#and i appreciate you stopping by my friend !

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[subjectsix]

Very genuinely I appreciate all the people offering fixes (I really mean this, I hope it helps people finding this post and its showed me a few more Windows debloat options).

At the same time, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m sick of workarounds for something that never needed workarounds. Things that should be basic features on hardware you own. I even have a Linux machine with a Mint distro on it and have been messing around with it, but switching to Linux shouldn’t have to be the answer.

So many people are pointing out that they have to use a personal smartphone for work or for banking. I needed one to get the app to buzz in my office building’s locked door.

Things that should be tools (AI, photo editors, software on computers) have been weaponized against users. Social media is homogenized and difficult to truly personalize or control. Everything wants your phone number. Google asked me to add my home address to my email. Cars don’t come with knobs, but touch screens. It’s harder and harder to buy appliances that aren’t connected to wifi.

I am unbelievably grateful for those that have workarounds— who make programmers to strip bloatware, reprogram OSes for things like iPods and the Car Thing, who program raspberry pis to block ads, make forums and browser games and communities online as alternatives. We have gotta keep doing it. It can’t be about quick fixes and begrudging compromises anymore. Not everyone can ditch their smartphone or use Linux. But we can not shut up about stupid crap and make changes ourselves.

I don’t mean that to sound like a wearying call to action demanding you stop talking to that friend you only have contact with on Facebook, etc. But I do think it’s good to evaluate what you’re willing to put up with on your computer and what you can change for your own personal benefit, just like you should be able to do in the first place. And to not shut up and make your distaste for crap features known.

In the wise words of the angry guy in the Windows support forum:

I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.

I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.

Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.

I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.

I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.

Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.

I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.

My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.

I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?

No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!

[yuvany]

LIKE THE DAY MEETS NIGHT (NRK - 西村力)

💿 ─── nishimura riki (enhypen) x 𝒇 ! reader ┊ fluff + mentions of a fight + hints of gossip ┊ school ! au 𝐰𝐜: 800

reblogs + feedback always appreciated !!

The contrast of your cool palm against his warm and aching face felt like a delight he could only dare to experience once in his life time. Maybe hurting himself in the process of saving your name was worth it, knowing that you were safe and sound was all Riki wanted to acknowledge.

All he wondered was why you didn't care about what people said about you. Their words seemed to hurt him more than they hurt you, and so he made it his mission to take care of those people, but he didn't know why. Something about you just felt as if it needed protection - something unspoken and something he wished to uncover, and sure, it might sound bad coming from his end, but he'd never deny helping someone kind and pretty. — (more under the cut)

Looking at you right now, you seemed calm and unbothered, only worried about his current predicament that covered him in bruises and roughed up knuckles. "What got you so worked up." You clicked your tounge at him, letting your fingers graze his red and swollen knuckles that he used to beat people up with. You knew this, everyone from a distance would notice the evidence that he was fighter and not a lover, but you didn't question him. While the only thing Riki could focus on was the soft skin of your hand against the roughness of his, and how you could still look at him with adoration even after knowing what he'd done. You could only admire his bravery for standing up for you, his swollen knuckles being evidence of this.

"Them, of course." He states bluntly, his teeth gritting against each other at just the thought of them. "You keep mentioning 'them' every time you land here. Who are they?" You asked, grabbing a pack of ice from near by as you use it to cool his injuries. The sudden cold biting at his skin, causing him to flinch, but he didn't pull away becuase he trusted you enough to take care of him, and because he liked the attention he was getting while being under a bright disco lamp.

"You know those guys from your class. They keep talking about you-" "Ohh them. Why even bother with them?" You cut him off with a scowl on you face, replacing your previous smile. Riki sat silent on the profilling bed, watching your figure hover over his wound. He bit his lip at the stinging sensation, but didn't tell you to stop because maybe the close proximity was nice. "You don't need to help me." Riki muttered enough for his words to reach your ears. "Are you crazy? I can't not help you after you beat them up for talking about me." You said, your eyes locking with his after cleaning the dried blood off of his knuckles. His face flushed a tiny bit at being exposed so openly by you. "You knew?" He asked. "Of course I knew."

