#and the ones i can think of off the top of my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heavenbarnes · 20 hours ago

Text

older bf!simon is always the one in control so sometimes i need to write him pathetic! (afab!reader described as wearing a dress and heels)

there’s an alternative universe out there where you make older bf!simon work for it

“i’m sorry i didn’t come back w’you that night”

he was embarrassed, his cheeks were pink and he was missing the balaclava that usually hid all changes in expression

but he’d managed to turn up on your doorstep to ply you with apologies and he looked so sweet dwarfing your lounge suite

“it’s alright, simon - i don’t mind the wait”

“it’s not that i didn’t want ye’, promise, i just-”

he cut himself off, let the words hang like ripe fruit that you didn’t even have to pick to know how sweet they taste

instead, you bridged the small gap across the couch and let your hand fall on his shoulder

“it’s okay, i know it can be a bit overwhelming”

he sighed a shaky wee exhale like it felt really nice to be understood, if not totally terrifying all the same

“ye’ don’t know how bad i wanted to, ye’ looked so bloody good”

you snorted a little breath through your nose, running your fingernails along the top of his shoulder

“i know”

he let the silence take over the room, you knew good and well there was something he wanted so badly to say

and you’d wait a lifetime just to hear him beg

“can ye’ please tell me”

it was so quiet, you could’ve missed it

but you didn’t

“tell you what?”

wait a lifetime

“tell me what’d you’d have done if we’d gone back there”

your lips curled in a smile, something wicked and heady

something that said you’d struck gold

ease him in

slow and steady

“i’d sit you back in the chair, put you right where i wanted you”

even through his shirt, you could feel his skin prickle as you ran your nails towards his chest

“i’d take off those heels, the ones you’d been staring at all night”

as much as you’d expected him to go rigid, you could feel him melting beside you

“i’d reach for the back of my dress, undo it so it just slips off my shoulders and let it pool on the floor around my ankles”

“run my hands up my chest, over my perfect tits, the ones you’d also been staring at”

simon’s breath caught him in his chest, your fingers running over his pec where you lightly traced the smallest lines

“pinch my nipples, show you how hard they were, how hard they’d been since i first saw you”

his eyes screwed closed, a deep breath expanding his in chest under your touch

“really, since i first knew you’d be there that night”

“then i’d turn around, put my back to you, and slip my fingers under the band of my little panties”

simon fought to pry his eyes open, darting straight to your fingers

he knew a look in your eyes was a death wish

“they’re so little, simon, honestly i could’ve probably torn them with a fingernail”

and you might just kill him anway

“you definitely could’ve”

there it was

like he’d tried to keep it in, a broken moan slipped from his throat- between the lips he was worrying with his teeth

“but i’d slide them down my legs, bend over so you could see them fall, and i’d turn around so you could get a good look, see my perfect little cunt”

“soft, warm, tight, and wet”

simon had been half hard since you’d opened the door

now? he thought the rush of blood might knock him out

“wet since you first placed your hand on my back when you were being all polite”

it was like he could still feel where his hand had been, like he’d never had the chance to hold something so soft

“you’d be able to smell it on my panties, so i’d hand them to you”

simon was acutely aware of the way your hand was slowly drifting down the firm lines of his stomach

“tell you to keep those, you could sniff them, lay them on your face when you’re tugging that thick cock and thinking of me”

in his lap, you ran your fingers along his thigh until they wrapped around his cock

“maybe taste them a little, or even wrap them around your cock”

his hips shot up, straight into your hand as he tipped his head back onto the couch

a pathetic whine ripped straight from his chest

“cum all over them, ruin them and give them back to me when you inevitably see me again”

you slowly ran your fingers along the length of him

rock fucking solid

“and i could give you your next pair”

you slowed down, gently stroking him through his trousers as his breathing evened out

couldn’t have you stopping his poor heart

he was the first to break

“then what?”

that smile crept back onto your face, catching the sight of his strained expression

it’s the devil you know

“hmm, i think i’d sit in your lap”

his thighs tensed, involuntarily but bordering on inviting

“feel that hard cock that’s been straining in your briefs”

squeezing it again, through two layers you could feel the small patch of wetness spreading under your thumb

“you might be older than me but you’re not too old, are you?”

he could hear the teasing in your voice, running a large hand down his face

dirty old bastard

“rub my hot wet little cunt all over your trousers, make a mess all over them”

simon’s hips were rolling under your hand, pushing the length of his cock up into your palm

clipped breath and tight chest

you didn’t have to be a genius to know what comes next

“got to ease you into it, know it’s been a long time since you got yourself into something this tight, don’t want you blowing your top”

his breaths became vocal, the quietest little whimpers told you exactly where you had him

right on the precipice

his hand wrapped tight around your wrist as he all but humped your hand

you let go

“just yet”

#THIS IS RANDOM #but touch starved simon my beloved!#also sorry reader has afab/fem characteristics!#it was me in my head 😔 and simon was steve buscemi 😔#guys i hope you like it anyways #older bf!simon #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

185 notes · View notes

keferon · 4 hours ago

Text

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

------------

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

---------------------------

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

#maccadam #tf mecha universe #mecha writing #mecha kef writing #mecha bs writing #mecha cbc writing #Blurr #Swindle #Onslaught #Vortex #Brawl #Blast Off #this one is kinda Swindle centric #I just wanted to give more context for his friendship with Blurr:)#Also some Vortex lore

181 notes · View notes

fee224 · 2 days ago

Text

Boy meets girl.

Rafe Cameron x overlooked!reader

You were one of six, all girls. You were the youngest and because of that, everyone presumed you didn’t understand the adult jokes, you didn’t know what sex was and you only had grades and your puppies feeding schedule on your mind and all of that was true until july 14th when rafe Cameron noticed you.

~You were at the bar of the golf club, explaining to charge you’re lemonade to ‘Wilson’. You were sat with your mother and two sisters, Campbell and lilah, no more than four tables away. As the man infront of you searched for a Wilson name, you’re back felt a pair of eyes staring, you turn back discreetly noticing a muscley boy, in a polo and shorts, he looked like spring time and you quickly turned back embarrassed, flicking your attention to sucking on your straw. “Hey! You can’t drink that, I don’t see a Wilson and you need to pay misses!”

Your cheeks flamed in heat “I- I don’t know how, my dads been a member for so many years mayb-” you were cut short by a deep voice behind you “put it on this card” he slid the black Amex, brushing You’re bare arm peeking from summer dress.

You scrunched your nose turning around “thank you but that’s really not necessary, my family is jus” he had to look down to listen to you, and he tilted his head slightly “shh, don’t worry about it”

Your eyes drifted from the tall boy to his friends at the doorway behind you, watching intently and laughing. You weren’t aware how much more you could flush, not feeling like the brunt of the joke “ignore them” he didn’t have to look back to know what I was reddening about this time.

“Okay” you muttered softly, “you have a name Wilson?” He reached behind you, to grab his card and your head bows “Yeah… y/n” you brush a rogue hair behind your ears as he nods and slips the card into his back pocket. “Rafe” he smiles softly.

“That’s a nice name” you play with your fingers at a poor attempt of keeping a conversation or making a friend. “Really? You think so” he smiled resisting the urge to tilt you chin up and tell you to look at him when you talk to him.

You nodded slowly as you look behind him to the table you were previously sat at, the three women sat, in deep conversation, without a care of your absence. You gulp looking back up at the boy.

“I better go back” you utter reaching behind you for your half gone drink. As you turn around rafe is staring at your table “I don’t think they know you’re gone, you could keep talking to me” he scratched the back of his head as you held your glass with both hands. “I- I’d like too but-“ and suddenly the quiet spell had hit you, words unable to top off your tongue as you made eye contact and your lips parted dumbly.

“You have a number? I can call you, then you can keep talking that pretty mouth to me, huh?” He smirked at your reaction as you placed the glass back down. “Okay…” your flip phone was left in your purse back at the table but you had an odd photographic memory. He passed his phone as you nimbly tapped in your number and then passed it back wordlessly.

“Thanks” he bowed his head down, grinning ear to ear as his friends shook their heads, now seated at a booth. “You’re welcome” you spoke, regretting your words immediately, for no reason at all and waddled back to your table. Next to Campbell you sat, eyes drifting to your new friend every few seconds who went between drinking and speaking to the two boys surrounding him, he was now frowning.

Your breath hitched as he smirked when he caught you looking, your sisters turning to see what’s the matter with you as you stirred your lemonade in shame with your head plastered to the table.

- fee xxx

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #drew starkey #outer banks #obx fic #obx fanfiction

150 notes · View notes

skiagraphe0 · 9 hours ago

Text

The fact that Tiana knows Facilier as 'the Shadowman' and says it like a title when Naveen first tells her about having met him tells me that Facilier has a reputation. I think, at some point, he was successful, and probably had a decent level of income. You have to be pretty prominent as a criminal for people who don't follow crime to know your name, and you have to be a very prominent psychic/fortune teller for people who don't mess with that to know you. The only IRL psychic I can name off the top of my head is one who scammed thousands of people.

Facilier is black. (Mixed race, probably; purple eyes and a French surname hint at that.) The world was not kind to him given the era. I think at some point he, like Tiana, had doors slammed in his face due to his race. He may have tried honest work, but that honest work didn't get him anywhere. The game of life was rigged against him. And so the thought occurred to him: it's not wrong to cheat if your opponent is cheating, too.

That he managed to bungle his profits badly enough to end up this deep in debt makes him more human than most Disney villains. Facilier has a spending problem. It's the only way for him to simultaneously be this well known and also this broke.

He responded to the world kicking him while he was down by going, "Hard work hardly works. Fine. Let's see what other options there are." It's not that he never tried. You don't get that bitter without trying and failing, and you don't get at big as he is without some talent and charisma. Whatever he tried, it didn't fail on its' own merits, or he wouldn't ask Lawrence, "Aren't you tired of living on the margins while all those fat cats in their fancy suits don't give you so much as a sideways glance?" That screams 'wealthy white people screwed me over/didn't give me a chance'. As does the seething look he gives Big Daddy when he sees him initially.

When he briefly traps Tiana in an illusion, he does two things that make me think he did actually try hard in the past. He compliments her work ethic, and it doesn't sound like sarcasm. Then he points out to her that her father's work ethic, which he also compliments, didn't work.

