#i like how the whole mystery of it all starts picking up
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ok top five scenes from the kung fu panda universe (any of the movies, shorts, shows, etc). could be fight scenes, character moments, etc etc so on and so forth
FERN THIS IS SO HARD. FOR ME. UHM !!!!
ESCAPE FROM GONGMEN TOWER please watch it right now please please it's such an underrated scene musically and visually. this is the scene where tigress catches a flaming arrow and that's the exact moment i became a homosexual. vic history. it's also the scene where we see her chops as a leader of the five and the way she's fit into this role to balance out Po so well. and also all her potential as who she could've been, if she'd been chosen to be the dragon warrior herself. but she's not.
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MUSICIAN'S VILLAGE I LOVE this scene the way it introduces, to the audience, that the score is going to play a part in the fight scenes of this movie is absolutely magnificent. and the way we get reintroduced to the furious five's + po's fighting style, and it reminds us immediately that they are formidable--and then sets up the inciting incident of the plot with so much mystery (and we see the 2d animation style again too, which has always represented po's inner subconscious. WHY DIDN'T THEY DO THAT FOR THE FOURTH MOVIE. whatever)
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i would say the bridge fight (kfp1) and i adore that scene but i have to say, i really love the performances, the ambience, the color boards, the sound effects, and the emotional impact of shifu and tai lung's fight in the 3rd act more. i love when kfp actually invested time in its non-main protag characters. tai lung was an absolutely fascinating villain and this scene just rounds out his character so well
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The entirety of the secrets of the scroll short film oh my god i love that one so much. teenage tigress. my baby girl.
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FUCK okay and then the fireworks factory (2nd movie) where Po confronts Shen about his past. And he gets shot with a cannon and Tigress doesn't get to him in time. breaks my heart every time. i'm going to include the scene where Tigress and Po fight right before that in the jail too bc the musical score called "Fireworks Factory" starts with THEIR HUG. AND IT ENDS WITH HER RUNNING TO CATCH HIM. AND FAILING. MY BAKA LIFE !!!!! i don't even ship them anymore like i did when i was 14 i mostly just love tigress but their platonic relationship is v important to me. i have to include their hug bc that did irreparable damage to me as a tween. sorry the quality of the first vid is so ass. their relationship in the entire 2nd movie is so good i could write a whole analysis on it probably. it's paining me physically to not include their earlier boat scene talk.
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this is also the scene where tigress snarls at the gorilla and that changed my brain chemistry forever.
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i love the entire second movie this is so hard for me AUGHHHGHGH okay quick honorary mention: i also love the scene where we see shen fight the three masters (rhino, croc, ox). that quick fight scene is SO well executed. the dialogue and the performances are incredible. i used to have every line of dialogue of this movie memorized and especially loved reciting this scene (skip to 1:10)
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and then if i had to pick a moment from the third one it's the one where oogway's statue gets wrecked at the jade palace. it lands emotionally very well for a scene that could have easily been mishandled too comedically or too quickly. like it still gives me chills. and i'm not even gonna touch on the character animation/acting of tigress and shifu here bc GOD. kai's theme does rock also!!! AND i LOVE the colors in this movie SO MUCH holy fuck
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and then a minor detail from the first one is i love how the characters act with each other, namely the five and shifu. they clearly have a history and/or comradery with each other. shifu undoing the nerve damage tai lung did in a way specific to each of his students stands out to me in particular.
1 and 2 are masterpieces to me and i have my Things about the 3rd one but overall, a beautiful trilogy. i wish the 4th one didn't exist im killing it with my bare hands. vic hate movie? vic murder it. 5th rule of the streets.
#you sly dog. you've got me monologuing#if u saw me listening to the soundtrack the whole time i answered this. yeah you did#star's asks#fernsnailz#kfp
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Gwynriel - 600 words - Just fluff
Inspired by the picture used in the title card, and a conversation with some friends on discord. I wish I remembered who was in that discussion so I could tag them specifically. Sorry guys 🥺
"It was a beautiful mystery, she thought as she gazed at him, how some people came together as intuitively as the laws of nature. Were such people born already belonging to each other, or..."
Gwyn pauses. She lifts the hand that isn't holding her book to cover her mouth as a yawn break from her lips. She turns the page and continues to read aloud, her hand going back to playing with the silky hair of the male who is holding one of her legs hostage.
"...or was it some gods who, after much observation, placed them on the same path? She had never truly unders..."
Her voice starts to come out a little slurred. Her eyelids droop. The words on the page start to merge, the c blending into the e, the same e that looks no different from an a. She yawns again.
Gwyn picks up the blue ribbon she uses as a bookmark from her lap and places it in between the pages before closing the book.
Her arms rise above her head as she stretches her body to get rid of the stiffness that has settled in after hours of sitting on this couch.
Azriel grumbles. He hugs her left leg tighter, preventing Gwyn from straightening it properly. She huffs and brings both of her hands to his head to push him away. But all pretence of annoyance is erased from her face when she looks down at him.
Gwyn can't stop herself from smiling at the sight of one of the scariest looking and broodiest male that she has ever known holding onto her leg like a child would their comfort blanket. His large body is turned on his side with one of his feet dangling off the end of the couch. His bare chest rises and fall with each slow breath he takes. There is a slight furrow to his brows, no doubt from Gwyn having apparently so rudely dared to interrupt his sleep.
She brushes away the few curls of his obsidian hair that have fallen on his forehead. The sound that rumbles out of him when her nails gently scrapes along his scalp is akin to the purr of a contented cat. Gwyn's whole body shake from her giggle despite her attempt to stifle it. Azriel grumbles again and tightens his hold on her. Any tighter and he will cut off the blood circulation in this leg.
"Can I move?" she asks with a light tug on his hair.
"No," Azriel mumbles, his deep voice barely audible. "You're stuck with me."
He nuzzles his face against her leg. One of his hands glides higher and stops at the seam of her sleeping shorts where his thumb starts caressing her skin.
She shakes her head. Of course she is stuck with him. She smiles. But there is no one else she would rather be stuck with.
Very slowly so as not to awake the grumbling sleeping beauty, she slides herself lower on the couch until she is mostly lying down and she can place her head on the armrest. She adjusts the few cushions she can reach beneath her head and at her sides. Gwyn sighs when she finally manages to get somewhat comfortable.
Unable to properly kiss him goodnight, she kisses her own fingers instead and lightly slaps them on the small part of his face that isn't buried between her leg and the cushion beneath it.
She picks her book back up and opens it again, intent on reading incomprehensible words until they put her to sleep. Her other hand returns to its rightful place in Azriel's hair. Tomorrow she will need to find a way to remind him that he is also stuck with her. She hopes that eternity won't be too much for him.
#Insomnia does wonders to my writing#At least I think#Idk#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#gwynriel fanfiction#drabble#gwyn x azriel#azriel x gwyn#fluff#Sorry if this makes you sleepy#Or you're welcome if it's time for you to sleep
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teen wolf s1 + timestamp roulette | 1x03: pack mentality - 3/12
#timestamp roulette#teenwolf#teenwolfedit#teenwolfgifs#twedit#scott mccall#jackson whittemore#derek hale#gifset#gif#my gifs#this is gotta be one of my favourite one of these ive done so far#anyway i love this ep#i like how the whole mystery of it all starts picking up#and then scott and derek just start chucking each other through walls lol
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I want to kiss you / キスしたい
G. Satoru
NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.
WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok
Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.
Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.
"Hi."
"Hi."
And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.
You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.
Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.
He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.
So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.
Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;
暑い。
It's hot.
There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.
Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.
Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.
One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.
キスしたい。
I want to kiss you.
He looks at you expectantly.
You type back to him.
Then kiss me.
それからキスして。
He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.
Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.
The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.
Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.
Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.
"It was your eyes for me." You said.
"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.
"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.
"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"
"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.
"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering the barrier and all."
"Ooh, did you?"
"How is this surprising? We're married??"
"Oh yeah."
#🗑️ — trash#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟#gojo#gojo satoru#fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x fem reader#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#satoru gojo
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It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?
Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.
Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.
"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.
Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.
Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.
"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"
Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"
The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."
Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"
Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"
Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."
"Billy."
"No last name?"
"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"
He had to give it to him. "Touché."
Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.
The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.
"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"
Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."
The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.
Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."
"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"
Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"
The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"
The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.
"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.
"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.
"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"
"Magic."
"I guessed that much."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it!"
"Okay," He paused. "No."
"Not fair." he pouted.
Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."
Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"
Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."
"Why not!"
"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."
"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.
Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."
Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"
The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.
"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."
Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."
"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"
Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"
He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."
