy's world#dandys world oc#dandy's world art#dw#NNNOO i am not too proud of twisted abigail's coloring#also#YYYYYESSSSS twisted abigail's singular eye is also supposed to represent a metaphorical 'eye of the storm'#not bc that's what she is I jus thought the wordplay was cool#feel free to hit up my ask box about her TvT
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WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS TURN AROUNND đ
#hereâs the thing okay#yes im abnormal about them but not everything is cuz im bias and clouded#he legitimately didnât do this while shingo or goro were answering (the other two on the second level)#he also didnât pay much attention to the member being asked their question but then completely turned himself in ponâs direction for his#(okay so i wrote the tag before finishing this part of the show..but he does turn around when goroâs being asked his second question)#(ill leave the tag tho cuz im lazy and dont wanna retype)#likeâŠâŠ#i cant express how itâs not just me being shippy and them just caring about each other a lot lmfao#tsukutta#snipsnipbit#they are so dumb
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GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP
⩠⧠Ë. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional wayâby having sex! NSFW
contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p â> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.
author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)
âdid you tell them weâre back together?â
satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.
âyeah, i did,â he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.
a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakupânot messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it couldâve easily been avoided. it wasnât that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.
since then, things have been a little differentâsatoruâs been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your âhoneymoonâ away from satoruâs stream seems to be coming to a close.
âsomething smells good,â satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. âwait, is that ramen?â your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully.Â
âyeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,â you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.
âyâknow, i still havenât forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,â you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air.Â
â...does that mean i donât get to eat that ramen?â satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.
âmaybe, maybe not,â you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.
âboo, you whore.â
you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. âyouâre lucky iâm too nice to let you starve, regina,â you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both handsâa habit from his childhood that never went away. âotherwise youâd beââ
satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss.Â
âbest girlfriend ever,â satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.
âhow many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?â he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. itâs cute how satoruâs face lights up at the taste, and itâs even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. âi didnât know instant ramen could be this good,â he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.
âvery funny, satoru,â you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. âand to answer your question, i donât really know.â
satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. â...wait, what does that mean?â
you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. âiâm not sure how long itâll take until weâre back to⊠normal,â you say cautiously. in all honesty, you werenât that pissed off at himâyou never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you werenât entirely sure it wouldnât happen again.
satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than youâve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. âany idea how i can make it up to you?â
you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. âyou tell me. actions speak louder than words.â
your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. âthen lemme prove it to you.â
âsatoru, you canât bribe me with sex.â
âthatâs not all iâll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.â
and thatâs how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoruâs soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. âfeels sâgood, satoru,â you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. âsorryââ
âdonât apologize,â satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. âaw, youâre so fuckinâ cute,â he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. âand iâm the one who should beâfuck, youâre gorgeousâapologizing.â
this isnât the first time satoruâs eaten you out, but it feels like it every single timeâsomehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoruâs face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. âshit, i donât know what iâd be without you,â he murmurs, voice low and steadyâand something about his tone makes you certain heâs being completely honest with you.
âyouâre soâfuck, satoru, iâm gonna cum,â you breathe, back automatically arching when satoruâs tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give outâbut thankfully, satoruâs hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. ââtoru, i canâtââ
âyeah, yâcan, just relax that pretty pussy for me,â he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. âcâmon, youâre doing so good fâme, keep going, baby.â and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cumâthe sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoruâs face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.
you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoruâs mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what youâre begging him to do, heâs not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck youâso stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies.Â
you squeeze satoruâs hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. âdonât ever leave me like that again,â you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reasonâmaybe itâs the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe itâs the way heâs holding onto you like thereâs no place heâd rather be.
âi wonât,â satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, âand if i do, shoot me.â it sounds like a joke, but you both know that heâs dead serious.
âgood thing i wonât have to do that,â you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like homeâand thatâs the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you.Â
satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoruâs jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.
even though itâs only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like itâs been foreverâyour boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you âso fucking muchâ as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you.Â
âfuckinâ hell, iâm never gonna get tired of this,â satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so.Â
âyeah, you better not,â you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you canât remember the last time you felt this goodâmaybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. âsatoru, yâre going so slowââ
your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. âthe fuck you mean, iâm going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,â he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. âalways so selfish, arenât you?â he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. âbut youâre alwaysâsoâfuckinââsweet,â satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.
âyouâre the selfish one,â you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. âyou broke up with me for no reason,â you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. âyou think iâm gonna forgive you this fast?âÂ
satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. âwill you?â he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.
âmaybe.â
âyou gotta stop giving me maybeâs, babyâyâre drivinâ me crazy here.â
in the past week, satoruâs done so much for you, and it hasnât gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinnerâit wasnât the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smileâby then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.
so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.
âokay,â you whisper.Â
satoruâs eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, âdoes this meanââ
you donât let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. âcâmon, make me cum,â you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths âi love youâ before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.
one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spotâwhich is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoruâs hips.Â
satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. âi knew youâd forgive me,â he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. âmâ so sorryââ
âshut up and fuck me,â you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoruâs dick.Â
âas you wish, princess.â
satoruâs breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his highâitâs so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically canât take any more.
you run your hands all over satoruâs body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch ontoâsatoruâs always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and youâre only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. âfuck, satoruââ
he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. âshoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. iâm serious.â
you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, âi know i wonât have to.â
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo smut#jjk smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n
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â PUFF , PUFF , FUCK ! â â G. SUGURU
á„«áĄ. synopsis : riding suguru while heâs high .
tags : smut, p in v, smoking, cowgirl, biting, dirty talk, all lowercase, not proofread !
a/n : sugutiva .
geto manspreads lazily against the couch with a fat blunt placed on his kiss bitten lips. his red eyes distantly travel over the expanse of your swaying body. the effects of the sativa is apparent in his hazed body language.
your eyes pick up on the way how he barely parts his mouth to sexily exhale the cloud of built up smoke. you canât stop whining; the way how his eyes are lazy but still feel so heavy on your body makes you almost numb.
he tuts when he notices you suppressing your moans and babbles. his favorite sounds.
