#biscuit thirsts
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men who can’t help but slut themselves out a little bit around you because they just like you so much!
they’re constantly making sure they’re dressed in clothes that fit their physique in the most flattering/revealing way whenever they find out you’ll be tagging along for drinks. they spritz on the cologne that you once commented you liked on them, and make sure to lean in slightly when you talk to them so that you can undoubtedly catch the scent of it.
they laugh at your jokes and flutter their eyelashes all pretty-like while they’re listening to you and are paying attention extra hard. are fixing their hair in the mirror whenever they go to the restroom even though they’d never bother otherwise. are draping their arm across your chair, pretending they’re just trying to get more comfortable. even the sound of their voice changes slightly whenever they’re focused on you.
also, they show off their neck by undoing the top button of their shirt and sometimes readjust their belt, hoping that you’ll take a peek while they do it.
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Sometime I think about Yakou having a more dilfy body type for a little too long and my entire brain is just
#LIKE PLEASE SIR PLEASE BARKBARKBARKWOOFWOOFWOOF#AAAAAAUGH#THANK YOU ARFARFARF#master detective archives: rain code#rain code#raincode#master detective archives#yakou furio#lop’s thirst posting !!#LET ME MAKE BISCUITS ON YOUR SOFT DILF STOMACH SIR
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That dilf nanami post… even without being an actual dad, a man who looks, sits, and behaves like that is a total heart winner✌🏻
biscuit! im giving you a kiss because I feel like it's been a while ^.^
oh, absolutely. the attitude and tone of that post had me clenching my thighs 😭😭 this man has no right being that hot
⥽ ask 💌
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i wanna know what character you daydream the most and are they sexy and if yes, in what way are they sexy, exactly? 🎤
I think you know the answer to this, but imma indulge you cause I love you 💗
Right now, the answer is... hanma. Hanma! HANMA!!!!
Motherfucking Hanma Shuji has me in a literal chokehold and it came out of nowhere. Until very recently I had only been thirsting over Mitsuya in TR, but godamn, Hanma just straight up kidnapped my mind.
Is he sexy? Do I need to answer this?! The man is 6’4”, smirks like a motherfucker, has several screws loose, large tattooed hands and messy black and blonde hair… need I go on?
What makes him sexy, apart from looking like a fucking God, is his ‘I give zero fucks’ attitude. This man would snap a neck if you gave the go ahead and he’d feel nothing, not an ounce of guilt in his body.
He’d be the most overbearing, corrupting influence. Personally I like to believe that he has a huge corruption kink, he is drawn like a magnet to the most innocent, shy little flowers and turns them into fucked out bimbos. I could go on… but I sound deranged enough! 😳
(I’d literally talk about this man for hours if asked)
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Pasicore? Really? 🙈 that’s a complete vibe
Check the tag and you'll know there are two sides of that tag😋
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Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.
Common Scenery Description Tips
Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:
How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.
How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?
Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells
(If you have the POV character) what
Some other tips for setting description:
Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader.
Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another”
Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on.
If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once.
That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:
Forests/Mountains
Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray
Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering
Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose
Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned
Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit
Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling
Mountains having faces, etc.
Seas
Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise
Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous
Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic
Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating
Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting
Deserts
Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek
Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs
Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion
Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…
Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger
Streets
Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail
Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady
The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.
The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.
The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.
In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.
Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.
Parties
Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:
Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with.
Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details.
Don’t try to describe everything.
whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.
It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.
The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.
Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.
It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.
Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.
The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.
Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.
The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.
It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.
#writers and poets#writing#creative writing#writers on tumblr#creative writers#helping writers#let's write#poets and writers#writeblr#resources for writers#writing practice#writing prompt#writing community#writing advice#writing tips#on writing#writing inspiration#writer#writerscommunity#writers block#writer community#writblr#writers of tumblr#writers community#writers life#writer stuff
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omg can you do soobin nsfw alphabet? im in love with your taehyun work
AHHHHHH!! Thank you so much!! My first commissions, I am so excited I immediately started writing because I took the time to write rn anyway lol. I definitely plan on writing an NSFW alphabet for the other three as well, in the future, but I have three Riize drafts and one Tyun draft rn TT. Feel free to request the next member for the alphabet, or other stuff (prompts, MTL, etc...) for Riize and Tubatu, and I'll get to it as soon as I am able to!
Soobin NSFW alphabet
Baby baby baby baby boy
-> Yeonjun Beomgyu Taehyun Hueningkai
○o。content warnings! NSFW, fem!reader, mention of hair pulling, oral m! and f! receiving, lingerie, edging, perv!Soobin, sex toys, mention of anal (m! and f! receiving), mention of marriage, pussy hair, mention of bondage, very brief mention of derogatory language, edited for spelling
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Immediately asleep, knocks out like a light bulb. He barely manages to pull out and climb off of you, and he's done for. The issue is that you couldn't clean up, either, because he pulls you into a tight hug you can't escape from. More often than not, is condom falls off in the middle of the night because he left it on.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
For himself, he really likes his hair, he thinks fluffy and a little longer hair compliments him so much. Another perk is how obsessed you are with it. The way you sometimes braid his hair while cuddling, how you ruffle it when you call him cute, the way you pull it when he eats you out...
The Soobie Boobie Toobie agenda strikes hard. He loves your boobs, doesn't matter if they're small or big, or if they may sag a little, he doesn't care, as long as you're pushing them up in a cute lace bra every time he takes you out for dinner, for him to look at. <3
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
His cum is very watery, almost completely transparent. He comes kinda... discretely? You never notice he is about to cum unless he tells you. Except for a little leg shake, his composure doesn't change, his breathing doesn't pick up, his pace doesn't increase, his groans don't get louder... He just busts, and you're left there, surprised, cum on your titties...
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He watched too many dirty animes and watched a few too many thirst traps during 2020 unfortunately... nothing turns him on more than the thought of you in a maid dress, bringing him tea and biscuits and sucking him off under the table, addressing him as Soobin-sama. Will take this dirty secret to his grave!!! (or you just go get drunk with him and ask him about his dirty secrets, will spill anything, guaranteed)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
No because maybe unpopular opinion but I think he had a girlfriend or two before you. It was never very serious, though, it was just a hormonal teen relationship to get away with fooling around a little bit. Therefore, there are a lot of things he hasn't tried yet.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He likes every position in which he can see a.) your tits and b.) your face. Missionary and cowgirl are the two top ones, doggy in front of a mirror is also fine and dandy.
G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
He tends to be on the more serious side, letting his hot guy persona show. If you're someone who cracks jokes, he will laugh at them, but don't expect any comments in return. He might tease you in a way that could potentially make you laugh, but it's not intentionally a joke. He tends to get more emotional, telling you sweet things or confessing his deeper feelings to you.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Tends to not care about shaving. He just lets it grow until it's too much for his liking, then he would shave it off completely in one go so he can, again, not care for a few weeks. After a few months of dating he will ask you, very shyly and very embarrassed, how you like it and will adapt from then on.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
In all honesty, I don't see him to be intentionally romantic. He's not someone who lights candles or prepares a bubble bath every time you guys do it. He is unintentionally romantic, though, as already mentioned he turns quite sappy, being romantic in the way he talks to you or handles you. Always asks for consent when trying something new, checking up on you if you get quiet. <3
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
LOVES masturbating together, you two just sit in your bed, fully nude and watch the other. It feels so dirty to him, so intimate in a way regular sex just doesn't feel like. It's also a great way to edge as foreplay, the feeling of sinking into your drenching, sensitive pussy after half an hour of this is as close to entering heaven as it could possibly get.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think Soobin is kind of a closeted perv, he'd be into any sort of sex toy, be it for you or for him. If it's late at night, he's barely awake, but you're begging to have sex with him, he won't shy away from using a womanizer on you. The following is husband!Soobin territory right now, but he'd definitely enjoy having a vibrating plug up his ass while fucking you, or being tied up and being edged with a vibrator.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
It's not that he necessarily has an exhibitionism kink, or a specific preference for a place that is not the confinements of your bedroom, it's just that he doesn't care a lot? If he wants it, and you want it, and you're somewhere else, it's not going to stop him really.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Likes it if you're being bold with him. You can either ask him straight up (doesn't need to be phrased sexily, a simple "Let's fuck" is enough to grind his gears) or just walk around in something sexy or just fully nude, he'll follow you like a puppy. Just in general, gets horny when you're horny, and if you're not in the mood, he loses his motivation as well.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As already mentioned, he won't want to do it if you don't want to, he is not the type to try to change your mind or try to get you horny.
There are barely any no-gos with him, a perv like him will try most things if you're into them (he might even discover new kinks through you). It needs to be something seriously disgusting or illegal to be an instant no.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Prefers receiving by a tinie tiny bit, mainly because he can see your face and boobs while you give him head.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He is fairly rough, fast and deep thrusts are the standard with him, especially at the beginning of your relationship. If you prefer it slower, you can tell him and he will adapt. It's just that he's excited, you feel so good, he can't help himself. <3 Even if you don't mention anything, he will get more slow and sensual overtime, especially as his feeling for you deepen.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
no.1 fan, the quickie invented itself for him, actually. Tied to what I mentioned during L, if you're both in the mood you'll do it, regardless of location OR your time limit. He's not afraid to be a little bit late to something to be able to pound into your pussy, so be it! Long sex is usually reserved for after dates or special situations, like an anniversary or if one of you is going through a tough time.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Definitely a risk-taker, tied to my very personal perv!Soobin agenda. The worst thing that can happen is a moment of embarrassment and if the sex was good he'd gladly pay that price. The only thing he won't risk though is your relationship, e.g. he won't have a threesome with someone you are close to, or someone he knows has a crush on you. Or something that could hurt you physically (not talking about little bruises, an injury that could drive a wedge between you and him).
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Doesn't have a lot of stamina! If he cums once, it's usually light out with this guy. Sometimes you can squeeze a second one out of him if you're determined, but that's it. He always makes sure that you cum lots, and that you have a good time before he does, because he knows he has bad stamina.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Already mentioned this during K, but yeah, you own every toy in the book. If a new one is currently trending or even completely new on the market, he'll get it ASAP. Of course, you have your favorites that earned their spot in your nightstand, but the rest aren't necessarily collecting dust either.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A little bit of a tease, might use some lightly derogatory language if you're into that, or denies you an orgasm (or two) but he's not mean in bed, he loves you too much and wants you both to enjoy it. (Besides, he prefers it if you tease him...)