Part 2 Part 4
(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)
Tag list: @zaiothe4th
#dp dc crossover#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc comics#dcu#dc#billy batson#shazam#ghost king danny#magic#coffee#cafe#I don't drink coffee#I don't even go to cafes#Idk if that's how it works#it is now#in this economy?#Hopefully#protection sigil#I made that up on the spot with very little research#If anyone draws it please tag me#Do we like where this is going?#part 3#Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant
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Saw a drawing of Steve and now I'm suddenly thinking about artist Eddie who designed the Hellfire shirts and Corroded Coffin fliers and who draws the villains of his D&D campaigns to slap onto his DM screen for visual aid and doodles in class and-
And i'm thinking about Steve, in a relationship with Nancy, trying to ignore that things are rocky but knowing it all the same. He finds a notebook left behind in school and he only takes it because he forgot his own. He plans to use it for the day and then figure out whose it is and get it back to them in exchange, that's probably more than fair, right? And the person is really gonna want this back - it looks like half their life is contained in this thing; there is... a shit ton of loose paper stuffed between the pages and notes on all kinds of subjects and drawings and.... he doesn't even know what that is. Who is Vecna and what the hell is a... lich?
Anyway as he leafs through it he finds that some of the drawings are... actually really good. Like, absurdly good for being in a lined notebook that looks like it has taken a trip into a dumpster and picked up some debris on the way out.
Like! Those hands! Steve has no artistic bone in his body but he's heard people whine about drawing hands and - he looks at the hand not holding the book and back again - yeah, that's exactly what hands look like! And here - a few pages further (it's one of the most empty pages of the whole thing, mostly because this one seems to have started as a drawing and not as a page of notes that turned into a drawing) there are only a few lines on the page but it's still very clearly the back of someone's neck, the collar, one shoulder.... Then there's another one that is almost all lines, but they were all carefully placed to give the effect of perfectly windswept hair. Then there's one that he actually can't make sense of at first (he almost pages past it because it is just a few lines and dots taking up a quarter of a page of very annoyed... history notes? Maybe English.) It's just a jawline with some moles but... only the day before he had cut himself shaving a finger's width underneath those exact moles. And that's when it clicks. He goes back to the hair... yeah that- that could be him too. Maybe. He flips back to that one very detailed drawing of hands and... putting down the book he tries to get his hands into the same position - the angle is off but. Yeah. That's why they looked so perfectly...! Uhhhh... Handsy! Because they're his fucking hands!
Anyway Steve realizes that about a third of the drawings are or could be him. He realizes that he actually can't go through with giving it back because - what would he even say? "Hey found your notebook, nice shrine to me?" Yeah no. But he's... also reluctant to take it to the Lost and Found. There's something in the handwriting.... He has a feeling that it might not be a girl secretly drawing him. What if someone else connects the dots? What if they confront the mystery artist about it? Flashbacks to his fight with Jonathan, the line he crossed and immediately regretted. He doesn't want to be the cause for someone else getting called that. And unrelated to that, things with Nancy aren't great right now and it's... it's just nice to think someone is paying attention, alright?
Then Halloween happens a few days after. The Break-up(?), the demodogs, Billy and the tunnels- and afterwards it's nice to have the notebook to distract him from the pain. The mundane mystery of a schoolmate maybe having a crush on him. He might not even have to confront them - he can just figure out a way to slip it into their locker; it looks like at least half their schoolwork is crammed into this thing, no matter how half-heartedly done. They definitely want this back.
Man, I wish I could actually write this thing. Damn. Maybe I could even do a scene where Steve tries to Sherlock Holmes his way to Mystery Artist and confronts a (hatefully seething) Robin, because she sits behind him in that one class, only to find his own Watson in her instead. But alas. It cannot be.
#as usual this is as good as it's gonna get#steddie#steddie season 2 au#steddie ficlet#hey i'm talkin' here#steddie fic prompt#steddie notfic
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I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU
✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+
tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]
masterlist
You’re not sure how it all started.
(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.)
You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown.
(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.
You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)
It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.
You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.
“Hello?”
(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon.
He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)
“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.
You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat.
It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times.
You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.
The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now.
(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)
He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.
Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”
“I want a kiss,” you told him again.
It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.
(That. That—)
You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."
(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)
You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.
There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.
You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air.
“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”
That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.
You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.
He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.
“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.
That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.
A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.
(That’s how you think it started.)
~~~~~
Everything’s fine.
Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.
Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble.
Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.
That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.
“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”
(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.
And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.
Normal.)
Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips.
“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.
Gojo already has acknowledged this, too.
“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants.
“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.
“Mhm.”
Oh.
You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”
Your breath hitches because, yes, you would.
That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.
You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.
It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.
Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.
It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday.
It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either.
Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar.
He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan.
“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.
Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs.
He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it.
Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—
The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair.
His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—
“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”
All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s.
“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”
Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.
(Because, of course, she knows.
And perhaps she’s not the only one.)
~~~~~
The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work.
(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)
You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.
A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant.
Hinata.
A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.
Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.
After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.
“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”
"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.
"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."
"It’s your assistant."
He frowns. “My assistant…?”
“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”
He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.
“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”
“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.”
“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.
He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.
“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”
“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.
“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."
It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.
Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.
“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”
It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.
“Then…stay.”
…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk fic
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pretty little dove — coriolanus snow ༘❀⋆
♡‧₊ warnings — nsfw, p in the v, pretty much no plot, unprotected sex, kinda dub-con(?), coryo being mean
♡‧₊ pairing — peacekeeper!coryo x fem!reader
♡‧₊ a/n — erm i'm still new to this whole warning stuff so lmk if i forgot stuff 😭
masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune
when coriolanus came to district 12, he had one goal in mind, to find lucy gray
but now that he was here and had seen lucy gray again, he realized he didn't much care for her anymore
his eyes were now set on you, a poor district girl who was just trying to steal some food to feed herself until he caught you
and you fled, checking every minute or so behind you to make sure the peacekeeper wasn't following you
and you didn't see anyone thank god, you didn't know that coriolanus had let you off the hook this time but he knew he was going to have you either way
what you didn't know is that over time, as you started getting mysterious packages with food, was that coriolanus had been watching you and memorizing your schedule
some might call it stalking, but to coryo, he was just watching out for you
who knows what could happen if he left you alone, what if some creep started stalking you?
you decided to cross the district line one day, after being told by lucy gray about how nice and peaceful it was
as you walked through the tall grass, picking up a flower and looking its pretty colors, it reminded you of the certain peacekeeper who had let you go that one day and how blue his eyes were
your happiness is cut short though, seeing a shadow fall over you and looking up to see that it was the certain peacekeeper
“you want to explain yourself sweetheart?” he said, crouching down so that he could be eye to with you
“i was just trying to have some peace, y'know the district isn't the best place?” you said, not scared of him, why should you be?
he chuckled, moving a piece of your hair and standing up
“i like you, but you know acting like that and crossing the district line is going to get you in trouble, hm?”
you stood up and smiled at him
“well i'm glad you were the one who caught me” you say, getting ready to leave before coriolanus kisses you hard, catching you off guard and quickly pulling away
“well i’ll see you later dove, don't let me catch you here again” he said with a smirk, and with that he left
you were stunned, unsure what that was, you had never realized that it could be possible that a peacekeeper could like a district girl
but hey there's always a first time for everything
just like being fucked for the first time, out in the forest against a tree by the same peacekeeper who had warned you not to cross the district line again
and of course you paid no heed to his words, why would you? it's not like he was going to personally hunt you down if you did
wrong.
you also thought that he didn't like you and just wanted to turn you in
also wrong.
he was currently kissing you hard, his tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands was rolling your nipple between his fingers, after he had ripped your thin shirt off
you cried at first when this all happened but then you felt his cock enter your soaking cunt you fell silent
this would be the first time you had ever been fucked before and it was obvious to coryo
“shit dove, loosen up for me will you? you’re so fucking tight, gripping me like a damn vice” he said, after getting his whole cock in while you kept clenching
you didn’t say a thing, you just tried to relax, but then he started moving at an unforgiving pace, breaching your cervix every so often as you gripped his shoulders, digging your nails through the fabric
your legs started shaking and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks and coryo noticed this, laughing as you continued to slam into you, chasing his release
he licked up your tears, reaching a hand between you two to rub your clit in order to make you come faster
coryo might not be the best man, but he’s willing to make sure you also get some pleasure through him (he just wants you to enjoy it so he can do it again later)
he fucks into you harder, kissing you over and over again to distract you from any pain or discomfort he might be causing you
you start to feel something building up and it scares you since you had never had the experience of being fucked by anyone, let alone someone like coryo
“oh my fucking god” you feel a knot snap as you come undone on his cock, your legs shaking even more as you cling onto to coryo for dear life
he holds you up, his touch is gentle which is quite opposite of how he fucking you and laughing at your reactions
“no more please” you say, feeling tired as coryo continued to slam into you, eliciting broken moans from you
his hips stutter and you feel something warm coat your insides, the color draining from your face as he pulls out, still holding you up and shoving his fingers in to make sure all of his cum stays in
you let out a moan as he does but he quickly takes his fingers out, shoving them in another hole, your mouth, making you taste his cum
“yeah…lick it up you dirty little slut, you gonna be mine now hm?”
