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casssmalefantasy · 27 days ago

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five days in minnesota — paige bueckers x reader!

s: you haven’t seen paige bueckers in two years, despite your families being close friends since forever. your dad and hers go way back, so when you're invited to a barbecue at the bueckers’ house, you don’t think much of it—until you see paige again, taller, hotter, cockier, and she can’t stop staring at you. five days in minnesota might not be enough.

w: family friends to something more, suggestive tension, heavy flirting, smut (18+), fingering (f!receiving), teasing, confident!paige, dom!paige, waist grabbing, kissing, dry humping, soft but filthy

word count: 5.6k

your dad’s voice is casual when he brings it up, like he’s not dropping a bomb on your week.

“we’re heading to minnesota for a few days,” he says, leaning on your bedroom doorframe. “the bueckers are having a barbecue. whole family’s gonna be there.”

you pause mid-scroll. “like… their whole family?”

he nods, like it’s obvious. “including paige.”

and just like that, your stomach flips.

you haven’t seen paige in two years. it’s not like she was dodging you—you’ve both just been busy. school, schedules, sports. still, it’s strange how time passes like that. the last time your families hung out, she wasn’t even there. and the time before that, you weren’t.

you think back to the only clear memory you have of her when you were kids.

a backyard fourth of july cookout, sweaty and loud, you two around nine years old. she had a red gatorade in her hand and a streak of popsicle juice on her shirt when she tripped over a sprinkler and spilled the whole thing all over you.

“shit—i mean, sorry!” she squeaked, panicking.

you had blinked down at your soaked sundress, then at her wide eyes. “it’s okay,” you said, even though your face was already burning.

your dads laughed. hers handed her another gatorade. yours handed you a towel.

now she’s… paige bueckers. uconn legend. all over your tiktok fyp, all over espn, all over your head for the last few days, even if you won’t admit it out loud. she’s still got you on instagram. liked your recent post. even dm’d you a short but sweet “happy birthday. hope it’s a good one.”

you had to pretend like that wasn’t a big deal. even when some of your college friends freaked out when they saw that she followed you.

“oh, we’re family friends,” you’d shrugged, like it wasn’t weird. like you didn’t save the message. like you didn’t check if she still followed you the next day.

you pack a bag for five days. you convince yourself it’s not a big deal. just a cookout. just a trip.

—

when you get to the bueckers house, the heat that rises under your skin says otherwise.

you barely get out of the car before you’re wrapped up in a hug—drew, paige’s little brother, crashing into your side like he’s been waiting years.

“you’re finally here!” he shouts.

“you’ve grown like a foot,” you laugh, hugging him back.

then bob—paige’s dad—is right there, grinning, and his wife katie is telling you how gorgeous you look.

“college suits you,” she says, touching your arm.

“look at you,” bob adds. “all grown up.”

you don’t see her right away. but you feel her.

your eyes drift to the porch and there she is—paige, leaning against the railing with a bottle of water, watching the scene unfold with a slow smile tugging at her lips.

she’s in a uconn long sleeve, grey sweats hanging low on her hips, messy bun perched effortlessly. she looks like summer. like home. like danger.

she walks up to you with that same half-smile, eyes scanning you like she’s checking for something.

“hey,” she says, low and warm.

“hey,” you reply, suddenly very aware of her hand on your waist when she hugs you briefly.

then she moves on to your family, greeting everyone else, but you can still feel the imprint of her fingers.

her dad starts pulling out grill tools, and your dad joins him. your mom and katie disappear into the kitchen, talking about salads or sides or something domestic.

which leaves you and paige.

“come up to my room?” she asks, casual.

you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumps.

her room’s bigger than you remember. cleaner, too. some trophies on shelves, a wnba hoodie on the back of her desk chair. she kicks off her slides and sits on the bed while you hover near the doorway.

“you can sit, you know,” she says, smirking.

you raise a brow. “didn’t want to assume i’m still welcome in the bueckers castle.”

“always,” she says. “especially now that you’re not nine and covered in gatorade.”

you laugh, remembering the spill. “that was your fault.”

“that was gravity’s fault,” she grins. “i was just the vessel.”

conversation eases into small talk—college, classes, plans. she asks about your major. you ask about rehab, basketball, uconn.

“how was your birthday?” she asks eventually.

you glance at her. “you told me happy birthday, remember?”

“i know,” she shrugs. “but texts don’t count.”

you feel her looking at you again. not just looking—watching.

“you look different,” she says finally. “in a good way.”

“it’s been two years,” you say. “people change.”

“yeah,” she murmurs. “glow up kind of change.”

you snort, flopping back on her bed. “don’t act like you’re not all over my fyp. i can’t open tiktok without your face popping up in some slo-mo edit.”

“so you do keep up with me.”

you turn your head, grinning. “i never said that.”

“you didn’t have to.”

before she can say more, drew and your little brother jax burst in yelling that the food’s ready.

—

the barbecue is exactly what it should be—laughs, plates full of ribs and burgers, old hip hop playing over speakers, cousins and kids running around. you sit next to paige at the long picnic table. her thigh brushes yours more than once. she doesn’t move.

there’s a moment where you catch her staring—again—and she doesn’t look away when you meet her eyes.

“you always this obvious?” you tease under your breath.

she leans closer. “only when someone’s worth it.”

someone brings out a cooler of drinks and a few people grab beers. the sun starts to dip. the music shifts to more bass. paige’s cousin tries to get a dance circle going.

you find yourself back inside at some point, barefoot on the cool kitchen tiles, cup in hand, paige right next to you.

“you always been this cocky?” you ask her.

“not always,” she says. “just when i’m talking to someone who makes it easy.”

the air changes.

you’re leaning on the counter, and she steps between your legs like it’s nothing. like it’s natural.

her hand grazes your bare thigh and you swallow hard.

“can i kiss you?” she asks.

you don’t answer. you just pull her in.

she kisses like she plays—confident, smooth, dominant. her hands find your waist and grip tight. your own fingers wind into her shirt and pull her closer.

—

somehow you end up in the hallway. then her room. door closed. lips still on yours.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” she mutters against your skin.

you don’t. not even close.

her hand slips under your shirt, hot and slow. her fingers trail your waistband.

“so fucking pretty,” she breathes.

you arch into her, gasping when her fingers dip beneath your shorts.

she starts playing with your pussy like she's done this a hundred times—pressing, curling, teasing until your legs are shaking and her name is the only thing you can think to say.

"fuck, paige."

"you like that?" she whispers. "you're so wet for me."

you whimper, nodding, burying your face in her neck.

her fingers fuck into you deep, slow, then faster—like she’s trying to memorize every sound you make. her thumb circles your clit, and your whole body jolts. she shushes you gently, but her smirk betrays the way she loves pulling you apart.

"that's it," she murmurs. "let me feel you. let me take care of you."

you moan into her hoodie, clutching her tight, thighs trembling as you cum all over her fingers.

but she doesn’t stop.

she keeps her fingers moving, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you until you're squirming, overstimulated and panting into her neck. her other hand cups your jaw, tilts your face up so she can kiss you through the aftershocks—slow and messy and deep.

"you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this," she whispers against your mouth. "wanted you."

she pulls back just long enough to tug your shirt off, eyes raking over your chest like she’s starving. her hoodie comes off next. then she’s on you again—skin on skin, warm and solid and hers.

her mouth finds your nipple, tongue flicking slow and wet as her fingers start circling your clit again. you gasp, hips jerking.

"one more," she says softly. "give me one more, baby."

and you do.

you cum again, harder this time, thighs clenched around her waist as you cry out her name. she holds you through it, kissing your collarbone, your cheek, your lips, until you’re limp in her arms.

and when you finally catch your breath, she kisses your forehead and says,

"this isn't just a one-time thing. not if i have anything to say about it."

you believe her.

and by the end of five days in minnesota, you're already thinking about what comes next—because now that she’s touched you like this, there’s no going back.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #ncaa women’s basketball #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x black!reader

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afanofmanyhats · 1 year ago

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One of my favorite things about Tolkien's writing is that he has a very specific, recurring trope. For lack of a better term, I'm dubbing this the Tolkien Wife-Guy.

This is mainly obvious in the Silmarillion, but Tolkien loves to write couples where the man is a notable individual- nobility, commits a great deed, or both- but the wife is at least equally notable, if not more beloved or powerful. Manwe is the king of the Valar and Eru's main representative in Arda? Everyone loves Varda more, and Melkor fears her more than his own brother. Elu Thingol is the king of the Silvan Elves? His wife is Melian, whose Girdle is the magic that keeps Morgoth's forces at bay. Beren is a chief among the Edain, who befriends animals and survives one of the most nightmarish places in Beleriand? His wife is Luthien.

Even in Lord of the Rings we see this occur, though the couples are on more even footing. Tom Bombadil is... Tom Bombadil, but Goldberry is the River-daughter, and Tom adores her above everything else, and the hobbits are completely taken in with her when she's their host. Similarly, while Celeborn is a mighty lord among Elves, Galadriel is one of the only Noldor in Middle-earth who saw the Two Trees, and her hair inspired Feanor to make the Silmarils, not to mention her own accomplishments in the war against Morgoth. Aragorn is the king of Gondor and Arnor, but Arwen is the Evenstar of the Elves, the descendant of three(?) different royal Elven lines. And Faramir becomes the Steward of Gondor and is one of the noblest men alive, but Eowyn killed the Witch-king, so you know. She got the grander moment for the saga.

But with (most) of these couples, we never get the impression that the man views his wife as Less-Than, or as a junior partner. Thingol is the main exception to this in how he dismisses Melian's counsel, and that's made out to be his foolishness within the text. Otherwise, Manwe treats Varda as his co-ruler, Beren never tries to downplay Luthien's achievements, and I'm pretty sure most of Tom Bombadil's dialogue is about how gorgeous Goldberry is. It's really sweet.

All of these examples really testify to how much Tolkien loved his wife. People rightly point to Beren and Luthien as the prime example of that, but I think you can find it in these other couples too. Even though Edith is mainly known to history as Mrs. Tolkien, it's evident to me that Jirt saw her as a whole person worthy of admiration outside of being his wife.