The closest he ever comes to victory isn't done with deceit. It's just done with the blunt, awful truth: for a lot of people, hard work hardly works. He didn't have long to pick an illusion to construct or go with. He went with this because it resonated with him, personally. It seemed like the best option because it made sense to him on a personal level as an argument. He didn't put her or her father down as foolish for working hard or argue with her that it was dumb. If anything, he sounds like he admires Tiana's dad for being both hardworking and a good family man.

His argument was simply that it wouldn't be successful to keep working hard in a world that has never rewarded that as a virtue.

He's speaking from experience.

You know what’s great about Dr. Facilier?

He’s the perfect villain opposite both Tiana and Naveen.

He’s not exactly like Jafar or Ursula, who know they’re evil and delight in it as like, a lifestyle. He’s more like Scar. He’s introduced getting money on the street through cons and feeling satisfied…until Big Daddy LeBouf drives by with all his money and makes him feel insignificant.

You get the idea that something in life made him this way—there was a beginning to his villainy. You don’t get that sense from like, Clayton or Gaston.

So he’s a relatable character with flaws, to an extent.

But those flaws specifically play off of Tiana and Naveen’s characterizations.

Tiana has no real respect from her peers—she is in a position to be jealous of Lottie the same way Facilier is jealous of the Cotton King. But where Tiana simply works hard and refuses to let others make her bitter, Facilier has clearly taken shortcuts. Or…”the easy way.”

Then there’s Naveen.

Naveen has no thought beyond the present; he thinks they’re “on this earth to have some fun,” and frequently jumps without looking at the consequences. Leaps without looking! Doesn’t stop to find out if the girl he’s kissing is a real princess even though he knew his original invitation was to a costume party, forgets that he’s supposed to be getting married and plans on continuing his playboy lifestyle, wanders into a shadow-man’s shop. But eventually he learns to open his eyes to what’s important, and what will last, in Tiana. And he takes that seriously; if he marries her instead of Charlotte, he has to get three jobs.

Facilier, on the other hand? He not only does the opposite of Tiana and has taken shortcuts to get where he is—but he also suffers from Naveen’s flaw; he keeps making what are basically get-rich-quick schemes with his “friends on the other side.” When we meet him, he’s stressed and certainly on edge about failing—but that doesn’t stop him from asking for more and more debt from the demons, and he basically goes to his grave still making promises he can’t keep…like Naveen’s promise he couldn’t keep to pay Tiana for kissing him.

He’s got Tiana’s focus and Naveen’s charisma. He’s got Tiana’s lofty goals and Naveen’s dependence on others to do his dirty work.

He’s exactly like Tiana and Naveen put together, aged about twenty years, but with none of their good qualities. Perfect villain for those two main characters.

But he’s also the opposite of Mama Odie.

He entices innocents with what they want while she lights their way by explaining what they need.

He wants total control, while she’s satisfied with simply giving advice and sending people on their way.

He directly transforms his victims, while Mama Odie shows Tiana and Naveen how to work toward their transformation on their own. I mean, you guys noticed that she could have done it for them, right?

But she doesn’t, because she’s the symbol of that Disney Faith-Based morals: you act on what you know is true instead of taking the easy way to what you want. Facilier does the opposite: he promises to give you the easy way to what you want, and tries to tell you why you should accept his deals—but his reasons are all lies.

That’s how you write a villain, ladies and gentlemen.

#The Princess and the Frog #Disney

1K notes · View notes

qoldenskies · 2 days ago

Note

It feels like Donnie always has a bundle of nerves. While Leo seems to have a more chill attitude. At least on the outside.

So I kind of write them like that.

One example I can think of on top of my head is Mant Unhappy Reminders.

Where Leo says to everyone to trust him, but it seems to the others that he is not taking it seriously. But had a plan, but does not communicate it.

Comparatively, when Donnie faced the Shredder, at least in the stadium. He was the only one who was shaking like a leaf. And teeth chattering.

He had a moment when he said “Eat science,” scene. But when that didn't work, he kind of just started having a breakdown and crying. And such.

Also, when the Shredder returns, I think Donnie might have froze.

when shredder broke his tech his first instinct was to scream and flee!! honestly i cant tell if his tech-bo activated on its own or not but regardless that was what saved his life and he didn't expect it to, and pretty much the SECOND shredder gets knocked away from him he collapses. im also thinking about minotaur maze when his first instinct is to scream for help repeatedly when he's in a life-or-death situation, its very telling

(also actually when people do post many unhappy returns fics nobody ever acknowledges that donnie also got the SHIT beaten out of him in end game when the others didnt because he was holding off draxum from the front??? like he's visibly super fucked up afterwards??? guys you could use this if youre treating their injuries realistically anyway, especially with the added angst of him having to fight all day after even though he was already pretty banged up)

(donnie being in the front lines in end game to distract draxum.... ok canary)

donnie is VERY vocal when he's afraid and his confidence is very easily shaken when he fails on the field, i think he's shown to have to fall down and just breathe through it after close calls when the others dont. he's very jumpy, unexpected loud noises freak him out, he freezes when he's out of immediate danger etc etc. he's not someone who hides it while leo usually does. leo feels like he has to be strong for his family, while donnie doesnt.

like lol leo locks tf in and focuses on the field when things get life-or-death (also very apparent in the fight with the kraang, where despite being under the threat of death he's focused enough to make split-second decisions, the line about missing on purpose!!) and donnie panic and freaks out LMAO (jumping in front of mikey to take the hit was completely instinctual by contrast! if he had leo's kind of focus he probably would have made something a lot more structured than that split second shield; donnie's ninpo reflects it well, he needs time to prepare before he jumps in while leo can think quickly)

#ask #rottmnt #raph and donnie got that shared trait of not being able to handle sudden pressure well love them for that

167 notes · View notes

curlyfriesgalore · 1 day ago

Text

headcanons of a

hibiscus-loving boy ♡

☆ requested by anon — my daisuke headcanons.

★ a long sfw & nsfw headcanons list with one-shot segments of solo! daisuke scenarios to start off the new year 🥳.

☆ gen tags: fem! reader but reader isn't in his life (yet). the sfw takes place on earth and the tulpar, while all the nsfw is on the tulpar. before the crash (except it is mentioned in one headcanon). daisuke & his relationship with his parents. daisuke is single but very much wishes he could mingle. bits of silly stuff because it is daisuke, after all. someone please date him already... swansea is so sick of listening to him rave about "hot babes."

★ nsfw tags MDNI: malesub. dry humping objects. semi-public masturbation. daisuke uses a vibrator & flesh-light individually. mommy kink (as expected) and puppy kink (only mentioned though). lots of yearning for his dream girl and fantasies of women in general. (could it be you? 🫣)

[anon, thank you so much and i hope you liked this! on another note, i'm working on a long fluffy daisuke x reader oneshot, so you guys will get that wholesome content eventually. —iris🌠]

sfw.

★ earth.

this isn't a set headcanon of mine, but i like to think that daisuke is a japanese and filipino man who grew up in hawaii but doesn't go home to his respective countries often. when he does, it's always a long catch-up with his large extended family, whom he misses dearly.

he gives off the energy of a single child solely raised by his first-generation immigrant parents, both of whom want the best for daisuke's future but struggle to show that in a constructive manner.

he has a relatively solid relationship with them, and their arguments are still within the realm of what is expected of families. however, there's a degree of emotional distance between him and his parents, especially with his mom who's a bit firmer on daisuke's education than his dad, who still cares about it just as much, but he's more reserved compared to his wife—the outspoken of the two.

with how they both work full-time and how he grew up with a vastly different upbringing from them, daisuke doesn't feel as close to his parents as he thinks he should. sometimes, they don't understand him, like his incessant love for thrifting and doodle-drawing, and sometimes, he can't understand them, like their insistence on getting him into an ivy league college when a public university works just fine (according to him).

daisuke is much more fluent in tagalog than he is in japanese, which his mom pesters him to study more, fearing that he'll struggle to pass down his knowledge of her lineage to his future kids properly.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"tch, and how will they know how to speak to their obaachan, hah? it's not that hard to practice every morning, dai-dai." his mom sighs, one hand clutching the strap of her kinkachu bag while the other held a bottle of olive oil.

daisuke withheld a groan, grumbling to himself before responding, "i knowww, ma, i know. i'm just busy, okay?" his forearms fold over the trolley's handle, bringing his chin to rest on top of them.

she glares, "busy playing with your gameboy? you call that busy?"

without consciously intending to, he rolls his eyes, then swiftly snaps them back in place. cringing at himself as he purses his lips, a pathetic whisper of sorry leaves his clenching teeth.

before he knows it, his mom is scoffing. she squints at him with her brows furrowed, her gaping mouth quirking to one corner, and shakes her head in disbelief, bee-lining to the next thing on their grocery list.

"eh?! mama, i didn't mean to!" daisuke quickly splurges a cacophony of apologies as he pushes the cart, trying to keep up with his mom.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

other than that, his parents genuinely love him, as much as they begrudgingly listen to his endless rambles which they barely understand because of how all over the place his retellings can be.

daisuke always finds ways to interject his current story with another story that relates to the initial story, which he must explain in excruciating detail, or else they won't get the references he'll make when he continues the first story! so they just sigh and nod their head. (it's even worse for his dad when daisuke starts using english slang that's far too modern for his head to translate in real-time).

his parents have considered a second child. however, the financial burden, emotional weight, and physical pain from vaginal burns or cesarean scars that they'd have to repeat were too much. one sugar-charged chatterbox of a kid was enough for their lifetime.

daisuke wasn't always sure about what he wanted to do in life. his mind had always been glued to his dreams of traveling beaches around the world, flirting with pretty girls with a piña colada in hand, sifting through vintage pieces, and finding a girlfriend who loves him enough to want to do the same! but even then, he didn't know how to get to that point. of course, the simple answer was money, but how he'll get that money was what spun at the forefront and lingered at the back of his mind.

though, this is daisuke we're talking about, he's sure this'll work out one way or another!