#🎀 — fics#tom blyth#tom blyth fluff#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth smut#tom blyth imagine#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus x you#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#young coriolanus snow
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we just met
summary - you and harry make out in a club toilet
word count - ~500
pairing - stranger!harry x reader
🌷🌟💐✨🌷🌟💐✨🌷🌟💐✨🌷🌟💐✨
He kissed you like it was his last few moments alive.
He pushed you against the bathroom stall wall, putting his hands underneath your dress and hiking you up to sit against his hips with your weight supported by the wall.
“Fuck.” You groaned, pulling at the back of his hair as he trailed his wet kisses down across your jaw and leading to your neck.
He trailed his tongue over a small area, before biting your soft skin between his teeth - sucking and kissing it before repeating the process all over again.
How you got to making out with Harry Styles in a random bar toilet in London is still a mystery to you.
Harry groaned as he pushed himself further into you, allowing you to feel all of him against you.
Your head went back and hit the wall with a low thump, making your back arch and push into him more.
“Shit.” He hissed out, pulling away from your neck with messy lips and even messier hair.
“You’re so hot.” You couldn’t help but say.
Harry chuckled cockily, as if he knew exactly what you were talking about.
You dove straight back to his lips, tasting the red wine that he’d been all night on them. That’s why they were a darker shade of red too.
His followed his lips with yours, allowing you to lead for a few brief moments, before he pulled away to look at you.
His eyes were wild as they ran across your face and down to the top of your chest.
One of his hands carefully unhooked from around your body, but he still managed to keep you held up, and lifted to the necklace around your neck. Your whole body shook as his fingers touched your skin to pick the necklace up off your skin.
“Why a broken heart?” He asked, looking from the gem of the necklace to your eyes.
You shook your head, “It’ll kill the mood if I start talking so..” You moved your head to kiss him, but he leaned back so you missed him.
You pouted and he chuckled at how cute the sight was.
“You won’t kill the mood, I promise.”
“Yeah, right….”
He pushed into you further making you gasp and remember just at how hard the situation had made him.
His face was so close to yours as he spoke that your noses touched.
“Tell me,” He kissed you softly, “Please.”
“You’ve just met me.” You said in response.
“And yet I want to know everything about you.”
“Trust me, you d—.”
“Do. I do.” He kissed your lips again, like sealing a promise.
“We’re in a club toilet, Harry.” You whisper laughed, “At least let us talk somewhere a bit more decent and less… shitty.”
Harry chuckled at you then and you knew that was the laugh of a man you could trust to talk to - to let your heart open to - even if it was just for the night.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs
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No one knows where Sonic lives.
Even in his so called world renowed hero status, there’s way too little that the general public knows about Sonic The Hedgehog, sure, they know what his favorite food is, they know the names of his friends, and they know when his birthday is, but they don’t know where is he from, how is he so fast, or what is his reason to fight.
They know about most of the times he has saved the world, but they don’t know why his shoes don’t get burned by his speed, they know he can turn into a god-like glowy golden being, but they don’t know how exactly the magical jewels that do that work, they know he’s unstoppable, but they don’t know why.
Most people don’t care that much about that kind of information, even if he’s a hero, that’s his own business, even heroes need privacy; but then there’s the curiosity, the enigma, the mystery, most of those questions will be left without a solid answer, but there’s a few that should have definitive one.
Where does someone who can run around the whole globe in a matter of hours live? There’s a lot of theories.
Sonic has enough fame to have several fan clubs all around the world, and between all those fan clubs there’s been a lingering interest in the enigma of where does sonic live, between all the other questions this one is the one that gets the most possible answers, considering factors like his speed, his well known crave for adventure, his love for nature, all of it could make the difference between the right answer and the wrong answer.
At certain point, the curiosity reaches to more general public apart from the fanatism prone, and when in opportunity to talk to him, a lot of people start asking him the same question: “where do you live?” the answers all equal and all different at the same time “right here in the same world as you” “it varies from time to time” “I don’t think you could visit me”
The vagueness, the confusing contradictions, the evasion of the subject; he’s doing this on purpose. They might not know a lot about the blue speedster, but now this sole data needs to be known.
They start asking Sonic’s acquaintances instead of the hedgehog himself, they know they’re not getting an answer out of him at this point, and if anyone could have one, his friends should know it. Turns out that they don’t know.
Most of his friends being more annoyed with the fact that not even they know where he lives than about the people sticking their noses to his friend’s business was a surprise to the masses, and underwhelming, backtracking, frustrating surprise.
There’s an anonymous user online who affirms that not even the hedgehog’s arch nemesis knows where Sonic lives. Reliable sources support the statement.
The waters of nonsense gossip calm down after some time, but the question still remains, left to be more of general curiosity than lingering mystery.
A random day in a random town, a news program happens to be live outside when the speedster passes by and stops to smell the flowers around the area, the reporters ask him for a small interview, he says they have till he finishes picking up enough flowers for a crown.
They ask the same question everyone has asked for quite some time, just a different word, “Sonic, where is your home?”
Apparently the accidental rephrasing change is what finally gets it, as the speedster just says “right now? should be at mystic ruins”
He runs off immediately, the reporters left speechless, the program still on air on TV’s and the web, and the world going wild.
They finally got a straight, solid, specific answer. “That can’t be true” “but it can” “it’s logical” “it’s not” “he must’ve been joking” “he sounded serious” and more and more discussions take place around that single interview, the fan clubs are theorizing again, the general public is now more curious, and the official news from all over the globe need to confirm this by themselves.
So they ask again.
A full week later, a different city in a different country, different news reporters don’t even bother to ask him for an interview, they just run to him the moment they see the blue blur pass by and ask him again “Sonic, where is your home?!” He yells his answer without stopping:
“Last time I checked was in Central City”.
“It’s a contradiction” “then he was joking before” “he might change where he lives weekly” “we need more proof” “that was way too specific again”.
A different continent, two days later, a group of kids manage to record him when he greets them from the other side of a mountain, they ask “Where is your home?!” He yells back “I’m not sure at the moment!”
The confusion only grows, now no one knows if he’s genuinely giving true answers or full ass lying, it would be logical for him to do either. The curiosity becomes a mystery again, and people are legitimately trying to track all the locations he has mentioned to find out what is this all about. Some people even try to track him down. They try.
A whole month later, there’s a celebration near sunset city, a commemoration of some sorts, there’s been a lot of battles in way too little time so people just try to think about the party rather than the motive for it. Sonic attends the celebration along some of his friends.
A local news channel manages to reach him at the chili dog stand where he is waiting for his food while talking to the two tailed fox everyone knows is his best friend. They don’t mean to interrupt, but these opportunities are limited.
They ask the same question, the same word change that they know works: “Sonic, where is your home?”
The blue blur hangs an arm around the kit’s shoulder in a half hug as he grins widely, he says loudly: “right now, it’s right here!”
This time his home was with him.
#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#sonic and tails#unbreakable bond#they are cosmic truth#they are brothers your honor#home is where the heart is#Tails is Sonic’s home#wholesome sonic and tails wednesday#sonic headcanon#sonic fanfiction
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okay I watched good omens s2 yesterday with my partner, and I was genuinely very surprised -- I think if you've grown up through superwholock/merlin/the 100/teen wolf type shows where (with the exception periodically of doctor who) you kind of had to make up the good show that something could have been in your head, that colours a lot of your viewing, and to be honest I thought season 1 of good omens was a fine little piece, honoured the book while modernising it somewhat, it was a nice, fun, low stakes time, with a couple of things I might have wanted a tad different but nothing overall awful.
so I was seeing all this meta and gifsets and discussion, while I was waiting to give s2 a watch with my partner and thought "ah, people have made up the good show in their heads again" not that I assumed s2 was going to be a bad show, but that people were taking extra deep plunges into possibilities, the way fandom does, and that was fine. I knew there was a big ol kiss, I had a sense of some kind of argument at the end, and that it was setting up a s3
I also knew that mainstream reviews were calling it (politely) self-indulgent and dependent on whether or not you enjoy david tennant and michael sheen having a good time for just under 6 hours
all in all, expectations of a somewhat mainstream show without too much to think about, a nice, fun low stakes time, moving on...