He turned mute after that and on the inside you wondered if it was the right thing to tell him. You knew the fragility of mens egos, and letting him know that he was exposed might not have set the best mood, but yet again, you barely knew him except for the fact that he was in the same grade as you. The tall guy waited an extra couple of minutes in the office after being treated by you who was on break from lessons. The smell of lemons filled the infirmary and it smelled like freshly cut lemon.

Riki sat there, his shoes hitting against the floor that followed the rythm of the clock as he rolled his thumbs over each other while being deep in thought. "Excuse me." He called out, grabbing the sleeve of your uniform when you walked by. You hummed out a reply of acknowledgment and for him to continue. "How did you know?" It took you a while to realise what he was aiming at. "My friend told me." One second your hand was cupping his cheek to cool it down, now, you were the cause of them rising with heat again.

"You're Riki, right?" You asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the two of you, and he nodded. "Yeah, why?" He looked up at you from his low chair with curiousity and his eyebrows arched in confusion. "How about we get to know each other better." You said, shuffling with your feet. "A way to thank you for your efforts, I mean." You said, awkwardly as you couldn't meet his eyes. A glint shone in his eyes as he heard those simple words."Sound awsome, y/n." a smile beggining to spread across his face that failed to conceal his excitement.

[saintzweig]

poly boyfriends!artrick x reader headcanons

– THANK YOU FOR 500!! ily guys thank you for your support, i appreciate every single one of you truly 🥹 this is pretty simple, just fluff and domesticity. barely proofread because i'm me :p also feedback (on all my works) is appreciated so please feel free

ꢾ꣒ everyone knew that patrick and art were best friends, they were always together. tennis matches, classes, parties, you name it. it was nearly impossible for them to be apart for longer than an hour.

ꢾ꣒ but nobody knew they were together together. behind closed doors, hands were all over each other and lips locked. soft 'i love you's' whispered into each other's ears.

ꢾ꣒ patrick didn't care about people knowing but his partner did, it was something art wasn't ready for and he respected that.

ꢾ꣒ when patrick left for tour, art had a hard time adjusting. he didn't really have any friends aside from his boyfriend and tashi, who was always busy with tennis.

ꢾ꣒ so patrick encouraged him to join extracurriculars aside from the tennis team, convincing him that it would help broaden his network and all that stuff.

ꢾ꣒ that's how art ended up at your baking club, he didn't know how to bake but it was either this or the robotics club. you assured him that that's okay, he's here to learn anyways.

ꢾ꣒ it was you, him and a few more people that would meet up atleast twice a month at the assigned members' house. not his, seeing as he lived in the dorms.

ꢾ꣒ you were patient with him which he appreciated, you didn't make him feel dumb for struggling to follow even the simplest instructions neither did you make him feel out of place for being a man learning how to bake. (it was the 2000s, ok)

ꢾ꣒ one night, he dreamt about you in a way that made his heart race until he woke up. he was in a mood for the entire day after that, feeling so guilty because you were his friend and well, he has a boyfriend.

ꢾ꣒ he talked to patrick about it, not wanting to keep anything from him but he was surprised to hear his boyfriend be so casual about it. "it's fine, it was just a dream, it'll pass. plus you're allowed to find other people attractive."

ꢾ꣒ and art hoped it would pass, until it had been two months since and all it did was grew. into a real, stupid crush on you. he couldn't help the way his cheeks grew red or the way his heart skipped a beat whenever you would come near him during your club meetings.

ꢾ꣒ when patrick came back from tour, art couldn't stop himself from tearing up out of guilt. clutching the latter's shirt tightly and furiously apologizing for feeling this way.

ꢾ꣒ that's when they opened up the conversation about the possibility of art being polyamorous.

ꢾ꣒ the next club meeting, which was held at yours again, art brought patrick with him. and when patrick saw you, he understood almost immediately why art was so into you.