"girls like smart guys, right?" he'd ask himself as he browsed through a leaflet listing all the STEM subjects his mom had circled in neon red ink. daisuke's eyes drift to the arts and humanities page, wincing at the sheer lack of majors highlighted on that side—it was next to none. save for architecture, which his mom suggested he should try because of his drawing hobby, but, truth be told, it was just a hobby for him.

he loved the freedom of art, especially doodling. it was a space for him to explore whatever wacky design popped into his mind. he'd look at a simple object, darting his eyes to several others, and merge it all into a story of sorts. whether it be a turtle-pig fishing for sentient crackers on a wooden boat or an intergalactic wasteland where sweets colonized spices, it was his favorite pasttime. so, the possibility of having that be ruined by conforming to another person's rules and regulations wasn't for him.

he once suggested studying fashion. assorting clothing pieces, designing looks, and learning its history was a genuine passion of his, but one look at his parents' faces was enough for him to quickly drop it.

daisuke has fixed cars in the past—not fully, but he's helped his dad and a couple of neighbors for some extra dough, and has managed to learn a thing or two.

he was pretty good at math and physics, preferring the latter of the two because he actually got to apply that math into scenarios much more interesting than 'find the radius of a hemisphere of volume 80 cm^3.'

so, when daisuke's mom learns of pony express' last-minute aerospace mechanic internship, she's ecstatic, excitedly telling him to prepare his resume because her son is going to space! after all, her boy got the brains for it.

daisuke genuinely looked forward to this opportunity as well. however, funnily enough, he was terrified of outer space. though he was weirdly okay with the unknown depths of the ocean, the galaxy? that was a different story. at least, if he were drowning in the sea, there was a higher chance of him surviving than choking out in space. he shivered at the thought.

nonetheless, daisuke focused on the positives. "holy shit, what if there are alien beaches with hot ALIEN babes?!"

however, his cv wasn't all that impressive by pony express' standards. so, out of sheer desperation, his mom used a couple of her connections to secure that spot for him, but daisuke doesn't know about this. he thinks his smarts alone got him the job.

she's so adamant about his education because she fears for him, like any parent would. she doesn't want daisuke to suffer financially the same way her and her husband did growing up—it was her nightmare, actually. so, hopefully, with enough prayer and preparation, this will benefit him greatly. (oh... if only she knew).

before his space trip, daisuke's dad treated them all to a 5-day family holiday out in california, letting daisuke choose most of the activities, aka revel in his inner child via arcades and amusement parks. he actually made 2 friends, both in separate places, who'd accompany him whenever his parents got too tired from walking or couldn't bare the insane waiting lines (which was 90% of the time).

his dad had been secretly saving for this ever since daisuke was a kid, wanting to give his son the best birthday an 18-year-old could ever want.

while they've gotten richer over the years, his dad constantly struggled to feel secure in their wealth, feeling as though they could lose it at any time like his family had back then.

★ the tulpar.

upon arriving, daisuke didn't realize that he was a very late addition to the team. he noticed a slight hesitancy in everyone, which made him feel awkward, but in classic daisuke fashion, he shrugged it off and tried his best to get on everyone's good side.

(he definitely vomitted in his mouth soon after take-off).

daisuke quickly befriended everyone. the easiest was curly. he was the captain, after all, and the friendliest and handsomemest boss he'd ever met. even though it was pretty obvious that curly initially tensed at the lack of proper planning from pony express' end, he soon forgot it when daisuke eased into the crew just fine, impressed with how optimistic he'd been.

then, it was anya, who was a little quiet at first, but when she got used to his chipper nature, she had no trouble giggling with daisuke. she's glad to have someone other than curly to have fun with during their game nights, and even curly wasn't the easiest to play with because of how frequently he'd doze off in between turns, drool already dripping down his light beard. so, daisuke was a massively fresh change. he was energized and dramatic, passionately involving himself in the game and sneakily cheating whenever anya was getting a little too close to winning.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

curly called out for anya, asking where she had put his sleeping medication. anya lifted her view off of the board, her finger still holding her chin, and turned to curly, whom she gave instructions to.

daisuke and anya sat on the ground in front of the lounge couch, which swansea sprawled himself on—arms folded over his belly—as he dozed to sleep, his quiet snore growing louder by the minute. daisuke looked at anya, who was now bantering back and forth with their captain, and a mischievous grin inched up his cheeks.

with a very "inconspicuous" whistle, daisuke swiftly switched the positions of her queen and his bishop, shifting his eyes everywhere to ensure no one had seen the evil he'd done.

as anya's laugh died down and brought her focus back to the game, she moved her knight to somewhere on the board, not noticing the changes. then, as ego fueled his chest, daisuke took out her king.

"check and mate, anya." he proudly smiled, flipping his hair. he flicked open his fingers and spread his arms away from the table, figuratively dropping an explosive as he mouthed a boom.

"WHAT?!" anya exclaimed, her brows knit up her forehead as she scrutinized the chess pieces.

swansea snorted awake, startled by the sudden noise. "hah?! oh, what...? wh-what happened, where were we?"

bemusement painted her face when she realized what had happened. she pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at the cheater and pointed at daisuke, wagging her finger, "you did something, didn't you?"

daisuke stifled his laugh, remaining nonchalant and poker-faced as he shrugged. "i have no idea what you're talking about."

anya and daisuke just "argued." anya flailed her arms at the monochrome pieces, while daisuke found it increasingly hard not to burst into chuckles.

swansea lifted his back off the sofa, his spine resounding with a loud pop. in his neutral grumble, he said, "looks like daisuke won fair and square to me." then he went back to napping, flopping his neck onto the headrest.

anya was gagged, feeling like she'd gone crazy, so, daisuke finally cracked and cackled, falling to his side as he smacked the floor with tears in his eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

surprisingly enough, it was jimmy with whom he got on good terms with next. well, good enough terms with. they rarely ever talked. their conversations were limited to offhand encounters if they were the only ones near each other, where daisuke asked simple things about his life, followed by jimmy's cold hum.

so, as to not make things awkward, majority of what they discussed related to the tulpar and its workings. (jimmy secretly enjoyed it, though, feeling like he was more important than curly because daisuke would go to him for these types of questions, besides swansea. even though, the reality was that daisuke liked curly way more for how much he could joke around and still found room for professionalism.)

then, there was swansea. daisuke's favorite person, and his one and only mentor!

it felt nice for him to hang out with someone like his parents, except he was more wrinkly, irritable, and meaner than them. sometimes swansea's jabs can sting, but daisuke knows he means well. (then again, daisuke feels that way about everyone, and he's not sure whether that's a good or bad thing.)

despite his clumsiness and how often his mind drifts off to fantasies of breathing in tropical air with bikini-clad ladies surrounding him, he's learned so much from swansea.

it's not just about mechanics, but about life, his experiences and what all the good, bad, and ugly mean to him. without giving too much away about what he's been through, daisuke still managed to infer a couple of things.

albeit, he can be hard to understand. while swansea's advice is straightforward, he is in a descriptively convoulted way. so daisuke could only fully process it when he's lounging on the couch with swansea, taking in every word and, for once in his life, shutting up—which has only happened a couple of times, but hey, who says daisuke can't maneuver his way for more?

he hopes swansea will write him an extensive letter of recommendation and not mention all the times he's given him the wrong wrench, that one foam incident, or his ramblings of how he lowkey highkey wants to be a model, to which swansea would slowly blink at him for.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you want to be a model? for what?" swansea inquires, standing with crossed arms as he watches over daisuke adjusting a screw.

"well, you know, for fashion! getting all dressed up n' stuff, my picture being taken as i pose for the camera." daisuke momentarily stopped twisting the bolt and posed for swansea, smoldering as he folded his arms, definitely not imitating the old man.

swansea just rolled his eyes and told him to get back to work, putting his hands in his pockets instead. "so why'd you pick fixing metal junk instead?"

daisuke paused, ruminating on his following words. "i dunno, my parents want me to be an engineer, which is, like, super cool and all! and i do want to be one... it's just, it'd be nice to try other things i'm good at and see where they'll go, you know? you get me, right, swansea?" he went back to fidgeting with the pipe.

swansea stood there, softly nodding to himself. "i mean, they have a point—torx, kid, not hex," swansea pointed at the other screwdriver in the toolbox next to daisuke, "they don't want you risking unstable work and have no means of supporting yourself."

daisuke ate his lips, and swansea could see him grow smaller by the second. he sighed, "but, i'm not saying that you can't pursue that. you should, at some point, but my daughter's done it before, and she says it's not an easy world—"

"she's done whAT?!" daisuke brightened, nearly dropping the screw in his hand.

"did you even hear a thing i said?" swansea frowned, instinctively crouching down to cup his hand under where the bolt almost slipped.

daisuke nodded, "yeah, yeah, i know, but that is so cool! omg, can she hook me onto some agencies? does she know any? please, swan—!"

"slow down, kid..." swansea unintentionally chuckled, pulling the tool in the daisuke's hand back to the pipe. he shook his head and actually smiled, albeit small. it nearly made daisuke even more happy than he was about the news.

"look, like she said, it's not all fun and games but it is possible to be successful. you've just got to be serious, like you should be..." he taps on the metal, "...here."

"okayyyy..." daisuke heaved, defeated by the present realities.

there was a beat of silence. swansea stretched his neck from shoulder to shoulder and spoke, "...but when we get back to earth, i'll try talking to her, 'kay? now, finish up; you've already been taking long as it is."

daisuke excitedly bobbed his head, saluted him, and returned to his task.

★ extras.

daisuke secretly holds 'runway shows' in his room, walking from one end to the other as he stuns his imaginary audience with all of his hawaiian tees.

no one knows this, but he often draws himself with his dream girl (aka you, heehee). there are so, so many pretty portraits of her. you can truly see the effort he's put in these with every graphite stroke and his smudged fingerprint dented into the paper.

brought so many rings and earrings on board, only to wear the same ones every day 💀.

he enjoys a lot of music genres but predominantly loves pop. i like to think that the game takes place in the retrofuturistic 1990s, so daisuke listens to a lot of sir mix-a-lot and backstreet boys. he probably plays 'livin' la vida loca' on repeat when he's cleaning up foam with swansea.

would not be surprised if he has played every pokemon game on his gameboy.

his sleeping quarters are near swansea's, so... you can imagine how quiet he needs to be when he "relieves" himself (which makes the nsfw section even more embarrassing for daisuke, lmfao).

nsfw.

when daisuke finally realized that he would be alone.. in a room... in a spaceship... for a year... with no parents there to barge in, he tried so fucking hard to hold back the devilish smile crawling up his mouth (think knee surgery grinch). oooof course, he was going to abuse the living shit out of this freedom.

as told by swansea, daisuke "only thinks with his downstairs longnose." so, it's safe to say that he frequently masturbates, to no one's surprise 💀.

however, he needs the physical visual of something to really get off. he can still cum without it. but, as much as daisuke enjoys his fantasies of paradise, it takes an excruciatingly long time, and it never feels as good when he orgasms.