(EDIT: AND THEN I WROTE A LOT OF WORDS SO YOU CAN IMAGINE THAT MY REACTION WAS QUITE DIFFERENT)
as it turns out it seems these things that were being written on tumblr were discussing the actual text of the show and not things you could extrapolate if you squinted and tilted your head a little to the left as I'm so used to doing, so in fact there is much to think about!
and my first thought was "this is like when you read early discworld books that ask a question like a joke, only to find that over time the answer to that question becomes very serious (and also can be funny at times of course)." how terry pratchett would pick and pick at tropes and notions and social ideas and go "oh now hold on, this seems strange..." starting way back when he thought it was odd that women warriors always seemed to be dressed in metal bikinis and then realising he hadn't done a good enough job of subverting the trope, simply by depicting it and calling it a bit silly
why do goblins always get treated as the villains? what's with this divine succession of kings business? where are the female dwarfs? who do we treat as disposable?
good omens season one went: "haha what if heaven and hell were intensely incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring of the work they did, and we took an angel and a demon and had them actually care? wouldn't that be... a bit silly?" (and it was)
good omens season two went: "what are the consequences for caring when the people who have power over you are incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring? what are the forces that supersede systems built on fear, ignorance, and violent conformity? can people change and break out of/challenge/break down these structures by caring?"
and this was set up with a neat little sleight of hand (to reference aziraphale's switch-and-bait in the episode with the nazi zombies), because the majority of season 2 does feel a bit indulgent: hey, remember those two wacky angel-and-demon characters? watch some more wacky things they did through the ages, watch them take a sojourn through 1827 Edinburgh and do a magic show during the Blitz, and... stop the death of Job's and Sitis' children (actually maybe that whole segment ought to have been what they call "A Clue")
see them try to figure out a kooky mystery, all the while setting up a cute little same-gender romance on their street. watch as everything points towards a happy ending that's all about the two of them realising what they've been to one another all these thousands and thousands (and thousands and thousands) of years- but hold on. lest we forget - and the show has made this point over and over - there are powerful people who control them, who hurt them, and who plan on hurting others, throughout the whole season, and as it turns out they know what they've been to one another for far far longer, and know how to pull their strings...
season 2 then, has to show us these things, not because they're indulgent (well, maybe occasionally, but the apology dance is still important), but because in order to make the ending a tragedy, we first need to understand, properly, the impact that they have had on each other. we need to understand that Aziraphale relied heavily on Crowley to be his moral compass and leaned on black-and-white thinking in order to deal with things, because if it's all grey then where does he fit and what has it all meant and heaven has to be the good guys, even as Job's and Sitis' children are ordered to be killed, it's all he ever had...
and Crowley was always an anchor, needed to trust that Aziraphale was different, needed to bend to every whim that Aziraphale has, because otherwise what's his worth in all this? After having been already deemed worthless by the heaven that Aziraphale needs to believe in?
and that, simplistically described, is the narrative that we're seeing in s2, and alongside that the ways that the changes they have upon each other are noticed, and monitored, and placed under suspicion, and finally... broken up, not by the clumsy, brute force that's been attempted over and over again, but by a promise to return into a violent, controlling system and to "make it better from within"
and all of this is wrapped up in two queer relationships + a third queered-within-the-text relationship that creates the inverse of how it ends for Aziraphale and Crowley (so far). queer love -- whatever shape that has -- is explicitly the shape of non-conformity within this narrative, including within the symbolism of angel-and-demon love of Gabriel and Beelzebub, which in the context of the systems created is considered queer (and one can argue till the cats come home about casting cis actors, about angel-and-demon notions of gender/romance/sexuality, but the "queerness" comes from building something non-conforming to the systems they exist in), and enforced by the explicitly our-world-definition-of queer romance that Nina and Maggie have going on (which, while less high stakes, still contains the background controlling relationship that Nina initially is in)
all of this to say, that I disagree that s2 meanders, or that plotlines happen for the sake of showcasing Aziraphale and Crowley without purpose, or that characters get sidelined (I'd say it sets up a whole host of interesting characters to further get into actually), or that it's strictly mainstream easy-access narrative that's just an excuse for the main creators and actors to get back together.
the love is the point, and this show takes its time to show the love (and the unequal boundary-setting, and the fact that one of them has an undiscussed tragic backstory, and the desperation to belong again, and the fear instilled by oppressive systems, and and and), so that we understand why those last 15 minutes happen the way that they do
it's sleight of hand, and like all good magic, you don't notice until it's happened
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how would you recommend watching doctor who? there are so many different guys idk how it works.
so the thing about doctor who is that there's two shows -- classic who (1963-1989, doctors 1-7) and new who (2005-2023, doctors 9-14). due to a renumber of the seasons and a change in production company, i think it's fair to call the upcoming version of who (2023-??, doctors 15-??) its own, third show. the reason it's been able to run for so long is that when the show's lead actor, (william hartnell as the titular doctor) had to step down in 1966 due to failing health, they made up some sci-fi bullshit: the doctor's species can 'regenerate' instead of dying, instantly healing but changing their appearance and some of their personality. this means that every time a lead actor has walked away (or, in one unfortuante case, been fired) the show's just recast the doctor and moved on, often with notable changes in tone and format.
the easiest option if you don't want to backwatch anything is to start with this year's christmas special, the church on ruby road (2023). it's an obvious jumping on point to the series, introduces you to all the basic stuff (the doctor, the TARDIS, the fact that it's a silly sci-fi show about fighting weird rubber prop critters), and presumably sets up the upcoming season 1 of the disney-bad wolf version of the show that's gonna come out in may 2024.
if you do want to backwatch, you have to decide if you want to start with new who or classic who. i personally would recommend starting with new who, because there's less of it, it's got higher production values, and (imo this is the biggest obstacle to getting into classic who) it's paced in a way that makes much more sense to a modern TV viewer (self-contained 45-minute episodes). also once you're invested in the show, its main character, and some of its classic elements, you get to soyjak at the screen whenever you're watching classic who and you get to see the oirign of a monster you already recognize. you can also skip classic who entirely and never watch it, they don't bring up anything from it in the new series without giving it a new explanation, but if you do this you hate fun.
anyway, starting points for nuwho: the most obvious one is rose (2005). it's the pilot episode for the new show and imo it holds up brilliantly -- it introduces all the most basic concepts of the show, but ultimately it's really all about billie piper and cristopher eccleston's performances and they deliver. the special effects are gonna be pretty terrible for a while because it's early 2000s cg. there's no jumping on point like it for the whole of RTD's run of the show (imo, the best run of nuwho) so if you want to watch seasons 1-4 you've gotta start on rose.
another episode that's written as a jumping on-point is (heavy sigh) the eleventh hour (2011). as well as introducing matt smith's doctor and his companion amy, this also does the whole rigamarole of introducing the show's core elements, giving a nutshell recap of its history in the form of the doctor's rooftop speech, and also signal what the oncoming moffat era is going to be like (whimsical, full of complex time travel plots, way more misogynist). i'm biased -- i'm a hater, one of this episode's central plot conceits sucks real bad and i also hate the eleventh doctor's whole run. but it is meant to be a jumping on point.
there won't be another one of those in nuwho until the pilot (2017). this begins moffat's final season with which he made the odd but extremely welcome decision to jettison all his convoluted continuity shit from the last five seasons and refocus the show with the doctor being a professor at bristol university with a mysterious secret. i think season 10 is a hidden gem and if you find starting from rose daunting this is the next best place to pick up. capaldi's doctor is a delightful abrasive eccentric with a heart of gold at this point in his run & the stories are wall-to-wall bangers with only a couple misses.
finally, you could start on the woman who fell to earth (2018), the first episode to feature jodie whittaker's 13th doctor and head writer chris chibnall. i'd recommend this even less than the eleventh hour, because while i actually like it more, i think it's a much worse preview of what the upcoming era is going to be like than that one. if you watch the woman who fell to earth and keep watching from the start of whittaker's run on the show off the back of it, you're going to be severely disappointed as most of the more promising aspects of the episode get instantly abandoned.