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pretend-i-don-t-exist · 4 months ago

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qijiuyuan where sy is yqy's disciple, and everyone believes that there is a love triangle involved

everyone in cang qiong knows that yqy is besotted with sqq! they've witnessed it since the qing generation were head disciples, and that devotion hasn't waned even after decades of cold rejection. the entirety of cang qiong knows that not even the threat of death would drive yqy away– in fact, he'd even offer his own sword for sqq to cut him down as he pleases. it's impossible for him to love another.

sy being taken in as yqy's disciple is a surprise. the lanky, wide-eyed boy was more fit for qing jing or an ding, not qiong ding's cold, political battlefield. still, they accept yqy's decision– his favoritism to sqq aside, he is an excellent sect leader. there must be a reason why sy is made a qiong ding disciple.

it becomes obvious, soon enough. sy is good with his words, although a little oblivious to the effect he has on the people around him. a warm ray of sunlight that focuses on nurturing and protecting rather than seeking power, one that can stand firmly and abide by his principles despite the machinations against him. it doesn't take long before sy has most of the sect wrapped around his finger.

he becomes qiong ding's head disciple. and then everything changes.

sy's admiration for his shizun isn't very subtle. waiting on yqy on hand and foot, making sure the food are his favorites, ensuring his comfort at meetings, listening to him, comforting him, and so on. at first, they thought nothing of it. most of them had a crush on yqy at some point in their lives. but then, yqy indulges his head disciple by giving him trinkets and sweets, when normally, his indulgent gift giving is limited to sqq and sqq alone.

oh no. cang qiong is unsure how they should feel about this turn of events. some are excited to see sqq fall from his high horse, losing the sect leader's favor. some are worried that there would be a bloodbath. some try to stay away from qing jing and qiong ding as much as possible, especially after sqq's radio silence.

it was an an ding disciple who discovered it first– that sqq has been leaving sy gifts of his own. extravagant and handmade gifts. paintings, literary works, calligraphy brushes, embroidered robes... and then someone says that they've witnessed sqq telling sy that he's always welcome on qing jing, should he find qiong ding lacking.

it starts off a chain reaction. now everyone is convinced that yqy likes sqq, but sqq likes sy, but sy likes yqy. yqy is trying to be nice to sy in hopes of gaining sqq's favor, but the qing jing peak lord only has eyes for his warmhearted disciple. said disciple hopelessly longs for yqy and remains gentle but impersonal with sqq.

in reality, yqy spends much time convincing the shens that he loves them both bc of his own heart and not bc of anything else. sqq is affronted that they think he dislikes yqy. have they not seen him accept yqy's embarrassing actions with only a grumble? have they not noticed that the sect leader's guan and robes are created by his very own hands? also, sy clearly reciprocates his feelings! he wouldn't have accepted sqq's gifts or be making labor-intensive sweets for him otherwise.

meanwhile, sy is wondering just what the heck is going on.

#svsss #shen yuan #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #qijiuyuan #i chanted qijiuyuan in my head three times and out came this

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gloomwitchwrites · 10 months ago

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What if prompt for the 141: In the Rain

"It's pouring rain, why are you here?" Or something to this nature. I love a confession in the rain, stuck in the rain, kissing in the rain, all of it! Lol

I too love a good confession in the rain. That final scene in Pride & Prejudice is still peak confession in the rain trope for me. I think about it all the time. I think about it on repeat. I want it tattooed on my eyelids. When I think "in the rain," I think of that scene.

So, these aren't smutty by any means but one (maybe two) have some spice to them. They are full of love and longing. There are emotions, angst, and lots of kissing. It's our soaked to the bone 141 boys confessing their hearts in the pouring rain.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief mention of alcohol, suggestive themes, grief/mourning, love confessions, kissing, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings, intimacy, non-descriptive sex

Word Count: 3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

There are few things that John Price indulges in.

Cigars. Whiskey. The thought of you as his woman.

That last one plagues him. It burrows in. Makes a home every night to flood his dreams with images of you. John awakens each morning with you on his mind—and then you linger the rest of the day, crawling forward to say hello when he least expects it.

John sits on a barstool in a dive bar, contemplating life in the bottom of his whiskey glass. It’s the middle of fucking nowhere, but that’s the point. This isn’t a celebration or a job well done. This is a “thank fuck it’s over” drink.

The dive bar is dark and smoky. A jukebox in the corner endlessly rotates between eighties rock and country music. Next to the jukebox is a pool table where a group of three play. Otherwise, the place is entirely empty.

John knocks back the rest of his whiskey, signaling the bartender for a refill. He’s only half-listening to the conversations around him.

Laswell, MacTavish, Garrick, and Riley are all here. Simon is silent, staring off into space as the other three have an animated conversation. You’re here too, sandwiched between MacTavish and Riley. You’re not speaking, but you are listening, nodding your head at all the right moments.

But you look tired. Like you’re about ready to pack it up and call it a night. It’s deserved. This mission sucked. It was brutal. Tough. A complete shit-eating stink of a job. You aren’t part of the team. Not really. Laswell dragged you in last second, and John is happy that she did. Otherwise, he’d never have met you.

And that would be a tragedy.

John only has eyes for you. It is a sweet tooth that cannot be satiated. He’s been a bit reserved in how he’s approached you, but you always have a soft smile for him or a cheeky remark. It’s devolved into flirting at times, and at points so blatant that everyone else chimes in.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you yawn, pushing your empty glass to the edge of the bar. The bartender walks by and snags it, whisking it away to be deposited into the sink.

This is it. You’re about to walk away. John will likely never see you again unless Laswell decides to call on you. This might very well be his only chance.

You slip off your barstool, and John abruptly stands, his leg smacking into Laswell’s stool. Everyone—including Simon—turns in John’s direction.

He coughs. Clears his throat. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he says quickly.

MacTavish smirks and elbows Gas in the arm. The two men exchange a knowing glance before they both raise their eyebrows at John. MacTavish even shakes his shoulders a bit. John shoots them a cold look over your shoulder. They stifle their laughter behind their glasses.

You don’t notice at all. Your focus is on John, and that’s exactly how he wants it.

The entrance of the dive consists of one interior door, a small entryway, and an exterior door. As the two of you enter the small entryway, a crack of thunder erupts overhead. You pause, staring out the small window on the exterior door. It’s not pouring, but the rain is steady. Getting caught it in for any period of time will likely result in soaked clothes.

You turn slightly in his direction, and John is suddenly aware of how cramped the space is.

“You don’t need to walk me to my car,” you say softly, gesturing toward the downpour. “Not with the rain.”

John shrugs. “I want to.”

It’s true. He does. But there is an ulterior motive here. This is his one chance to have a final goodbye or a new start.

You smile softly, gaze flicking down to the floor before returning to his face. John’s cheeks heat—and it’s ridiculous. He’s a grown fucking man. He doesn’t get flustered. But this space is small. It is far too cramped. John is nearly on top of you.

Beneath those long eyelashes are your gentle eyes. It’s a look you only give him. Your lips part slightly. They’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. He wants nothing more than to lean down and close the distance.

“Okay,” you reply with a teasing laugh, opening the door.

The earthy scent of rain hits him first and then the pattering of the falling rain comes next. You slip out the door and stand close to the building under the small awning, attempting to stay out of the rain. John follows behind, coming up next to you.

Your smile is sweet as you gaze up into the dark sky. But then you turn to him, and that smile morphs into something devious.

“Should we race to the car?” you ask, as if conspiring.

John grins. “Think you can beat me?”

You laugh. “An old man like you? Absolutely.”

John can’t help but smile back, nudging you with his elbow. “Not that old.”

“What do I get if I win?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“A kiss,” says John automatically. It rolls right off his tongue. There is no way for him to take it back. And he doesn’t want to. “What do I get if I win?”

You wait a beat. And then answer.

“A kiss,” you reply slowly.

A kiss.

John blinks, his mind momentarily stuttering out. Your grin widens, and then you’re off, sprinting into the rain and to the car.

John nearly trips as he jogs after you. The gravel is slick and the rain splatters against his jacket. He isn’t all that interested in racing. John is only watching you, and the way your ass bounces as you make for the car. Your curves are lovely. He imagines opening the rear door and pushing you into the back seat, only to drag you into his lap to take whatever he wants.

You make it before he does, but John is right behind, nearly sliding to a stop in the wet gravel. You turn toward him, grinning. Pieces of hair stick to the sides of your face. John cannot help himself. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you in.

You don’t resist. You surrender.

John’s mouth crashes against yours and you open beautifully for him. There is no one kiss. There are many. Multitudes. It is endless. It is rain-laced. Whiskey-drenched. John might have the buzz of alcohol in his veins but you are quickly replacing it.

Your lips part and John slides his tongue inside. Your hands grab at him, fingers digging in. The two of you are pressed together, rain falling to drench clothing and skin.

With a low groan, John pushes you up against the car, intensifying his kisses. You eagerly greet him, accepting them all, returning them in equal measure. You are just as desperate. Just as hungry. Time is an illusion—and it isn’t until you shiver beneath him that John pulls away, aware that the two of you are now soaked through.

“Why are you still here?” you ask.

“You don’t know?” he replies, his hand cupping your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“It’s pouring, John.”

“I know.” You smile, and John goes in for one more kiss. “Do you not feel this? Am I the only one?”

You shake your head. “I feel it. Everywhere, John. I feel you everywhere.”

“Let’s go. Get out of here.”

“Right now?”

John’s grip tightens and you gasp, hips pressing against his.

“Right now.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The rain is light but steady. It falls from the cloudy sky to patter against your umbrella.

The graveyard is empty, and yet you knew Simon would be here. He always is on the anniversary of Johnny’s death. Like clockwork. It’s routine for him. A ritual.

Simon’s back is to you, his head bent as he stands in front of Johnny’s grave. There is no body there. It’s ornamental. Something for family and friends. There are fresh flowers next to the headstone.

You have no idea how long Simon has been out here. Simon has no umbrella with him, and the hood of his jacket is off. He’ll catch a chill like this, which is why you came. Seeing him like this is always difficult, and since Johnny’s passing, Simon has grown more attached.

He is always checking in on you—always near. You’d call it protectiveness but it feels more like obligation. A duty. Most days, Simon appears to be on the cusp of telling you something, revealing a secret that he’s itching to confess. You don’t know what it might be. Couldn’t take a guess. But you have thought about it. You have imagined all sorts of possibilities.

The two of you are always finding the other. Always reconnecting. Always reaching out. If it’s not him, it’s you. Perhaps it’s Johnny’s death that has brought this on. Whatever it might be, Simon is closer to you than he’s ever been, and sometimes it frightens you.