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Groaner! Grunter! Might even whine if you do it right, or if you have been edging for a while. He very rarely moans (aka only with a toy up his ass), therefore he isn't very loud. This beneficial since you fuck in the weirdest places.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Has a thing for pussy hair and thinks it's cute if you shave it in specific patterns or styles. His favorite was the heart you deliberately shaved for Valentine's Day. He also has a certain admiration for a full bush.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Big. Monstrous. Humungus. I have a more detailed explanation here. Lots of foreskin and small balls in comparison.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Fairly high, but he easily adapts to you. He isn't going to pass away if you go a week or two without it, but prefers to do it regularily and tends to miss it easily.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
immediately, snorring like zzzzz. He won't let you leave either, if you need to pee, hold it in!
#smoochwrites#commisions open#commission#txt smut#soobin hard thoughts#soobin hard hours#soobin x reader#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt x reader
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I needed to make a masterlist of Ted Lasso interviews that I might want to go back to, so I thought I'd make it on tumblr just in case someone else sees this and wants to make use of it. I'll be updating this as I go along, and just in case someone sees this I am more than happy to take suggestions to add to this!
Color you surprised, it's mostly about Phil and Brett and the sexual tension they can't shut up about!
https://youtu.be/r3nDyX2H39E
Half hour with: Ted Lasso - the players of AFC Richmond
Interview with Phil and Brett, featuring Brett accidentally calling Phil a dickhead, Phil's oral fixation and talking about Muppets.
https://youtu.be/XFVRY_9Xd0M
Half hour with: Ted Lasso
Brett, Phil and Hannah, featuring Brett giving a description of the writers room and calling Roy and Jamie's arc a love story, Phil saying "sweet Jamie", and gushing about Hannah's beautiful singing voice.
https://youtu.be/aaNkut8EqzQ
Half hour with: Ted Lasso
Q/a with Phil, Brett, Brendan, Kola, Cristo and Sarah, featuring Brendan's very succinct description of s2, Phil pitching a Jamie Tartt spinoff, and Brett and Brendan describing Jason.
https://youtu.be/B9iMWmg0zNI
Q/a with a good chunk of the main cast, featuring the cutest 'hello' in the entire world by Phil, Brett talking lovingly about Brendan Hunt hulahooping, and great points about Nate's villain arc.
https://youtu.be/bBhLGRAkr0I
Ted Lasso's Phil Dunster on whether we've all underestimated Jamie Tartt
Featuring Phil giving really interesting insight into Jamie's off-season activities, Phil suggesting Roy as a potential partner for Jamie, the infamous 'cleavage' thing, and Phil taking the first opportunity to bring up sexual tension with Brett.
https://youtu.be/vOZmTc0uFWA
Phil Dunster on Ted Lasso
Featuring Phil talking about Jamie's arc and s3e12, Phil, as always, taking the first opportunity to mention sexual tension with Brett while talking about filming with him, and Phil's oral fixation.
https://youtu.be/to6wde29xog
Phil Dunster breaks down his character
Short and sweet, featuring Phil looking absolutely adorable, talking about Jamie's apology tour, and Phil calling Brett and his "stupid face" his kryptonite.
https://youtu.be/s_rzvGdA3yA
Ted Lasso - a conversation with Brett Goldstein and Phil Dunster
Featuring Phil and Brett absolutely unleashing their love for each other, Phil wishing to inhabit Brett's body, Brett in either Phil's bed or his heart, and the infamous "you're a good boy".
https://youtu.be/iFTwcR-FbC4
Thirst tweets with Phil
Featuring lots of thirsting over Phil/Jamie, Phil not knowing what babygirl means while actively being peak babygirl, and Phil imagining Roy and Jamie railing each other.
https://youtu.be/8MoO0-juDE0
The Ted Lasso way w/ Brett and Phil
Featuring Brett saying "go on, I fucking dare you" to Phil, Phil's fantasy of two Bretts coming true, Phil taking the chance to mention the electricity between them, Brett calling it a romantic comedy between Roy and Jamie, and Phil looking at Brett like he's the sun while he talks about how they molded Jamie to Phil (or not).
https://youtu.be/Gvbu_EmaZz4
Talking Ted Lasso with Brett and Phil
Featuring Brett claiming to be horrendous on set while Phil's face gives nothing away, Phil being lobbed a weird pandemic question which he manages to use to make Brett laugh, and Phil's excited face at the mention of a Roy Kent action figure.
https://youtu.be/NJu_GF6LdMo
Ted Lasso - Brett and Phil talk s2, award nominations etc.
Featuring Phil being an expert on the amount of pictures of Brett topless, Brett not understanding American football, and Brett planning to celebrate award by shaving his chest.
https://youtu.be/WdSmt5PWn_4
Ted Lasso - Brett and Phil interview
Featuring Brett making his father proud, Brett saying "it really is" when the host says Phil's hair looks good, Phil saying Brett's face makes him laugh, and them taking a biscuit question more seriously than any other.
https://youtu.be/hqhieH7JOIo
Ted Lasso HCA roundtable with Brett and Phil
Featuring describing the audition process, Phil's oral fixation, and Phil butchering lines while Brett questions if he's seen the show.
https://youtu.be/_CSBXs7d8Qc
Week of Lasso: how Brett pitched himself as Roy etc.
Featuring Brendan Hunt asking him about his cat alter ego, Brett talking about the musical references, and Brett wanting to play Jamie Tartt.
https://youtu.be/IZYe9eLHKyU
Brett, Phil and Juno - Ted Lasso interview
Featuring Brett saying he loves them and Juno reacting like a normal person while Phil reacts like Phil, Keeley being called a firecracker, and Juno describing the dynamics off and on screen.
https://youtu.be/A7f9n032T4g
Ted Lasso cast tackle the football vs soccer debate
Juno, Phil and Brett, featuring Phil describing Jamie's hair inspiration, explaining football terms, and Phil playing with a ball.
https://youtu.be/EpVf3BG3SKs
Phil digging deeper into Jamie in s2
Featuring Phil talking about s2e8 and the locker room scene, Phil saying #blessed, and talking about being hugged by Brett.
https://youtu.be/wJg8lvz93pE
Cast of 'Ted Lasso' meets USA soccer's Crystal Dunn and Alex Morgan
With Brett, Phil, Juno, Hannah and Nick, featuring talk about Phil's incredible goal after the signal, Phil and Brett (not) wondering who'd win Richmond vs US women's national team, and everyone zipping their lips about s2.
https://youtu.be/8ji4QiDv6aQ
Phil Dunster ('Ted Lasso') can't be a winner all the time... Or can he?
Featuring Phil once again claiming he's not good at football, Phil describing Jamie and Ted's relationship and Jamie's response to positive attention from older men in his life, talking about Brett's face cracking him up, and Phil comparing himself to Jamie in the best ways.
https://youtu.be/so1XVTO_Ya4
Ted Lasso (2021) Brett and Phil with Rick Hong
Featuring Brett being a shameless fan of the show, Phil being a shameless fan of the show, and both of them looking absolutely edible, pardon my language.
https://youtu.be/N5AWAQBJA6s
Phil Dunster talks about season three of 'Ted Lasso' etc
Featuring slightly awkward questions that Phil deals with like a champ, Phil revealing he's clairvoyant, and talking about Amsterdam and the bicycles including the sentence "any time I get into Brett's personal space is fine by me".
https://youtu.be/e-iukozuFm4
'Ted Lasso' star Brett Goldstein on being an Emmy nominee
Featuring Brett calling HR on Hannah, Brett talking about what he's like around kids, and explaining what it's like to film with Phil.
https://youtu.be/hvNhKNSI3KQ
Brett Goldstein ('Ted Lasso'): there's no part of me that takes a second of it for granted
Featuring Brett refusing to name a favourite crew member, talking about filming the "ugly, ugly boy" scene, and surprise, surprise, Muppets.
https://youtu.be/bItQYzugS-Y
Not so much an interview, but featuring Brett saying Phil's list of films for Films to be Buried With was, and I quote, "the worst list of films", and sidebar if you haven't listened to the episode, do yourself a favour and listen to it immediately, if not sooner.
https://youtu.be/g-dKTlwhL4c
Conversations at home with Ted Lasso
Big chunk of the main cast, featuring Phil and Brett sad that their love-making scene was edited out, the sadness we all share over the missing blooper reel, Phil claiming to be rubbish at football but this time there are people to tell him to shut his pretty lying mouth, and true talk about the fabulousness of James Lance's hair.
https://youtu.be/gcdkZwX6LO4
Interview with "Ted Lasso" star Phil Dunster
Featuring Phil talking about "Jamie's hair journey" (also includes him touching on Jamie's hair in Richmond vs in Man City!), talking about the boot room meltdown, and Phil either freezing or the internet being bad at the end.
https://youtu.be/BrJYGJqWIa4
Ted Lasso cast: coy on season 2 'spoilers' etc.
Featuring Phil saying that he calls Brett most days, Brett learning a wholesome lesson from Ted Lasso while Phil imitates Nate saying "did I stutter, dickhead", Phil and Brett both being adorable enough to be fatal when Brett accidentally swears, and both naming their least favourite american-isms.
https://youtu.be/GdbXTcylIKM
Jason Sudeikis and the cast of Ted Lasso play MTV castmates 101
Featuring Jason, Hannah, Jeremy, Brendan, Juno, Brett, Phil and Nick answering true/false questions about each other, including Phil losing it at geese, Jason saying Phil is too smooth to be named after a cheese, and Brett, Juno and Phil talking about shirtless scenes and working out together.
https://youtu.be/--wc-VRsX9s
Ted Lasso interview - Phil Dunster on season 3 etc.
Featuring Phil talking about Jamie's growth in s2 vs s3, discussing the Bicycle Thief of Requirement, and Phil answering every question like the considerate, thoughtful man he is.
https://youtu.be/ZqkmVOGj_qA
Full interview: Ted Lasso star Phil Dunster talk Jamie Tartt's journey through the 3 seasons
Featuring Phil unable to sit like a normal person, Phil saying Brett is one of his closest friends, and Phil explaining poop-eh yet again while calling himself an idiot.
https://youtu.be/dHJWRCToUm4
Ted Lasso interview: Phil Dunster talks Jamie Tartt's growth and the jrk love triangle
Featuring talking about callbacks, Phil saying he loves Brett very much, Phil being the captain of the royjamie ship, Phil talks reading fanfic, describing the musical number in So Long, Farewell, and talking about Jamie's accent.