â nahhh, donât do that now,â his voice is smooth as it travels sparks of pleasure through your bodyâ despite sounding a bit strained due to your walls continuing to clamp around him tightly. â donât hold back those pretty sounds, sweetheart. wanâa hear how cock drunk you can be.â his thumb tugs at your bottom lip thatâs caught in between your two rows of teeth. he smiles when a sharp moan tumbles out your mouth as the tip of dick constantly knocks against your sweet spot.
â suguuu, p-pleaseâ you feel sâgood!â your words come out as a jumbled slur. heâs so bulky, the stretching sensation in your pussy quickly bleeds into pleasure as your bounces on his lap quickly becomes rowdy. your thighs burn with sweet heat from the expand.
he looks at you with the slyest expressionâ akin to one of a catâs. â yeah? tell me more baby. beg for me to touch you so this filthy pussy can cum on my cock.â his hand slides around your hips to give your ass a few sharp slaps, spurring you on.
a tease is perfect word to describe getoâ he loved making you bluntly spell out what you wanted even when he knew.
â i want you to t-touch me,â
â be specific girl, thereâs many places on your body that i want to touch.â he quickly corrects you, the hand holding the once lit blunt is thrown over the back of the couch loosely as he focuses his attention on you.
you huff out before complying. â please⊠i want you to rub my clit tilâ i cum!â even to your own ears you sound quite pathetic.
but suguru thinks otherwiseâ he casually gives you a grin at your plead, giving your ass another heartfelt grab before maneuvering his hand to give your throbbing clit itâs desired attention. his thumb presses down on the bud before motioning tight circles, inflicting a noisy whine from the new wave of pleasure, leading you closer to your orgasm.
â likeee this?â he asks and you reply with new frantic moves of your hips. â mhmm.. seems like it. your practically gushing on my cock baby.â he takes in the scene with amusement.
he bites back an unusual moan from creeping out when your body slams down harsher this time, feeling your pussy rock and hold his leaking cock snuggly almost has him seeing stars. the thumb on your clit speeds as suguru throws his head back, his chest and neck a flushed sweaty mess as strands of his black hair sticks to his damp skin.
heâs growing stupid from you bouncing your pussy on him repeatedly in that hypnotic mannerâ and that sight alone almost rips your orgasm out of you.
you lean over to nip his adamâs apple, your pussy contracts when you feel his breath hitch. â fuuck, thatâs it. fuck yourself silly on me, just like that, girl.â he pauses before he lets out a shaky breathâ itâs unintentional, but his voice alone drags you into your powerful orgasm.
you force your hips to continue rocking against him while increased squelches resonates through the fuzzy room along with your combined moans. you feel sparks of electricity shoot through your limbs, your cunt squeezes more slick out, creating a translucent ring around the hefty base of his cock.
you donât get a moment to calm down from your high because suguruâs hand moves from your clit to grab your hipâ his grip boards on painfully but you donât get to dwell on it as his warm fluid paints your walls a creamy white and your mind blank.
his cum is so warm and it makes you feel full inside, he ruts his hips up erratically to make broken hiccups escape your mouth before he eventually stops.
in the aftermath you only focus on the shallow breaths and pants escaping your bodies, suguru breaks the silence. â i⊠canât feel my dick right now.â his voice is much different than before⊠more breathless. despite that, when you try to lift yourself off his hand pulls your hip down as his body shifts to grab something.
when you hear the familiar flicks of a lighter igniting, you lift your head back up to be greeted with suguru taking a final puff of the blunt, his chest whiffs up with smoke.
you watch as he keeps his chest tight, holding the sativa in his lungs, before he slightly lifts two fingers off the lighter to motion you to come forward for a kiss.
once you do, he exhales into your mouth with his hand holding your jaw tightly and you accept the wave of warmth greedily. the earthy taste hits before flooding your senses hazily and you take in all of what suguru gives you with blissful content. the effects of the suguru and the sativa makes your mind and limbs go misty.
when you part, your lips are still connected with a thin line of spit before you lap it up with a erotic smirk.
â round two?â before he can answer, your hips start to slowly wind up again.
#sugutiva.#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru x you#geto x you#geto suguru x y/n#geto x y/n#geto suguru smut#geto x reader smut#geto smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk geto#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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Noah fence but if you're going to try and sell commissions the least you could do is type properly.
#old man yells at cloud#but yeah it looks really unprofessional and like youre lazy#why would i ask someone who seems lazy to draw something for me for money
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note: Hi! I've been a little inactive, right? I've been busy, but there's always time to write something about Leon hahađ
tags: riding, unprotected sex, creampie, Leon damnation (or any older!Leon) x fem! reader.
Thinking about lazy sex with Leon.
You're on top of him, your face hidden in his neck and your hands rested on his shoulders releasing little moans into his skin. His hands held your hips, helping your movements slowly.
Leon's eyes remained narrowed and his brows furrowed in pleasure at the feel of your wet walls sliding over and over him. You two hadn't even finished removing your clothes, because his pants were down his thighs and your underwear to one side.
"Come on, pretty girl... You-ah feel so good." He murmured against your shoulder, inhaling your scent and leaving occasional kisses on your soft skin.
"Are you tired-?" he asked, a low, husky laugh escaping his lips. He looked up at you through his lashes with eyes heavy with pleasure and sleep, bringing his lips to one of your breasts moving your strappy t-shirt up, ruffling it there. He began sucking on your nipple gently, watching your reaction before he began sucking harder. He caught the tender flesh between his teeth, tugging gently. When he hears your little "huh-huh," he smiled releasing your breast with an obscenely loud 'pop.' He padded his feet on the bed and held your hips tightly, beginning to lift you up and down his cock as if you were a sex doll.
"There you go. Feels good-?" he asked again, because it was hard to control his tongue when you were clenching so tightly around him and clouding his drunken brain with the wet noise of your pussy. Low moans escaped his lips, starting to move his hips upward so he could ram you and hit that spongy spot inside you that his dripping tip was obsessed with.
Little moans from you and breathless gasps from him quickly filled the dark room lit by the red numbers marking 02:42 A.M on the little clock next to you. It wasn't often Leon would wake up so needy, but it had been days since he'd laid hands on you and his cock was already screaming for release.