It feels like more.

“I brought you an umbrella,” you say to Simon’s back.

He turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder. Simon’s gaze sweeps from the ground and then lands on you. His hair is wet and droplets of water speckle his face like freckles.

Simon fully turns toward you.

The rain picks up a bit, soaking Simon further. You rush to him, holding your umbrella over his head, cutting off the rain. The two of you stand under it in silence, simply staring at each other. Time stretches, and then Simon’s hand rises, wrapping around your own where you hold to the handle.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

You swallow, and gather your courage. “You shouldn’t grieve alone.”

Simon’s brow softens. “I’m supposed to be the one looking after you.”

“I never asked you to,” you reply.

“But Johnny did.”

You start, eyes widening slightly. “What do you mean?”

Simon licks his lips. A droplet of water drips from the tip of his nose. “I made a promise. To Johnny. I made a promise to him.”

“What promise?” you whisper as the rain picks up more. The rain strikes the top of the umbrella in loud patters that nearly drown out your voice.

Another droplet falls from Simon’s nose. He leans in slightly, and the movement is confusing. It’s too intimate, like he wants to close the distance.

“I promised that I would—” he abruptly cuts off, swallowing. Simon’s gaze darts from your eyes to your lips and then back again.

“What is it, Simon?”

He sighs. “Fuck it,” he growls, shredding any distance there might have been between your bodies.

Simon claims your lips, kissing you so completely that you’re momentarily stunned. You taste the rain. Mint. A slight hint of smoke. You return the kiss, not pushing him away or pulling back. You open for him, accepting it all, and Simon continues to take, his free arm wrapping around your waist to draw you closer.

Even though he’s drenched, Simon is incredibly warm. It’s unfair how he can be an inferno in this downpour.

The graveyard is forgotten. The rain is a distant. There is only Simon’s lips, and the groan he makes when you return each kiss in equal enthusiasm.

Simon goes in for a quick nip before drawing away. It leaves you breathless and wanton.

“Was that part of the promise?” you ask, only half-joking.

Simon shrugs. “In a way.” You arch an eyebrow and Simon smiles softly. “I told Johnny I’d make a move. And now I have.”

“Yes,” you agree, heat blooming in your cheeks and your core. “You have.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

There is no turning back.

You made a choice. Kyle made a choice.

This is how it is.

You don’t want to be at the airport. You don’t want to leave. This entire situation is shit. But Kyle seemed willing to let you go. He’s not here. He didn’t beg you to stay. He didn’t try to convince you that all he wants in life is you.

That’s all you need. To be wanted. To be loved.

After all of this—after everything, and Kyle isn’t here.

You’re not mad. Not really. You are both adults. You both have made a choice. Just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean you don’t understand. Because at the end of the day, you do. Truly.

Sighing, you haul your suitcase over the curb and on the sidewalk. The Uber that brought you here is already pulling away to go pick up someone else. The airport is packed on the inside, and the rain that falls from the sky in sheets. You have a coat, and the hood is up, but what you really need is an umbrella.

Already, you feel the water seeping into the unprotected places. Rain does that sometimes. Trickles in where it isn’t wanted.

You start to pull your suitcase behind you. A wheel catches in a small crack, and it nearly takes you down with it. Stumbling forward, you put a hand out to catch your fall. You expect your bare palm to land on concrete. To burn with pain.

But you don’t make it to the ground. You don’t touch it at all.

There are arms around you. They are strong. And somehow so damn familiar it’s frightening.

Then, you’re being lifted, guided back to your feet. Those strong arms ease you onto solid ground, and then you’re turning to thank the stranger that’s saved you from falling face first into the concrete.

But it is no stranger.

“Kyle,” you breathe, staring into the face of the man you’ve loved for years now.

Something breaks. Shatters.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Kyle hasn’t let you go. His arms are still around you. Your hands grasp his biceps, and his jacket is slick with rain. His hood is not up. And yours has fallen at some point. Already, the rain is soaking your hair. Strands of it stick to your face.

“Coming to right a wrong,” he says. Your lips part but Kyle shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t fight hard enough. I let you slip through the cracks.”

Kyle draws you in a bit closer. The people passing by and the cars are distant.

“I should have told you ‘I love you’ every day. I should have been present.”

“Kyle—”

Your next words are stolen. Kyle closes the distance, and then you’re wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, sinking into the kiss.

You can’t leave now.

You can’t.

John "Soap" MacTavish

The rain falls gently from the sky.

Johnny grins, staring up into it, opening his mouth. His tongue is out to capture the droplets. You laugh, and wrap your arms around his shoulders, going in for a quick kiss on his cheek.

As you draw back, one of Johnny’s hands shoots out, snagging your arm. You playfully yelp, and swat at him, thinking that Johnny will let you go. He’s flirty, and sweet, but there is nothing more to it.

At least, you didn’t think so.

But Johnny’s gaze is heated, and the way he holds you against him is far too intimate to be anything other than what it is.

“Johnny,” you laugh, trying to play it off, but he remains firm.

His smile faulters slightly but it’s not a frown. It’s a heated stare. His gaze is on your lips, and you can see the desire there. What would happen if you went for it? If you kissed him?

“What are we doing?” he asks. “Can’t I have you?”

Startled, everything leaves your head. “What?”

Johnny’s gaze flicks up, and those gorgeous eyes drown you—submerging you in his depths. “Why are we stepping around this? We want each other.”

You do want him, but you thought it was mostly one-sided.

“Is that what you want?” you ask, softly.

Johnny smirks, and then he’s lifting you up into the air, placing you on top of the low stone wall. “Should I use my words?” he asks, fingers sliding underneath your rain-drenched shirt. He is warm, and his touch heats your skin. “Or should I show you with my body?”

Johnny nips at your bottom lip as his hands ascend. One slides between your breasts just as his lips meet yours. Your core clenches, and then you’re grabbing for him, touching him as much as he’s touching you.

The two of you are in the Scottish countryside. There are no people around. Just the two of you, and rolling green hills.

Johnny slots himself between your legs, and you reach beneath his kilt, finding him hard and wanting. He hisses, and then groans when you stroke him.

Everything is warm. Everything is rough.

It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, or that it’s a bit cold. You allow Johnny to shove articles of clothing aside, to find the places where you’re needing him to be. His touch is a brand, and you love how it feels, pulsing through your loins like an overheated engine.

“Johnny,” you gasp into the rain, fingers threading through his hair as he goes to his knees to taste between your thighs.

There is only heavy breath. A twisting of pleasure.

When he finally brings your bodies together, there is nothing but him. Nothing but you. Just two people finding each other.

The rain is nothing.

It isn’t even cold anymore.

Johnny is all heat. And you are burning for him.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@arrozyfrijoles23 @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

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cherrxboy · 2 months ago

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I had this idea and I HAD to write it because I know my bitchass would NOT write it any other time (it's 5 in the morning and I haven't slept)

CW: explicit smut, I think - GN!reader - Mean!Satoru - uhhh rough seggs - Toru being an asshole - eating out/bj/whatever (reader receiving) - overstimulation I believe - a bit (probably a lot) of degrading/humiliation and stuff... he calls you a slut like two times - pet names used: baby, sweets, love - he refers to himself as "daddy" once but there's nothing else about that - mentions of death but like he's just joking - aftercare. (Not proofread) tell me if I missed anything!

English is my second language and I'm sleep deprived auauughh this is probably shit but I hope you enjoy hehe cause I personally love mean!Satoru he makes me go tehehehhehwojspsjpsj. Sorry if there are any typos ;((

♡

We've all read the fics, we've all seen the man, we've watched the show and I can't get this image outta my head, this little broken tape going off in my brain that Satoru is one of the biggest meanies when y'all are going at it. Doesn't matter what you are, what's in your pants, if you're giving or taking– he's mean.

Satoru is the type of guy that would keep you spread for him while he goes down on you, not caring if your thighs start to cramp or your legs feel sore. At some point it's not even about your pleasure anymore. He just wants to see how far he can push you, what new faces you can make, what little noises he can take out of you and Oh his favorite: how many times can he make you cum with just his mouth in a certain time limit.

He starts going and counts, each and every one of your orgasms, while also keeping track of the time. He's the strongest, he's definitely broken some records and one thing he really loves is breaking his own records. How many times can he make you cum in 15 minutes? How about 10? How about 2?!

"C'mon, love..."

"just one more, yeah? Oh I know, I know it's hurting but I'm almost breaking my last record, isn't that amazing??"

"Puh-leaseee? I'm making you feel good too, aren't I? Don't deny it, babe. I'm pretty sure everyone heard us with how loud you were being."

"No no no, I'm not saying it's baaad. Actually, makes me curious about how many noise complaints we can get in a week–"

Satoru is the type of guy to literally make fun of you while he's rearranging your guts. The type of guy that laughs in your face when you're crying all prettily, telling him that 'oh you can't take it' or how 'it's too big!' He's folding you in half at this point, not even letting you look away, hide your face in the pillows or anything as one of his hands keeps you still for him and the other holds onto your face, cupping you cheeks and squishing them together to make your face all pouty and adorable; you're just drooling and your eyes keep rolling back but Oh you better pay attention to him otherwise he's slowing down until you're begging for him to go faster and harder.

His thrusts suddenly become so weak and lazy and it's just not enough but he doesn't care, doesn't care that it practically hurts him too, he just wants to see you try and beg him to move with that fucked out lil brain of yours.

"Ah- Ah- Ah~! Harder, Toru! Puh-leaseee, faster, daddy!" As he giggles and mimics your voice (very horribly).

"Oh it's too big? But you're taking it so well, love, look at you! Shiiit~ I'm all the way in your tummy, see? Yeahhh well maybe you can't with all those tears but I definitely can."

"Hey, eyes on me, sweets– thereee we go~ Lemme see your pretty face, yeah?"

"What was that? Oh you're gonna cum? Again? That's a bit rude, baby, don't you think? You're being really greedy tonight. But it's okay, you can cum~ I'm feeling generous tonigt."

Satoru is the type of guy to pull on your hair when he's fucking you from behind, just to bring you closer to himself and make your back arch almost uncomfortably, just to whisper dirty ass shits in your ears that he knows would get you off.

He's got you on all fours and his free hand is on your ass, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh as he pounds into you, sometimes giving it a little smack, groaning and moaning deeply against your neck and sometimes whimpering if you give a roll of your own hips as well. He's not shy and doesn't see why some guys hold back their moans... you seem to like it a lot, so he definitely won't stay quiet.