(if mouthwashing took place in our year, he definitely gets super turned on by nsfw audios. stuff like 'F4M gentle mommy praises you' would absolutely be his go-to genre.)

so he brought a portable tv and vhs player, secretly stashing all his favorite porn mags and cassette tapes, along with some new ones he's been dying to watch. the majority are vanilla, with a few bordering on bdsm, a couple of threesomes (it didn't really matter to him if they were FFM or MMF), and solo girls touching themselves as they tell him to follow their instructions, but a lot of them had an overt femdom feel, save for a few.

he tends to jerk off really fast and struggles to pace himself in a way where he doesn't greedily let himself reach his high, so closing his eyes as he listens to porn helps him extend that to a little close to 20 minutes. otherwise, this guy is done in maybe under 4—7 if he's lucky.

(unsurprisingly, he once came in less than 30 seconds from just teasing his tip. he got so embarrassed that he hid himself under the covers, shoving his face into the pillow, for being so pathetically easy).

even then, he can go so many rounds. when there's nothing much to do on the ship, and everyone was too involved in their own business to pay attention to him, he's had a few times where he used 3 of his 5 resting hours just jerking off back-to-back.

no matter how he toys with his dick, he'd always end up an adorable whimpering mess. he was naturally sensitive; pools of pre-cum would easily drip out of his tip after a few strokes, and his thighs would involuntarily shudder with each pump. however, that meant his moans would become so unbelievably loud that his whines could carry through the thickest of walls—unsurprisingly, very in-character for daisuke.

so he's grown used to muffling his mouth moments before he cums. either his palm pressed over his panting parted lips, or he'd resort to smushing his face into his pillows whenever it overwhelmed every inch of his body.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke lay on his side. with one hand tucked under his cheek, gripping strands of his hair, and the other vigorously milking his cock from base to tip, his half-naked body trembled on his bed. the patterned covers sprawled away from the beaded sweat rolling off his inner thighs, and all that filled the air were daisuke's desperate, high-pitched gasps.

a rising heat inched within his abdomen, and his wrist spasmed as every jerk reached speeds unbeknownst to him. daisuke pathetically attempted to smother whatever incoherent mewls escaped his throat, biting down on the skin of his lightly chapped lips, but it was futile. he was starting to lose it.

so, he rolls. he rolls his face into his pillow and props his knees on the mattress, brandishing his ass in the air with his back arched towards the tulpar's metal ceiling.

hoping he's suppressed himself enough, daisuke began whimpering out loud, cushioning his cries as he touched himself as fast as his slippery penis would let him. a list of curses fled his lips as he tried visualizing someone hover over him, grabbing hold of his drenched dick, pinning his head further into the pillow, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

after a couple of twists of his tip, he finally spilled all over the bed, his drool following suit. his cock twitched upwards, lathering bits of his cum all over his stomach, and with one final huff, daisuke dropped himself onto the mattress, sighing into its warmth—too dazed to notice the subdued thumping of footsteps beyond his door.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

he hasn't gotten the opportunity to have sex yet, nor has he charmed anyone enough to get his dick sucked or touched, but he was very close to it!

once, at a party, daisuke got to make out with a girl from his last year in high school, but this guy would not stop talking after each kiss. all that came out of his mouth were the awkwardest of one-liners and rambles full of compliments. while he thought it was cute, the girl quickly got annoyed. after a few more heated swaps of spit, she left the closet they were in, and daisuke just stood there, embarrassed, stuffing his face in some random person's sweater.

though it was only one failed (but he likes to think it was successful) make-out sesh, he loves the act of it so much. the feeling of a girl pressing him up against the wall, no matter how tall or short she was, clutching onto his shirt as their tongues deepened. the thought of their crotches sliding against one another got him all hot and bothered.

but, admittedly, daisuke wished she stayed (not necessarily the same girl in particular) because he loved the idea of him yapping continuously about something as she touched him more and more, latching her teeth onto his neck as her fingers rubbed circles on his bulge. he'd falter, his words blending into an incoherent whimpery mush as she lifted up his shirt and made her way down his collarbone.

oh, how he fantasizes about receiving and giving hickeys. he'll abide by how his dream girl would want to be bitten down, but he wanted to be marked.

daisuke's always been super into teethy indentations on his stomach and darkened spots scattered all over his chest. so he's practiced on his forearm, watching his saliva coat his bite, imagining how prickly it'd feel on his neck. but what he loves most is its meaning, how it symbolizes that he belonged to a girl and she belonged to him. it always made him feel warm and gushy inside.

lowkey feel like he enjoys dry-humping objects. if he sees a soft enough edge with ridges all over or a pillow that's looking softer than it should, he's rutting his clothed dick against it. but because of that, he gets incredibly horny when he starts focusing a little too much on the corner of any table.

anya once had to snap him back into reality after he intently watched jimmy put his back against a particular part of the kitchen counter. daisuke's face flushed, remembering last night.

he had to take his time thrusting his wet bulge against it. standing on his tip-toes, swaying his hips like a seesaw, as he grips the bottom of the counter for stability, for he was losing it. the way his cum would build up was so different from jerking off. it felt like rushing water pushing against a dam, but it was slow, like waves on a shore inching closer to his feet. this would make him cry, and he'd constantly moan in hiccups, short bursts of suppressed whimpers because of how much effort this took. however, he makes sure his mess stays in his pants. so, when he does cum, it would only paint a large stroke over his boxers as his semen dripped all the way down to his knee.

daisuke brought a vibrator and fleshlight on board, which he bought using some of his earnings from the cars he fixed back on earth.

he fucks his fleshlight like a rabbit when topping, depriving himself from all thought as he picks up the pace. but when he's bottoming, he starts lifting his legs off the ground and spreads them in the air, sending his brain over the moon.

when he tried the vibrator for the first time, it's like he entered a whole new realm. he fantasizes being on his stomach, arching his back with his ass in the air, his dick dangling in between his thighs as a girl mercilessly presses a vibrator up against his parts—cumming a messy puddle into his sheets. even though he could still do it on his own, the thought of anyone on laundry duty questioning the large wet stain was too embarrassing to bear.

it's ironic, considering how much he's into risky semi-public quickies. when he gets so pent up in the middle of organizing tool boxes and listening to swansea's rants, he will excuse himself to go to the bathroom. swansea would just roll his eyes and go, "yeah, yeah. do whatever you want, kid. just don't take forever." whether or not swansea actually knew what he was really doing, daisuke will never know—and, frankly, he'd much rather not.

he'd play with himself, alone. running to the tools closet with his back against the door, hand shoved into his boxers, his slick coating his palm as he clutched his shirt, using it as a fabric muffle for his shakey moans, revealing his heaving chest and hardened nipples. his eyes squeeze shut as his eyebrows knit in ecstasy.

(when the crash happens and he's forced to sleep in the lounge, he often scurries away to empty areas around the tulpar when swansea is too drunk out of his mind to notice daisuke's random disappearances.)

while he's not exactly sure where his mommy thing came from (don't look into that too deeply), he really indulges himself in it. he likes to re-enact his sexual scenarios when he touches himself, saying his lines out loud as if the person he was imagining were with him. he'd whine for mommy to let him cum, and when he got real close, he'd call himself a good boy like it were a mantra.

do you guys think he might like being called 'puppy'? i think it's very likely. he reads as the type of person who thrives off praise and massively enjoys any petname a person could give him.

i think he fantasizes about a bunch of women using him instead of him using women, which is what horny guys his age probably think of more often. but no, daisuke finds it so fucking hot to be used like a toy by more than one person, not knowing what pleasure he'll feel next.

but he's unsure if he would actually like that to happen in real life. sure, it gets his gears going, but he knows he'd be good with his one and only (hypothetical and future) girlfriend doing whatever she wants to him.

[i'm not sure if anyone could tell, but i got pretty lazy towards the end 🫠 if there are any scenarios that you want me to expand into single one-shots then feel free to request! so far, i have two other reqs and 3 original works, so it might take a while, especially because i have irl things to work on. —iris🌠]

#i dont think these are all my headcanons but i'll save some for later one-shots #oh fuck i forgot he does baseball #OOPS #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #swansea mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #btw i posted this before and it was so glitchy??? every time i saved the line break would push itself down #if that makes sense #and tags were not working 😭

100 notes · View notes

actualbird · 3 days ago

Note

how kinky do you think the nxx is?

short answer: THEY'RE ON VARYING DEGREES OF KINKINESS, IN MY HUMBLE OPINION

long answer: okay bear with me but ive made a chart

preempting my explanation first with the disclaimer that everything i will say are just my Own thoughts and my Own personal headcanons, feel free to disagree etc etc etc

but like yes. as you can see in the chart---which ive helpfully labeled the x axis, the y axis, and the respective Zones and their definitions---ive plotted out where i think each nxx boy lands

artem: this man is vanilla as hell yet still inexplicably worried and embarrassed about it. i think the farthest he'll go, kink wise, is maybe some simple bondage with ties maybe, but past that, hes not particularly interested in anything harder. if he were with a partner who was kinkier, he would definitely be open to trying things out, but his placement on the chart reflects more of his innate tastes.

luke: I WOULD SAY that luke is mid level kinky and boy he is so scared he'll be fOUND OUT, HES SO ASHAMED, HE THINKS HE SHOULD GO TO SUPER HELL FOR HIS DESIRES. he definitely needs somebody to Talk Him Through Some Stuff and how it's Okay to have kinks before he actually fesses to the kinks he's got: dom/sub (where he has the desire to be either or, depending on his mood), praise kink, bondage, pet play (he just wants to be a good dog...), roleplaying, rough sex, orgasm denial & control. he would be incredibly hesitant to try things out, not because he isnt into them, but because hes scared his desires are Too Much. he'll need to be soothed and reassured first that everything is Alright before he decides to indulge in his kinks.