"Damn. Damnit." Little curses and breathless grunts came from Leon's lips that were always flavored with the taste of your liquor. His teeth dug into your shoulder futilely, trying to silence his pathetic moans. His cock began to jerk inside you, for it no longer had the same resistance it had years before. But it didn't matter, because his calloused fingers were always there to give attention to your cute little clit. Your walls tightened around it, starting to feel that familiar sensation in your lower belly. And Leon's careless lunges only turned you on more, because you knew you were the only one who could make a man like him go all messy and dumb for your pussy.
And it's almost funny the pathetic, broken moan he lets out when your walls finally squeeze him, letting your juices splash down his thighs and abdomen creating wet sounds. Your body immediately relaxed, letting Leon continue to mindlessly fuck your brains out. And in one particular lunge, he thrusts his hips up and yours down, letting his cum explode inside you.
You heard his voice saying something, asking something. But your brain was melted, shaking on his chest trying to cope with the sensations of your orgasm and Leon's cum beginning to seep through your folds.
"Are you still with me, honey? Huh-?" he murmured, giving you that typical smile of his. And you opened your eyelids heavy with pleasure, trying to focus your gaze. You let out a little moan, realizing that Leon was settling you face down on the sheets.
"One more time. Please." He asked, settling in behind you. He pressed his chest against your back, his fingers moving to finally slide your ruined underwear down your thighs.
Because lazy sex with Leon always ended in him fucking your brains out until you fell asleep again.
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#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#leon resident evil#resident evil x reader#smut
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LOOKIN' LIKE MOTIVATION - hockey!r.c (+18)
requested by my #1 @zya4lifers
warnings: meantions of cheating; SMUT. pairing: sports physical therapist!reader x hockey player!rafe; friends to lovers.
Rafeâs day started the same way it had for the last two months: with a groan of pain that shot up from his knee and settled into his mood like a stubborn storm cloud.Â
He hated physical therapy, but what he hated more was sitting on the sidelines, watching his teammates on the ice while he was stuck on a cushioned table with resistance bands and an overenthusiastic sports medic, with hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and a pair of blue scrubs that somehow still looked cute on you.
At least that was what he thought when he first met you.Â
But two weeks in, his hatred had morphed into something else entirely, something way more complicated. He wasnât sure when it happenedâmaybe when he caught you singing quietly along with the radio while taping up his knee, or when youâd given him that first, honest-to-God smile that wasnât out of politeness but genuine amusement at some stupid joke heâd made.
And he made a lot of those.Â
Now, sitting on that same damn table, Rafe found himself looking forward to PT in a way that had nothing to do with his injury.
You walked in, clipboard in hand, looking as professional as always. It was kind of cute, the way you tried so hard to keep things strictly professional between the two of you.
Rafe knew he got under your skinâhell, he made sure of it. He could tell by the way your eyes flicked up to meet his for just a second longer than necessary before you quickly looked away. You tried to be cool, but he knew better.
âAlright, Cameron. Howâs the knee today?â
He put on his best wounded-puppy face. âTerrible. I might never skate again.â
âShut up.â
âAnd I could be better,â Rafe drawled, his lips curling into that signature smirk. âBut seeing you always helps.â
You rolled your eyes, but he saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.
âYou say that every time.â
âAnd I mean it every time,â he shot back, winking at you.
You tried to ignore him, busying yourself with adjusting the equipment. âLetâs focus on your knee, alright?â
âWhatever you say, Doc,â Rafe said, stretching out on the table with a lazy grin.
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched up. âWeâve got to work on your pain tolerance.â
He couldnât resist. âIf I didnât know any better, Iâd say you were trying to keep me on my toes.â
Finally, you looked up, your expression deadpan.
âAnd if I didnât know any better, Iâd say you were trying to avoid actually doing your therapy, Cameron.â
Touché.
He liked the way you said his nameâlike you were in control, like you were the one calling the shots.
It was refreshing.Â
The first few minutes of the session passed in relative silence as you guided him through the exercises, your hands expertly working his injured knee. Rafe winced, but it wasnât all from the pain.
It was from trying to resist the need to say something that might actually cross the line.
But resisting wasnât really his style.
âSo, whatâs your boyfriend up to this weekend?â Rafe asked, his voice casual, but his eyes keen, watching your reaction.
You werenât the kind of girl to fall for a player, especially one with a reputation like Rafeâs.
Besides, you were already with someone. Loganâthe clean-cut, dependable defenseman from a rival school. Youâd been together for over a year, and things were great.
You looked up at him, a little caught off guard.
âOut of town.â
Rafe snorted, unable to help himself. âFigures.â
You frowned, straightening up to give him a look. That look. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He shrugged, feigning innocence. âNothing.â
âHeâs busy,â you said defensively.
âToo busy for you?â he pushed, his tone dripping with faux concern. âThatâs a shame. If you were mine, Iâd make time.â
You gave him an unimpressed look, âIâm sure you would.â
âYou donât think I would?â
âI think youâve already got your hands full with the cheerleading team.âÂ
He liked to pretend you sounded jealous and not critical.Â
Rafe chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. âCheerleaders are fun and all, but theyâre not really my type.â
Okay, that was half a lie, but in his defense, he hadnât slept with anyone on the cheer squad since sophomore year in college.
You raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as you adjusted the strap on his knee brace. âAnd what exactly is your type, Cameron?â
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. âComplicated. Smart. Gorgeous.â
You didnât miss a beat, even as your pulse quickened. âSo, basically the opposite of you?â
He grinned, like a stupidly in love sick puppy, unbothered by the jab. âMaybe thatâs why I like you so much.â
You shook your head, trying to hide the smile threatening to break through. âYouâre relentless, you know that?â
âOnly when it comes to you,â he replied smoothly, his eyes locked on yours.
There was no denying the chemistry, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. But you were with someone else, someone who, despite his flaws, you cared about.
Still, Rafe made it hard to remember why you were trying to resist in the first place.
âRafe, we really should focus on your PT,â you chastised, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory.
âTrust me, mâfocusing,â he replied, his tone suggesting he wasnât talking about his knee.
You rolled your eyes, standing up straighter to put some distance between you.Â
âRight. Well, you need to focus on this next exercise. Weâre going to work on your range of motion.â
He sighed dramatically but didnât argue, watching you with a lazy smile as you moved to demonstrate the exercise.
He couldnât help but admire the way you carried yourselfâconfident, knowledgeable, and completely fucking beautiful.