"Fuuuck baby~ you're so tight and so fucking warm– mmm! I'm gonna break you... uh-huh, you're gonna stay here in bed for at least a week, sweets. And I'm gonna take good care of you, yeah? You'd like that, wouldn't you? Staying here, full of my cum as we just cuddle and hide away from the world... I'll give you load after load, baby, as many as you want~"

"Taking my cock so fucking well, like a good little slut– no no no, don't you dare run away, sweets~ fuckkk... I can feel you squeezin' me, baby. You like when I call you that? Like when I treat you like the lil slut you are?"

"Oh fuck– please, give it to me sweets, please! Wanna feel you, baby, wanna feel you tightening up– shiiit.. just like that! I'm gonna fill you up so good~ just a little more, 'k? You can take it... yeah you can, good job~"

Satoru is the type of guy that's mean during sex but Oh so sweet afterwards. Man does not care how many rounds you've all been through or how tired he is... he's giving you a nice warm bath and a massage because he just can't have his sweet partner be in pain, can he?

He talks all that shit about making you unable to walk but god he thinks he'd die if he had to stay in bed with you for a whole day! He loves you, don't get me wrong. He loves spending time with you and just being with you merely in your presence but he's an active person to say the least and he can't just sit still for more than 10 minutes!

So you best believe he's giving you the best aftercare as soon as you guys are done. A glass of water to sooth your throat, soft towels to clean you up with, a nice warm bath along with a massage to make sure you won't be sore by the next few hours and finally he takes you to bed and cuddles you, kissing you all over your face and mumbling little "I love you"s again and again and again.

"You were so good for me today... such an angel. God, I'm so lucky to have you."

"I love you, you know that, right? I love you so much. You're the best thing that happened to me. I love you... did I mention that I love you??"

"If you ever leave me I'm gonna cry myself to death and then haunt you in your dreams and possibly fuck you there if you let me. Sorry, was that too descriptive? I just love you so much, sweets. You can't blame a guy for loving his amazing wonderful perfect sexy partner, can you?"

♡

First post and it's a thirst daaaamn. I'm not making a good first impression y'all I'm sorry 😞☝️

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kqutie · 4 months ago

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EPIC: THE FAIR MAIDEN

sum. : You wake up in the EPIC: The Musical universe on Odysseus’ boat just as they’ve set sail back to Ithaca. And you just so happen to be equipped with the skills and game mechanics of your favourite comfort game: Animal Crossing: New Horizons. Might as well go with the flow and help your favourite characters get home safe.

relationships : platonic various epic characters/female reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polites/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic elpenor/reader ; platonic perimedes/reader ; hermes/reader ; poseidon/reader

tags. : EPIC x ACNH ; reader is a comfort gamer ; female reader ; modern day reader ; pure comfort ; reader helps ody get home ; happy ending for everyone! ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; characters know their future ; hermes is a flirty menace ; poseidon tried to shoot his shot and failed

the 'got-carried-away' version w/ romance chapters :

[❀ : short imagine]

one : the second miracle two : the favourable circumstance three : the new island ❀ you didn't have to kiss her hermes four : the washed-up stranger ❀ let her go, hermes five : the journey home ⌊new⌉ six : the timely return [finale]

...

the 'back-to-my-origins' version w/out romance chapters :

one : the hunger ends two : the island paradise three : ...

inspiration : i was inspired by my love and current obsession of epic the musical as well as my love for fix it fics, the animal crossing: new horizons game and the isekai and transmigration genre -- put together, it's all very niche so im writing this purely for fun and i'm happy to have anyone read this at all

fanart fair maiden oc :

Theo created by the talented, wonderful @sweatinghoneybee -- go send her all the love right now! (fanart of Theo) Delphi (colour ver.) created by the lovely and sweet @yuksssss -- please send her all the love too!

disclaimer : i barely know anything about greek mythology and I haven't read the odyssey at all so my interpretations and characterisations are purely based on EPIC: the musical's retelling -- i apologise in advance, i'm so sorry my loves (⸝⸝⸝╸﹏╺⸝⸝⸝)

taglist (not so platonic ver.) : @bluepanda08 @doodle-with-rhy @sunshinedaisy21 @jolixtreesunn @ellaprime7 @marcelemry @nishayuro @hijinkxy @kerosene-demon @windrosesrasta @keikeiluvyou @darling-eos @iamapotatoe @yuzxi18 @woncloudie @permanently-nothere @ash1 @barrythestrawberry041 @trashcannotbealive @yuksssss @reisinnie @evg6287 @athanasia-day @fuji-sen @yourlocaleffy @magdalenacarmila @carrotcakeandcoffee @mousedit @tomarisela @onlybe-satanonce @atanukileaf @starmee-lodurrson @depressinglyobsessed ... [open]

taglist (purely platonic ver.) : @barrythestrawberry041 @yuksssss @bloobewy ... [open]

property of kqutie ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

art/visual media does not belong to me

#epic the musical #epic the musical fanfiction #odysseus x penelope #epic odysseus #epic polites #epic eurylochus #epic the musical x reader #epic telemachus #epic musical #odysseus #penelope of ithaca #epic the musical x you #epic hermes #acnh au #isekai au #reader insert #mute reader

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wannaeatramyeon · 3 months ago

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Gun Park x Reader: Awkward Flirtations

G/N. Gun can't flirt but you catch the signals anyway. Masterlists

Gun doesn't flirt. Or at least, he has never tried.

Curse him and his stupidly good looks, he has never had to. He's a straight talking, cut the bullshit kind of guy, which may lead to people giving him funny looks if he was anyone else but this is Gun Park. There is no lack of confidence, no lack of handsomeness, and everyone that he has fallen into bed with, he has done so with very little effort.

The other thing is he has never liked anyone before. Goo declares he himself is falling in love with someone every other week. Of course you're a fool if you believe a single word that comes out of that blonde's mouth but Gun suspects Goo has never liked anyone before either.

There's never been any sort of romance in Gun's life; he doesn't have the time or the inclination for it. He has his needs fulfilled and then prefers not to see them ever again. Days are better off spent training or chasing money.

And yet-

Your eyes meet his across the store. You give him a curious look as your lips lift into a smile.

Blood immediately rushes to his face and he feels his heart rate creeping up. He holds two fingers to his neck, measuring his pulse at the same time as his stomach flutters.

Could he be getting sick? Strange. He never gets sick.

Gun engages in stalkerish behaviour. That isn't news.

After all, you can't turn up at the perfect moment during fights, in the rain, without some preparation. Neither can you seek out potential successors without some planning. Legal or otherwise.

But all you have shown him is a sweet smile and like a man possessed, he has found himself in your neighbourhood for three days straight hoping to catch a glimpse of you again.

He reasoned that it's his instinct. Subconsciously he must have realised he could train you to be his prodigy-

And miraculously at that moment, you appear into view and trip over the sidewalk, catch yourself then trip once more on what looks like, Gun squints and confirms that it is indeed thin air, and slip backwards.

With anyone else, he would have dismissed his previous thoughts on seeing this, and left, disappointed and annoyed for wasting his own time. All coherent thought vanishes, however, as he rushes over to catch you from falling over.

You gasp as a strong arm snakes around you. Instead of hitting your head with a thud, you find a stranger peering down and holding you firmly.

"Oof, thanks." Gun is rewarded with a lopsided grin and he feels his ears burn.

He helps you upright and slowly unwraps his arm from around your waist with a little reluctance.

You brush yourself off, asking. "Have we met?"

Gun pauses, feeling full force the gut punch of that question to his ego. He is anything but forgettable.

"The other day in that store," he nods to the 711 a little way down the street.

"I thought I recognised you."

The ego is soothed.

Awkwardness creeps in as Gun thinks of something to prolong this moment, keep you around. Small talk that he usually hates though in this instance he would actually like to find out how you are doing, how your day is going, what your plans are. If you've eaten yet, are you hungry, what foods you like, did you want to grab something-

Amidst his own rambling thoughts - which is another first - you give him an easy out.

"I owe you one but I gotta go." You smile like you genuinely regret cutting this short and the odd fluttering in Gun's stomach starts again. "Can I have your number?"

"Stop that."

"What?"

Goo's face comes unbearably close and Gun considers headbutting him.

"Stop smiling. It's creepy." Goo backs away, likely having sensed Gun's violent musings, and pulls a face, muttering about how he didn't even know Gun could smile.

"Fuck you."

Someone somewhere has made up a nonsense rule about not appearing too eager by messaging too soon.

Luckily for Gun, he doesn't pay attention to such ridiculousness. He works his way through seven cigarettes as he thinks of what to text you.

In the end, he settles for-

Gun: Hey

Eagle-eyed, he watches over the next half hour as the message turns from unread to read and-

And nothing. No further reply. He frowns. He rereads his 'hey' and follows up with-

Gun: This is Gun Park.

Gun: How are you?

That instantly changes to read and your status moves to typing.

Y/N: Heeeey!

Y/N: This is a cute surprise

Y/N: Happy to hear from you and thanks again for saving me earlier

Y/N: what about you?

Gun: I'm fine thanks.

He watches to see any more messages come through. Again, it changes to read then nothing. He reads his three word response, which is perfectly adequate, but notes he has effectively closed the conversation.

With another frown settling on his face, he types out a further message.

Gun: Are you doing anything today?

Y/N: Nope super boring stuff. Running errands then nothing so lots of free time :) you?

Gun: No.

As Gun's repertoire of small talk dries up, he figures that this will do, it's a start. It's not perfect though he's left satisfied enough. Just as he's about to click his screen off-

Y/N: Fancy grabbing a coffee? On me :)

Gun's fingers move in a blur:

Gun: Ok. Tomorrow.

Y/N: Deal. It's a date!

If Gun was anyone else, he would be kicking his feet and giggling. But he's not.

He simply closes his eyes and exhales as a smile tugs at his lips.

What he does notice, is that this is the same feeling as a good, hard, vicious training session; like pushing his body past its limit to get stronger and better.

A wave of dopamine and euphoria crashes down.

#forever team soft awkward gun!!#i am also sooo not up to date with the manhwa #lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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the-modern-typewriter · 4 months ago

Note

hey , I've been in love with your writing ever since I came across your blog , will you please write about a very intimidating villian who decides to kidnap the hero because he finds him cute when he is absolutely afraid of him

"The man who isn't afraid of anything," the villain mused. He trailed the edge of a blade along the hero's cheek, capturing a silent tear upon the tip. "Look at you now."