#ted lasso#phil dunster#brett goldstein#ted lasso cast#ted lasso interviews#masterlist#jamie tartt#roy kent#brainrot#emotional support himbos
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“just the tip, i promise” until it turns into forced breeding
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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Eighteen
Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter
Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro
Chapter Eighteen: Burn, Demon, Burn
The cavern shudders in the entrance of its mouth. Debris is kicked up into the air like the soot to your smithing; the ashes of what you could only describe as rebirth hangs thickly and desolately in the air.
You struggle to blink through the amount of dust, the dry particles of sand sticking stubbornly to your vision - yet your eyes never look away from his bare back.
He stands in front of you, acting as a barrier of scarred skin and muscle, silently drinking in the enemy before him. Like a predator, he thinks, he watches, his shoulders thrusting forwards…
“Roronoa,” you whisper lowly. You stare at the nape of his neck, focussing on the subtle sweat that baubles there. “Let me talk to them.”
His head twitches to you, and you see the incredulous look that’s sported across his brow.
“You gonna share some tea and biscuits, too?”
“I like tea parties,” you sarcastically mutter. “Do you really want to start a fight against an army of wizards?”
“I like sword fights,” he counters. His back, still unyielding, divides you from the fourty more lackeys that continue filing in, their power-wielding hands threateningly raised in front of their solar plexus’.
Another typhoon of debris coats the cavern’s climate, sweeping into the rhythm of their clambering footsteps; Zoro, unflinching, readies his sword, shoulders squared, a feral glint in his eye.
They all stand in line, stacking themselves into a wall with their scrawny bodies and long-pointed wizard hats. No words are uttered; remaining tight-lipped and hard-eyed, they all wait with baited breaths for the main entertainment to begin.
Oh, and absolutely, it begins.
"Well, well…” A powerful voice heaves thickly in the contained air, the rumble of his graceful footsteps echoing deep into the cavern's marrow.
The wall of wizards divides in half, searing a perfectly straight angle to the landscape beyond the cavern. A silhouette towers over what would’ve been a beautiful view, an ostentatious wizard hat poking through the sky like a sharp-beaked crow.
The Shaman grins.
He advances through the divide, his footsteps almost imprinting the ground that they trace across, and with a yellowed-out smile, his face comes into your and Zoro’s view.
"It’s the demon and her protector. How delightful," he trills.
Your gaze shifts from Zoro to the shaman, apprehensively observing both of their movements. The wrinkled shaman’s eyes blaze with fervour, fuelled by the apparent thirst for your blood, and even the shadows cast by the cave walls seem to writhe in response to his undeniable want.
Taking a deep breath, you step forward. Immediately, the minions raise their arms up higher to their chests, and the shaman’s resentful eyes burns deeper into yours.
“I’m Raya…I’m a blacksmith,” you slowly say, raising a hand up in peace, the other resting on your dagger. “This is entirely a misunderstanding. I’m willing to resolve this peacefully if you are too.”
The shaman sneers, a twisted grin contorting his features. "Peace? The only peace that awaits you is in death."
“No.” You shake your head, maintaining a neutral expression across your face. "We can leave this place and never return. No more trouble for you or your people."
The shaman's laughter echoes through the cavern, his bright earthy eyes sharpening with each passing second.
"Your kind has caused chaos for far too long,” he spits at you, his fumbling fingers spinning in arcane energy. “Your kind is an abomination.”
The lackeys inch closer, their hands glowing with a tinge of ochre oranges and golds. Zoro, with a bitten back growl, tightens his grip on his sword, advancing a step closer to them.
"She’s giving you a chance to leave," Zoro warns, his voice cutting through the tension. "Take it."
The shaman's expression twists into curiosity, his eyes flickering to the swordsman in front of you. "No, foolish samurai, it all ends now."
And everything, all at once, becomes undone.
The lackeys surge forward, their hands emitting a wave of teeth-gritting power in your direction. Zoro charges into the fray, swords slicing through the arcane energies, as you, too, move with agility, the dagger in your hand deflecting their blinding light.
The shaman's raises his arms in revelation, his voice dripping with drunken pleasure.
"It all ends now. It all ends now."
As if a dam has burst, the enemy surges forward, balls of energy glowing golder and brighter within the centre of their chests.
Zoro charges into the fray with primal determination, the sword in his hand splitting through the ethereal onslaught with a hiss to his metal. In tandem, you move with an agility born from blood, the dagger in your hand slicing the energy with a dance of fury.
"This doesn't have to end in bloodshed!” You scream out, thrusting your dagger against an attacking hand. “Let us leave, and we swear to you we’ll never come back."
“Denied,” the shaman grins widely, a typhoon of dark energy convulsing within his fingers.
And in a single, swift motion, he aims his finger at you.
It all happens so quickly – neither you nor Zoro have the time to react.
The energy leaves his towering body, zapping into your blackened arm like the massive jaws of a convulsing animal. Your head snaps down, the blood rushing into your ears, your eyes widening in shock, and your breath lodging in your throat.
Although the adrenaline within you blocks any idea of pain, there’s an undeniable feeling of warm wetness that lingers across your skin. From your shoulder, down to your forearm, all the way down to the end of your wrist, a large slash slowly unsews from your skin, your body so easily unravelling under the shaman's fingers. The air hisses as your blood meets the atmosphere. And it sizzles.
Your blood sizzles on your skin, loud and heavy and metallic. And it burns within your bones like poison.
The shaman guffaws heavily, maddened eyes drinking in your frozen frame.
"Burn, demon, burn!" He yells, already pointing his fingers again at you, a ball of darkness growing within their tips.
Zoro immediately advances towards the shaman, a forceful slash thrown at his back. His grey eye, uncontrolled and drunk on rage, is widened beyond belief, the sword shaking in his hand as he shoves him away from your line of sight.
"Lay another finger on her, and I'll cut all your limbs off," Zoro bellows furiously, hissing and spitting in a voice that you've never heard come from him, dark and uncontrolled and incredibly not calm.
And although the wound in your arm continues to untether and de-skin itself, you keep on fighting. With the last remaining shreds of your energy, you fight through the unbreathable pain; the very air pulses with palpable tension as you attack and deflect, spin and thrust, until the edges of your vision finally blur into a ragged darkness.
Blood, the essence of life turned macabre, begins to spurt from your mouth in a crimson cascade. As the vitae meets the cool cavern air, it sizzles and burns, leaving third-degree kisses of pain across your skin. Almost instantly, your steps falter, teetering on the precipice of collapse.
"Hey!" Zoro's voice reverberates through the cavern, his terrified eye fixated on you from a distance. But before you can muster the words to tell him to stop, to turn around and leave you there, another gush of blood escapes your lips, and you choke, your eyes locked on his.
The world swirls in disorienting patterns, pain in your arm and the burning sensation in your mouth blending into a symphony of agony. Despite your struggle, Zoro charges in your direction, his voice laced with urgency and concern.
"Hold on. I've got you," he urgently hisses, strong fingers gripping your shoulders, a palm pressing firmly against your bleeding wound.
"Your blood betrays you, demon. Burn, demon, burn," the shaman taunts, his words a haunting echo in the cavern's twisted symphony.
Zoro, with every stroke of his swords, fights not just against flesh and magic but against the encroaching darkness threatening to consume you both. Your vision dims further, the edges of consciousness slipping away like sand through grasping fingers.
But before darkness consumes your vision, your body throbs aggressively within Zoro’s grasp.
BA-DUM.
The green-haired samurai snaps his head down at you, feeling the chaotic vibration within his palms.
BA-DUM.
With a heavy, pulsating beat, you scream out loud, piercing the cavern with your awful shrill.
BA-DUM.
The blood stings. Everything stings. Your arm feels untethered - your body, a bouncing ball.
BA-DUM.
And with one last howl, your body contracts, expands, and… explodes.
BA-DUM.
No. You dizzily look down to your body, seeing that everything’s still intact. You didn’t explode, no.
“What the fuck just happened?” Zoro yells out, gaping at the landscape above you. You tilt your head up, realising that none of the lackeys are there. The Shaman, too.
BA-DUM
But wait. They’re there. Outside the cavern, teetering off the edge of the mountain. Airborne but colliding aggressively with eachother.
BA-DUM
Colliding against each other within an invisible sphere of wind. A bitingly ferocious, yet perfectly controlled tempest ensures within the invisible borders of their ragged bodies, swirling in a way you could only describe as animalistic.
BA-DUM
Hah. You laugh a little to yourself, drunken from the sampled taste of death. They look like flying confetti strings, all tangled within each other. Absorbed by such a gluttonous typhoon.
Zoro shakes your shoulders, and your eyes blurrily graze across his face. He’s saying something – his mouth’s open, a helpless look on his face, the vibrations of his voice running through your body… but you can’t hear him.
You look back to the typhoon, the energy of growling wind ingraining itself so perfectly within the mountainous landscape.
BA-DUM.
It looks exactly like something your old man could wield.
#one piece#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro#one piece luffy#luffy#monkey d luffy#one piece ace#straw hat pirates#usopp#sanji#tony tony chopper#nico robin#straw hat luffy#one piece fanfiction#one piece fic#one piece fanfic#op fanfic#op fandom#female reader x zoro#zoro x female reader#zoro x fem reader#three sword style#zoro roronoa#zoro rorono x you#zoro roronoa x y/n#straw hats
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𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 | 𝘬𝘪𝘣𝘢 𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘢
pairing: bff!kiba x afab!reader
word count: 7.9k
warnings: nsfw! 18+! minors DNI! | just two best friends helpin' each other out, virgin!reader wants experience and kiba has it, pussydrunk!kiba, praise kink, oral (f! and m!recieving), primal play (kinda? like a sprinkle?), unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), he's down for you and its bad, other characters mentioned, all characters in their early/mid 20s, not thoroughly proofread, no use of y/n
author's note: this is 100% based on some thirsting that @tired-biscuit and i did for this man and... well, here we are. i listened to "nayhoo" by chon while writing the first bit of this. i also didn't anticipate it to be this long... 😅 it's my first time in a long ass time writing second-person as well, so just be gentle. there will absolutely be (at least) a part two where shit devolves at ino's new apt. i hope yall enjoy!
you can also read this on AO3 here.