It was a challenge, and Rafe Cameron loved a challenge.
As you guided his leg through the motion, your hands firm but gentle, he couldnât resist pushing a little more. âYou know, you never answered my question.â
âWhat question?â you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where this was going.
âWhat youâre doing this weekend.â
You glanced away, focusing on the movement of his knee, your fingers brushing against his skin as you adjusted the angle. âIâll probably just catch up on some work. Maybe relax.â
âSounds boring,â Rafe remarked, then adding most absolute out of pocket suggestion. âYou should let me take you out.â
You looked up sharply, caught off guard by his directness. âRafe, Iâmââ
âTaken, I know,â he interrupted, biting his tongue not to add the unfortunatelyâ. âBut that doesnât mean you canât have a little fun, does it? Just as friends.â
âJust as friends?â you echoed skeptically, knowing full well what his idea of âjust friendsâ probably entailed.
Rafe shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. âWe could get dinner, maybe hit up a bar, talk about something other than my knee for once. It doesnât have to be a big deal.â
âNo.â
His smirk faltered, just for a second, before it came back stronger, more determined. He leaned back on the table, pretending to stretch as he tried to ignore how much your rejection hurt his feelings.
"No?" he echoed, as if the concept was foreign to him.
You crossed your arms, standing straighter. "No. We both know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to happen."
"And what exactly am I trying to do?" he asked, feigning innocence with a earth shattering smirk that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.
You rolled your eyes, refusing to get drawn into his game. "You know what. Iâm here to help you with your injury, not to entertain whatever fantasy youâve got going on."
"Who says itâs a fantasy?" he shot back, his voice lowering, taking on a more serious tone that caught you off guard. "Maybe I just want to get to know you better."
You paused, searching his face for any sign of sincerity. But he was hard to read when he wanted to be. "Rafe, you're a good guy, butâ"
"Good guy?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I donât think Iâve ever heard someone describe me like that."
"Fine," you conceded with a small smile. "Maybe âgoodâ is a stretch. But youâre not as bad as you want people to think."
Rafeâs smirk faded. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and it made you hesitate, made you wonder if there was more to him than just the cocky, relentless flirt.
But before you could dwell on it, he was back to his usual self, flashing you that devil-may-care grin that made it hard to stay mad at him. "You know, Iâd actually take that as a compliment if it came from anyone else."
"Donât get too excited," you replied, trying to keep things light. "I still think youâre a pain in the ass."
"Yeah, but Iâm your pain in the ass," he teased, stupidly blinking his lashes up at you.
You shook your head, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. "You really donât give up, do you?"
"Not when it comes to something I want," he said, his voice dropping an octave.
"Cameron, this isnât going to happen. I have a boyfriend."
He shrugged, unbothered. "And? Youâre no fun. Youâre trying to kill me, arenât you?â
You handed him a water bottle, expression neutral. âYouâre just out of shape.â
âOut of shape?â He looked at her, incredulous. âDo you see this body?â
You didnât take the bait. âI see a guy whoâs been slacking off on his conditioning.â
He laughed, low and warm, as he took a sip of water. âYouâre tough. Tougher than most of the coaches Iâve had.â
You shrugged, as if it was no big deal. âSomeone has to keep you in line.â
 âLoganâs a lucky guy.â
The hockey world was small, and word got around, of course he knew his name.
âLoganâs great,â you said, a little too quickly.
Rafe nodded, his expression unreadable. âYeah, Iâm sure he is.â
He didnât push it further, though. Instead, he fell back into his usual routine of teasing and flirting.
Every time you guided his leg through a stretch or adjusted the equipment, he found his mind wandering, imagining what it would be like if things were different. If he were the one you were coming home to after a long day, if he were the one you smiled at without that guarded look in your eyes.
But you were with Logan, and as much as he hated to admit it, Rafe wasnât the kind of guy to cross that line. Not when you were clearly trying so hard to keep things professional between the two of you.
As the session wrapped up, you handed him his schedule for the next few days, âIâll see you on Thursday. Make sure you keep up with the exercises over the next couple of days, and donât overdo it.â
He took the paper from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments.
âYeah, yeah, Iâll be good,â he muttered, more to himself than to you.
âTry to stay out of trouble, okay?â
 âCanât make any promises.â
He spent the weekend bored out of his mind, thinking about youâwondering if you were with Logan, if the guy was actually smart enough to know what he had.
He hated Logan more than he hated the pain in his knee.
The guy was too perfect, too dependable, too fucking boring. And he had been praying, in a way he wouldnât admit to anyone, that something would happenâsomething that would make you see Logan for the jackass he really was. It wasnât that he thought he was a better guy; he knew his own flaws better than anyone. But he also knew that he could make you happier, make you laugh harder, make you feel things that Logan never could.
So when you walked in late to the next session, he was ready to make a joke, to tease you about finally deciding to show up.
The words died on his lips when he saw you. You werenât looking at him, not really, just muttering a half-hearted apology as you dropped your bag in the corner. But when you finally met his gaze, his chest did that stupid thing where it almost stopped. Not in a good way.
Your eyes were bloodshot red, the kind of red that came from hours of crying, from tears that wouldnât stop no matter how hard you tried. You looked exhausted, like you hadnât slept in days, and your usual spark was nowhere to be found.
His first instinct was to make a joke, to lighten the mood the way he always did, but he couldnât. Not when you looked like that.
âHey,â he said softly, his voice void of its usual cockiness. âYou okay?â
You nodded, but it was the kind of nod that was meant to shut someone up, not because you actually meant it. You were far from okay.
âYouâre late,â he said, his tone teasing, but even he could hear the concern underneath.
âI know, sorry,â you replied, your voice small, almost defeated.
Rafe frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. This wasnât like you. You were always so put together, so in control, and seeing you like this wasâŠso unsettling.
âWhat happened?â he asked, more serious now, the joking tone completely gone.
You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you busied yourself with the equipment, but Rafe wasnât going to let it go that easily. Not when he could see the pain written all over your face.
âCâmon sweetheart, whatâs going on?â he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. âDid something happen with Logan?â
The way you flinched at his name told him everything he needed to know.
Protectiveness instantly swelled inside him. Heâd always thought Logan was too good to be true, but seeing you like this confirmed it.