"Whatever it is that you want from me, whatever you want to know-"

"-Shh."

The hero's mouth snapped shut.

The villain smiled, crooked with an illusion of wholesome boyishness at the corner.

"You talk when I ask you a question, cutie," the villain said. "The only other sound I want to hear from you otherwise is whimpers. That was your one warning. Nod if you understand?"

Of course, the hero couldn't comfortably nod with a sharp knife against their face; not without digging the blade into suddenly soft skin.

The villain raised an eyebrow.

The hero nodded, very slightly, but even that tiny movement caused the blade tip to dig in. A small bead of blood formed on their perfect features, trickling down towards their jaw. The hero's breath hitched.

The villain's smile grew. "Good boy."

The hero shuddered, one of those whimpers all too ready and startled on his tongue. His eyes were all wide and pretty filled with an animal panic.

The villain reached out a hand, smoothing his palm along the hero's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall, the desperate thumping of his heart like the sweetest melody.

The hero's eyes flinched shut. He trembled in his restraints.

The hero was not, it was true, a man frightened of many things. His abilities left him invulnerable to everything. Well, almost everything, as they had found. The villain's particular gift was to suck away the powers of anyone around him by virtue of his mere presence. The expression on the hero's face when he realised he'd gone from unstoppable god to just a man, to just like everyone else...

Well. It was adorable. The villain had always liked to collect adorable things.

"Please," the hero whispered, like he just couldn't help himself. The once powerful often couldn't.

"Was that a question, my dove?"

"Just let me go. I didn't - I'm sorry I came after you - I didn't - I thought -"

"You thought you could win?" The villain's voice was oh so sweet.

The hero flinched again. He met the villain's gaze and gave another frantic nod as the villain's blade moved on, caressing down their chest to meet the villain's free hand.

"That was stupid, wasn't it? What a silly goose you are."

A delicious, impotent fury flashed through the hero's eyes.

The villain dug the blade in. It was barely even a scratch, but a scratch could be a terrible thing to a man who had never had the privilege of being hurt before, knowing only that it could get much worse.

The fury was entirely drowned out by terror again.

The villain made a show of sighing. "You'll tell me everything?"

"I - what? Yes."

"You'd hand your friends over on a platter? Everyone counting on you?"

The hero's jaw clenched with anguish.

"Hm?" the villain pressed. "Would you hand them all over in exchange for me letting you go?"

"Yes." It was barely above a whisper.

"Go on then."

He let the hero bluster and ramble, trying to tuck away details and secrets, trying to stall, trying to do anything he could to win like he still hadn't quite learned. The villain nodded diligently along, devouring it all.

The hero eventually stuttered to a halt.

The villain waited a beat. The he stabbed the knife gently into the hero's hand.

The hero screamed. Confusion and outrage and guilt joined the terror. There was no longer a single tear, but a flood of them.

Cute, cute, cute.

The villain leaned in, knife moving fast to tilt the hero's head.

"I didn't take you for information," he confessed. "I just took you."

The hero stared at him, almost uncomprehending, eyes glassy. "But - I - what do you want from me"?

The villain pressed a kiss to the hero's nose.

"Nothing."

The hero whimpered again. Just pathetic.

"There's literally nothing you can do to make you let you go, sweetheart," the villain said, in the same confiding tone of voice. "I'm not going to."

The hero shook his head. He seemed to be having difficulty breathing properly. He was reaching the overwhelmed stage of fear, wasn't he? Not the villain's favourite, but a delight nonetheless.

The villain patted the hero's cheek, tender comfort, and stroked his hair. He pulled the hero a little closer, cooing in his ear. He gave him a moment to relax, instincts all disorientated and craving something lovely. He waited until the hero had struggled his breathing back under control, trying oh so hard to be brave. Then.

"You're going to die here, my little love," the villain said. "Now. What should we do about you speaking out of turn?"

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #whump #whumpblr #writeblr #writing #story #villains #heroes

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stardust-swan · 4 months ago

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What Type of Charisma are You Manifesting? ✨

Left to right: 1, 2, 3

Pile 1

You're manifesting vibrant charisma. You are radiating magnetism that draws people in - the type that makes you best friends with everyone in the room even if you only met them five minutes ago. The type that everyone has a little crush on. The type that can make a small gathering feel like a lively extravaganza. You are full of cheer and high-spirited, brimming with fun and excitement.

You're experimenting with your identity, which makes you come across as raw and authentic. You have a lot of power but you have not yet learned how to wield it. You are confident and ambitious, and people sense your potential. Some people might find it intimidating, but others are drawn in by your exuberance and honesty. You are full of passion and energy and are going places quickly, which other people sense as a vibe of spontaneity and excitement. You live for fun, and if things are no longer fun, you don't want to play anymore.

Imagery I associate with your kind of charisma:

Scent: Citrus - sweet, bright, and bold, but it doesn't linger.

Flower: Sunflower or a zinnia.

Animal: Toucan

Artist: Matisse, full of high contrasts and vibrant colours.

Colour: Clear, bright colours, like turquoise, dandelion yellow, Kelly green, sky blue, and tomato red.

Archetype: The Cheerleader or Prom Queen, who rather than being the stereotypical mean girl, is actually very friendly and genuinely beloved by all - the type who is invited to every party and who makes sure to chat with the new kid in the class to make them feel less alone.

Pile 2

You are manifesting regal charisma. This type of charisma exudes poise, confidence, and elegance. People feel like they're hanging out with royalty around you, even if you're wearing jeans and a t-shirt and cracking jokes. But no matter how casual and relaxed you are, you radiate dignity and grace. People are drawn in by your competence, talent, and skill - you're someone that commands respect, a natural leader like a Queen at her throne. Your peers respect you, and people younger than you look up to you.

Sometimes you come across as more reserved than you are. You're afraid of overwhelming people, so you hold yourself back a little. But people can still sense the fire underneath - the big goals, the worldliness, the growth coming full circle. This makes you come across as confident, wise, and a bit mysterious. You have a wicked sense of humour, which softens a demeanour some may otherwise find cold.

Imagery I associate with your kind of charisma:

Scent: Rose - fresh, clean, and feminine.

Flower: Carnation or white camellia.

Animal: Swan

Artist: Diego Velázquez - realistic, dramatic, highly detailed, and technically impressive.

Colour: Jewel tones, like emerald green, garnet, aubergine, and royal blue.

Archetype: The High Queen. Dressed majestically, you sit at your throne, inspiring awe in others. You are kind, regal, and benevolent, beloved by all the land. You bless and reward those who respect you generously.

Pile 3

You are manifesting laid-back charisma. You are very grounded, which puts people at ease. You like to help people grow. You won't do the work for someone else, but you'll support and encourage them as much as you can as long as they do their share (your pet peeve is people refusing to do their share of the work or improve themselves). You carry an air of vulnerability (in a good way) and openness, which gives you a soulful quality. People relate to you easily, and feel comfortable sharing things with you. They perceive you as resilient, someone who can not only emphatise with their struggles, but who has overcome their own struggles and gotten stronger because of them. You are someone who is actively seeking growth, unafraid of getting a bit messy to do so. You have a healing effect on people and will help anyone that needs a hand. You are supportive of your local community, whether that's through participating in the neighborhood cleanup or donating to a local food bank.

Imagery I associate with your type of charisma:

Scent: Sandalwood - soft, woody, and rich.

Flower: Hydrangea

Animal: Dove

Artist: Maxfield Parrish - vibrant, gently blended, and whimsical.

Colour: Gentle, warm colours, like copper, rosewood, cream, moss green, charcoal and lavender.

Archetype: The Earth Mother. You are someone who is wise, nourishing, and gently firm. You have a creative soul, and you find beauty in the ordinary. Like an ancient goddess who has come to Earth to bless us with her presence and love.

#tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card #pick a pile #witchblr

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heartz4shauna · 2 months ago

Text

the wilderness; as lottie’s “muse”

warnings: reader basically being a test subject, reader is shorter than lottie (only mentioned once), slight manipulation from lottie, season 3 lottie being a warning in itself, alcohol/drug use (not really), shaunahat mention, taivan mention, etc.

۶ৎ you’d never have thought you’d be in this position.

۶ৎ hell, you never thought you’d be in any of this mess.

۶ৎ it had been a few months since that dramatic coronation of natalie’s, and yet you were still adjusting to.. well, everything.

۶ৎ while everyone else had already seemed to be used to the idea of never being apart of society again, you struggled. sure, everyone had their own ways of coping; shauna and her little.. friend?, tai and van with their witty remarks as usual.

۶ৎ but, there was one that stood out to you most. lottie and travis’ trips away from everyone else to.. do what exactly?

۶ৎ you didn’t know exactly. did anyone? the only thing you were sure of was that travis’ vocal chords were sure as hell shredded.

۶ৎ everyone noticed that part. you’d be dumb not to.

۶ৎ aside from coping mechanisms, you spent a lot of your time around the animal pen with akilah. you couldn’t help but be drawn to the docile nature of the animals. especially after all of the ravenous behaviour you had experienced months before.

۶ৎ travis, after a particularly tough session of coping, wandered in awfully close to the animal pen. you couldn’t blame him, he slept very near it, coincidentally enough.

۶ৎ it didn’t take long for you or akilah to notice him. you thought it’d be best to leave him be. akilah thought otherwise.

۶ৎ you tried to pull her back down to you, saying that he just needs some space, but she refused. she picked up your best duck and approached him, “you wanna hold Mortimer?” in that sweet tone of hers. you almost envied her constant kindness.

۶ৎ due to travis’ lucky streak, lottie found him about a minute after holding the duck.

۶ৎ after an awkwardly short conversation, with a bit of persuasion from lotties end, she found refuge next to you as you watched the rabbits.

۶ৎ “hey.” was all she muttered, giving you a soft smile. you could only glance at her, not wanting to give her a chance at doing her travis thing with you.

۶ৎ giving one last pat to a favoured rabbit of yours, you decided to properly acknowledge her. “hi lott,” you sighed out as you stood up from the ground. you dusted your hands off and placed them firmly on your hips as lottie followed you upwards. she stumbled slightly as she rose from the ground, and you had to let out a quiet chuckle.