so, summary, if you're starting with nuwho, there's five jumping on points, which i'd rank:
rose > the pilot > the church on ruby road > the eleventh hour > the woman who fell to earth
but i want to start with classic who because i'm a contrarian
alright. classic who also has a few jumping off points -- before i mentioned them, let me just talk about that format thing i mentioned earlier. classic who doesn't have self-contained episodes for the most part, but rather for most of its run told each of its episodic narratives across between two and seven 20-minute episodes. this leads to a lot of weird pacing, forced cliffhangers, and infamously a lot of filler shots of the doctor running up and down identical corridors. so obvsies i'm recommending entire stories here nad not individual episodes. that said, let's look at where you could jump on:
an unearthly child (1963). this is, like, the start of the show. that said i don't recommend it as a place to start (funnily enough), for a couple reasons. firstly, because of dreadful fucking archiving by the BBC, a lot of episodes from the show's first six seasons are straight up missing. some of them have been animated by the BBC from surviving audio recordings, but some of them are just straight up lost -- due to the format, this means there's very few full complete stories, which makes this whole era really hard to navigate. if you don't mind that and really want to start in the black and white era, i'd still recommend the tomb of the cybermen (1967) instead -- hartnell's portrayal of the doctor as a haughty, slightly impish old professor is great, but troughton basically defined the character's core traits for the next sixty years.
spearhead from space (1970) is a pretty big format upheaval for the show and so serves as a pretty great classic jumping-on point. it's the first episode to be in colour, and sets up a new status quo for the doctor as being trapped on earth and working for an elite paramlitary organization called UNIT that operates out of a ratty office. it's an interesting premise that the show gets some great stories out of. the special effects are bad in the best way. pertwee has instant charm in the role and it's all around a banger by classic standards.
if you want to jump right to the one all the boomers are nostalgic for, you can also start with robot (1974). i wouldn't recommend it, though--tom baker is electric in the role from the start, but the episode itself kind of assumes a lot of the context of the third doctor's setup and supporting cast which you're not gonna have.
i wouldn't recommend anyone start at any point during the fifth or sixth doctors runs because i want them to actually like the show, so i guess the last jumping on point i could really recommend after robot would be, like, dragonfire (1987), which heralds the show's short-lived renaissance with the seventh doctor and his best companion, ace. but although you'd be watching some of the absolute best the classic show ever gets, it feels like it would be a weird and disorienting place to start.
finally, you could watch tales of the tardis (2023), a limited series produced to celebrate the show's 60th anniversary. each episode follows the same format: through a vaguely handwaved Palace of Memories plot, two much-aged characters from the classic series meet up and fondly remember one of the adventures they shared. the bookends with the original actors are mostly shameless fanservice, but the episodes they're reminiscing about are superbly edited down into a much more watchable format -- it works as a good 'sample platter' for most eras of the show (although, weirdly, there wasn't anything from tom baker's run!) and i think it honestly wouldn't be a bad shout to just start from tales of the tardis and then keep watching from whichever of the stories featured in it you liked most. that all said, if you want to start with classic who, i'd rank these jumping on points as follows:
spearhead from space > tales of the tardis > tomb of the cybermen > dragonfire > robot > an unearthly child
all that shit said it's fundamentally a very episodic show with very few exceptions like trial of a time lord and whatever moffat was doing seasons 6-7 so in the end you can basically just start with any episode and more or less get some of the idea. have fun and make sure to do the most important job of a doctor who fan, update the tardis wiki page for penis whenever one is mentioned
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Lewis Hamilton x rocket scientist!Reader - Social Media AU
yourusername
Liked by nasa_langley, mercedesamgf1, and 8,132 others
yourusername for nearly five years, i have had the opportunity to help mankind explore the cosmos and to combine the science of engineering with the mysteries of space. but now it is time for me to embark on my next adventure. i want to thank NASA and all of the amazing friends i made through work for the once-in-a-lifetime experience. keep an eye out for what’s next, the race is on
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nasa_langley it won’t be the same without you! all the best in your next chapter
yourbestfriend pretty offended that i’m learning about this through an instagram post
yourusername i’ve been sworn to secrecy until the official announcement but i promise that all will be revealed soon 🤐
mercedesamgf1
Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and 637,945 others
mercedesamgf1 Welcome to our new Technical Director!
We are delighted to announce that Y/N Y/L/N is coming onboard to take the lead on designing next season’s Mercedes-AMG F1 W15 E Performance. She joins the team from NASA, where she was the Director of Aerodynamics Research.
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silverarrowfan i don’t know how i feel about choosing someone with no experience working in f1 not to mention no motorsport experience whatsoever
mercdefender she literally designed rockets
silverarrowfan rockets aren’t formula 1 cars
mercdefender rockets are rockets and she’s one of the most renowned aerodynamicists in the world. the team desperately needed a designing shake up so that’s exactly what they’re getting
skysportsf1
Liked by womenofmotorsport, mercfansglobal, and 137,258 others
skysportsf1 Toto Wolff explains why he ventured outside the bounds of motorsport to find Mercedes’ new Technical Director
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yourusername adding “launcher of humans into space” to my resume as we speak
womenofmotorsport it’s only been five minutes since the announcement and i already love her
racinggrace i don’t get why some fans are upset. it’s not like toto picked a random stranger off the street, he poached one of NASA’s top engineers
formulazero exactly! she is the best of the best in her field and i’m confident that all the knowledge she applied to building rockets can be adapted to building a dominant f1 car
kymillman
Liked by paddockgirlie, formulafashion, and 81,429 others
kymillman GAME FACE ON
Mercedes’ newly appointed Technical Director Y/N Y/L/N looks stylish but stern as she joins the team for the first time at the Monaco Grand Prix. The aerodynamics engineer is on scene to meet with Mercedes drivers and staff and gather what data she can about the W14 to improve upon when designing the next generation. One thing is for certain, all eyes will be on the W15 to start the 2024 season.
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yourusername my RBF strikes again. i promise i don’t bite (most of the time)
formulafashion it’s honestly a serve. you have the whole untouchable woman in stem look perfected
paddockgirlie i have a feeling she’s going to be a fan favorite
formulafashion her and lewis alone will give mercedes more style than the rest of the teams combined
f1
Liked by lh44updates, mercedesamgf1, and 275,836 others
f1 What a difference a year can make!
Lewis Hamilton’s comments about his car before the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix in 2023 versus 2024 are night and day. With a win in Bahrain to start the season already under his belt and a car that has been able to outmatch the competition, will the stars continue to align for the seven-time World Champion?
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kartwheels it’s a miracle! what changed from last season?
mercedesf1updates y/n y/l/n
lightsoutmerc a new technical director behind the car design
yourusername mercedes hospitality added vegan brownies so now lewis is less grumpy. and yeah, i guess the car might have helped a little too
mercedesamgf1
Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and 692,351 others
mercedesamgf1 Dream team 👊
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mercedes4life george reading this like 👁️👄👁️
hamilfan lewis is straight up hogging her which is understandable since she gave him a proper car again after two seasons we would all rather forget
yourusername i wouldn’t say “hogging”
georgerussell63 i would. i’m 99% sure lewis trained roscoe to growl at me any time i get close to you
yourusername we invited you to join us for dinner
georgerussell63 and then forgot i existed so you drove away without me while i was in the restroom
yourusername we’re really sorry about that
georgerussell63 i had to call toto to pick me up because there were no cabs and the restaurant was an hour away from the hotel!
mercedesamgf1 please continue. it’s been a quiet day at work and admin is bored 🍿
greeneggsandhamilton we are not worthy 🛐
mercedesamgf1
Liked by lewishamilton, yourusername, and 701,849 others
mercedesamgf1 The hot lap everyone has been waiting for
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lewishamilton there’s a reason y/n is the engineer and i’m the driver
yourusername never again
lewishamilton i thought it was fun
yourusername of course you did. i’m just happy i managed a lap without crashing
sirlewis44 y/n looks terrified
yourusername i learned that i prefer to optimize g-force, not experience it
f1wagupdates
Liked by gridgossip, lewislover, and 54,238 others
f1wagupdates Y/N Y/L/N spent nearly the entire summer shutdown with Lewis Hamilton. The two attended numerous fashion shows and even enjoyed a week cruising around the French Riviera on a yacht together with a group of friends. They certainly seem a lot closer than coworkers. Are they just friends or something more?