KIBA’s fingers twitch as he watches you place a piece of strawberry into your mouth, your lips encasing your delicate fingertips in a way he knows should be innocent, should be just friends having lunch together, but it’s not. It hasn’t been for a long time.
Dappled sunlight filters in through the full, vibrant trees towering above you, and the incessant hum of cicadas fills the air, mixing with the cadence of rustling leaves in the summer breeze. Loose, thin clothes, skin glazed in a thin layer of humidity and sweat, clammy hands from thrumming heartbeats.
Summer has always been a favorite time for the both of you, ever since the summer you moved to Konoha during your childhood. The summer that changed everything. Sticky sweetness, endless days, sunburnt cheeks. Ever since, you and Kiba have been attached at the hip, having lived in the house just down the street and your mothers working together. Hours of fetch with Akamaru, rock skipping competitions with Shino as referee, hushed conversations with Hinata about Naruto. He accepted you with open arms; they all did.
“Just another one of the pack.”
Kiba hated when you and Hinata would sneak off, however. He’d bribe Shino—or attempt to—just to spy and listen. When Shino would call him out on his reddened ears, his anticipation in finding out the girl talk, his picking at his nails until you would return, he’d tug his hoodie up and change the subject.
“You like her.” Shino would tell him, plainly, a fact of life.
“No!” the brunette would huff. “She’s just a friend.”
Kiba takes a swig from his canteen, a drip of water fumbling from his lip to his chin when he pulls it away. He blinks away the memories of summers, of lifetimes spent under the same blazing sun. Sunburnt chests, laying on Akamaru with bare arms pressed to each other while looking for aliens, small, small clothes.
“That’s what friends are for, Kiba!” You say through the small bite.
“It’s going to be so hot though,” he whines, throwing his head back with his forehead scrunched in irritation. “Who the fuck moves in the middle of July? You know who? Crazy people, that’s who.”
“Whether you like it or not, Ino is moving,” you shake your head at him, a hint of playful irritation on your drawl as you watch his head tilt back, the expanse of his neck exposed. A dare, a first kiss, a summer night. “And we both agreed to help her. Besides, it’ll go by quick with all of us helping. You’ll be okay. ”
“So annoying.” He croaks, but then he lets his head fall forward. His intense, dark eyes settle on yours once more, and he fights the urge to drink you in the way he does when you’re not looking. When you’re fidgeting while you’re trying to beat him at Mario Kart, when your face is scrunched in concentration when you’re aiming a kunai.
He sends a sideways glance at Akamaru—a lifeline, a phone-a-friend— and the white-haired dog lets out the equivalent of a mumble and a shrug.
Kiba throws his hands in the air, exhaling a “Fine! Fine.”
“You’re such a baby.” You laugh, a teasing yet light sound.
A sound that causes a flutter to rampage through his chest, and a restrained tug of a smile spreads across his features in response. But he’s practiced this, practiced suppressing the itch in his hands to reach out, to kiss you, to breathe in that laugh as if it was the air itself he needs.
He already does that with your scent alone.
“Whatever.” He grabs a clump of rice in his chopsticks and eats it.
You can tell there’s a hint of something underneath the surface with Kiba, something that’s hard to pinpoint. Of course, during your girl talks with Hinata, you’d open your heart to her. About how Kiba didn’t scare you, despite his animalistic side, how he just wanted attention, that’s why he acts that way, about how much you had to refrain from squirming when he looked at you as you both got older.
She’d gasp when you would talk that way, but she’d always add her own tidbit of girlish tension in a hushed voice.
“So, uh… w-while we’re talking about favors…” you start, your eyes falling to the bento box in your lap.
“If you’re moving, too, the whole ride-or-die thing goes out of the window.”
“No, fuck no!” Another light laugh, another shake of your head, but this time more at yourself than anything. If only it was just moving...
You’ve been mulling on asking him about this for weeks now. You’d recently met a boy, because you, too, have practiced the art of burying the want to grab him, to feel the ripple of muscles that dance underneath the fishnet material of his shirt, to tangle your fingers in his hair and find out if he likes his hair tugged the way you do, if he doesn’t, moving yourself against him until his desires tumble out of him on their own.
But you’ve met a boy, Jun, who is sweet. Kind. A responsible, gentle Ninja. You’re in no way committed, no title. Your mother adores him, your father respects him. He’s yet to make you uncomfortable, opens doors for you, brings you flowers every time he sees you. You’ve gone on a few dates with him, and you like him—enough to want more than the heavy petting and stale kisses. But then there is a small part of you, small yet persistent enough—
“The way a man feels about you is crystal clear when you bed ‘im,” Ino had told you once during a ‘girl’s night’ at Sakura’s.
“What do you mean?”
“If he truly wants you,” the blonde continued, jabbing her finger in your direction. “He can’t fake that while buried inside.”
“I’m convinced love has its own chakra,” Sakura had added. “It moves between you and the other person. Like a bolt of lightning.”
“Or a burning fire.”
The small part of you that craves to see if he’d do it, and if you’d be able to tell which natural disaster would rage between you—if one at all.
“What’s with the serious-ass face? You’re scaring me…” Kiba continues, his voice pulling you back to the here and now. He leans forward to catch your eyes again, then continues in a whisper. “Do we need to hide a body?”
“Kiba—”
“Oh, wait, it is serious.” He clears his throat and sits up, a different demeanor taking him over. His gaze fixates on you, his position stiffening as he studies you in a fraction of a moment. “‘Kay, sorry. What’s up?”
“It’s about Jun.”
His muscles tighten, and he places his bento box on the blanket you’re both sitting on. The guy who takes you on dates, the guy he can tell you’re not head over heel for. Jun, who fills the time, because Kiba can tell sweet Jun bores you. At least, that’s what Kiba tells himself. “Okay.”
“Uh… I don’t really know how to ask this, so I’m just going to.” You shift in your seat, mustering the gumption to speak clearly, forward, just ask your best friend for a favor. A dare, the childhood magic in special first kisses, adult magic in special first times. Not wanting to look like a dunce to the boy your mother adores, your father respects.
“I want to sleep with Jun, but I’ve never… ya know. And you have, so—”
Ba-dum. A heavy heartbeat, thick in his ears, piercing his palms.
His eyes widen, dark and yet darker, darker still. Heat floods his cheeks, bubbling under his skin and filling his abdomen. The swelling of a storm.
Ba-dum.
“I know it’s weird, a-and you can absolutely say no. You’re my best friend, though, and it’s not like I can just ask anyone. This isn’t like a new development either, I wanted to wait to ask you—n-not that I’ve just been, ya know, thinking about this and you. I just have zero experience, you know that, but I want to be a bit more confident in—”
Ba-dum.
“Do you like him?” Kiba’s voice falls flat, more flat than he anticipates, but the words hang there. Screaming cicadas, colliding tree branches. “Really, truly like him?”
Ba-dum.
“Yeah.” You nod. You’re convincing yourself and lying to him all at the same time. But maybe, just maybe trusting Kiba with this moment, with your first time, with breaking the barrier between fantasy and reality—maybe it won’t be so bad. “I do.”
“Then I’ll do it.” He swallows the solid lump in his throat, convincing himself and lying to you all at the same time. “Besides, that’s what friends are for.”
—
Kiba told you he’d come over later that evening, to do whatever it is that made you most comfortable. Shower, don’t shower. Shave, don’t shave. Wear whatever it is you wanted, to pretend like he was just coming over like he always did, to hang out like you always did.
You couldn’t sit still the moment you got home. You cleaned and showered. Tried to read, tried to scroll through your phone, tried to do any- and everything you could to not get caught up in the motions of it all, fought yourself for ten minutes on if you should even light a candle or not because it’s not like that but damn it—
Yes it is.
But this wouldn’t mean anything, right? Regardless of a candle lit, which made the whole space smell of honeysuckle and lemon, it’s just your best friend, doing you a favor: teaching you how to work a cock by using his.
Oh, god, his cock. What would it look like? Feel like? Would it curve, or would it be veiny? The thought alone causes you to fidget in your seat on the couch, your eyes darting between the clock on your phone and the front door to your apartment. You feel your heartbeat in your ears and in your core, pulsing. Arousal pools in your underwear at the mere thought of him—how did you expect to function?—and you pinch your thighs together.
You still couldn’t believe he had agreed. And Kiba couldn’t either, even as he meandered his way to your door, his eyes steadfast in the direction of your apartment building. What made either of you think this was a good idea? Was his practice paying off? Did he want it to? He had finally, finally been offered the invitation, the “come over” call that he dreamed of. He had hoped, however, that the circumstances would be different, that it would be for him.
Two heavy knocks on the door alert you to his presence, though somehow you’re sure you catch the scent of his body wash before his knuckles meet the wood. You pull the door open. Musk, earth, hazelnut, bergamot. Messy kitchens, ugly, delicious cookies, using his shower and wearing his clothes.
He’s bathed as well, his hair still slightly damp as it hangs above his shoulders. A wide grin flashes over his face, his eyes disappearing into the image, his teeth catching the overhead light. Your face fills with a weighty heat, and your abdomen flutters at the sight of his broad shoulders and his toned arms under the fabric of his shirt.
He’s opted for his usual lounge attire: a t-shirt, joggers, and sneakers. In his hands are takeout—he’s always eating—and drinks for you to share. You felt underdressed somehow in your own home, donning a thin-fabriced, comfortable yet cute t-shirt and shorts combination—something you’d worn around him countless times. Yet, he’d shown up like this countless times, food and a smile in tow, and he somehow seems more prepared than you’d ever seen him. The way he’s standing tall, his chest open to you… had he prepared?
Despite the vanilla-scented body-wash and the floral candle, the moment the door opens, revealing you in your post-shower, pre-coitus flush, he takes in the intoxicating scent of your arousal, of your skin, of you, and he presses his intent further into his smile. Not here, not now, not just past the threshold.
“Brought food. I doubt you ate.”
This motherfu—
“Thanks. I… actually haven’t eaten, now that I think about it.”
The tension is palpable. He’s trying a little too hard not to look at you, to not brush by you and linger. Though, he doesn’t understand why. You’d asked him to come over and help you, to quell the curiosity of experience, to be good for Jun.
The swelling of a violent storm.
You step aside and allow him in, and he does what he always does: makes himself at home, rummages through your cabinets for plates, a fork, two cups. You watch his hands maneuver whatever he’s holding, the muscles in his forearms. He keeps his nose buried in the food, trying to find something, anything to focus on other than you, in all of your totality.