۶ৎ the height difference between the two of you was noticeable, but she could never intimidate you. you’d seen her before when she was like this; soft, quiet. it was impressive how stealthily she could manipulate someone.

۶ৎ “uh, travis said you’ve been hearing It. or, trying to,” is what she followed up with. god, she really didn’t know how to be subtle, did she? no buttering up was needed.

۶ৎ “oh, is that what he said?” you chuckled out, turning your head away and down from her slightly. you had never been one of the main believers in “It,” to say the least. during winter, you went to one prayer circle. it was hard not to, especially since you couldn’t deny the connection between lottie and the wilderness.

۶ৎ since the doomcoming, she had some sort of power over the group. you had been there when she decided to tell jackie straight up “you don’t matter anymore.” you were there when she wore the antlers. when she killed the bear. when she crowned natalie the queen. she called the shots, even if she wasn’t in charge, because she knew deep down she was connected to the wilderness.

۶ৎ she followed alongside you as you left the pen, making your way to your hut, “maybe you’d like to really connect with It?” she didn’t know whether or not she meant it as a question, but she sounded unsure of herself. as you stopped outside of the entrance of your hut she added, “help us find out what It wants.”

۶ৎ you sighed before you turned to face her once again, and she noticed the irritated expression on your face before you could say anything. her eyes lacked any sort of emotion when she asked “do you feel It?”

۶ৎ needless to say, that got the two of you a couple of glares from the rest of the group; a whisper from mari to gen. you chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously and gently tugged her into your hut.

۶ৎ lottie gave you a sort of confused look, her eyebrows creasing slightly as you instructed her to sit down. reluctantly, she took a seat. you sat opposite her on your very own makeshift mattress made out of old clothes and leaves.

۶ৎ you took a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking in a quiet tone. “look, lott. i dunno what travis told you, but.. i don’t hear the wilderness. i don’t hear It. at all.”

۶ৎ she let out a short chuckle that almost went unnoticed, and her eyebrows creased together slightly like she didn’t understand what you were trying to say. “why would he lie? you do feel It, don’t you?”

۶ৎ poor lottie, you thought. she really couldn’t see that look on his face when he lied? when he tried to “be a man”? you thought it was obvious, with the way he looked like a kicked puppy.

۶ৎ you let a breath out through your nose, “lottie-” before she interrupted you with a quick “just once. just to see. if it doesn’t work, we don’t have to do it again. i promise.”

۶ৎ over the span of a few days, you tried to separate yourself from lottie as much as you could, to keep yourself safe. you knew you wouldn’t be farther than arms length. she’d find a way to sit next to you when it was time for dinner, and try to make conversation. each conversation eventually ended up being about one main topic; It.

۶ৎ after spending a few days of avoiding lottie as much as you could, you finally agreed to be apart of lotties experiment. it did take a lot of convincing, both from lottie and travis, that you just had to give in.

۶ৎ she led you hand in hand, her thumb almost subconsciously rubbing over the back of your hand as if to soothe your nerves which she was sure were shot. she sat you down gently against the bark of a tree and knelt next to you, cup in hand.

۶ৎ “you got this. it’s okay,” she kept whispering to you, like a mantra, as you took small sips of the bitter liquid.

۶ৎ being drunk or high or whatever it is you were while drinking that tea, you were a lot less giggly compared to travis, lottie said. more stoic, even.

۶ৎ you didn’t feel stoic, not at all. your heartbeat was racing, everything around you spinning and contorting. yet, you couldn’t hear anything.

۶ৎ you shook your head firmly as lottie tried to raise the cup to your lips again and widened her eyes expectantly. “what do you hear?”

۶ৎ shrugging slightly, you answered with a simple “nothing.” lottie didn’t like that. she needed details, to know exactly how you were feeling. any tic, and hitch of your breath, she was sure to notice it.

۶ৎ she repeated her question in a slightly firmer tone, “what do you hear? listen.”

۶ৎ you knew it was probably best to give her what she wanted when she was like this. “my.. heartbeat. it’s, like, drumming in my ears. it’s so loud, lottie,” you told her, on the brink of dry heaving.

۶ৎ lottie raised a heavy hand and placed it on your chest. it felt cold against your skin, despite the weather and your own raised temperature. lottie had always ran cold.

۶ৎ she nodded, her eyes were empty like she was looking through you. “i feel that. i’ve got you. breathe.” her eyes came back to the moment, and took a deep breath, coaxing you to do as she was.

۶ৎ you took a deep breath, but it got caught in your throat, hitching. it felt like time had slowed and everything was still; every whistle of wind through the trees was gone, every thump of your heartbeat was silenced. then lottie was gone.

۶ৎ you shouted out for her until your voice was hoarse, and despite your efforts, you were still stuck sitting against the tree. it occurred to you then that you shouldn’t have let her do this.

۶ৎ suddenly, all of your shouting came back to you in higher pitches of your voice, almost as if It was mocking you. it was like the wilderness knew you couldn’t hear It. you clasped your hands over your ears and hummed to yourself, trying to drown out the sounds.

۶ৎ when you finally snapped out of your state, lottie was back in front of you, grasping at you, her eyes blown wide, “what happened? talk to me.”

۶ৎ you gasped as you came back to your consciousness and dropped your hands from your ears, holding them against your chest. you were trying to tell lottie about what happened as quickly as you possibly could before it disappeared from your memory. “lottie- oh, my god. lottie, i.. i was shouting for you, and you were gone. the wilderness, It- i don’t know what it wants. It screamed at me, like it was me.”

۶ৎ she almost sighed a breath of relief as she heard you say that. “so, you heard It? It spoke to you?” she asked, giving herself a reassuring nod.

۶ৎ you wanted to deny it. you didn’t want her to win, to be her next subject. but, you knew you shouldn’t lie to her. she’s caught you out on lies more than enough times for you to know she calls you out on purpose. even here, her personality shines through. she knew that travis was lying, she just needed someone fresh.

۶ৎ “uh, yeah. i think so,” was all that you told her, you didn’t want to give her too much detail. you knew that if you did, she’d keep to coming to you to talk to It. you’d end up in travis’ state in no more than a week or two.

۶ৎ she gave a soft, delighted sounding chuckle and she pushed herself up from the ground. “good. good.” she looked down at you and put her hand out for you to take.

۶ৎ you slowly took her hand into yours and she pulled you up as you tried to gain your balance for a moment. she smiled once you were standing upright again. “we can try again tomorrow. see if you can hear anything else It has to say to you.”

۶ৎ tomorrow? try again tomorrow? god. even that sounded like too much for you. you were already a little shook up by what happened just a few minutes ago, and she’s already sprung tomorrow onto you.

۶ৎ “again tomorrow? lott, i dunno. i mean..” she had already started walking back to camp when you said this. she turned to face you again and she grabbed your hand, pulling you along with her. “yes. again tomorrow. it’ll be easier this way.” will it? “we’ll find out quicker what It wants. if we wait, you might tap out of It.”

۶ৎ she stopped abruptly and dropped your hand. you glanced down at your hand and back up at her, your face contorting in confusion. then, she ever so slowly turned her head to look at you. she looked you over for a second before her gaze came back up to your face, and a flicker of something shone from behind her dark eyes. “don’t you wanna help us get home?”

# look at my trip sitter bruh i’m gonna die 😭

divider creds: v6que & anitalenia

a/n: no the buffy sainte marie song doesn’t work it’s a screenshot don’t fret LOL. haven’t written anything since before new years so yes i AM rusty and no i dont wanna hear nothing. but lottie is brain rotting me so hard so yay! before anyone says my writing is bad i promise i KNOWWWWWWW i just love her and yeah okay. that’s all 😇💗

#daisy writes again #yellowjackets #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #wlw

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yunopouts · 2 years ago

Text

scream - l. jeno

-> lee jeno x fem reader

-> frat! au, pure smut (jeno lee is one nasty mother fucker in this one y'all)

-> CW: dom! jeno, rough sex(??), choking, edging, a small... TINY (VERY TINY) bit of ass play, protected sex, handjob, overuse of the word fuck, overstim, head god jeno, fingering, spitting, squirting, slight praise, lots of crying (reader), dumbification, marking/biting, scratching, blood, nipple play, gagging, bdj (big dick jeno LMFAOO)

-> a/n: this is my apology for going on such a long break T-T, i'm telling you i didn't even realise it went on for that long. i was checking in every now and then but i feel so bad T-T anyways! I'm back :P this one doesn't have THAT much dialogue, so i hope you guys enjoy the gory details 😁 also i think this is the filthiest, most smutty, smut i've ever fucking written, and i've written a lot... trust me on this.

-> upcoming: dilf! jaehyun next week and maybe another halloween special idk. oh btw, everything has some sort of halloween aspect to it :)) psst! requests are open!!

-> word count: 4.2k!

-> also p.s: idk how to explain the way he's acting in this fic... he's like very sweet and cute when he's kissing, but he's being a bitch when he's fucking and being rough... idk, i hope you understand what I mean. but also, as rough as he maybe, he's very touchy-feely and kissy :D ANYWHO! I present to you, six pages of pure filth!

safe! master list

mature! masterlist

“When you said we’re going to a party, I didn’t know it was a frat party.” Minjeong said as the three of you walked through the door. The house reeked of weed and sweat, all the criteria for a proper frat party, except everyone is in a Halloween costume.

“Girl, where else would the party have been?” Jimin scoffed lightly. She paused in the doorway, looking down at her phone before she sighed. “Apparently Sungchan’s waiting for me in the living room, I’ll see you two later?” Both you and Minjeong nodded, wishing the girl goodbye and watched as she walked away in her cheerleader costume.

Turning to each other, you silently agreed that the first thing you needed was a drink, so you headed off to the kitchen.

“I forgot to tell you how hot you look in that outfit.” She said in your ear, loud enough for you to hear over the music, and you gave her a smile while you poured yourself a drink.

“So do you,” you whistled as you looked her up and down, the way the gross boys in movies do when they spot a hot girl.

Together, you looked like an odd pair, seeing as you were dressed up as Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Body, and Minjeong was Little Red Riding Hood. The music thumped through the air as the two of you stood in the crowded kitchen, surrounded by costumed partygoers. The laughter and chatter blended with the bass, creating a symphony of Halloween revelry. Your playful compliment still lingered in the atmosphere, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise chilly, dimly lit room. You took a sip from your drink, the alcohol burning your throat, but your attention was momentarily drawn away from the sensation by something else. From across the room, you spotted a familiar figure, the ever so iconic Ghost Face mask, in the back corner, talking to a boy dressed up as a mummy.