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lewislover mercedes 🤝 iconic motorsport couples
gridgossip first toto and susie, now lewis and y/n? they’re simply too powerful
awaywego do you see that last photo? no way they’re not together when they’re practically drowning in each other’s eyes
yourusername
Liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, and 265,913 others
yourusername i could go on and on for days about lewis hamilton, the driver. how talented and determined and passionate he is. but anyone who has watched him race already knows that. so instead i want to talk about lewis hamilton, the man. lew, you are the strongest and most compassionate person i know and i know that you want to be remembered for that just as much as you want to be remembered for your accolades on the track. my heart is so full for you and the memories that we built together around the world. i love you more than i can put into words
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lewishamilton you push me to be a better driver and, more importantly, a better person. every struggle and obstacle was worth it because they led us to each other
timetogoporpoising i’m so happy for you guys
timetogoporpoising on a totally unrelated note, i’m going to go cry and eat an entire tub of ice cream
mercedesamgf1 admin can relate. seeing them completely in love tends to have that effect on anyone around them
lewishamilton
Liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1, and 1,947,628 others
lewishamilton another world drivers’ championship on my shelf and another world constructors’ championship for the team, and it’s all thanks to this incredible woman right here. she has a tendency to praise everyone except herself but despite how humble she is, this was only possible because of her. there were times just last season when i feared this day would never come but one announcement about her hire during a team meeting changed that all and y/n stormed into our lives like an avenging angel ready to drag us back to glory. i love you so much, baby. let’s run it back next season
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yourusername you + me + the W16 = #9 🏆
georgerussell63 + george
yourusername our favorite third wheel
mercedesamgf1 still hungry for more 🙌
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#social media au#lewis hamilton#instagram au#instagram imagine#lh44#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton blurb#mercedes amg f1#f1 instagram au#instagram edit#f1 blurb#fake instagram#f1 fandom#f1 fluff#formula 1#insta edit#f1blr
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silk chiffon (that’s how it feels) ; ellie williams
pairing gf!ellie x female!reader
synopsis ellie decides to take you out for the day after being gone with jesse on patrol. you decide to wear a new dress you bought during ellie’s absence, and it quickly becomes her new favorite thing.
genre lots and lots of fluff, reader is described wearing a dress and called “pretty girl”, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, inspired loosely by silk chiffon by muna.
wc 2.0k
you sat on ellie’s messy bed, awaiting her arrival, toying with the hem of your dress. ellie had told you the morning before she left that when she got back, she would do something “special” with you. that’s all that was said—no details or clues as to what your auburn-haired girlfriend had in mind for you.
you just hoped the dress you picked this morning was appropriate for her plan. the silk fabric instantly caught your eye when you saw it and also reminded you of something ellie would like, hence why you bought it for today.
she always liked seeing you dolled up in a pretty dress or floral skirt, especially when it was for her.
the click of the front doorknob of ellie’s place snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes meeting ellie’s as she dropped her backpack to the ground. you immediately filled with giddiness in her presence, quickly making your way over to embrace her in a tight hug.
“i missed you, pretty girl." you could feel ellie’s lips mumbling against your bare neck. your skin bursts into goosebumps at the feeling of her soft skin on yours. “i missed you too, els." you replied, pulling back to look at her.
her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, which sat right above her neck. the shorter pieces that couldn’t make it in framed her face perfectly.
she was clad in her beat-up converse and white socks, which peaked just above the black canvas. on top, she wore her white “wife pleaser” (as you liked to call it, which made her laugh every time) with a green short-sleeve button up left open over it.
“you look so pretty, els," you complimented, fighting the urge to kiss her face off. she grew sheepish as you played with the buttons on her shirt. “says you, is this new?”
she tugged at the fabric resting on your waist, feeling the fabric for any familiarity. “yes, actually, i bought it with you in mind,” you teased, nails softly raking up her tatted arm, which still rested on your waist.
“did you now?” she smirked, pulling you flush against her. ellie’s hands held a firm grip on your waist while her hips bumped against yours.
“mhmm…” you leaned in, slowly looking between her lips and eyes. ellie couldn’t take the distance anymore; dipping her head down, she connected your lips in a much-needed kiss.
sure, she had only been gone for a couple days, but it felt like a millennium. the absence left you alone to quite literally do nothing; always having ellie there to pester you and hang onto started to feel like a curse.
ellie pulled away before things were able to get too heated, making you whine as she stepped back and squatted to pull something out of her backpack.
she sifted through the wads of paper and various supplies she needed when on patrol before pulling out a container. “what’s that?” you question, not able to see what the mysterious box contained.
“just a few things for our date,” she said, setting the container down before grabbing her journal, a pencil, and reaching in her bag once again to pull out a quilted cloth large enough for the two of you to lay on.
you smirked, feeling so giddy over the fact that your girlfriend had thought out a whole plan to spend the day with you. she was always very considerate and made the smallest things have the biggest impact on you, but something about the way she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face made it even harder for you to get rid of yours.
“okay, pretty girl, let’s get going while the sun is still out.” she hoisted the items under her arm, shooing you away while you tried to hold at least one thing. her free hand brushed against yours as the two of you exited her place, fingers interlocking.
“just follow me.”
“els, this is so beautiful.” you were in awe of the scene ahead of you. planes of grass and various flowers were littered under you, while a small lake sparkled from the sunlight ahead of you.
“knew you’d like it,” she mentally congratulated herself, seeing your expression. she had found this hidden gem while out with dina and knew she had to bring you here as soon as possible. so that’s exactly what she did.
you turned away from the view to face your girlfriend, who was laying out the blanket she brought. you watched as she smoothed out the fabric, stretching it out to its fullest degree so that the two of you could lay comfortably. it’s the littlest things she does that make you swoon.
“god, els, you’re the most amazing person ever,” you practically squealed, ignoring the fact you had a short dress on, and tackled her to the ground. she fell back with a tiny “oomf” before her hands came to hold you above herself. you wasted no time, littering her face with many kisses. you felt the way her cheeks bunched up with a smile as your lips pressed delicately against her pretty face.
rubbing her palm against the back of your thighs, ellie noticed how your dress rose up from your move on her. “forget something?” she teased, yanking your dress back down to cover your butt and thighs.
you flushed when you felt her hand creep up far higher than it needed to in order to fix your dress. “you forget we are in public?” you quipped back, grabbing her eager hand to rest it on your back. “no one’s around for miles…” her words dragged on while her hand made its way back down your back to rest just above the edge of your dress.
“i don’t feel like scarring a poor bird for the rest of its life,” you joked, bringing a hand up to brush the lingering strands of her short hair out of her face. ellie continued her ministrations, trailing her fingers between your thighs and letting her blunt nails softly scratch your skin. “i think it would be blessed, don’t you?”
you swore your eyes nearly got stuck from how hard you rolled them. “ellie, seriously? we aren’t fucking in the wilderness." your tone shifted from lighthearted to stern, making her face fall into an annoyed pout. "well, how do you expect me to act when I haven’t seen you in years-“
yeah, your eyes were gonna get stuck, alright.
“els…” you leaned your head against your palm, knowing she was far from done with her whining. “and you wore this, and you thought of me when you bought it. you’re driving me crazy,” she finished, resting the back of her palm against her head as if she were truly exasperated. as if you were truly driving her insane.
you giggled at her dramatics. “geez els, if i knew a dress would get you all worked up, i would have bought it in every single color.” you sat up, fully straightening your arm to peer down at ellie, who peered one of her eyes open to glare at you.
“don’t move.” she now fully opened her eyes, making you freeze. did you have something on your face? was there a grizzly bear behind you?
you froze, shrinking under ellie’s hard gaze. after a few seconds, her concentrated expression morphed into a smile. "okay, perfect,” she finalized, and laid back down. “what was that?” you were completely confused. sure, ellie was a little weird sometimes, but this was so strange.
“you just looked so pretty, i had to get a mental image so i could sketch you later.” she spoke nonchalantly as she tilted her face, closing her eyes to face the sun. most of the time, you would have some snarky rebuttal to start her off, but this time you were left speechless.
ellie was beautiful—the most beautiful girl you had ever seen. her dark brows that somehow stayed perfect even if she neglected to groom them, her dark green eyes that always knew how to calm you from just a glance, her freckles that were more dense at her cheeks but scattered all across her body in places you had graciously had the ability to see, the list could go on and on.
the sun shining on her acted as a spotlight, putting every flower or lake to shame in her presence.
ellie felt your silence, opening her eyes slowly, only to find you staring at her. “now you’re the one acting weird,” she joked while your lips softly pulled into a small smile. you were completely enamored by her.