Kiba jokes with you, carries on conversation while he divides out the food, move to the couch, sit just far enough to not touch, yet close enough to still feel each other’s body warmth. He’s talking and talking, rambling about the day you had already heard about, about a new bug Shino had shown him, about the hot springs he wants to go to in the town over. Maybe, just maybe, he’s nervous, too.
He jokes with you, as if he’s not already imagining your velvety throat wrapped around his aching girth, your face contorted in pleasure as he laps his tongue over your sensitive clit, his name tumbling out of your mouth, hitched and squeaked: “Kiba, Kiba—!”
“Ki-ba~!” You wave a hand over his glazed-over eyes as you call his name, sing-song and light, an attempt to bring him back from wherever he disappeared to as he’s stuck, freeze-frame, a cup halfway lifted to his mouth. You lean against the back of the couch toward him, only slightly, with an eyebrow cocked and a grin peeling back the corners of our mouth. “Where did you go, bud?”
There’s a split second, less than a blink of an eye where his hand is holding his drink; the next, it’s wrapped around your wrist, the cup on the table. How did he…?
His grip is tight, steadying, but then it eases by a fraction, and he finds himself studying the palm of your hand, imagining it wrapped around his throbbing, swollen girth, before his eyes flick up to yours, his jaw clenched, tight, teeth grinding as the wheels he’d frozen over long ago begin to turn, churning, yearning—
“Why did you ask me to do this?” His voice is low, hoarse, carried by a held breath, a tight chest.
There’s an underlying shift happening, and you can feel it in the soles of your feet, the palms of your hands. He somehow seems larger, taller, more devious. A full moon, an autumn night, finding out the ride the full moon sent him on before he disappears, unable to show you the animal that wanted to come out and ravage you, the side of Kiba he saves for the girls he will never see again because he can’t ruin you, you’re his best friend, his confidant.
Ba-dum.
He’s close, so close to you that you can see the pulse of his heartbeat in his neck. So close that the burning heat radiating off of him causes your own skin to surge, your heart to lurch, the damned fluttering in your abdomen. His eyes are zeroed in on you, black irises inflamed with dilated pupils. Hungry, restrained. Electricity ignites within your veins under his touch. He’s touched you, many times. A hug, a helping hand, a comforting shoulder. Why does this feel different?
“Because I trust you.”
Ba-dum.
His heart swells, clawing at his ribcage, screaming to be set free. You trust him. With your secrets, with your life, with your body. His gaze flicks on your lips, only for a moment, before his devilish eyes find yours once more.
Ba-dum.
“Have you ever even touched a cock before?” He murmurs, his tone taking on something silken and starved. He pivots his body to turn, his eyebrow cocked, a whisper of a coy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and he closes the space between you, the space that’s always between you.
You blink as a prickling heat travels up your spine, his question as well as his shift in energy catching you off-guard. Kiba’s never spoken to you, let alone around you this way, even when joking. Though he told you whenever he brought a girl home, or made out with another, you’re sure the gruesome details of his sexual escapades were dumped on Shino, or maybe even Naruto, if anyone. But you’re familiar with the wild look in Kiba’s eyes, the way he’s looking at you: a predator searching for his prey. The other side of Kiba.
“You’d know if I—” You start, but your words catch in your throat as you attempt to let them spill all over your kitchen counter. Even if it had happened, would you tell him? Would it have been in confidence, to share a story time, or would it have been to get even a chance to see a flicker of jealousy, of rage, of something? “No, I haven’t. N-not, ya know… skin to skin, anyway.”
The sting of embarrassment bubbles in our throat, your voice smaller than you wanted it, and whispers nothing good into your ears, but you maintain your eye contact. You made the first pitch, and now it’s game time.
“And you’re sure you want me to be the first?” He asks before he brings your palm to lips and presses a wet yet tender kiss to it. The notion surprises him, that he allowed himself more than anything, but he knows what it’s doing to you—he can smell it. “I do also have your first kiss, so I’d be two-for-two, bud.”
The feeling of his mouth on you sends coursing fire to your cunt, and you can almost, almost feel his lips against your now-soaked folds. And he’s patronizing you, a playful lilt clinging to the nickname, but you don’t hate it. It’s Kiba, in totality. Him making sure, despite his coy grin and thirsty eyes, only makes you want him more.
“I don’t know if that really counts…” You mutter. It does count, and it’s always counted, but he doesn’t need to know that. A stupid game of truth or dare one adolescent summer, the summer you knew you’d never rid your thoughts of Kiba. A summer initiating the biggest game of make-believe.
“How rude.” He smiles against your hand, and his hot breath and pointed canines brush against your palm. He shrugs, his grip falling from your arm, and then he exhales a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll have to make up for it, then. Can’t have meaningless kisses out there.”
Ba-dum.
Lighting cracks inside of you as his large hands splay across your hips and pull you into his lap. Your hands scramble, only for a moment, before one lands on the back of the couch, and the other finds purchase on his shoulder.
The battle within him is raging, a savage and destructive thing. He wants to take you, now, now, but he can’t, he won’t. You’re not the girls he’s given meaningless kisses to. You’re his best friend, and he’s waited this long.
He can wait just a little bit longer.
Ba-dum.
Draping your thighs around his hips, he looks up at you with earnest eyes, a moment of hesitation between you two as he waits for a no, a wait, a maybe we shouldn’t. The pulsing heat of his cock strains against his joggers, pressed firmly against your core as he holds you against him. Though muffled by the thick denim, you feel the aching throb beneath you, the pulsing twitch, the size.
Ba-dum.
When the blockade doesn’t come, and you meet his gaze with an equally intrigued look, his grip on your shirt tightens. He cranes his neck up, and he whispers against your lips, “I have a rule.”
Your heart stutters at the husk in his voice, the low demand for attention. “Okay…”
“If you have questions, ask. And—eh, I guess two rules.” Kiba murmurs against your lips, his face flushed in the dim lighting. “If you want something, tell me.”
Your ears burn, the flush causing your skin to prickle. Your hair hangs at the side of your face, closing you and Kiba into a world of your own, the world you both have always played in. Just the two of you.
“Okay.” You nod, your body ignited in a burning flame. “I will.”
Kiba’s lips collide with yours, rough and excited, then soften, pull back, relax, as his hands tangle the fabric of your shirt in their grasp, and his hips tilt up into yours. A slight movement, one he barely notices himself, but the weight of you on him alone sends a shiver through his body. Another subconscious jerk of his pelvis, reacting to the warmth, the weight, you you you.
The air in your lungs vanishes as his lips bring a reprieve, a cold drink on a hot summer day, lifting the lid before it all boils over, and your grip on his shoulder tightens. Head spinning, a drunken buzz just from his kiss. There’s a small moment that wonders if this is actually a fantasy, something you’ve conjured up in your head, a fever dream.
Your own hips move as you run your tongue along his bottom lip, adding intent as you roll against him, slow, methodical, feeling his entirety through the mere layers of fabric separating the two of you. Always something in the way.
A heavy breath against your lips, he opens his mouth and allows the dance to commence, a slow dance that soon turns into a tango, fervent, impassioned, both of your bodies submitting to what they’ve desired. He tastes of takeout and impulse decisions, sunburnt cheeks, swollen lips, a stupid crush that isn’t a crush but a fact of life. Your hold on the couch releases, and your fingers tangle in his head of dark, thick hair. A grounding grip, a slight tautness against the nape of his neck.
“Fuck…” He huffs before he nips at your bottom lip, his fingers dip underneath your shirt, grazing the flesh of your hips. He takes handfuls of your hips and brings you down against him further, closer, closing more of the space, more of that damned thing always in the fucking way. His lips trail from yours to your neck, the space below your ear, and he runs a flattened tongue along your skin, tasting it, breathing you in before sloppy kisses decorate your neck.
Your eyes fall hooded, and a light pant tumbles out of you at the contact. He sucks at a particular spot, bringing blood to the surface, his canines barred against your flesh.
“Kiba!” You gasp, the hint of a nervousness in your tone, and you detach yourself, only slightly, slightly. “You can’t leave any marks.”
“Sorry, sorry!” He chuckles, and then it hits him, crashes into him that you’re there, he’s here, and he’s supposed to be teaching you and yet, yet, he’s caught in the tidal wave of learning you. His cheeks and ears tinge with a beet red glaze, and he swallows thickly as he stares up at you. “I’ll try to remember.”
“But I want you to.” is what you want to say, but you don’t.
“It’s okay,” you reassure with another light laugh. “I’ll be sure to remind you.”
“I’m happy you did. Don’t ever feel like you can’t speak up with someone, especially if you’re, ya know… If a guy doesn’t listen to you, he—wait, what are you—”
He had started to ramble, stumbling in the moment of stillness. You, however, found the moment to be just when the courage hit to reach a delicate hand down and trace the edge of his joggers.
“I want to see it.” Your eyes flick to his lap, to the strained outline of his still throbbing, stiff cock before finding his gaze again.
Stunned, he stares up at you with wide eyes. Your words echo in his head, over and over, his ears ringing at the sound of your inquiry. When the blockade, the no, the maybe we shouldn't, doesn't come, you peel yourself away from him and lower yourself between his spread knees.
The swelling storm brews inside of him, the savage and violent force of nature. Wait, wait, relax.
“Thank you for telling me.” His eyes don’t leave you as you swallow another weighty lump in your throat, and you pull at the combined bands of his joggers and underwear. He lifts himself up, just enough to help slide the two layers of fabric off of him, watching your reaction.
When his erect member springs up at the sudden relief and twitches, your eyes widen. It’s nothing like the ones you had seen on a screen, but it's like the ones people write about. Thick is an understatement, and two prominent veins run along his length. A pink head, the color of his lips, donned with a dribble of clear slick and wrapped in taut skin. The image of his aching cock sends heat pooling at your core, and you shift in your spot—though it only makes things worse, and your heartbeat thrums in your clit.
He sucks in a breath at your innocent gape, the sight causing his mind to go to dark places where you’re screaming his name, head buried against the mattress, it’s too deep, I’m gonna break, his hand tangled in your mess of hair.
You glance up at him in his flustered state, before you turn your eyes downward and wrap a unsure but willing hand around the base. His hips jerk into your touch, and one of his hands finds purchase on the couch cushion, his knuckles whitening as he keeps himself grounded by his grip. His mind is reeling, a flipbook of the thousand positions he’d kill to see you in, put you in.