marius: he's on around the same level kinkiness as luke is, but the main difference is that hes Completely Unapologetic about it. shame? whos that? the whole POINT about sex is that it should feel good so hes not gonna let silly little things like self consciousness stop him!! off the top of my head, i think marius' main kinks are: dom/sub, cumplay, exhibitionism/semi-public sex, Inventive Pax-brand Sex Toys, roleplaying, videotaping/photographing, bondage, aaaaand okay thats all i can think of for now. anyhoo, hes open about his kinks and very enthusiastic to try out whichever ones his partner would be game for.

vyn: HARDCORE KINK AND NOT SORRY ABOUT IT, BABYYYYYYY!!! im not very well versed in Vyn and his Vynisms, so i wont go into much detail here, but hes into a A Bunch Of Freaky Shit and would definitely want to introduce them into his relationship, once they're at a certain comfort level. also im pretty sure hes got a sex dungeon in the basement of his pristine victorian mansion, and i cant be convinced otherwise. god bless

#asks #anon #tears of themis #n/s//f///w text #artem wing #luke pearce #marius von hagen #vyn richter #tears of themis headcanons #tot headcanons

93 notes · View notes

merlucide · 8 hours ago

Text

BLLK BOYS X CURLY HAIR S/O! hcs

notes: written with the limited knowledge I have on curly hair 🙏 so hope it’s alright !! [Requested!]

characters: Chigiri, Sae, Bachira, Ness

warnings: cursing probs, ain’t proofread

CHIGIRI HYOMA

adding him for the sole purpose of HAIR DAY DATES 🗣️

You and him, the small counter, and bottles and bottles of hair product and styling tools 😍

Bae you don’t ever have to worry about the back of your hair bc hyo-baby GOTS YOU !!!

No knots allowed!! Not on his watch!!

I can also imagine you, hyo, and his sister just chilling around one day watching a movie and like sitting in one infront of another doing hair LMAO

The Chigiri siblings GOTCHU YOU

You looked so cutsey it’s insane

Also he’s like, always adjusting your hair

He doesn’t even say anything, just like fixes it lmao

Def is down for matching hairstyles (maybe not around his friends tho hehe)

Expects princess treatment for helping you lmao

ITOSHI SAE

(trying to learn how to write 4 him😭🙏)

Very quiet about his thoughts (that are positive anyway)

Thinks your hair is absolutely stunning, especially since it’s on you

will say “you look nice” but that’s about it

lowkey hates HOW LONG your routine takes

he just asked if you wanted to go to the beach to walk around

And he asked that like, 45 minutes ago

‘IM ALMOST DONE!!!’

He does like watching you do your hair routine— or more like being there in the same room

He understands the importance of self care, just not to this extent LMAO

like he combs his hair and has a simple face routine, but anything that extends 10 minutes seems over the top to him lol

Will def help you with anything tho, fast learner hehe

ALSOOO!-

when it rains he always gives you his jacket to put over your head to protect them curls 🗣️🙏 very gentlemanly I’ll say

BACHIRA MEGURU

he loves help you form curls!!

Like spinning his finger around and making them ya’know? :o

desperately wants to touch your curls but if you don’t want him to he will try (TRY) not to

Cue aggressive self-restraint stimming from Bachira

Wants to have you do the same routine on him lol

whiiich you do :3

Hes so excited to be involved and like, touched LMAOO

If you wear bonnets to sleep he wants to wear one too

it totally slides off while he sleeps and never tries to wear it again but still!!!!!!

ALEXIS NESS

absolutely entranced with your beauty

Nonono like, for real

Is in love with your curls 😍 he could watch em’ bounce for hours man

Like okay— in Ness’s mind there’s like a ‘filter’ if you would

And when he looks at you you’re like glowing and smiling n show motion with sparkles in your eyes

And you could just be like, chilling in your pjs LMAO

Will watch you do your hair routine with stars in his eyes

His hairs kinda curly too— well wavys a better word, but he doesn’t style it like you do

If you ever wanted to style his HED BE MORE THAN HAPPY!

jus happily sitting there criss-cross while you work your magic

help sorry if anything ain’t right— my hair is as straight as a pin soo 😭🙏

Made January 3rd 2025

84 notes · View notes

saioratral · 3 days ago

Text

PARING: yuuta okkotsu x f!reader

PROMPT: my pretty girl SYNOPSIS: insecure? that word doesn't exist when yuuta's around

WARNING: lightly talks about insecurities (love yourself and cherish yourself :D) NOTE: i wrote this during my cringe dump moments. it was actually a cringe- VERY CRINGE smut but i couldn't get myself to post that version💔 so i edited it again. i'm a bit embarrased cause now it's from my uh 'drafts' (only one person knows what i'm talking about)

shirts, dresses, turtlenecks, sweaters- nothing ever looked good on you. not today, not ever. no matter how many times you tried on different outfits, none seemed to fit quite right, or flatter the way you'd hoped. you stood in front of the mirror, gazing at the reflection staring back at you. it felt harsh, like every angle displayed your flaws. you feel frustrated, taking off the piece and letting it fall on the ground. the calvin klein logo now visible when you toss your shirt off from anger- even that was pissing you off

“ready to go babe?”, yuuta pops his head out of the bathroom after pushing his hair in his usual style

you turned towards him, feeling suddenly self-conscious from the lack of clothing, fingers nervously tugging at the hem of your skirt. “i don’t know what to wear”

yuuta looked confused for a moment, glancing from you to the mess of clothes around the room. he flipped the bathroom light off before walking toward you, crouching down to pick up a few of the ‘rejected’ choices

“oh, isn’t this your favorite sweater? the pink one from our shopping trip?” he asked, holding up the sweater

you took a slow breath, your gaze on the ribbon design sweater in his hand. “it is,” you said, but the words felt unconvincing. “i feel ugly in it”

“ugly?” yuuta repeated

his face softened as he stared at you, clearly unsure of how to reply. how could you say those words about yourself?

before you could say anything else, yuuta moved closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your waist. his touch was gentle, as if he was seeking permission. you didn’t pull away, offering him a sad smile

“angels can’t be ugly,” yuuta whispered as he guided you toward the mirror for you to see yourself. “angels are pretty. so... pretty”

“well not this one”, you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes

yuuta wasn’t about to give up so easily. he released your waist, only to gently tug at your left hand, guiding you toward the bed. without warning, he nudged you, and you found yourself gently falling back onto the soft, warm sheets that enveloping your tired body, letting your mind drift off somewhere

but he doesn’t let you drift, yuuta was here to remind you how pretty you are. the restaurant reservation can wait, but this? this can't

“don’t say that, pretty”, he called as he hovered above you. his arms were braced beside you, locking his gaze with yours before resting his forehead on yours

the only sound was the soft rhythm of your breathing and the faint scent of his cologne, wrapping around you like a comforting hug. in that moment, you were in his world- his universe. it was a place where you felt safe. a place where you didn’t have to hide or feel unworthy

“you’re so pretty”, yuuta whispered. then, as if a reminder, he gently booped your nose with a playful grin

“let’s find you a nice top?”, yuuta asks but doesn’t move to his words

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “i think we can skip the reservation today”

you lift your head up to kiss him and yuuta deepens it, guiding you gently down onto the sheets. his hands roam, tracing the curves of your body as though memorizing every inch he had seen over and over. his hands rest on your waist, he pulls you closer before breaking the kiss to catch his breath. gently, he shifts you without letting you do anything, settling you to rest on the pillows instead

"we can", yuuta murmurs, his voice low as his lips trace the curve of your neck. his hands move to your back, fingers quickly working to undo the strap of your calvin's

"i want to spend the night with my pretty girl"

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

#yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu yuta #okkotsu yuuta #ᡣsaioratral⋆˙୧⍤⃝

100 notes · View notes

lucygraysboy · 9 hours ago

Text

“will it sound racist if i say they probably eat rice when they grow tired of noodles? or sushi? do they like pizza or steak or does that gross them out like some of their meals gross us out?” he wonders aloud, not one to judge but growing more and more curious. “one of my classmates,” blair, but he won’t say the name and cause tension between them, “really likes japanese cuisine. i could never get past things like unagi, which is basically grilled eel. makes my skin crawl.” but he’s still fascinated by all the different cultures, and finds it amusing how they somehow seem to coexist right here in this very city. “that’s very un-new-yorkers-like, you know?” he points out with a chuckle, kissing the top of lucy gray’s head just because it’s very sweet and thoughtful of her. most people don’t stand up and offer their seats to elderly people. new yorkers believe in the i was here first so i get to sit as long as i want to rule. “you make it fun and interestin’, baby. i feel like we could go to albuquerque and have the time of our lives as long as we were together.” hearing her basically say that he’s not the worst tour guide in the world has him beaming, his chest expanding. it’s not that he wants her to fall in love with the city and stay here forever, that’s not how he envisions his distant future, but he wants her to have a good time while she’s here. a fairytale, that’s what he’s promised her and he’s determined to deliver. “the shell shock eventually wears off, i swear. though, even now, i still have these moments when i look at something and think to myself, did that just happen for real? like, just the other day i saw a lady maniacally laughing while sitting on top of a trash can with her pants off, using the trash can as a toilet. mind you, that happened on the corner of 5th and broadway.”

“that is true… what do you eat on everyday once you grow tired of noodles?” now she’s curious, thinking how she’s clueless and really doesn’t know what they have for food everyday over there but if it is just noodles to choose from how do americans move to a place like that and only eat that everyday? or if they move here, how do they like suddenly having to eat pizza everyday? the world’s awfully too fascinating for her one curious mind. “no, i’ll save it for any elderly person that might need to sit. i’m good, i’ll be all right.” saying sweetly, patting his forearm. watching him hand her a makeshift microphone, lucy gray looks at the cup and laughs before leaning into it and eyes flickering up on him, “it’s fun an’ certainly been interestin’ this far. i’d say a shell shockin’ change of culture from the one i’m used to. so it’s all very excitin’ for someone like me.” hand presses to her chest, smiling amusingly. staying optimistic on the outside even if her home and heart is where the hills and hollers are, but there’s no need to rain on any parades— there’s something to always be positive about and she is grateful for the experience. the only way she’ll end up absolutely hatin’ it is if it takes billy away from her again but she’s choosing not to think about that right now to spare her mood getting ruined and then ruining his and then they both wind up in a bad mood.