“you’re so beautiful, ellie. the prettiest girl in the world.” the words spilled out without any thought, making her blush immediately. you had caught her so off guard that she didn’t know what to do. usually, she was the one making you a puddle beneath her while she upheld an unbothered facade. of course, you were the one and only person to break that wall down.
she didn’t even respond, swiftly pulling you flush against her again and kissing you with so much passion that it made your head spin. the two of you couldn’t bite back your smiles, resulting in your teeth clanking and the kiss growing messy, but you couldn’t care less.
her soft hands molded you into nothing but a lovesick mess above her while your hands brushed past her button-up and under her tank to feel her smooth skin just above her shorts. your faces tilted every so often, making the kiss deeper and deeper.
your hand traveled higher under her shirt while hers edged the line between your dress and thigh. “my perfect girl in this pretty little dress, all for me,” she said between kisses, making you turn even more red (if that was even possible).
you visibly grew more and more needy as ellie grabbed and groped at your body. “thought you didn’t wanna ruin some birdie's life?” she teased, pulling away harshly as she felt your fingers creep a little too high to the “point of no return”.
“shut up,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed by how needy you grew from just her kissing you alone. she was now the one laughing at you for your childlike antics, reaching up to press a quick kiss to your pink cheeks.
“let’s eat before these go to waste,” she sat up to grab the forgotten container left by her discarded journal. “so that’s what was in here,” you smiled as she handed you the food she had prepared earlier that morning, telling you about how it was nearly scrapped in a food fight with jesse. him teasing her for being such a “loser” when it came to you.
“well… he wasn’t lying,” you bit into your food to conceal your smirk. “i’ll throw you into that lake,” she warned, trying her best to seem demanding. you just sighed, placing your food down to lean closer to her to whisper as if it were one big secret: “but you would like that too much, would you?” she choked at your suggestive comment, pushing you away as you tried to tease her even more.
the two of you continued going back and forth, just enjoying the peaceful time the two of you had together, which tended to run thin most days. due to ellie being needed on patrols more often and you being needed all around for tedious jobs, the most time you and ellie ever got together was when you slept. obstacles aside, the two of you were still able to make days like these happen. no jesse, dina, or joel, just the two of you.
that night, as you entered ellie’s bedroom to get ready for bed, you noticed her journal laid open on her desk. looking closer, you nearly burst into tears at the sight. under a few random doodles and notes, looking back at you was a detailed sketch of you in your dress from earlier that day. under it was a small note:
her silk dress dancing in the wind; watched it brush against her skin. makes me wanna try her on. she’s so soft, like silk chiffon.
notes this is one of my favorite songs of all. time. highly recommend the recorded at electric lady version (naomi’s verses AHHHHH) to listen to while you read :))) thank you so much for all the love on my first ellie post! it means the world!
tags @ang3licpretty @endureher @boobdrug @the-record @drewmclaughlin @keaton2003 @mrsromanoff @muthafuckingstargirl (if your name is crossed out tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!!)
#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams au#ellie williams x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x you#wlw#lesbian#wlw post#wlw scenarios
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Second Chances Are For Winners
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
WC: 2.7k
TW: Swearing, teasings, blood, abduction, breaking and entering, Criminal Minds General list of triggers apply here.
A/N: Hiya gang! so actually I have been so unmotivated to write and I just got back from vacation so I promise I will finish up VDVE soon. But please enjoy this mouth vomit that Just came out of my mind. It's a part one since the rest of it is mapped out, just not written! (also why is like every other gif his mouth moving. This man really just doesn't stfu and it's only hot on him)
Spencer Reid being overwhelmed was an understatement. He needed to get out of that police station as soon as physically possible. JJ confronting him about his hostility towards her had not gone the way she had hoped it would, and Spencer was once again, fuming.
The Oklahoma heat was not kind to someone who only wore sweater vests, a fact in which he would later start to reconsider when planning his outfits to places where the heat had personal vendettas against the living. As soon as he stepped outside, it was like he was met with a brick wall of temperatures well over what they should be. As the sweat dripped down his forehead, so did the tension. He took a couple of breaths before picking up the phone and dialing a number he knew all too well.
“Speak and be heard, Wonder Boy”
“Hey Garcia,” A small smile formed from hearing the familiar voice. “I need you to look up someone, and find their cell number for me, if that’s okay.”
He could hear Garcia roll across her ‘batcave’, “Hit me.”
“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N…”
“Give me two seconds…..Isn’t she—”
“Garcia, please.”
He could hear the smirk forming across her face as her fingers flew across the keys.
“You’re looking up more than her number…”
“One point for Boy Genius everybody. Yes, I’m looking up more than just her phone number. She’s the gorgeous mystery woman who kissed your cheek in front of the whole team—of course I’m going to look her up now that I have her name.”
Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, starting to regret the decision to call Penelope in the first place. “Can you just send me her number and snoop around later Garcia?”
“Fine Genius.” His phone beeped. “Just sent it to you.”
“Thank you Penelope.”
“Anytime Boy Wonder.” Reid hung up the call before looking at the screen, opening the text Garcia had sent him. He smiled at the number, and almost dialed before thinking better of it. Maybe after the case, he’ll call you and take you out for lunch to catch up. But it’s nothing more, Spencer decided. You probably didn’t feel the same way, but at least he knew that there was someone who wasn’t a part of the team in which he could finally vent his frustrations to. Now he’ll finally be able to get an objective view on the whole Emily situation.
Spencer looked at the file in his hand and sighed, opening it up. As he was reading through it for the umpteenth time, something occurred to him, and he quickly made his way back into the station, and towards his team.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Once the jet touched down in DC, Spencer was the first one off the plane. He walked through the hanger, and towards his car. He could feel the others watching him, especially Emily, but his mind was elsewhere.
He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, dialing the number Garcia had sent.
“Y/L/N and Associates, how may I help you today?”
Spencer didn’t even try to bite back the smile before he cleared his throat, reaching into his back pocket to grab his keys.
“Hi, yes, I was wondering if I could speak with Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Sure, let me make sure she’s available. Her meeting should be ending soon. Can I ask what this is for?”
Spencer pursed his lips before answering. “She, uh, just told me to call this number.”
He heard the person on the other end shuffle something around before answering, “Good enough for me.” They hummed. “Can I just get a name?”
“Yeah–uh, Spencer–Spencer Reid.”
“Give me one moment Mr. Reid” was all he heard before he was put on hold. He sighed and entered his car, chucking his go-bag into the passenger seat. As Spencer turned on the car, he heard your voice.
“Spencer?”
His face lit up, and a smile graced his features.
“Hey! Yeah. Um” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hi.”
She laughed. “I knew you’d find me eventually, Doctor, but a whole week? I feel that maybe your profiling skills need a bit of sharpening.”
“Well–I was, I was working on cases. I-I didn’t forget—”
You cut him off, voice softer than he remembered. “I’m just teasing Spencer. So what do I owe the absolute pleasure of having Doctor Spencer Reid grace my line.”
“Well, I was hoping you’d give me your cell number so I don’t have to annoy your secretary…”
You were silent for a moment. “Well my number is going to cost you something.”
“Y-Yeah absolutely.” Answered a bit too quickly, almost out of breath.
“I expect a meal sometime soon, and maybe throw in coffee one of these mornings as well.”
Spencer smiled so brightly he almost couldn’t see the road as he was driving.
“I-I, um, think that’s something I can do.”
He heard you hum in agreement.
“What about tomorrow night?”
Spencer paused.
“I–...I actually can’t do tomorrow night, I have a team meeting, but what about breakfast the next morning?”
He heard you shuffling papers around and a bit of typing on the keyboard before you answered him. “Seems like I’m all yours Doctor.”
Reid smiled and parked his car outside of his apartment.
“Then you’ll have to give me your cell phone’s number and it’s a sealed deal.”
“Are you usually this good at negotiations? Should I start prepping my list of demands for breakfast…” You joked, letting out a small laugh.
Spencer shook his head before he realized you couldn’t see him. “N-No, well yes actually. It’s a part of the whole FBI thing.”
You laughed at his joke before giving him your cell number. “I’ll see you soon Spencer. Bye.”
As you hung up the phone, Spencer sent a quick “hey!” text before getting out of the car and heading up to his apartment. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a tense week after all.
______________________________________________________________________________
The Team isn’t stupid. They’ve noticed that Spencer was somehow in a better mood when he arrived at the office the next morning, despite the way he basically ran away from the jet. They also noticed he was spending a lot more time on his phone than before, especially since Spencer was not the one to text.
As Spencer dumped his sugar into his coffee mug, Derek came up next to him and started to prepare his own coffee.
“Wanna tell me why you’re in such a good mood Pretty Boy?”
Spencer pondered the offer for a moment before putting the sugar back on the counter, next to the coffee pot. “Nope.” and he walked back towards his desk.