“Shit…” He spits through clenched teeth.
“Did I—” You freeze.
“N-no, you’re fine, you can—” He starts, but your slow, fisted movement up and then down his shaft cuts him off. “Yeah, like that…”
“That’s okay?” You ask as you slowly pump your hand around him, your eyes flicking between his length in your hand and his eyes on you.
“Y-Yeah.” Kiba nods, saliva pooling in his mouth as he watches you, dinner and dessert in front of him on a silver platter. He clears his throat, the anticipation making him fidgety. The longer he had to wait, the more the pulsing desperation in his length called to him, begging him for release.
He has to wait a little bit longer.
You nod, and then you sit up on your knees and tighten your grip, just slightly, and increase your pace. His eyebrows pull together as he continues to observe, a face of pleasure, and you feel another wave of heat rush under your skin. Your hand reaches the tip, and the precum allows the smallest bit of lubrication as you twist your hand, up and down.
“You’re doing a good job,” he groans, his voice deeper than before, hoarse, restrained. Hearing him like this, praising you, you’re sure you’ll go insane by the end of the night—if you weren’t already. “You can use your mouth, too.”
“I know!” You quip, embarrassment tingling your cheeks. “I was getting there. Though I don’t know if it’ll fit…” The last bit is more for yourself than anything, said under your breath, but he hears you, and he can’t help but imagine you choking on his fat cock, tears streaming down your face.
Ba-dum.
You lean forward, your eyes crossing as you near your target, and your hand settles at the base. You can do this, you tell yourself, before an unsure yet more than willing tongue licks at his cockhead. He tastes of salt and velvet, and your waiting eyes flick up at him.
“Like that,” he purrs, his deep eyes, dark and yet darkening, narrowed on you by the time you’re looking at him. So intent on watching you, committing the scene to memory.
The encouragement leads you to flatten your tongue and run it along the length of one of the veins. His girth twitches in reaction, accompanied by a breathy curse and a jerk upwards of his hips, though this time intentional.
“Around the tip,” he instructs, his voice trapped somewhere between a groan and a whine. It’s the best he can do to keep himself from fucking into your throat.
You do as he says, swirling your hot tongue around the pink head, collecting his slick in your mouth and finding yourself relishing in the taste.
“Good girl. You’re doing so good.” He pants as his hand, purposefully slow, pushes your hair out of your face and collects it into a loose bunch at the back of your head. His head feels light, like if he doesn’t hold onto you someway, somehow, he’s going to float away.
The two syllables bring your thighs together, a thrum of pressure building in your cunt. You’re soaked already, you can feel it gathering in your underwear, but something about his tone, his dilated eyes downcast, his heedless praise that urges you further, to slowly and messily run glaze his skin with your tongue, circling, up, down. You wanted to hear it more, hear his sounds of pleasure, hear his words of adoration. For him to touch you, everywhere.
And he knows. He senses the shift in your energy, the way you tense up when he encourages you, and he smells it, the collection of wetness just one, two layers away. His grip on your hair tightens, tension gathered at the nape of your neck.
You swirl your tongue once, twice, three times around the tip before you wrap your pretty lips around his cock, sucking at it.
A popsicle, a strawberry at lunchtime, brewing electricity.
“Oh, fuck—” Kiba growls, and his hips buck into the warmth of your mouth as you bob your head, taking small, increasing portions of him each time, little moans vibrating his skin. “Shit, yes, like that. So fucking good.”
A slippery tongue, fingers tangling in hair, flashing lightning.
“Such a good girl. Move your hand while you—yes.” He pants as he watches his cock disappear into your throat, your hand pumping whatever you don’t take in your mouth.
Two gazes met.
Ba-dum.
The crackling roll of thunder.
Within a moment, he scoops you up with a huff of impatience—so fucking fast, how does he do that—and you let out a yelp of surprise.
“Kiba!” You squirm as you’re placed over his shoulder and carried into your bedroom.
He doesn’t answer you verbally; instead, he shrugs you onto the bed, and you land on your back. His erect member is still out, fully exposed, but he doesn't pay any mind to it as he takes fistfuls of your shorts and tugs them off, unwrapping you, a little present, just for him.
“Kiba, what are you—” You start, but your words tangle in your throat when he rids you of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. Unwrapped, a present, just for him.
“Oh!” You exclaim when he hooks his arms under your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the bed.
He falls to his knees, his intense eyes falling to your glistening folds. You smell even sweeter this way, and his head buzzes, dizzied, intoxicated as he drinks you in. His composure is slipping, and he wastes no time lapping his tongue along your slit, from entrance to clit.
“Oh…!” You purr, and then you muffle yourself with your hand as schlurp sound comes from him kissing your cunt, sloppy and hasty. His tongue is rough against your sensitive skin, and when it catches your swollen bud, your hips jerk under him, moaning against your palm.
“No,” he huffs against you in that hoarse, demanding voice. He laps his tongue along your entirety, and then he suckles at your throbbing clit, his eyes watching, always watching. “I wanna hear you.”
“But what if—ahh, fuck—!” You tremble under his touch, your voice hushed, and you grip the blanket. You, too, feel the weightlessness, the risk of drifting away if you don’t. Your face contorts into bliss as your back arches, pushing yourself against his mouth. It’s like you’re vibrating, hanging in a space between fantasy and reality. This isn’t real, it can’t be, his mouth can’t feel that good, not Kiba’s mouth, not—
His nails press into your skin as he holds on to you, pulling you closer, closer to him as he eats you, his fervent and messy movements building a tension in your abdomen more intense than anything you’ve accomplished by yourself. His tongue teases your entrance, your nectar driving him further. He delves it into you, holding you against him as he fucks his appendage into your sopping cunt.
“Kiba—” You moan into the air, your other hand finally finding purchase on his arm, clinging to him.
His name tumbles from your lips, and for a moment, he swears the world goes silent, a deafening ringing filling his ears as you call out. He feels you tightening around him, a bewildered aura taking him over. He’s now desperate for your release, to feel you squirm and writhe underneath him, to keep calling his name. He trails his tongue back to your clit, flicking, circling as a slender finger finds your entrance. It slips inside, your arousal coating his skin, and it pumps in and out of you, restrained, slow.
“Oh, god,” you exhale, your eyes widening as he adds another finger, his digits curling inside of you. “Oh, that feels so good, fuck.”
“Mmmhh.” He watches you arch off the bed, his nose pressed to your mound, his tongue making quick and heavy work of your pulsing clit, stretching you as he adds another finger, slow, waiting for the blockade, the maybe we shouldn’t.
His pulsing length twitches, a violent motion that calls his attention, but he forces it out of his mind. This is about you, about stretching you and pushing you over the edge, your sweet release. The tightness of your walls tells him it's soon, your body tense.
Instead, his pumping of his slender digits is met with another cry of his name. Three fingers stuffed, his fingertips massaging the sweet spot inside of you. The burn of the stretch pulls your eyebrows together, and yet you roll your hips against him, wanting the friction, craving the release, another explosion of deafening thunder, the swelling thunderstorm that is Kiba.
“Ki-Kiba, I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence. It hits you, almost out of nowhere. You’re unraveling, your legs shaking, your skin on fire and the swelling storm raging, ravaging your entire body as it caves in. Your juices pour out of you, trickling down his chin, and he drinks you up with another loud schlurp.
“Fuck.” He groans against you, and his lips envelop your clit as he pumps his fingers into back you, his tongue resuming its assault. His fingers move in you with a faster pace, a hardened pressure against the spongy flesh inside of you. “I need you to cum again. To be ready for my cock.”
“Oh, shit!” You sob. “Right there, right there, right there—”
You’re so sensitive, so intoxicated by the way he handles you, the way he looks at you, the way even he smells, tastes, feels.
“That’s it.” He eggs you on, the itch to palm himself, to rut into you, to lose it just out of reach.
You claw at his arm, at the sheets, at anything you can. You’re going to explode, his slippery tongue and fervent fingers bringing you again, closer to ecstasy.
“Cum for me,” he demands, and as if you’d been born to listen, you do on his gruff command, crying out curses as a mind-stopping orgasm bursts through you. You see stars, the entire night sky on your bedroom ceiling.
“Good girl.” He swipes his tongue along your clit before he removes his fingers from you, slow, gentle, and he sucks his fingers clean of your slick, his girth throbbing harder, harder at your taste. Honey glaze, a spark of lightning, crashing branches in the wind.
He steps out of his joggers and tugs off his shirt, his shoes having been left at the door long ago, his blood coursing through his veins, liquid metal, at the sight of your shivering, half naked body beneath him. With another fast motion, he’s hovering over you, his arm wrapped around your waist to bring you back further onto the bed, your head hitting pillows this time. His hands graze from your thighs and up your shirt, his palms brushing the hardened peaks of your nipples before he lifts your shirt off of you. And then he stares down at you, starved yet adoring eyes. Skinny dipping, a lakeside fire, burnt marshmallows.
You meet his gaze as your chest heaves, coming down slowly from your high, studying the angle of his collarbone, the curve of his chest, the dim light highlighting the flesh that you never dared to touch, to learn—until now. You place your hands on his arms, feeling the ripple of muscle as you feel his shoulders, his chest.
A moment, suspended in time between the both of you. Your heavy breathing fills the otherwise quiet room and the low, rhythmic hum of cicadas just outside your window. Your heart is a drum inside of your chest, beating, beating, bursting as he looks down at you, and your heart skips as you feel his cockhead tease your entrance, rubbing against your slick folds and causing a hitched gasp to fall when it grazes over your sensitive clit.
“Are you ready for me?” Kiba inquires in a husky voice, gravely and controlled.
Ba-dum.
“Yes,” you whisper in return, your hands settling on his biceps as you keep your eyes on his.
“Okay,” he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat, and he presses himself into you, slow, achingly slow.
Ba-dum.
Another gasp wracks your chest, and your eyes widen again as you watch his face scrunch in concentration. And then he whines, a short and quiet sound that makes your ears ring. He wants to jerk into you, bottom out, and the self-restraint is slipping out of his grasp like grains of sand.
Ba-dum.
“Relax for me,” he urges you through clenched teeth as your walls remain tight around him.
“S-Sorry. Oh, fuck, Kiba. I-it���s huge.” You stammer as you glance down at his girth disappearing into you, stretching you past anything your fingers, even his, could offer. You feel every inch of him as he spreads you, opening his present, celebrating his own holiday.