âDid he hurt you?â His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that he usually kept hidden from you, saved it for the ice. âBecause if he did, I swear to Godââ
âNo,â you interrupted, your voice cracking as you finally looked at him, âI mean, yes, but⊠itâs not like that.â
His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. âWhat did he do?â
You hesitated, the words trapped in your throat as you tried to hold it together. But there was no point in pretending anymore, not when Rafe was looking at you like thatâlike he actually cared, like he was ready to go to war for you if thatâs what it took.
âHe cheated,â you finally whispered, your voice trembling as the tears youâd been holding back started to spill over. âI found out through a fucking DM on Instagram. Some girl⊠she just messaged me out of the blue and told me everything. And when I confronted him, he didnât even deny it. He justâjust said it wasnât a big deal.â
Rafeâs vision blurred with red-hot anger. The kind of emotion he only felt when his team was being robbed by referees or losing.
He wanted to find Logan and beat the shit out of him for making you cry, for being stupid enough to let you go. But more than that, he wanted to make you feel better, to make the hurt go away, even if he didnât know how.
âThat fucking asshole,â He growled, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. âI swear to God, Iâllâlet me get on that ice and Iâll wipe the entire ring with his face.â
âRafe, donât,â you pleaded quickly, cutting him off. âItâs not worth it. Heâs not worth it, okay?â
His heart twisted at the broken look in your eyes, the way your voice wavered as if you didnât quite believe your own words.
âHeâs not worth you,â Rafe rebutted, stepping closer, his anger replaced by something gentler, âYou deserve better than that. Way better.â
You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. It wasnât like him to be so serious. But here he was, looking at you like you were the most important person in the world, and it made you want to cry even more.
âI donât know what I deserve anymore,â you admitted. He reached out, hesitating for just a second before he gently held your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had finally escaped.
âYou deserve someone who knows what they have when they have you,â he reassured you, his eyes locked on yours. âSomeone who would never make you cry like this. Someone who would never, ever cheat on you.â
You swallowed hard, feeling a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over at his words. âRafeâŠâ
âIâm serious,â he continued, not giving you a chance to doubt yourself again. âYouâre⊠youâre amazing, you know that? Any guy would be lucky to have you, and Loganâs a fucking idiot for not seeing that.â
You shook your head, trying to keep it together, but it was no use.
You started to cry, the kind of deep, gut-wrenching sobs that youâd been holding in all weekend. And before you knew it, you were collapsing into his arms, letting him hold you as you cried, his arms strong and steady around you.
He didnât say anything, didnât try to shush you or tell you everything was going to be okay. He just held you, his hand slowly rubbing your back as you let it all out, crying into his chest until there were no more tears left.
When you finally pulled back, your face red and puffy from crying, you only uttered a small, âThank you.â
Rafe nodded, his eyes practically glazed with love sickness as he looked down at you. âAnytime.â
And then, without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a soft, hesitant peck to his cheek, lingering for just a second before pulling away.
He blinked, a little stunned by the gesture, but before he could say anything, you stepped back.
âDo you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?â you said quickly, your voice still shaky. âIâm not sure I-â
âOf course not.â
You breathed out in relief, âThank you again. Iâll see you tomorrow.â
He wanted to tell you to stay, to tell you that it was okay to not be okay, that you didnât have to face this alone.
But he knew you needed space, needed time to process everything that had happened. He could wait. Heâd wait forever for you.
âYeah,â he said softly, nodding as you turned to leave. âTomorrow.â
He wanted to be there for you, to be the one you turned to when everything fell apart. But more than that, he wanted to be the one to put you back together again, to show you that not all guys were like Loganâthat he wasnât like Logan.
And as you disappeared down the hallway, he made a silent promise to himself: he was going to make you see that. No matter what it took.
The weeks passed, each session with Rafe seamlessly flowing into the next. What started as this totally professional thing, strictly business, slowly morphed into something way more personal. His cocky jokes and playful banter had shifted into these deep conversations that actually mattered, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself getting closer to him than you ever expected.
Rafeâs knee had healed remarkably well, and now the day had arrived: his first game back on the ice.
As it drew near, a strange sense of anxiety started to mess with your head. Your life had become so closely tied to Rafeâs recovery over the past few months that the thought of him no longer needing your helpâor your companyâleft you with an unsettling emptiness.
You were going to miss him.
You had prepared yourself for the possibility that he might distance himself once he was back on the ice. After all, athletes had their own lives, their own routines, and you were just the therapist who had helped him get to this point.
But when he invited you to his first game, the gesture came as a welcome. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, heâd slowly lurked his way into your heart.Â
It was after a particularly intense session, where youâd pushed him harder than ever before, that he brought it up. You were finishing up, wiping down the equipment while he caught his breath, stretching out his legs on the bench.
âYâknow sweetheart,â Rafe started, his voice casual but with a hint of something more in it, âIâve got my first game back tomorrow night.â
You looked up, catching the not so subtle excitement in his tone.
âYeah, Iâve heard. You must be excited.â
âNervous as hell, more like it.â He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, âItâs been a long time coming. A lot of pressure to perform, yâknow?â
You nodded, understanding him. Youâd seen how hard heâd worked, how much this comeback meant to him. âYouâll do great, Cameron. Youâre more than ready.â
He smiled at that, but there was something else in his expression, something hesitant. âI was thinkingâŠmaybe you could come. To the game, I mean. Itâd be nice to have someone there whoâs seen the whole process, who knows what it took to get back on that ice.â
You felt a warmth spread through your chest. It wasnât just the invitationâit was what it represented. He didnât just see you as the therapist whoâd helped him heal.
He saw you as someone important, someone he wanted by his side as he took this next step. A friend maybe.
 âIâd love to, Rafe. I wouldnât miss it for anything.â
Relief washed over his face, followed by a grin that was equal parts gratitude and something elseâ âGood,â he said, his voice quieter now, âbecause Iâd hate for you to miss it. Youâve been a big part of this, more than you know.â
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself blushing under his gaze.Â
âIâm just doing my job,â you shook your head, but the look in his eyes told you that he saw right through your attempt to downplay it.
âYeah, well, Iâm glad itâs you,â Rafe said, his voice earnest. âI donât think I couldâve done this with anyone else.â
The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you made it hard to breathe. This was more than just an invitation to a game. This was him telling you, in his own way, that you mattered to himâthat you were more than just his therapist, that you were someone he wanted to keep around.