#billysgirllol #billy is literally THE WORST tour guide lol i love how he says he wants her to love the city but then tells her the story of a #homeless shitter lol

413 notes · View notes

genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago

Note

the post you just shared about being both a trans man and a dyke reminded me of something that ive been wanting to talk about for a while now but haven't been able to so far.

im brazilian. the country with one of the biggest pride parades in the world while also being in the highest rates of violence towards lgbt people. queer culture here is weird, and maybe i missed out on it because i was able to find refuge online among the english speaking community relatively early.

ive been observing something that i wrongly assumed was our own version of the butch/femme community, and for a second i got really excited bc we all know butch loneliness, but the more i started looking into it, the more of its completely rotten entrails they showed me.

it's a disfigurement of the ideas that i have held to my heart so dearly ever since i read stone butch blues for the first time, and even more as i discovered leslie feinberg, and found out that there really were others like me. they use the term "desfem" (as in "defeminized"), and the definition explicitly states that the individual must be a cis woman, quoting some terf-tier bullshit that would make joanne proud.

hating men is their entire personality, and it's so shallow and based on cishet gender roles that there is no "femme" counterpart, because they see no way to perform femininity outside of patriarchal roles. they want the aesthetics of butchness without the hardships of living as one. the trans community carries these people on their backs and still they're more worried about how some dykes are trans too.

i don't know where im going with this, i just need to get it off my chest to someone who would at least have an idea of what im talking about. it's so disheartening to see the community head towards this direction, and i grow less and less interested in forming bridges with cis people as time goes on lol

i wanted to thank you for taking the time to send it, i really appreciate these thoughts! i get contacted by a lot of brazilian people. i think that's super cool! i've heard that despite how large your queer scene is that it's still very queerphobic and that's unfortunate, but it does happen.

"hating men is their entire personality, and it's so shallow and based on cishet gender roles that there is no "femme" counterpart, because they see no way to perform femininity outside of patriarchal roles."

i really appreciate the way you said this! i've been trying to point this out for a while now and i'm glad you've come to this realization, yourself.

for whatever reason, cis lesbian, dyke and sapphic spaces are obsessed with the butch-femme binary. it's romanced to hell and back but it's very restrictive and patriarchal. implying that romantic relationships must fall into a masculine partner + feminine partner structure is cisheteromative. there's not much representation for butch4butch, butch4all, femme4femme and femme4all people. the idea that the masculine partner must be strong and protect the weak feminine partner that can't defend themselves is a patriarchal dynamic.

all of the lesbian yearning posts are about how butches are tops and doms and how all femmes are bottoms and subs. butch becomes synonymous with penis and femme becomes synonymous with vagina. calling butches 'chivalrous knights' dehumanizes them and reduces them to being protector figures. the way cis femmes online go on and on and on about how they "need" a butch is very alarming. femmes are being framed as dependent and as though they can't function unless they have a butch in their life, which is very misogynistic.

it's just a repeat of cishet- the patriarchal relationship formatting applies here, even if the genders are slightly tweaked. it's in the coding. it's literally a copy and paste job. it's lazy and toxic as hell and it leaves out all of the diversity that comes with lesbianism and how butches and femmes can experience life and love and sexuality in a variety of ways.

the thing is, as a genderqueer person, i've never understood why people are so attached to this binary. it's so restrictive. i'm butch, but not in the way that white cis lesbians define it. the way they tlel you how to be butch is so restrictive it's not even funny. it's like you gotta pass a test. you gotta be stereotypically masculine 100% of the time or else you're not a real butch. you're expected to emulate a cishet guy, but if you identify as a guy, all hell breaks loose. if you think about it people basically force butches to identify as men and then hold it at arm's reach away. like you have to act exactly like a man but be a Woman. and it makes no fucking sense.

lesbians are some of the most gender diverse people out there. it's crazy to me that people are trying to force lesbians, people who are known for being gender weird, into a male-female cishet binary but with a lesbian Womyn coat of paint. i wish you better luck in finding community that wants to stick together instead of fight over petty bullshit that doesn't matter. take care of yourself. feel free to stop by again any time

#asks #answers

97 notes · View notes

ssentimentals · 19 hours ago

Note

hello! "This is new." suggestive promt for joshua of seventeen 🥹 thank you!

hello! sure dear, sorry for the delay :( thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'this is new.'

you don't really think much about anything - glaring fact that you're late is on top of your mind as you burst into your room without looking around. hastily taking off you clothes on the way to the bathroom, you awkwardly hop on one leg trying to get rid of your jeans, when a male voice startles you with: 'well, this is new.'

it's a scene from some shitty rom-com: you, frozen on your track with only bra on and jeans halfway down your legs and joshua, sitting up on your bed with sleep tousled hair and amusement dancing in his eyes. 'what.' you manage to brethe out before you lean on the wall to not fall and embarrass yourself even further. 'what even-'

and then it all comes rushing down to you - joshua coming yesterday for a study session and you two falling asleep to the sounds of heavy rain outside. your relationship with joshua was fairly new, not even a month, and falling asleep together yesterday already was a big deal, but-

'please don't stop on my account,' joshua says, gesturing to your jeans. his eyes ghost all over you and you blush at understanding that this is first time he sees you without clothes on. or, well. halfway without clothes on. 'i am.. quite enjoying the show.'

you shriek, banging your head on the wall. 'this is not a show!'

joshua laughs openly at this, finally coming out of the bed to stroll over to you. he helps you up and waits till you peel off your jeans, standing only in your underwear in front of him. his grip on your hand tightens at the sight and he breathes out: 'you planned showering?' you nod. he bites his lip. 'i planned on it too. should we, um. save water-'

'oh my god,' you groan, stiffling a laugh. 'do not give me that bullshit. joshua, i can't believe-'

'okay-okay,' he laughs along with you, letting his hands wrap gently around your hips. 'no bullshitting. can i join you? in the shower?'

you are late. so, so late. but also - how to say no to this? 'yeah. yeah, you can.'

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

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #joshua hong #seventeen joshua #joshua x reader #joshua x you #svt joshua #joshua imagine #joshua x y/n #seventeen joshua x reader #svt joshua x reader #svt joshua hong #joshua hong imagine #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong x you #joshua hong fluff #seventeen prompt

76 notes · View notes

bigtreefest · 1 day ago

Text

New Year Coming In

Pairing: Boyfriend! Jake Jensen x Girlfriend! Reader

Summary: You and Jake may have signed up for more than you can handle to start off the new year with a bang.

Word count: 1,514

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, smut, p in v unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), cum eating, kissing, exhausted sex, aftercare, Jake and his glasses and his hair and his beefy body and his everything

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!! I hope you all enjoy this Jakey crackfic that took over my mind at 2am. Please, feel more than welcome to screech with me about it. And a special little thanks to @brandycranby for a line of dialogue.

Comments, reblogs, and asks are especially appreciated!

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist

The idea sounded perfect at first. Jake was happy to indulge you. Heck, it felt amazing for him, too. He got to welcome the new year with a good release, pleasing himself and the woman he loves. But oh man, if he didn’t wish he met you sooner before, this was the one thing that would get him pleading for it to be 2001 all over again, even if he had to relive the awkward years to avoid death by dehydration. Never mind how old the two of you were back then, he would’ve time traveled for it to be that year with you now.

A nice year would’ve been 2004, too. Coming four times in one session was something he could do with his eyes closed. Except he hadn’t, his eyes were peeled open, looking at the bright screen, in the times where he remembered being locked in his dark bedroom with his first laptop. Four times, easy. Really, even ten times, 2010. It would’ve had to have been parsed out over the course of the day, but he could’ve done it without complaint. Except, for the year 2025, the two of you had gotten a late start, not realizing how long and how much 25 rounds would take out of you. The agreement being 25 times, for each of you.

Not that he wanted to complain, but Jake Jensen never thought that he would’ve seen the day where he thought it was too much sex. And yet, here he was nearly drained. He laid on his back, cheeks ruddy, glasses crooked, bleached strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. His pupils were dilated in bodily satisfaction, just barely able to focus on you as you bounced on top of him, chasing your 12th simultaneous orgasm.

The sheets had been discarded long ago to the side, leaving you both exposed to the air in the room that was steadily rising in temperature, the sweat on your bodies lingering.

His fingertips dug into your thighs, sore hips sloppily raising to meet yours. Just enough sensation remained in his dick to feel you begin to clench in closeness as you reached down to rub your clit, tipping yourself over the edge with Jake joining you. His eyes squeezed shut and his chest heaved, nothing coming out of him despite the sensation of overstimulation that had overwhelmed him. In fact, he had shot blanks for the last three orgasms, too.

While you both came down from your highs, puffs of humid air filling the narrow space between your mouths as you leaned down to kiss Jake, he looked up at you, his face a mix of pure exhaustion, lined faintly with dopey satisfaction, but also a little worry. He hummed against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours to get just enough leverage to speak.

“Baby, I don’t think I can get to 25. We’re at 12 and my dick is gonna fall off.”

You giggled, pulling away and placing a hand on Jake’s cheek, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Okay, okay. How about this, what if we just make it 25 total?”

Jake furiously nodded his head, grateful for the reprieve. Between the two of you now, you’d reached 24. He could get you to 25. Hopefully. He knew his body was past halfway to limp, sucked dry, but maybe you weren’t as much of a noodle. Maybe you had one more in you.

Just when he thought he could take a breather, though, the both of you looked over your shoulder at the TV that had been softly playing in the background. In the top corner by the year’s newest pop sensation was a countdown clock to the new year. It had just reached under ten minutes.

Your head snapped back forward and your gaze met your boyfriend’s, the both of you panicking with eyes as wide as saucers. You had to make your deadline and time was dwindling quickly! But Jake swiftly jumped into action, tugging your hips in a gesture to pull you up his body. There was no way he had the time to recover and go another round, but this was dire!