Derek was taken back a little bit, but finished his coffee. He made eye contact with Emily and shrugged.
Emily was next, since her desk was next to Spencer’s.
“Morning Spence…”
“Morning Emily.” He quickly replied, and even flashed her a quick smile before his phone lit up and his attention was taken away from her. He sent a quick text, before placing his phone face down and started looking through his files to find the right paperwork to finish the consultation he had started before they left for Oklahoma.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”
“Nope.” Spencer replied yet again, and now that Derek was back, he watched the same look pass through Emily’s face before she looked at Derek.
Derek decided he was going to try a different tactic this time. “Hey Reid, wanna tell me who you're texting there man?”
Derek’s face lit up like a Christmas Tree not even a moment later when Spencer ignored his question.
“Is it…oh what was her name…”
“Ohhhh,” Emily joined in, “It’s the lawyer from last week…”
Spencer just shrugged and tried to stay focused on the paper in front of him, yet all he had been doing for the past minute was rereading the same line over and over because all he could think about was when you were going to answer his text.
“The lawyer, right right…” Derek smirked and looked at Emily, both knowing they hit the jackpot. “Wasn’t her name…Y/N?”
At the mention of your name, Spencer made the mistake of sitting up a bit straighter, which both profilers noticed instantly.
“Oh so Y/N has been texting you all morning huh. Is that why you raced off of the jet last night? Couldn’t wait to go see he–”
“No.” Spencer cut off Derek, looking up at the pair. “I haven’t seen her since last week’s case. Now if the two of you wouldn’t mind leaving me alone I have a lot of paperwork I need to make it through before I head home tonight.” He turned back to the file in front of him and tried to read it again. And again. And again. Eventually, Spencer was able to continue his work once Derek and Emily let him be.
But anytime his phone buzzed, he could feel the smirks from his friends, he just didn’t care.
__________________________________________________________________________
You were so over your entire day. Every single one of your active clients decided that they had an issue that needed to be resolved in the second they called you.
So when you woke up, face leaving a print against the wood of your desk, you let out a groan.
The little clock in the corner of your laptop's screen flashed the time, causing you to let out a string of curses.
“I cant fucking believe it’s 2 am. Fuck.” You grumbled, standing up and stretching your arms over your head.
Your phone screen lit up with a notification, which also showed that you had missed a few text messages from your favorite profilers. The last one was a, correct, guess that you had fallen asleep at your desk. You smiled and responded with:
Do you ever get tired of being right all the time Doctor Reid?
As you packed up your things, your phone buzzed.
Not really. It’s just in my nature.
You laughed out loud a bit, shaking your head.
And why are you still awake?
That’s when your phone rang. You held it in your hand, staring at it for a moment, before remembering to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Did you even check caller ID or are you trying to encourage stalkers?” Spencer’s voice rang through your body as you let out another laugh, placing the phone between your shoulder and your ear, packing up the rest of your things.
“Well Spencer, I seriously can’t think of another person to call me at this hour besides you…; and maybe this Baby Daddy who won’t leave me alone.” You grumbled, shoving your laptop into your bag with a little extra force than normal.
“Baby daddy?”
“Yeah, one of my clients, he’s a sweet guy—great dad. But because he’s so worried about his daughter having any sort of parenting time, he’s been calling me nonstop, freaking out about supervised visits. Like, I get it, but it’s fucking 2 am and I stop working at 5, maybe 6 the latest.
You heard Spencer hum in response, but no words. “Spencer?”
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Ye-yeah, I uh–”
“Did…Did you think I was talking about someone I had a kid with?”
Spencer sputtered out a “n-no, why–why would…”
You let out another laugh, that was like music to his ears. “Spencer, I feel like you should have figured that out from the way that you clearly used the FBI to look up my office number to get my cell number. You would’ve found out if I had kids.”
“Y-Yeah I guess…”
“Give me one second Spencer.” and before he could respond, you put your phone down, and pulled out your airpods, letting them connect to your phone so you could go hands free.
“Can you hear me?” You placed your phone in your skirt pocket, adjusting your airpods so that they would be comfortable.
“Yeah? Is everything okay?”
“I just had to put my headphones on, I need my hands.” You slid on your heels, and walked out of your office locking the door. “Tell me about your day Spencer, I have to walk around and lock up.”
Spencer hummed again and looked up at his ceiling. He had been sitting in his apartment, trying to read, waiting for you to answer his text–partially because he thought the worst, but mostly because he couldn't stop thinking about you.
“Well. Not much happened. I was at work, and was trying to finish a report for this case I’m consulting on by sending them a preliminary profile, and then Derek was up my ass all day.”
“What about?” You asked, placing your bag on the floor near the office, going to check the rest of the offices to make sure no one was still there.
“Oh, um, well…”
You laughed again, causing his chest to swell again. “So it was me.” You teased me. “Excited to talk to me?”
You could feel Spencer turning redder and redder as the moments went on.
After a brief pause, Spencer responded to you. “And what if I am?”
It was your turn to blush, but it only made you feel a bit bolder.
“Getting a bit flirtatious, Spence. This is not the Reid I once knew from all those years ago.”
You could hear Spencer laugh.
“You sound tired. Why don’t you get some rest Spencer.”
Spencer sat up straighter. “No. I’ll stay on the phone with you—” He interrupted himself with a yawn. “Until you get home. What kind of agent would I be letting you walk home alone at this hour.”
“I’m not going to stop you, but if you fall asleep….I’m hanging up.”
“Fine—Just text me when you get home?”
You hummed and nodded. “Can do sweetheart. Night Spencer.”
“Night Y/n”
You hung up the phone and turned on your spotify, listening to some music that would make this fifteen minute walk bearable. You usually drive into work, but it had been such a nice day, and you usually don’t mind getting in the extra walk since you sit behind a desk all day.
You paused before you exited the first set of doors—part of you felt like you should just go back upstairs and sleep in your office. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it would provide a certain agent with a lot more comfort knowing you’re somewhere safe.
But then you thought about your bed, and the new sheets you put on the night before, and the weighted blanket spread out across the bed spread, and you realized you’d much rather sleep under that than on a stale couch without even a pillow.
You managed to make a fifteen minute walk into a ten one. Speeding home at 2 am was not exactly what you wanted to do, but you’d rather that then the couch. You quickly unlocked the front door and made it up the stairs and into your apartment.
You sent Spencer a quick text saying that you had arrived home, and immediately moved into your bedroom.
The apartment was a small one bed, one bath. It would have been considered a studio if not for the door between your bedroom and the kitchen/living room/entrance/dining room. Your bedroom was quite small, with a skinny closet, a dresser, and your bed. You had gotten lucky enough to shove your bed against one wall, and create a reading nook in the turret window on the other side of the room, which was only about ten feet away, but still.
You kicked off your shoes, and made your way into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and listening to whatever music spotify had decided to play for you.
You took off your outfit for the day and pulled on your pajamas, which felt so good against your skin as you slid into your bed, and shut the lights off.
You wished you took the first option when two minutes later, you heard your bedroom door creak open, and a voice tell you not to scream.
To Be Continued...
________________________________________________________
#x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x reader angst#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#Spencer reid x y/n angst#Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader#spencer reid masterlist#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#Spencer reid imagine#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid fic#Spencer reid x reader fic
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sunspent
summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.
notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3
tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader
word count: 2542
The whole day had been perfect.
You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck.
The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much.
Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you.
The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you.
It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms.
“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”
You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight.
“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)
“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig.
“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty.
“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”
“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.
“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”
You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist.
“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean.
You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer.
“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser.
“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever.
“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face.
“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him.
“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”
He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make.
“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders.
“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”
“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man.
“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down.
This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes.
Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps.
“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes.
“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it.
“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.
“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close.
“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side.
He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way.
“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish.
He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately.
His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it.
His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again.
“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”
You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit.
“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt.
“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could— but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be.
“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree.
You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no.
Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth.
“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”
“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins.
This time you can and do roll your eyes.
“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”
Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly.
“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild.
“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”
“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick.
He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist.
You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly.
It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.
His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken.
Exactly what you’d imagined.
“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips.
His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips.
You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride.
It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work.
You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work.
“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours.
You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek.
The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time.
“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark.
He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you.
You know you’ll have bruises there.
You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.
Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting.
At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much.
Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood.
“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body.
His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling.
“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath.
He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god.
The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there.
He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill.
“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat.
“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat.
Yeah, drive-up it is.
#obx#obx 3#obx 3 spoilers#rafe cameron#obx fanfic#obx smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#obx x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine
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