âIâm glad it was me too,â you admitted, unable to keep your eyes away from his.
âTomorrow night, then.â
âTomorrow night.â
Now, as you sit in the stands, watching Rafe skate out onto the ice, you feel a nervous anticipation that has little to do with the game itself.
Just before the puck drops, Rafe catches your eye, giving you a confident wink that sends your heart racing like a school girl. He knows what this game means, not just for him, but for you as well.
Logan is there, playing on the opposite team. You havenât seen him in exactly two months. Whatever feelings you had for him disappeared the moment you found out about his betrayal, but your ego still hurts like hell.
The energy in the arena is electric, a buzz that makes his blood hum with anticipation. His first game back, and the stakes couldnât be higherânot just because of his injury, not just because itâs a rivalry match, but because Logan is on the other side of the ice. Rafeâs jaw clenches at the thought of that bastard, the memory of your tear-streaked face still fresh in his mind.
During warm-ups, he spotted Logan, skating like he didnât have a care in the world, like he hadnât just thrown away the best thing that ever happened to him. Rafeâs grip tightens on his stick, his knuckles white against the black tape. The rage simmering beneath his skin isnât just about the game. Itâs personal.
His focus is razor-sharp, every movement precise, every play calculated. But no matter how much he tries to concentrate on the game, his eyes keep drifting back to Logan, who skates circles around the ice like he owns it.
The first period passes without incident, but by the second, the tension is boiling over. Rafe feels it building, that need to do something, to break Loganâs face in half. He doesnât just want to beat him; he wants to humiliate him, to knock that smug look off his face once and for all.
Then it happens.
Midway through the second period, Logan makes a hard hit on one of Rafeâs teammates, sending the guy crashing into the boards. The hit is clean, but itâs the arrogance in Loganâs smirk that pushes Rafe over the edge.
He doesnât hesitate.Â
He skates straight at Logan, not bothering with any pretense. If Logan wants to play dirty, he is more than ready to play dirtier. Logan barely has time to react before Rafe drops his gloves, his intent crystal clear.
âYou think you can just get away with that?â He snarls, his voice low and menacing as he shoves Logan hard in the chest, the force sending him stumbling back on his skates.
Loganâs eyes flash with surprise, quickly followed by anger. âWhat the hellâs your problem, Cameron?â
He doesnât bother with a reply.Â
He swings, his fist connecting solidly with Loganâs jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone against bone is drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but Rafe doesnât care. Heâs been waiting for this moment, waiting to unleash all the pent-up anger and frustration thatâs been eating away at him since the day you walked into that PT room with your heart shattered.
Logan staggers back, his expression twisting with fury. He recovers quickly, launching himself at Rafe with a wild swing, but Rafe is ready. He dodges the punch and counters with another one of his own, this time aiming for Loganâs ribs. He can feel the impact reverberate up his arm, but itâs not enough. He wants more.
âCome on!â He shouts, face red from all the pent-up anger simmering inside him. âIs that all youâve fucking got?â
Logan grits his teeth, struggling to keep his balance. âYouâre fucking crazy, Cameron!â
âYou haven't seen shit," He spits back, landing another punch to Loganâs midsection. âBut at least I know how to treat someone right.â
Loganâs eyes widen, the realization of what this is really about dawning on him. âThis is about her? Youâre seriously going to throw down over some girl?â
Rafeâs vision goes red at the mention of you, the casual way Logan dismisses you as âsome girl.â He doesnât care that heâs going too far, doesnât care that the refs are probably going to break this up any second. All he cares about is making Logan feel a fraction of the pain he caused you.
âYou donât get to talk about her,â He growls, grabbing Logan by the collar and yanking him close. âYou donât even get to think about her.â
Logan tries to shove him off, but Rafe is relentless, landing punch after punch, each one fueled by the memory of you crying in his arms, by the way your voice trembled when you told him what Logan had done.
By now, the refs are on them, trying to pull Rafe away, but he isnât finished. Not yet.
âYou donât deserve her,â He hisses through clenched teeth, his fist connecting with Loganâs face one last time before the refs finally manage to separate them. âYou never did.â
Logan stumbles back, his face a bloody mess, and for a brief moment, he feels a little satisfaction. But it isnât enough to stop the anger, the frustration, the overwhelming need to protect you from ever being hurt like that again.
He sits in the penalty box, his chest heaving as he tries to calm the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He can barely hear the crowd over the sound of his own heartbeat, but he knows theyâre going wild. The fight has been brutal, and heâs given Logan exactly what he deserved. But as the rush of the fight starts to fade, he starts to overthink: how will you react?
The game ends with a hard-fought win for his team, but the victory feels hollow. As his teammates celebrate on the ice, Rafeâs thoughts are miles away, fixated on you. What if youâre pissed? What if you think heâs overstepped?
After the final whistle, he makes his way to the locker room, his mind racing. Heâs about to strip off his gear when he hears footsteps approaching, quick and determined. Before he can even turn around, the locker room door flies open, and there you are, marching straight toward him with a look on your face that he canât quite read.
Shit. Youâre mad.
âHey, listen,â he starts, his voice low and uncertain as he holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. âI know that mightâve looked bad out there, but I swearââ
You donât let him finish. Instead, you grab the front of his jersey and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips against his with a force that takes him completely off guard.
His mind goes blank as all he can focus on is the way your mouth moves against his. Itâs like nothing heâs ever felt beforeâraw, heated, desperate.
His hands instantly find your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you flush against him, the heat of your bodies mingling in the small space between you. Your kiss is wild, all tongues and teeth, and when you bite down on his bottom lip, hard enough to make him groan, he realizes this is real.
Youâre kissing him.
âFuck,â he gasps against your mouth, his voice ragged with need. But you donât give him a chance to catch his breath, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving with a feverish intensity that makes his head spin.
You break away just long enough to breathe, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, âYouâre such a fucking idiot.â
The way you say it, half-growled, half-breathed, sends a shiver down his spine, and he canât help the sound that escapes him, somewhere between a moan and a groan. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to keep control, but you arenât making it easy.