“Use my face. USE MY FACE!” he urged you as he frantically pulled his glasses off and set them on the bedside table. You shuffled forward on your knees, his limp dick sliding out of your puffy entrance, filled with multiple rounds of your combined release. You moved so quickly to hover over his head that it didn’t have time to seep out of you before Jake yanked you down to his mouth with a firm grip by his large hands.

In an instant, his tongue was inside you, laving at your still spasming pussy, drinking down your wetness as his nose nudged your clit, coaxing it back to a stage of readiness. In seconds, he had you whining, grinding your hips against his face, begging for more attention on your sensitive nub. Jake could tell exactly what you needed, moving his mouth upwards, goatee lightly scratching your labia as he did so, and latched on to your clit, tongue working in tandem with the suction he was creating.

As if he still weren’t close enough to you, he used his hands to press on your plush thighs, squeezing you closer to him when he sucked harder. A new wave of arousal flowed through you, confirmed by Jake’s satisfied hum that sent a shockwave out from your core and across your limbs.

Your arms flailed, searching for something to hold onto, one reaching the headboard, the other drifting down into his damp locks. As you fisted his hair, you made brief eye contact with him, a smile on his face evident by the creases at the corner of his bright blue eyes when he reached up and tweaked a nipple towards the end of his focus range. Jake could just barely make out the scene above him, squinting slightly, when you fought throwing your head back in pleasure.

You might have felt like ecstasy was about to make your body implode, but you would’ve held on for just how pretty the sight of your boyfriend was, enjoying this moment underneath you, trying to feed your insatiable appetite for him. You were so zoned in to his every feature that he caught you by surprise when he did that thing with his tongue, guaranteed to make you topple over the edge every time.

You barely caught the image of him winking at you in reassurance that he wanted you to let go as you squeezed your eyes shut and your fists clenched hard, the headboard creaking. Jake let out a groan against your pussy that sent another tingle up your spine, causing you to call out, “Ah, Jake!” when you careened over the cliff once more.

Jake broke the suction of his mouth, gently easing you off of him, his strong arms setting you into the mound of sheets that laid at his side. He had regained just enough life in his legs to jet to the bathroom quickly to clean himself up, returning with a warm, damp towel which he used to tenderly wipe between your legs. He discarded it, tossing it into the hamper as fast as he could.

Jake settled back into bed, slipping his glasses back on and looking at the countdown clock on the television which had just dipped below 30 seconds, as he pulled your naked body on top of his, a sleepy smile filling your face, eyes closed peacefully. You hummed contentedly, finding comfort pressed against his beefy torso as his one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other hiking your knee up for you to toss your leg over his slim waist. Your head settled on his shoulder, nearly face-to-face with him, just in time for the final countdown.

Both of your gleaming smiles matched each other when the ball dropped and you lifted yourself up to kiss him, lips dancing slowly, reverently. There was no longer a rush. The two of you could just enjoy each other as you rang in the new year with a definite bang.

As you pulled away, gasping for air, you resettled yourself down with your ear right over Jake’s heart, your hand moving to idly rub over his belly as the two of you watched confetti fall over Times Square on the screen.

“Got any resolutions, babe?” you slurred.

Jake blew out a contemplative breath, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his fingertips teased up and down your arm. He clicked his tongue in thought, “Maybe presenting the suggestion to you that we take the square root of the year and do that many orgasms instead from here on out. That way in 2064, when we’re old and wrinkly, we’ve only gotta do eight. And in 2081, our frail bones can settle for nine.”

You laughed along with his warm chuckle that rumbled his chest and nodded. “Good idea, Jakey.”

Bonus A/N: My life’s dream is to drain Jake’s body like this. Thank you.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63

78 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 days ago

Note

When your requests are open can I request a fic where the reader is dating Sebastian Stan and someone online or in person says something rude to her and so Seb stands up for her?

I Will Always Stand Up For You » Sebastian Stan

Pairings: Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Someone says something rude to you and Sebastian stands up for you.

Warnings: Fluff, language, insecurities, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @marvelobsessed134 🩵

A/N: I used Google translate for the Romanian translations. My apologies if I got anything wrong.

Translations: Dragă: sweetheart | Prinţesă: princess

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You walked in a coffee shop you and Sebastian always meet up with one another at when one of you is busy. You sat down at yours and his usual table and waited for him. Sebastian is currently in a meeting. You decided to send him a text.

You: I’m waiting for you in our usual spot🥰

Sebby🩵: That’s great. I’ll see you in a little bit. I love you❤️

You: I love you too❤️

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet message. All of his messages to you make you smile and blush. You and Sebastian have been dating for a couple months and it always feels like the first time when he says “I love you” to you.

You got up and ordered a coffee for you and Sebastian while you waited for him. You then sat back down and decided to scroll through social media. You were so focused on your phone that you didn’t hear someone sit down at the table you’re sitting at.

“Hi.” You heard a girl say.

You looked up from a phone to see two girls and a guy sitting across the table from you. They look college aged. You shut your phone off and gave them your full attention.

“Uhh hi?” You say more like a question.

“You’re that girl.” The second girl says.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. The girl made it sound like her and her two friends knew you.

“Do I know you guys?” You asked.

“No, but we know who you are.” The guy says.

“You’re Sebastian Stan’s girlfriend right?” The first girl said.

“Yes I am.” You answered with a smile.

You assumed they were fans so you didn’t think much of it.

“We have a question for you.” The guy says.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Why is Sebastian dating a girl like you?” The second girl asks.

“Excuse me?” You rose an eyebrow at their question. “What do you mean a girl like me?” You asked.

“You’re not his type.” The first girl says.

“Plus you’re not that pretty.” The second girl says.

You didn’t say anything. You stared at them silently. You watched them stand up and move to a different table, sitting at a table on the other side of the coffee shop. You glanced over at them, seeing them pointing and giggling at you. That was enough to tell you they were still talking about you.

You faced forward and stared at the table, your fingers playing with the necklace Sebastian bought you for yours and his one month anniversary. You were so caught in your thoughts that you didn’t realize tears were rolling down your cheeks. You sniffled and continued to fiddle with your necklace. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Sebastian texted you.

Sebby🩵: I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes

You: I’ll be waiting🥰

You sighed shakily and shut off your phone. To distract yourself, you decided to play with the sugar packets in that was in a little container. Tears continued to roll down your cheeks and you sniffled every now and then.

“Now she’s crying like a baby.” One of the college kids says in a mocking tone.

You felt yourself getting smaller the more you heard them. A few minutes go by and Sebastian walks in the coffee shop, going straight to the table you’re sitting at.

“Hi, baby.” Sebastian greets you, kissing the top of your head before sitting down across from you.

“Hi, Seb.” You say quietly.

Sebastian noticed your cheeks were wet with tears and you were unusually quiet.

“What’s wrong, prinţesă?” He asks with worry in his voice.

“It’s nothing.” You mumbled, picking at the plastic lid of your coffee cup.

Sebastian moved the cup to the side and held your hands in his.

“Talk to me.” He murmurs softly.

You continued to stay quiet and looking down. Sebastian didn’t miss the way your bottom lip quivered. That was enough to tell him something was wrong.

“Dragă.” Sebastian tilted your head up so you were looking him in his eyes. “Tell me please.” He says softly.

“A little bit ago, a few college kids asked me why you were dating a girl like me cause I’m not your type and I’m not pretty.” You tell him, feeling your eyes tearing up again.

“Who said that to you?” He asks.

You were about to answer him when you heard the same giggling from across the coffee shop. You looked over at them. They were still giggling and pointing at you. Sebastian followed your gaze to the three college kids who were rude to you earlier. He seen the pointing and heard the giggling.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, standing up.

You didn’t even protest. You watched him walk to the other side of the coffee shop to the table the three college kids were sitting at.

“What’s your problem?” Sebastian asked them.

“What?” One of the girls asks.

“You three have been pointing and giggling at my girlfriend since before I got here.” He said.

“That’s because she’s ugly and it looks like there’s something wrong with her.” The guy said.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched. Overprotective boyfriend mode took over him. He doesn’t like it when people talk about you or to you like that.

“I’m only going to say this once.” Sebastian begins. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with her. You guys just decided to pick on someone you guys don’t know. You guys just like to judge people who you all don’t even know. She’s the love of my life and the most beautiful woman I know. I’d appreciate it if you guys would stop being rude to her and leave her alone.” He says.

The college kids stayed quiet and then left. Sebastian walked back over to you and sat down next to you.

“You don’t have to worry about them again, prinţesă.” He says, wrapping an arm around you.

“Thank you, Sebby.” You muttered softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, dragă. I will always stand up for you.” He says softly, wiping your tears away.

Sebastian then caressed your one of your cheeks softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone. You stared in his blue eyes, a smile forming on your lips.

“There’s the smile I love.” Sebastian says, making you blush and your smile grow wider.

Sebastian kissed you softly. You melted into his touch like you always do.

“I love you, prinţesă.” He says softly with a smile.

“I love you too, Sebby.” You say, smiling up at him.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sebastian stan #sebby stan #seb stan #boyfriend!sebastian stan #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #girlfriend!reader

82 notes · View notes

nanamis-bigtie · 2 days ago

Text

oxytocin

↬ higuruma hiromi x gn afab!reader ↬ jjk masterlist // ao3 version // kofi

cw: smut, chubby reader, established relationship, oral sex (r receiving), scent kink (hiromi likes to take a sniff) summary: hiromi apologizes to you for broken promise. with his lips. word count: 2,293 a/n: i promised myself I'm gonna write more self-indulgent stuff in 2025. and what's better indulgence than your fave being crazy about your body type, right? i like having my readers as neutral as i can make them but hell, i enjoyed writing this sooo much. I think this won't the last chubby reader I post. the idea for this fic came to me when I was listening to "oxytocin" by billie eilish on repeat - and thus the title. divider by saradika

"I could swear you promised you won't work on your days off."