“I know, I’m sorry. You’re taking me so well.” He pants, working hard not to split you in two.
Ba-dum.
The pinch of his stretching you is different, much different than his fingers. He pulls himself back before pushing into you again, your slick aiding in his movements. It’s nothing like how you imagined, the awful and bloodied thing that’s rumored to be losing your virginity, but as he loads himself fully into you, pushing past the subtle barrier within, your body tenses up again, and a tinge of pain replaces the pleasure.
“S-sorry, sorry.” He stumbles over his words. For years, he’s wondered what his girth would look like with you donning it, and now it’s here, right here. And it’s beautiful, heavenly. He doesn’t have the words to describe the way you look wrapped around him—the way you look in general, let alone eyebrows upturned, sweat collecting along your hairline, a heaving chest—but worth every fucking minute of waiting.
“Just—gimme a sec, okay?”
Ba-dum.
“Yeah, yes, sure.”
You take in deep breaths, wetness pooling at your entrance, and you ease the tension in your muscles, allowing yourself to acclimate. Relax, relax, but fuck you’re at capacity, at your wits end, wanting to unravel all over again—and he’s barely even moved.
“Okay… we’re good.”
“You sure?”
Ba-dum.
“Yes.” You answer, a strong syllable on your tongue. You’ve never been so sure in your life.
Ba-dum.
And he hears the certainty, feels it reverberate through his bones. He pulls himself back, then into you again, another restrained roll of his hips. You can tell he’s holding back with the way his face is pulled together, with the vein in his neck jutted out.
“Shit.” Kiba mutters, one hand finding purchase on your hip while the other supports him on the bed.
“Fuck, Kiba…” You sigh, your body slowly making room for him.
“My name sounds nice when you moan it,” he purrs, leaning down, his skin desperate for contact with yours.
“Don’t say things like that,” you whisper, a near-plea, your nails digging into his skin as your eyes fall half-hooded. And then he hits that spot, the spot, deep within you, and your back lifts off the bed, pressing your chest to his, another moaned swear falling out of you.
“Why?” He grins, a coy look that almost makes his depraved gaze seem sweet. “It’s true.”
“Idiot…” You respond, your voice hitched.
“Hm?” He cocks his head to the side, a wild look filling his features. He jerks his hips, once, hard, bucking into you before returning to his agonizingly slow pace. “Couldn’t hear you.”
“Fuck!” You cry out, dragging your nails along his skin. It hurts, his abrasiveness, but it hurts in a way you don’t hate, that you almost want again. “Fucking asshole.”
“Asshole?” He chuckles, a guttural sound that isn’t impressed. He ruts into you again, wanting to hear that squeaky little voice, that pitched moan that he’s creating. “Baby girl, that’s not you really mean, is it?”
“Goddamn it, fuck, Kiba!” Your voice carries through the room, sending a prickling heat up his spine at the sound. You’re full, so full, and his resolve is slipping, slipping, gone altogether when you sob out his name again.
“Look at you, taking all of me,” he praises, and he glances down at his work before a growled moan leaves his own lips. “Fuck, you’re doing so good.”
Pleasured tears burn your eyes, and you look up at him before reaching up, without thinking, and tangle your hands in his hair, pulling him fully against you. Another sound of pleasure vibrates his chest, muffled as he presses his lips to yours, another messy, impassioned, needy dance.
Another whine escapes him as the restraint fades away into nothing. Your hips open for him, your legs wrapping around his waist as his movements become heavier, more momentum behind them. He envelops you with his arms, one hooked on your shoulder and the other holding your hip. You’re so close, so close; there is no longer anything in the fucking way.
“The way a man feels about you is crystal clear when you bed ‘im.” Ino’s words weigh on your mind, and you wonder if friends are supposed to cling to each other like this.
Of course they don’t, but you don’t allow the thought to cross your mind. Not here, not now.
“Kiba, Kiba—” You pant against his lips between struggling breaths and fervent kisses.
“You’re fucking heaven,” he huffs in return. He moves again, peeling away from you only to push your legs to your chest before leaning down again.
“Fuck, it’s so fucking deep.”
“That’s it,” he coos, his balls slapping against you as he fucks into you, his mercy and patience wearing thin. “Take it all. Good girl.”
The earth-splitting strike of lightning, the house-shaking rumble of thunder.
You’re spinning, free-falling as his length is buried inside of you, his cockhead brushing against your cervix. It’s deep, too deep, not deep enough. Your nails rake across his shoulder blades. His lips find the curve of your neck, and he sucks at the skin, biting down, keeping you in place.
“Shit, shit—” The bubbling of heat collects in your abdomen, and you grip his hair once more, tight, a grounding grip.
He growls against your flesh as he brings the blood to the surface, but this time he doesn’t stop. He’s marking you, his, his, his.
“Kiba!” You call out, your voice echoing, laced with a warning and pure nirvana.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, licking the skin, before landing on another spot on the other side and repeating himself. “I can’t fucking help it. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t mean it, and you can tell. The unfortunate part is: neither do you.
He mutters another half-apology as his thrusts become relentless, fucking into you as he did with the girls he gave meaningless kisses to. But you’re not them, you’re you, it’s not meaningless, it never will be.
You sob his name as you cling to him, the wet sounds accompanying the slap of skin. You’re floating away, gone, a fever dream within a fever dream, trembling legs hugging his waist.
“G-Gonna—”
“Fuck, yes, cum for me. Cum all over this fucking cock.”
And you do, hard. A violent, shattering burst of heat and your essence that sends you into orbit, lightheaded, tears of bliss rolling down your cheeks. Your walls clench around him, milking him for everything he has.
He thrusts into you, enough force behind them to rock the bed, to scoot you further into the pillows as his own climax swells. He bottoms out once, twice, each jerk making you cry out before he pulls away from you, a hasty and frantic movement, steadying his member in his hand as ropes of white hot cum land across your stomach in spurts.
You pant for air, chest heaving, your head still reeling by the time he’s wiped you clean of his essence, your body twitching as it works to come down from its nirvana. You hear him in the kitchen before he emerges at the bedside, a glass of water handed to you as he sits next to you.
“Here.” He says gently, his tone now opposite of what it was mere moments ago.
“Thanks.” You sigh, and you sit yourself up, slowly, before taking the glass. After a few sips, you hand it back to him, and he follows your lead, one, two gulps of ice-cold heaven in a glass. Water has never tasted so sweet before.
“You okay?” He asks, looking over your sprawled-out body, a whisper of a laugh in his voice.
“Yeah…” you nod, though you can already tell you’ll be sore, so fucking sore tomorrow. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”
“Never better.” He grins, and then his eyes widen as he catches his practice, his art of suppressing his feelings for you also slipping from his grasp. He clears his throat and looks down at the drink in his hand. You can tell the wheels in his mind are turning, grinding, but you don’t ask.
You don’t have to. That’s what friends are for.
#my writing#kiba inuzuka#kiba inuzuka x reader#x reader fic#kiba smut#kiba inuzuka smut#kiba fanfic#goddamn why cant i write a DRABBLE#inuzuka kiba#inuzuka kiba x reader
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Hiii I really enjoy your work!
I was just wondering, do you have any recommendations for other blogs who write similarly to your work or just blogs that you love?
Thanks!
Oh my gosh anon, this is so sweet!! Thank you 🥹 I’ve probably answered this too eagerly and you’ll think I’m lame now but I love to gush over my friends too much to wait!
Since I’m multifandom and I’m not sure if you’re referring to specific works of mine I’ll put some different authors that I adore from my current top 3 fandoms! (To anyone I don’t list, I love you all I just can’t write everyone out <3)
Naruto:
@tired-biscuit (especially if you’re a kiba girlie (gn) or naruto. Read Trouble… seriously.)
@rookie98writes (my fellow kakashi simp, practically my sister wife with our love for that man)
@azurelyy (not active rn but has a lot of great works)
@nightingaleflow (gaara and rock lee enthusiast!)
JJK(specifically Nanami):
@honeylavendr (knight nanami lives rent free in my head)
@peachsayshi (never fails to have me kicking my feet)
@pseudowho (will make you laugh, make you cry and everything in between… operation baby maker? Need I say more)
@strwbrrybxn (sugar daddy kento will be with me forever)
Haikyuu:
@kingdaddydaichi (not active rn but writes the best daichi fics I’ve ever read in my life)
@ceo-of-daichi (also fellow daichi simp 👏)
@neiptune (entering their hq phase and I am so here for it!!)
I need to flesh this fandom out more…
Blogs that I just love:
@mydiluc (always got cute ideas and poses excellent self ship questions and offers rich lore and smut)
@zorosdimples (never fails to say something that makes me moan into my pillow)
@likelilacwine (literal sunshine on the dash)
@actuallysaiyan (super sweet and loves to thirst 🤭)
That’s all for right now! I hope this helps <3
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Satoru Gojo x Reader
⚠️ Manga spoilers for those that haven't read chapter 236. You've been warned.
Gojo: Your favorite Sanrio mascot is cinnamoroll, you get turned on by blindfolds and you have the emotional maturity of a five year old.
First Date:
You somehow pass the entrance exam and are now enrolled in the Tokyo branch of Jujitsu High. You transport your luggage to your new room but it's really just 50 pounds of unopened sweets that you smuggled in. You wait until the dead of night and then slowly let your addiction consume you.
Currently you are boiling sugar in a spoon with a bic lighter underneath as you had some twizzlers tied together against your arm as a makeshift phlebotomy tourniquet. Before you could inject the sweet nectar into your viens, you noticed a strange sound. You heard loud sniffing sounds outside your door and became petrified. You wondered if it was some kind of curse and you now understood why there was a rule about no food after midnight. The door started to open and you were now trembling.
You heard a growling sensation but to your relief it was just your idiot teachers stomach. "GOJO, WHAT THE HELL!" you screamed and then suddenly his hand clamped down on your mouth. "Yo. If you make too much noise then we'll get caught." He then gave you a cocky grin and removed himself. You were about to question him when the man started to moan. "Ahhh. I knew I smelled sweets!" At least you now knew the horrible sounds earlier where from your teacher and not a curse.
Gojo then pulled something out of his pocket but before you could question it, there was now a pixie stick in your hand, mirroring his. "Let's get this party started!" You then understood what the man intended on doing. Gojo then stacked together some of your school books and then slowly unwrapped the treat seductively. He then poured the sugar into a neat row and then snorted the line. He now had a stream of blood flowing out his nose. "He's high..." you muttered.