You press yourself even closer, your body flush against his as you kiss him again, harder this time, more demanding. Your tongue sweeps into his mouth, claiming him, and Rafe is more than happy to let you take the lead. Heâs never felt anything like this beforeâthis urgency, this hunger that makes him want to lose himself in you completely.
You tug on his hair, tilting his head back to give yourself better access, and Rafe nearly loses it right then and there. He can feel his self-control slipping, can feel the primal need to devour you taking over, but he doesnât care. All he can think about is how badly he wants you, how desperately he needs to feel more of you.
When you pull back, your lips are swollen and glistening, your breathing just as ragged as his. You stare at him, your eyes dark with lust, and Rafe feels his heart hammering in his chest, each beat echoing with the desire pulsing through him.
âBeen waiting for over an hour to do that,â you breathe.
Rafeâs hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine as he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. When he reaches the curve of your ass, he doesnât stop. His fingers grip you there, kneading the soft flesh with a pressure that makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips instinctively pressing against his.
âThen do it again,â he murmurs, âDo whatever the hell you want to me.â
His hands are everywhere, sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts before moving back down to cup your ass again, pulling you even closer against him. You can feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your thigh, and it sends a wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You want himâmore than you ever wanted anyoneâand the way heâs looking at you tells you he feels the same.
Rafe lets out a low, almost guttural sound as you rock your hips against him, the pressure making him tighten his grip on you, holding you in place as he grounds himself against you. The sensation makes your breath hitch, a needy whimper escaping your lips that only spurs him on.Â
âFucking idiot,â you whisper again, your voice rough with desire as you nip at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth before soothing the bite with your tongue.Â
His reaction is immediate. He groans, a sound so deep and full of need that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hands flex against you, his fingers digging into your flesh as if heâs trying not to loseg control completely.
 But you can feel itâthe way heâs trembling, the way his breath is coming in harsh, uneven pants against your neck. He kisses you again, hard and desperate, his mouth moving against yours with a fervor that matches the wild pounding of your heart
But just when you think you canât take it any longer, the sound of footsteps echoes outside the door, snapping you both back to reality. You pull back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, your mind spinning with the intensity of what had just happened. Heâs just staring at you, his eyes glazed with desire, his lips swollen and red from your kisses. He looks as wrecked as you feel, and it takes everything in you not to drag him back down for more.Â
But you know you shouldnât. Not here. Not now.
Except thereâs no fucking way Rafe is letting you go now. He doesnât say a word. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and filled with a raw need that makes your breath catch.Â
He doesnât ask; doesnât need to. Heâs done waiting, done pretending he can hold back.Â
Without another word, he pulls you toward the locker room, his grip firm and unyielding as he leads you through the maze of benches and lockers. Your heart races as he pushes open the door to the showers, the sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The room is empty, the air thick with steam, and the second you step inside, heâs pouncing on you. Clothes are gone in the blink of an eye.
He presses you up against the cold tile wall, his body flushes against yours as his lips find yours again, hands running over your wet skin. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone as he kisses, licks, and nips at your sensitive skin. You whimper, fingers threading through his hair as he drops to his knees in front of you, his lips trailing down your stomach.Â
The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of the hot water and his hot mouth on your skin driving you insane. "If you donât-" your voice trembles with need as he spreads your thighs apart, âFuck.âÂ
He looks up at you, âYeah, thatâs what I thought.âÂ
His hands grip your hips firmly. Without another word, he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sudden, intense pleasure makes you cry out, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he licks and sucks, his tongue working you over with a skill that leaves you gasping for breath. Itâs not fair.Â
This man canât possibly be real. The water splashes against your back, masking the sounds of your moans as he takes his time, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every swirl of his tongue. Your body trembles, your legs barely able to hold you up as he pushes you higher, his hands tightening on your hips as he holds you in place.
 "Oh my god," you moan, your voice breaking as you feel the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. He doesnât stop, doesnât let up until you are crying out his name, your body shuddering as your orgasm crashes over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure rips through you.
Rafe keeps his mouth on you, drawing out your release until you are trembling, your legs shaking as you struggle to catch your breath.Â
Truth is, he doesnât want to stop. He canât get enough now that he has finally gotten a taste. He stands back up, his hands running up your sides as he kisses you again, the taste of you still on his lips. You can feel him, hard and ready against your stomach, and it only drives you crazier. Of course, this man had to be fucking huge.Â
Without breaking the kiss, he spins you around, pressing you against the wall as his hands grip your hips, pulling them back slightly. You brace yourself against the tile, your body arching as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.Â
"Oh Rafe," you groan out his name, your voice low and needy and he growls softly in response, his breath hot against your ear as he slowly pushes inside you, filling you inch by inch until he is buried to the hilt.
Rafe nearly passes out from the sight. Watching himself disappear inside you has to be his favorite sight in the entire world.Â
âSo fucking pretty.â The feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely, is almost too much to bear, and you let out a long, low moan as he begins to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that drives you wild. The water cascades over your bodies as he thrusts into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you with a steady, unrelenting rhythm.Â
Each thrust pushes you harder against the wall, the cool tile a pleasing contrast to the heat between you. You can barely think, barely breathe, lost in the sensation of Rafe moving inside you, his cock hitting all the right spots with every thrust. The sound of the water mixed with the wet slap of skin against skin, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to consume you.
 "God, you feel so fucking good," He groans, his voice rough with desire as he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear.
 "Faster," you gasp, your voice pleading as you push back against him, needing more, needing everything. He doesnât hesitate. His pace quickening, his thrusts coming harder and faster as he drives you both toward the edge. The intensity of it is overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as he fucks you with a raw, desperate need that matches your own. Just when you think you couldnât take any more, you heard footsteps outside the shower, followed by a voice calling out.Â
"Cameron? You in here, man?" Rafe freezes, his body tense, his cock still buried deep inside you as he glances toward the door, his breath ragged.Â
"Yeah, Iâm here," he calls back, trying to keep his voice steady, though you could hear the strain in it.Â
"Weâre heading downtown to the bar. You coming?"
He looks down at you, all too pleased with himself, "Not tonight," he replies, his voice thick with lust. "Got something else to take care of."Â
Thereâs a pause, then a chuckle from the other side of the door. "Alright, man. Have fun."