You creak the door open just enough to slide in and lean against the frame, arms crossed on your chest. You try to look stern, but Hiromi barely flicks eyes over his laptop, so engrossed by his task even your grimace can't pull him away. Under other circumstances you would leave him to his matters, knowing better than interrupting him when he's in the flow, but today is different. Today is the first proper morning you spend together in your new house; no more unpacking, no more chaotic struggle between this place and your old apartment, no more exhausting IKEA trips, everything sneaked into your busy schedules by a thin margin.

He should be snoring softly by your side in your shared bed, sleeping off the housewarming party and a month-long plague of overtime. Not—bothering his body and mind with extra job he won't be even paid for.

"Hiromi..." You tiptoe closer and behind him, arms thrown over his shoulders and crossed over his chest.

He jumps a little but leans into your touch soon after. You press face into the crown of his head, inhaling fresh scent of his shampoo.

"I put the dishes away," he mutters and groans as you work through the tension in his sides and shoulders. "And cleaned up the living room."

"That's not what I meant." You pepper kisses down his temple, cheek and jaw. "You promised you won't do that. And especially not at 7a.m."

You reach over him and close the laptop, gently pushing it away before Hiromi catches on your move and tries to snatch it. He meets your hands instead, gathers them in his and pulls them close to his chest, trapping you in the role of a weighed blanket.

"It was just a single e-mail." Blatant lie, mollified with his nose rubbing against your neck, looking for the most delicious spots. "I would have finished before you wake up."

"Well, I am here, awake, and what do I see?"

You nip and suck at the tip of his ear, noting with satisfaction how his body trembles, the faintest of whines escaping his lips before he whisks away and returns the favor.

"I'm sorry, darling." Hiromi kisses his apologies along your neck, twists his torso to try and sneak a taste of your chest, delicious strap of bare skin revealed by loose pajama top. There's only one thing stronger than his persistent work obsession and he's chasing it like starved now, the fear of being punished for his broken oaths creeping behind hasty pecks and licks. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

He's ready to beg to get what he wants and avoid the repercussions, and as much you love the teary look he gives you when he's desperate, you're in mood for quite different Hiromi. You woke up with a goal on mind, disappointed you found his side of the bed empty and cold, unable to sate your needs without leaving the comfort of freshly bought sheets.

He pouts when you move away but hopeful gleam returns to his eyes when you sneak in between him and the desk. You wiggle yourself on top of it, legs spread just right to engulf him—and he doesn't make you wait, immediately shoving the chair forwards, until he's surrounded by your thick thighs.

"You're so warm..." He runs hands up them, trailing the lines of your stretch marks towards the hem of your skimpy shorts, kneading the soft rolls right under it.

"I would be warmer if you hadn't forced me out of the bed," you scoff but your voice is already melting. His hands are so smooth and gentle, so addictive with the way he touches you. He adores each inch of your skin, no crumb of your body able to escape his attention when he's in trance like this.

"I'm sorry." Hiromi darts his eyes up at you, drooping eyelids adding to his begging puppy look—but the fire in his gaze has nothing to do with submissiveness. He lets you hold the leash but it's not a firm hold.

He's going to yank it out of your hands soon.

You rest your feet on the armrests and lean a little to the back. Your shirt rolls up, revealing a roll of your tum over the doubled elastic band of shorts and panties.

Hiromi pounces on it like starved.

His kisses are soft at first, grazing the lines of stretch marks and adoring the delicate skin, but he can't restrain himself any longer. He licks and sucks, bites marks of possession in place only him is allowed to look, teases your bellybutton with the tip of his tongue to drag a sweet, ticklish giggle out of you. Greedy, he shoves the shirt more out of his way and buries his face whole into your tum, his moans swallowed by your body.

"Fucking hell, you're so hot..." he half-cries, blood rushing south already messing with his senses. His eyes are unfocused as he steals a sight of your face from his spot, almost rolling into the back of his head when he takes in the smell of your body, natural and soaked in lazy warmth of your shared bed. In no time, he's diving for more, pulling your bottoms with hands and teeth alike; when the line of your pubes and a glimpse of your soft mound welcomes him, he moans so obscenely you could swear he's finished in his pants just at the sight.

Your shorts are thrown aside and forgotten but he keeps your panties on, eyes transfixed on the wet stain right over your slit.

"For me?" He sucks air in, sharp, and traces it with a thumb, pressing gently at the outline of your clit.

For a moment he's overwhelmed by the gamut of options, but he doesn't let you grow impatient and dives straight for his favorite. Keeping you in place with surprisingly strong hold on your hips, Hiromi leans for it and sniffs your pussy through the fine fabric, loud whiff followed by even louder moan. Through seconds heavy like lead he only breathes you in and pushes his nose right at the center of the growing wetness—but he doesn't forget about you, he could never, your pleasure the most delicious treat for him.

He rubs his face whole into it, soaking himself in your scent, using his nose and lips to get you off through your panties. He sucks on your clit, his mouth full of the fabric, licks your juices, sneaks his tongue into all the delicious crevices, more and more soaked, the barrier between you two almost ceasing to exist.

"'romi..." you struggle to speak, to make any sound, really. The work of his mouth is divine and the fact he hasn't tasted you raw yet only adds to the fire. Anticipation is growing with each impatient lick and groan of his pleasure. He holds on to you as if you were bound to escape him if he lets go only for a second, his nails digging in your thighs, spreading you open and pinning you down for him.

But soon he can't be satisfied only with that.

You chirp with disappointment when he pulls away, but you quickly catch on his plan and lift your hips as much as you can with your legs on the verge of folding. He yanks your soaked panties down to your ankles, frees them—and pushes his face into them, inner, wetter side right for his nose. A few deep and desperate breaths later, he folds them into his pocket for later, and focuses his eyes on your pussy, bare this time, moist and ready for him.

Hiromi mutters a curse as he loosens the collar of his shirt, futile attempt of protecting it from your juices. With how he eats you out—like a madman, like a feral animal—it stands no chance; its front ends up crumbled and stained in seconds as he leans his whole body into yours, sniffing you bare from the waist to crotch.

He's finally there, nose grazing your clit, tongue darting out to tease your lips and the edge of your entrance, ready to slip in as soon as you pull on his hair.

But the softest taps of fluffy feet stop him in his tracks. Both of you forgot about the door, still open for your curious cat, ready to investigate the source of noises so unusually early in the morning. Hiromi freezes, face inches over your mound, and follows her with the corner of his eye, can't help a chuckle when she assigns him as the most interesting object in the room and enthusiastically rubs her face against his calf.

"Oh kitty, not now." He still leans down to scratch her behind ear. "Good girl. Now let us be."

"You're nicer to her than to me," you joke but Hiromi takes it personally, look in his eyes so hurt you almost regret teasing him. Abandoning cat to its own shenanigans, he cradles your hand in his and pulls it to his lips, his kiss pressed to your wrist wet with your own arousal still lingering on them.

"I'm horrible today," he mutters against your skin, trails his love up your forearms, nuzzles his cheek into your wrist. "I hope you'll forgive me."

Intrusion has simmered the heat between you two down, but he quickly builds it back. You're no longer able to hold yourself on your elbows, with each kiss and hickey sucked into the softness of your thighs you lean more to the back, finally lying flat on the desk, with little to no care for possibly slipping down. Hiromi wouldn't let you, anchoring your hips as he finally returns to his breakfast. He laps, sips and sucks; dirty praises he mutters between slurps drown under wet sounds his busy tongue creates.

Self-indulgence is gone, Hiromi's only goal now is to bring you the most delicious orgasm. Even commotion between his legs doesn't distract him, not with your legs frantically closing on him, engulfing him with the plush of your thighs.

You're close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Cat meows for attention, paws at Hiromi's pants, attempts to climb his lap but falls, unable to squeeze between the union of your bodies. Hiromi, head buried in his favorite spot, reaches blindly to untangle her paws from himself. One of them somehow slips into his pocket, dragging half of your panties out. Delicious, dangling treat for a curious creature, now interested more in fishing it out than begging for attention from her favorite human.

"Shoo, go away." Hiromi has to stop, much to your irritated whine. "That's not for you."

Panties are clumsily showed back, cat pushed further under desk with a foot. You start lifting yourself on elbows again, determined to pull Hiromi by hair where he belongs, but he's faster, lips wrapped around your clit, two fingers sliding inside you and curling, right at the delicious spot he knows will have your back arching in ecstasy.

You curse through clenched teeth, legs tensing and trembling, thighs squeezing him tight until he's moaning into your cunt. He sucks even harder, sharp draft through nose the last breath he takes before putting every ounce of his focus into bringing you pleasure.

"—mi!" You sob and tense, finally reaching the longed-for peak. He gently licks you through it, fingering you until you stop throbbing around him, and he can finally pull away, panting, his cheeks red from lack of air.

Hiromi nuzzles up to your thigh and welcomes you with a lazy, enamored smile when you find power to lift yourself again and look at him. His face is flushed and stained with your juices and his saliva, eyelids drooping even lower than usual. You thread fingers through his hair; he closes eyes in pleasure and leans into your touch.

"Am I forgiven?" He smiles, enamored with the views in front of him and drunk on your taste.

"You are. More than forgiven."

He helps you shimmy closer and chases your lips with the softest kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue—a pleasant, nerve-tickling reminder of pleasure he's given you with it.

A shared moment of sweet distraction is enough for the cat to get the attention she wanted. A quick paw later, she steals your panties from Hiromi, and bolts with it in her teeth as if death itself chased her.

"Ah, you little—" Hiromi tries to grab her, only gets a tickle of her tail. "There she goes..."

"I'm gonna get her." You slip off the desk, ready to corner the little thief where you know she's hiding, under her favorite armchair in the living room. But Hiromi is even faster than the cat, one hand grabbing your hand, the other pushing you back towards the desk—and down, bending you with hips right at the perfect height for him.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" He ruts against your ass, groans as its softness swallows his erection, ready to be freed of his pants and sunk into your hot hole. "I thought I were forgiven?"

"But cat—" You fight against it just for the show, heat perking its head again, hungry for his cock.

Hiromi pins you down harder, until you mewl in discomfort, the hard edge of desk sinking into your tum. He steals a shallow thrust against you and presses close to your back, panting into your ear in need between words, his voice strained and guttural, "No, darling. Cat can wait. You can chase her after I've creampied you thoroughly."

107 notes · View notes