The menacing presence seemed to defy the festive atmosphere, and your eyes were drawn to it as if by some magnetic force. The Ghost Face mask turned slowly in your direction, and even though you couldn't see their face, you felt a shiver race down your spine. It was as though an invisible connection had formed between you and the enigmatic figure, a connection that transcended the costume and the anonymity it provided. There was something magnetic about their presence, something that sparked a potent and unspoken attraction.

For a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes met those hidden behind the Ghost Face mask. Time seemed to stand still as you locked onto each other, and a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment passed between you, like a silent agreement in the midst of the raucous party. Your heart quickened, and the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that charged moment.

Feeling a surge of heat and anticipation, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the enigmatic figure and turned back to Minjeong, who had been watching the silent exchange with keen interest. She met your eyes, and the shared understanding between you two was palpable. “You saw him too, didn’t you.” Minjeong said in a way that had her sounding winded. With a knowing smile and another sip of your drink, you and Minjeong silently toasted to the unspoken intrigue that had captured your attention.

As the night continued, the magnetic pull you felt towards the Ghost Face figure in the corner didn't wane. It was like an invisible thread connected the two of you, and despite the ongoing revelry, your attention kept drifting back to that mysterious presence.

Minjeong, ever perceptive, nudged you and raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Why not go for it?" Encouraged by her silent urging, you decided to take the initiative. Setting down your drink, you nodded toward the Ghost Face figure, indicating your intention to approach.

Minjeong gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to navigate the sea of Halloween costumes on your own. You weaved through the dancing crowd, anticipation growing with each step.

As you approached, the mask-wearing figure seemed to sense your approach and turned slightly in your direction. They leaned against the counter with their arms crossed over their chest, waiting for you to arrive. The closer you got, the more you could feel the intensity of the connection between the two of you.

Finally standing face to face, the silence was almost deafening. The mask stared at you, unmoving, but you could sense a palpable tension beneath it. Without exchanging words, you both seemed to understand that this moment was special, a secret shared between you in the midst of chaos.

Slowly, your hand extended, and you reached for the Ghost Face mask. Your fingertips brushed against it, and you felt a rapid heartbeat beneath your touch. The mask gave the slightest nod, and you grasped it, carefully pulling it up.

Beneath the mask, a pair of intense, dark eyes met yours. You were momentarily lost in their depth, captivated by the enigmatic stranger who had held your attention all night. The corners of your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and a spark of recognition flared in those deep, mysterious eyes.

The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you erupted in a whirlwind of excitement. It was a dance of anticipation and curiosity, an unspoken agreement that you had both been waiting for this moment. And even though the music continued to thump, and the crowd continued to revel, for that brief, electric moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent, thrilling connection.

You told him your name when he asked for it, and he introduced himself as ‘Jeno’.

“You wanna take this upstairs?” he asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You sucked in a breath and nodded before he pulled the mask back down and took your hand in his to lead the way through the crowd.

The staircase was crowded with a few people, Minjeong included. You spotted her talking to a girl in fairy costume and when you caught her eye, she gave you a grin, wider than you’ve ever seen.

Every now and then, Jeno’s leather gloved hand would lightly squeeze yours as you climbed up the stairs. You held on a little tighter each time, but before you knew it, you were standing in front of a room with a big ‘JN’ poster hanging in the middle.

The boy opened the door for you and let you enter first before entering himself. The door clicked shut behind you as you sat down on the bed, your eyes locked on Jeno's every move. With a seductive confidence, he slowly peeled off the Ghost Face mask, revealing a mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

As he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, you sucked in a breath in response to the sensual tension that crackled between you. His gloved hands, still gripping the mask, dropped to his sides, and he advanced with a slow, deliberate purpose. The room was drowning in desire, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.

Jeno moved in until he was standing directly in front of you. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself unable to resist as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. The touch was electrifying, and you leaned into it, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation. You reached up slowly and pulled his hands away, suddenly regretting it, but you went on with pulling the leather gloves off, exposing a set of large, veiny hands.

Kicking off your shoes, you moved to the top of his bed and watched as he concentrated on your every move with dark eyes. In a flash, Jeno had pulled off the cloak, leaving his chest exposed and him only in his jeans. It felt like you were freezing without his touch on you, but soon enough, he was in front of you, inspecting your face before his eyes ultimately landed on your lips that were stained red from makeup.

His lips rushed to meet yours in a tantalising kiss, a soft exploration that soon deepened into a passionate melding of mouths. The taste of him was intoxicating, and your tongues danced in a heated rhythm, exchanging breathless sighs and moans. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. It was amazing.

His hands travelled from your face, down to your waist and they pulled you to meet his body. Jeno groaned into the kiss from all the friction caused by his chest rubbing against your sweater, making his nipples hard and sensitive.

While your arms wrap around his neck, Jeno’s hips dig into yours, creating a tent in his pants. It’s hard and uncomfortable but the pressure it’s putting on your cunt is to die for, so you grind… hard. Jeno moans your name while his hands tug at your jeans so aggressively you thought he would tear them if he continued. After blindly messing around with your pants, Jeno popped the button open and pulled down your jeans, exposing the lacy underwear you had on.

You whined as he pulled away from your lips but you shut up quicker than ever when you noticed how he was staring at your pussy. He looked hungry.

He looked like he was starving.

And starving, he was.

Jeno practically tore off your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him, before he dove into you. His tongue pressed flat against your pussy, licking a stripe up, the muscle’s warmth and making you moan softly. His nose poked at your clit as his tongue toyed with your hole. He lapped at your folds, making sure no spot was left untouched by his tongue. Jeno loved the way you tasted; you had the best pussy he’s ever eaten, he felt like he could spend all day eating you out, and he’d never get tired of it.

Jeno pulled away for a second to put his middle finger in his mouth, coating it in saliva before pressing it to your entrance. A hum escaped your lips as his thick digit slowly pulsed in and out of you as your hands worked to take off your sweater and shirt. Soon, one finger became two, and Jeno went back to eating you out. Your moans were driving him crazy; they were making it hard focus on your clit because his cock was so fucking hard. The hand he had pressed on your lower abdomen moved down to his button, undoing it and moving the zipper down far enough for him to get his dick out.

As he rubbed his cock, Jeno’s teeth grazed your clit before his lips latched on to it, sucking forcefully. With that, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start to form. As your moans quickened, the pace of Jeno’s fingers grew faster, and he sucked harder on your clit– if it were even possible. He loved the way you were tightening around his fingers, like you were trying to keep them inside you, wanting them absorb your juices.

“Fuck, Jeno…” you gasped, fingers tugging at his dark, messy hair. “God, I’m so close.”

Your eyes squeezed shut right as you were about to cum, but you never did. You felt so high, but now you dropped back down to zero, and you were empty and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw Jeno looking down at you with a smug expression. He leaned down and kissed you softly, which allowed you to taste yourself off his tongue, the somewhat sweet taste filling your mouth.

Reaching down, you felt for his cock, and began stroking when you found it. He was girthier than other guys you’ve had sex with, and he had a slight curve upwards, but my god was he long. You didn’t know if he would fit, but there was nothing you wouldn’t try.

Jeno moaned as he kissed you, the feeling of your warm hands rubbing him up and down forced him to thrust at the pace you were moving at. He pulled back from your lips to drop his head into the crook of your neck, marking and panting against the soft skin. Behind the shell of your ear, he wet a small spot with saliva before he kissed it softly, and he did the same to a few other spots. He sucked on your skin until it bruised while he moved down to the curve of your neck. Jeno’s hot tongue laid against your skin once again before he closed his teeth around it.

You jerked his cock harder as the boy continued to bite into different spots until his husky voice whispered a demand.

“Stop.” Jeno told you.

You did as you were told, but you kept your fingers trailing up and down his shaft as he kissed back up your neck, to your lips.

“Gimme two seconds.” he said against your lips with a smile. You kissed him quickly before he got up, which made him chuckle.

You watched as he got up, cock out and everything, which made you smile a bit. Jeno slid off his remaining clothes and tossed them in what presumed to be a laundry bin, and opened a drawer of his dresser, only to pull out something wrapped in a gold foil.

Oh…

Not one;

Not two;

Or three;

But six.

Jeno pulled out a strand of six condoms before he turned back to you. “Just in case.” he smiled innocently, even though he absolutely was not. He tore one from the line and ripped the top off with his teeth before he handed you the open package.

“Only six?” you asked in attempt to make a joke out of the pain you’re going to be in tomorrow.

Jeno chuckled as he shrugged while you took the condom and rolled it on to his cock. “We can use the whole pack if you want, it’s new.”

And that was that, seeing as Jeno grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth once again, grazing your own tongue and cheeks before he pulled away. A string of your mixed saliva hung like a teather from your mouth to his.

“Turn over for me, won’t you?” you nodded in a daze and turned so that your face was in the pillows. “Good girl,” he said, his cool hands grazing down your back, sliding all the way down to your ass. He spread your cheeks far enough apart to see everything, and you swore you heard evil laughter coming from somewhere.

What you thought was going to come, did not, in fact, come. Instead, you were surprised to feel a warm glob of spit fall on to your ass and how it trailed down to your pussy. Jeno leaned down and licked one long stripe, starting from your clit and ending at your ass. His tongue poked into your hole, once again, but this time he scisored in and out, the same way he used his fingers earlier. His tongue was warm and soft inside you, but that feeling didn’t last very long.

Jeno pulled his tongue out, subbing it out for his fingers, but instead, he used his tongue on your ass, sending shivers down your spine. He licked at the puckered hole, warming it up a bit as he fucked your pussy with his fingers.

“You doing okay?” he asked, but you were only able to moan out your response. His fingers fucked you faster, his thumb was ruining your clit with friction, your ass was slick with his spit. Everything was happening just as it needed to be for you to cum. “Oh fuck, Jeno, I’m gonna cum.” And this time you did. Jeno’s fingers curled inside you as they fucked you through your orgasm. Your body shook, your pussy was covered in spit and cum. Jeno’s fingers were coated in a mixture of his and your fluids, and he sucked it off like he was eating icing from a cake.

You felt hot and sticky; he hadn’t even fucked you with his cock yet and yet that was the best orgasm you’d ever fucking felt. “Jen… Jeno, I need you.”