 The footsteps retreat, and the moment the door closes, heâs moving again, thrusting into you with a renewed urgency, the near-interruption only heightening the intensity of the moment. You moan loudly, your body quaking as he drives into you with a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending you spiraling closer and closer to another orgasm.
The combination of the heat, the steam, the feel of Rafe fucking you so hard is too much, the almost getting caught. You feel yourself losing it, your entire body tightening as you reach the edge once again.
 "Come for me," He growls, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you are sure there will be bruises tomorrow. His words push you over, and you cry out as your orgasm tears through you, your body convulsing around him as the pleasure crashes over you in waves.
Rafe follows right behind you, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he comes, his body shuddering as he fills you to the brim with a low, guttural groan.Â
For a long moment, neither of you move, both of you panting, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all. The water continues to pour over you, washing away the evidence of your encounter as you slowly come down from the high.Â
Finally, he pulls out, turning you around to face him as he cups your face in his hands, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender kiss thatâs so different to the rough, desperate way he just fucked you.
 "Youâre a fucking idiot," you whisper against his lips, a small, breathless laugh escaping you.Â
He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked down at you, drowning in affection. "Yeah, but Iâm your fucking idiot."
He was fighting every fucking player on that ice ring if it meant having you again.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#hockey!rafe
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Can I please get the aftermath of a fight with Hotch? Maybe theyâre both stressed after a particular case and things got a little heated?
ty for requesting !! fem, 1k
You hate when Hotch shouts.Â
Morose, you lay in a slouch on the couch with your hand between your face and the armrest, knuckles aching from the pressure. Youâre attempting to self soothe, but your misery is worsened by your own ministrations, your thumb a useless thing on your cheek. You canât do it like Hotch can. Thereâs no second meaning.Â
You assume him to be in the kitchen where you left him.Â
Nobody likes to fight, but you think you might be the most unwilling participant for any argument with him. Heâs patient, and mellow-headed the majority of the time, so when he does get heated you canât help thinking youâve done something really awful.
You get the worst of worries sitting there. That youâre too much effort for him, that you donât fit. That heâs going to realise these things and cut you loose.Â
Your tears are lazy. Your shoulders shudder with your breathing, but there isn't a sound to them, just heat where they well at the corner of your eye and drip over your nose. You sniffle, pressing the back of your hand to your top lip.Â
Itâs cold in the living room. Immediately hotter when Hotch sits down beside you. You lift your head on instinct, surprised at his sudden presence, tears jolting down your cheeks like flash floods. When you realise itâs him and what youâre doing, you turn your face back to the armrest with held breath.Â
He hesitates for a moment.
âPlease donât be mad at me,â you mumble.Â
He drapes himself over your contorted frame. Arm weaving under your stomach, face pressing firmly to the nape of your neck, his right hand on your shoulder. âDonât cry,â he says, hand working into your tense shoulder blade lovingly, his thumb drawing lines. âDonât cry.âÂ
âAre you still angry?âÂ
âNo,â he says, his voice ladened with a light sincerity, âIâm not angry.âÂ
You feel like heâs holding back. Upset again, you attempt to find his hand where itâs cupping the space just below your chest and hold it weakly, smaller fingers on his, looking for a better forgiveness. It doesnât come. You cry so much it starts to make you feel sick, and concern your weary partner, his frown getting deeper where itâs pressed to your neck.Â
âIâm not mad,â he says quietly. âIâm sorry for yelling, honey, is that whatâs upset you?âÂ
You just hate the idea that he could feel against you. Itâs like a mixture of regret, anger, and now frustration, because you hadnât wanted to cry at all, much less be comforted. Although, admittedly, the comforting is holding you together.Â
âCome on,â he says, kissing your cheek between words, âletâs sit up before you hurt your back.âÂ
He sits back and pulls at your arm until you're sitting upright on the sofa. Your gaze falls to your legs, your hand curled uselessly on your thigh, your tears slowly pooling and falling in succession. You scrunch your face up as another wave of misery hits you.Â
âIâm s-sorry,â you say.Â
âFor what?â he asks, far less emotional than you, and yet not completely stony, either.Â
âI didnât mean to cry.â You bring your hand to your face to wipe at your tears and runny nose, irked, not wanting him to see you.Â
âItâs okay,â he murmurs.
Hotch leans down to kiss your shoulder, which works to calm you down. Another kiss to your neck and your horrible cloud of emotion starts to clear.Â
He canât hate you if heâs kissing you.Â
âIâm sorry I made it a fight,â Hotch says, âI never would have if I thought youâd get this upset.âÂ
âWe canât not fight just because I might cry.âÂ
âThatâs exactly why we shouldnât. I never want to make you cry.âÂ
âI hate when youââ You cut yourself off, the confession sure to make you look small.Â
âWhat?â he prompts gently.
âI hate when you yell becauseâ because you never do.âÂ
Heâd only raised his voice for a few words, and it hadnât been to your discredit, heâd been telling you to leave it alone. Perhaps if heâd been insulting you it would make sense for you to cry this much, but yelling is part of any argument. You canât work out why itâs affected you.Â
âI feel so stupid,â you confess.Â
âIâm sorry, honey,â he says, wrapping his arm behind your back to pull you flush to his side, âI donât know how it got so out of hand. Youâre never stupid, Iâm just stubborn. I shouldnât shout.âÂ
You twist to be facing him. He frowns at your wet cheeks.Â
âDo you want to kiss and make up?â you ask tentatively.Â
Hotch doesnât roll his eyes or laugh at your question âhe can tell youâre being serious. âCan we?â he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand.Â
He rubs a loving line into the side of your face, and every tight string in you is cut. You kiss him quickly, worried itâll be a bad one, but find yourself encouraged for a longer one by his hand, your eyes squeezed closed in stress relaxing the longer it goes on. Heâs gentle with you, his lips parting atop yours.Â
He pulls away. You hide your face in the curve of his neck.Â
âCan you forgive me for being cruel?â he asks quietly.Â
âYouâre not cruel, Aaron. I hate being on a different side from you, thatâs all.âÂ
His first name makes all the difference to him. He sneaks a couple of kisses into your temple and begins to relax as you have, two sad lumps on the couch who only want the comfort of the other.Â
You rub loving lines up and down his side, finally feeling better as he breathes his own sigh of relief.Â
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