You then pulled out a box of pocky and then waived it in the air as if it were a dog treat. Gojo then got on all fours and started panting. You then placed the chocolate in between your lips and waited to see if he would play your little game. He crawled closer and then put his lips around the other end of the biscuit. The two of you both started chowing down and your lips were so close that you started blushing. Now there was only an inch left and you waited to see if he would make the first move. Just before that could happen you started hearing a harpie screech. God damn it. It was your bitch of a mom.
----------------------------------
Once again this poor woman had to enter this crypt of a room and witness the assault of another poor, helpless body pillow. This time it was now the character your daughter would never shut up about. Gojo something? Anyway it was time to drag your goblin spawn out and inform her that it was now time for her monthly bath. "Sweetie you better get in the backyard so I can hose you off! The neighbours are complaining about the stench again!" Unfortunately for you she didn't intend to cooperate.
"I HATE YOU! YOU INTERRUPTED ME AND SENSEI. I WAS ABOUT TO HAVE MY FIRST KISS!" You couldn't help but laugh at how surreal the situation had become. "That's nice honey but Mojo Gojo can wait a little while..." Your patience was running thin. Your daughter then began to scream something about you being a baka or whatever that was and how she was now going on tiktok to look at 2D thirst traps? This was getting tiresome.
You then grabbed the hopefully just sweat stained pillow from your little crotch goblin. She stared back into your eyes, maybe as an attempt to say she wouldn't back down and lose? You then decided to throw her own words back at her. You knew this phrase by heart due to how many times a day you had to hear it. "I think this is what the kids say... nah I'd win." You then tore your daughters beloved pillow in half, hastily throwing the upper half on to the floor.
The creature known as your daughter was now screaming at you, her lungs filled with rage "I HATE YOU FRAUDKUNA! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND OUT OF MY LIFE!" You gladly left and then slammed the door. You had no idea what a fraudkuna was but you know knew that he must be a God if he could take control of the situation where you had failed as a parent.
#shitpost#cursed#crack treated seriously#crack fic#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#jjk spoilers#spoilers#jjk 236#body pillow#major character death
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I have to ask why is the marauders fandom so obsessed with Sirius and his looks? You guys act like he’s this Casanova but there’s no proof of it. Yes, he’s mentioned to be good looking but I’ve met my fair share of pretty boys who turn me off as soon as they open their mouths. Everything around Sirius is always made so sexual… it’s either Wolfstar or Jilypad. It’s like you guys can’t get over this looks and dig deeper into his personality, family history, and his life story. There’s so much material and stories that could be told but everyone focuses on his looks and it’s so condescending. If you guys do tell his story it’s like 20% his story 80% of everyone trying to shag him. I can’t find one story that actually does a great job of telling the brotherhood between the marauders, without turning it into some story of how everyone is obsessed with Sirius’ looks. James and Sirius were brothers in every way but in blood. We don’t know much about Lily and Sirius but with the letter sent she obviously cared enough to reach out to him because James missed his best friend and was having a hard time at the cottage. Remus and Sirius relationship is tragic and isn’t talked about enough. The guy was willing to become an animagus to help him but didn’t trust him enough to think I he was working against the order? Then there’s Peter who is by far the most underrated marauder and fooled them all, and got Sirius sentenced to Azkaban for 12 years. There’s so much more to Sirius then his looks and making up sexual relationships with the marauders. I used to love marauder fandom but the new writers have ruined everything and turned it into stories of everyone wanting to shag Sirius. There’s no plot, no story line, only the whole wizarding world fawning over how gorgeous Sirius is.
My poor dear anon,
What shallow, misguided corners of the fandom have you found yourself into?
I don't know if you found me through my writing or my latest shitpost. Probably the latter, because if you'd spent any time around here, you'd know that Sirius, for me, is so much more than someone to fawn over and shag - he's one of the most intelligent, most loyal, most characters and I'm fascinated by so many more of his facets than his indubitable handsomeness. (I do love to thirst over good artwork of him, but that's not exclusive to him.) I don't really have much tolerance for people who view Sirius as the person you describe and I don't engage with them.
But let's take a look at some definitions before we proceed.
1. The Marauders fandom. These days this is a term that hardly means anything, as it's been liberally adopted by anyone who focuses on any HP character who was alive sometime before Halloween 1981. Wolfstar shippers and Jilypad shippers, for instance, are two different groups with very little overlap, in my experience.
2. Sexualization. Sexualization means to reduce someone to their physical attractiveness and sexual potential and ignore their other qualities and characteristics. It does not mean being in a romantic relationship and/or having sex.
So, anon, I believe one of two things is what's at play here:
Possibility #1: You found yourself in some corner of the fandom that does sexualize Sirius. I don't know where that might be - I think even Wolfstar doesn't do that (it seems to me that they have the opposite problem these days, sexualizing Remus instead!). My main ship is Jily, though, and I find that overall people here have great appreciation for Sirius.
Come to the dark side. We have cookies biscuits, we appreciate Sirius as a friend to James and Lily (oh look, a whole fic fest dedicated to Sirius's friendship with Lily!), and while himbo Casanova Sirius used to be a popular trope in the mid-00s, I haven't seen it in fic since I got back into fandom two years ago.
(Disclaimer: There are always going to be thirsty fics. Prongsfoot, Lilypad and Jilypad, which I delve into, are not devoid of that either. And sometimes you just acknowledge that Sirius is one of the hottest characters in HP and just want to see him in action. Those fics are E-rated and usually pretty easy to avoid, and do not, in my experience, constitute the norm of how Sirius is treated within these fandoms.)
Possibility #2: You just don't like shippy fic at all; you want to read gen instead. That's completely valid, and I understand that completely non-shippy fic is hard to find. Especially with Jily being canon, so if you have to explore Sirius in a canon context there's probably going to at least be a side of Jily - that people always tag, because ships make or break fics for lots of readers, and it's recommended to tag for even minor presence or mention of a ship.
It does seem to me that the Marauders fandom now is more ship-focused than it used to be, I agree with you. I feel like gen fic back then was easier to find. I'd attribute that to a lot of us being older now and more interested in more "adult" situations, where some sort of romance is usually present, compared to the mostly teenaged fandom of 20 years ago that was more concerned with friendship and teenage shenanigans. But there are still people interested in Sirius and his non-romantic relationships with others - like those of us who wrote for Blackevans BFF fest (linked previously) and the people writing for @goodgodfathersiriusblack.
Bottomline: Do you want good quality Sirius content, or do you want Sirius content exactly how you want it? I can help with the first - stick around for posts, fics and recs. For the second, you'll have to be the change you want to see in the world.
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♡—DREAM was active on DreamFanartAcc! He liked:
and by morning
when the flowers that we’d grown together died of thirst
and now i see daylight, i only see daylight
He's the spotlight
Thank you for being my friend
Bro seriously carries 💪
always been there for me
almost forgot to post this lol. as promised, dream team SCP Foundation AU. i’ll do character pages eventually :D
wondering how long his hair has gotten
Needlepunched 💚
She's making biscuits as fast as she can !!
he deserves the biggest hug 💗🫶
Hello ppl! Trying out new techniques✍️😎 Thoughts?
polite
Can I put my trust in you? 💜🌌
Small little doodle of them in the snow :D 🫶🫶
the silly! 💚
our vacation…
✨Holiday Dream✨
Twitter died last night and I couldn't share all these lil guys
FANART REWIND TIME !! 🎉
legs
want this kind of merch
A blob?
[untitled]
more c!dream art act surprised!!
hi dream fanart
cafe doodling bc i miss him
happy holidays :)
Back to watch dsmp recently so I will draw more about it I guess 🫶
:') <3
because i'm
i miss him aaaaa🥲
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can i request one about any character. it's like the reader saying in the past they'll stop loving them when they fall out of love with the reader and in the present, they're looking at them having fun with someone else and says I don't think i love you anymore.. you can continue it if you'd like I don't know what to do to make it more interesting 😅 - k :]
IF I "I LOVE YOU" WAS A PROMISE, WOULD YOU BRRAK IT IF YOU'RE HONEST?
WARNING/S: GN READER, FALLING OUT OF LOVE, IGNORING, BROKEN PROMISES.
NOTE: HI! Sorry if it took awhile, I was gathering my thoughts for the fic and your ideas for these k anon are so GREAT. /sobs loudly at the idea
ANGST UNDER THE CUT
CW (CONTENT WARNING): IMPLIED BRONSEELE
Ever since she met you when you two we're still a child, the both of you became unseperable. She's always there for you, just like you we're there for her too.
You two made a promise, that whatever may happen you two will still be close to eachother.
Scraping for scraps for some pack of biscuits, begging together for a bucket of water to quench your thirst. You two we're fighting with your lives at a young age. But with her on your side since the very beginning, the problem seems to be less of a trouble.
Time had passed quickly, the pair no longer a child but an adult now. Both joining the wildfire, still being unseperable. You knew you have many unsaid feelings for seele.
You knew you can't just seal and shut off your raging feelings for your companion. Nervously making a simple, red cloth for the girl on your mind, then pouring your heart out to the letter being written on the slightly crumbled paper.
She, of course gladly and warmly accepted your sudden confession with a stuttering and flustered mess of her.
"My butterfly, I swear by my words that whenever the day comes that my love for you is long gone, I'll be sure to tell you. I'd rather tell the bitter truth to you than fool you, my seele."
She was taken aback about what you said, then lightly pushed you.
"THAT WOUDN'T HAPPEN! A-and.. I'll be sure I won't let that happen to me too. You have my word."
But of course, you really did took what you said for granted. But as for her..
Ever since the next to be supreme guardian, bronya, came to the underworld, you noticed her sudden changes towards you. She was becoming dry and sometimes unresponsive to your questions, her attention focused on the silver-haired woman.
That stare. You know that you we're the only one that she stares at like that. Well, looks like you're not the only one now..
"H-huh.. guess I was just your another temporary partner for your next then, my butterfly? Well then,.. I hope you have the most joyous time with your new found companion."
#senst#sensfiles#honkai star rail#seele x reader#seele x you#seele x y/n#seele vollerei#seele vollerei x reader#seele vollerei x you#seele vollerei x y/n#seele hsr x reader#seele hsr x you#seele hsr x y/n#seele honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x y/n#honkai star rail angst
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