The desparity in your voice sent Jeno spiraling and in no time, the fingers in your pussy were gone and his cock was poking at your enterance. He spit into his hand and coated his covered cock in it, even though he doubted he needed it, considering the fact that you were so wet you could drip on to his bed.

With a slow push, Jeno’s cock entered you, but refrained from moving after hearing you gasp. You knew he was going to be big, but you didn’t know he would be that big. He was a length you’d never taken before, so it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but soon enough you were able to build up to a medium pace.

Jeno’s hands snuck up your back to undo the clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts. Jeno firmly gripped your ass, with his thumb prodding at your assshole. You hummed with pleasure as the thick digit dipped into you slightly. With that, along with the pounding from his cock, you were basically in heaven.

“Faster,” you gasped, finally feeling only pleasure as he fucks into you.

Pulling you up by the shoulder, your bra slipped off in an instant, which let Jeno get a proper view of your tits, plump and beautiful. He watched how they jiggled with each thrust, and he grew more and more fond of them. Jeno even switched his grip on you from your shoulder to your neck. His hand gripped you around the base of your throat, just tight enough for there to be a handprint later. Meanwhile, the other snaked down to your pussy, where he drew fast circles on your clit. Jeno’s cock was deep inside your cunt, it filled you to the brim and you were loving every minute of it.

And so was he. The sound of skin slapping on skin, how your pussy fit his cock like a glove, how you moaned his name like you knew it well, how your back was practically glued to his chest. That made him go crazy; that made him fuck you even harder– a more vigurous pace that felt so good it brought you to tears.

Jeno got a hold of one of your nipples, it was hard and practically begging for it to be twisted. You moaned at the feeling and begged for more through your tears, so Jeno’s arms crossed over your stomach, his hands reaching up to play with your nipples some more. He pulled at them until they slipped from his grip, he squeezed them until you begged for mercy. When he shoved two fingers in your mouth, you gagged and yet you could still go further. Jeno pulled his fingers out and covered your tits in your spit.

It didn’t take long for his hips to pick up the pace once he that he was about to cum. Your moans grew choppier and choppier as his thrusts became more sharp.

“Shit, baby.” he groaned, his teeth biting down on your ear loab as he came. Your breaths were ragged in the moments of his orgasm, but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, even with the condom. Your body couldn’t keep up with the speed he was going at and soon enough you were shaking in his arms for a second time, cumming with him.

When Jeno pulled out, your head lolled backwards and you eyed him with a smile. Jeno kissed your temple and whispered his next words into your skin.

“On to the second condom, then?” You each laughed at his comment and Jeno wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he shook with laughter.

The boy helped you off of him before getting off the bed again to switch condoms. The exchange was quick and before you knew it, Jeno was hovering above of you once more, staring down at you like you were his prey. This predatory look formed a pit in your stomach, but the good kind.

Jeno’s eyes scanned you from head to toe.

Your body glistened with sweat, collarbones and throat covered with markings of all kinds, your nipples were puffy and wet, and your pussy was swollen and slick with juices. Everything looked delectable; you looked delectable and he was so tempted to consume it all.

The boy picked up one of your legs and propped it over his shoulder and placed his tip at your entrance. He bottomed out smoothly, and this time you seemed to be able to handle his length much better. Your head sunk into the pillows as you let out a sigh.

You watched how Jeno’s eyes closed when he felt your cunt wrap around him with his head falling back with pleasure. “Feels so good.” he groaned into the air, his jaw hanging open slightly as he continued to thrust. His head turned to the side and he brought your calf closer to his mouth, littering it with harsh bites and soft kisses.

Biting your lip, you reached your arm out, silently asking for him to come closer to you, to which he accepted. Setting your leg down, Jeno placed his arms on either side of your head, his face now just centimetres away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you wanted to keep the eye contact, so you mustered up the courage to look into his swirling orbs. In his eyes were a mix of emotions, ones that were unrecognisable to you, but you liked it. Tilting your head up slightly, you pecked his bottom lip lightly, which earned you a grin from Jeno. It grew wider when you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer to you. He hummed and kissed you back forcefully as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you sharply.

The tears that ran from your eyes down your cheeks seemed to motivate Jeno. Before, he could only hear your sobs, but seeing you cry switched something inside him. It made him want to fuck you harder, just to see you cry even harder. You looked so pretty, with your makeup all messy and tears running down your face. He loved it.

So he fucked you harder, and so you cried harder, you moaned louder, and you pawed at his back. His skin was under your nails, he could feel how they cut into him the harder he thrust. You were driving him fucking insane.

Jeno leaned his forehead on to yours as he moaned out sweet nothings. “I fucking love your pussy, fuck.” he cursed. His words made you tighten around his cock, which only made him groan louder, but it was like music to your ears. He felt like your pussy was sucking him in the way it would constrict when he fucked into you.

“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Fuck, Jeno, you’re so fucking good.” you repeated your words as you whined out to him.

His words made your insides flutter, his movements made your heart race and your breaths quicker. Everything felt so good you could barely moan out words anymore.

He was fucking you dumb and silly. You were nothing but drawn out exclamations and tears. You were so sensitive, and yet you didn’t even want to tell him to stop.

It was just too good to stop.

So he kept fucking you, and he kept filling you, over, and over, and over again until you felt it. “Jen… Jeno, fuck, I’m cumming.” Suddenly, Jeno pulled out again, the same way he did earlier, but this time, he crawled between your legs again, fingering you until you came while jerking himself off. This one hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank and no words could even come out of your mouth. Jeno couldn’t even register what happened until he felt a wet substance leak on to his sheet.

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

His mouth latched on to your squirting cunt almsot immediately, drinking in your juices like it was water. Some liquid dripped down his neck as he lapped up the rest that leaked from your pussy, but he never let up. He continued to eat you out so well even after you came, you thought you were going to do it again.

As your hand raked through his dark hair, all it took was one tug at his roots for him to cum. Jeno rode his high by fucking himself into his mattress, and until he was done, he rest in between your thighs.

Slowly making his way up to you, you looked down, only to find that his dick was still hard. “You’re joking, right?”

“How about we finish that pack in a bit, hm?” he grinned, making you scoff.

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gojonanami · 1 year ago

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TASTES SWEETER ON YOUR LIPS - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: on a rare day off, you decide to take care of the strongest sorcerer -- with something very sweet. ✴︎ contents: pure domestic fluff, based on that clip of gojo freaking out over pancakes in the phantom parade game, taking care of gojo the way he deserves - with sweets and yourself :), implied smut, some food play, mostly implied, ✴︎ wc: 754

It was a rare day off for Satoru Gojo.

No missions — overseas or otherwise. No training to deal with for his students. No annoying higher ups to deal with.

Just the two of you in bed. Satoru was sound asleep, curled up beside you, pretty long white eyelashes and pink lips parted. How was it possible to look perfect while sleeping? Everything about your husband was truly unfair.

But considering everything he did — you ran your fingers through his snowy locks — he deserved it. He worked so hard, always with a smile, barely with a complaint — you had to badger out of him half of the time, except about the higher ups — and always did his best for everyone around him.

And the opportunity to spoil him became rare, especially with how busy everything had been with Itadori, the special grades, and everything else he had on his plate. So why not today?

You sneak out of bed, being as quiet as possible as you head to the kitchen. You had found a recipe for soufflé pancakes with a chocolate and butter pecan sauce. Satoru had been complaining that he hadn’t had time to try the new trend recently — finding the perfect cafe for the two of you in Kyoto, but hadn’t had the time to get out there. But you thought why not beat him to the punch?

Anything to make him happy.

Satoru’s eyes fluttered open, the sunlight falling across his eyelids as he stirred, reaching for you, only to find an empty bed. He sighed, eyes opening and he could sense you in the kitchen, and you were — cooking?

He sits up.

What was that scent? It’s so sweet.

He’s wandering into the kitchen, yawning, as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him as he buries his head in the nape of your neck sleepily.

“What are you doing?” It’s half a question, half a whine, “why’re you up so early—“ and then he spots the two plates in front of you, and he gasp, “what—“

“Surprise,” you giggle at his wide eyed gaze, “your six eyes are gonna pop out if you look any harder, baby,”

“Where did you—“

“I made them. I found a recipe and I had most of the ingredients on hand anyway,” you turn to face him, cupping his cheeks, “I know how hard you’ve been working, Toru, and I just wanted you to know I see it — and I’m here to take care of you sometimes,” you lean up and kiss his cheek.

And his lips curl into a wide grin, and he’s greedy, as he’s tugging you back, “you missed, sweetheart,” and he’s kissing your lips, and somehow you’re the best and the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, “I love you,” he murmurs, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“Keep asking yourself that,” and he’s picking you up and spinning you, as you gasp and giggle, holding onto him, “Toru—“

“Yes, my lovely wife?” You lean down and kiss his goofy grin off his lips.

“Let’s have some pancakes, ok?” And he only smiled wider, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Only if I can have you afterwards,” and you laugh.

“Deal,”

“Satoru, that is your third plate of—“

“These pancakes are so good! They’re so fluffy and warm and perfect—I’ve never had such a fluffy pancake!“ and he’s taking another large bite, “and the sauce? What the hell is in that sauce?”

“Toru—“ and he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you can taste the sweet syrup sauce on his lips, “what—“

“I think this sauce tastes sweeter on your lips,” he’s licking his lips clean, pressing a kiss to your neck, his cerulean eyes colored with lust, “do you have more?” And his eyes drift to the bowl of sauce on the counter, his fingers dipping in the sauce, before dragging it along your lips and then your jaw.

And your breath catches, as he leans over, his lips and tongue dragging along the same path he left, sucking at the sauce and your skin, before he reaches your lips. And his tongue darts out and tastes the sauce, before kissing you, sweet tongue slipping into your mouth, drawing a moan from your lips.

He draws back, spit clinging to the corner of his mouth, a grin on his lips, as you pant, eyes drifting to the sauce and back to him.

“…let’s go back to bed.”

And Satoru Gojo certainly had a very sweet day off with you.

✴︎ a/n: what is this? i have no idea. i actually really wanna try those fluffy pancakes they sound really good. but also gojo's too cute.

✴︎ taglist: @capitana18girl, @1cadence, @madam-milf, @ceceher, @forest-fruits-jam, @black-nirvanna, @naanamikentoo

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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