ꢾ꣒ despite your disheveled hair, dirty apron and streaks of flour on your cheek, you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. even surpassing his previous crush on tashi duncan.

ꢾ꣒ when art saw his reaction, he felt a burn in his chest. not out of jealousy but rather at the idea of extending their love to you, if you accepted.

ꢾ꣒ you and art decided to bake a cake together while patrick spectated, he's not to be trusted in the kitchen (they learned that the hard way)

ꢾ꣒ art stood on your right while patrick on the other, you were in the middle of them whisking the cake mix.

ꢾ꣒ patrick dipped a finger into the mixture before placing it into his mouth, causing art to softly glare at him for his lack of manners but the look was disregarded.

ꢾ꣒ "so... has my boyfriend been a good club member?"

ꢾ꣒ you couldn't help the way your breath hitched, glancing between the two of them with wide eyes. "boyfriend?"

ꢾ꣒ "aw, you don't talk about me, artie?"

ꢾ꣒ you stood there silently as embarrassment creeped all over your body. you had this idea that maybe art was single and into you, but now his boyfriend was right there, telling you all about their relationship.

ꢾ꣒ patrick immediately clocked your reaction, grinning down at you. "you like him, don't you?"

ꢾ꣒ you swear you nearly died from choking on your own saliva.

ꢾ꣒ "don't worry, sweetheart. he likes you too, a lot"

ꢾ꣒ things escalated quite quickly from then on, the three of you spending most days together at your house or on the tennis court, art walking you to your classes almost everyday and going out whenever patrick is home from tour.

ꢾ꣒ art slept over a lot at yours, his arm tucked under your head and the other draping around your waist while your laptop was on your bedside table, camera on and patrick sleeping on the screen.

ꢾ꣒ it was a little hard to navigate because you made sure to tread carefully as to not leave anyone out but for the most part, it was comfortable and sweet.

ꢾ꣒ patrick was loud and outgoing, art was more introverted and gentle while you were the one that kept the balance between their somehow similar yet contrasting personalities.

ꢾ꣒ you kept patrick in line and helped art learn how to put himself first.

ꢾ꣒ everyone thought that you were dating only one of them, which was fair seeing as how they saw you the most with art

ꢾ꣒ you didn't mind, although it was a little disheartening because you wanted people to know that patrick was your boyfriend too.

ꢾ꣒ and because no one knew patrick was in a relationship, he had a lot of people coming up to him and asking him out.

ꢾ꣒ art had enough one day when the two of you overheard a group of friends objectifying talking about patrick.

ꢾ꣒ when patrick walked up to the two of you before his game, their conversation only got more loud and obnoxious in hopes to catch his attention and art couldn't stop himself from pulling the brunette in for a very passionate kiss. "you're cute when you're jealous, donaldson"

ꢾ꣒ patrick played the entire game with a smirk on his face while art had his head nuzzled into your neck in embarrassment, "why did i do that?"

ꢾ꣒ after graduating university, art joined patrick in going pro, often travelling together.

ꢾ꣒ you opened a small baking business that you would often operate inside your shared apartment until you've saved up enough to rent a place for a small bakery.

ꢾ꣒ when the two boys are home, art, being the sweet boy he is, would help you with orders while patrick is in charge of choosing a movie and what to get for takeout.

ꢾ꣒ although patrick gets bored pretty easily especially when you two were taking long in the kitchen, he'd sneak in and try to distract the two of you. snaking his arms around your waist and trail kisses down from your jaw to your neck.

ꢾ꣒ of course he doesn't want art to feel left out so he'd remove one arm around your waist to reach over and squeeze art's behind, earning him a handful of flour thrown onto his pretty face.

ꢾ꣒ it's a little unconventional sure, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[prentisslvr]

congrats on 100 followers. i’ve been following since your first spencer fic, checkmate. i absolutely love your writing. could i ask for a spencer reid, with prompt 4 (he’s saying it) and then 8 (with reader saying it)

WHATS MINE IS YOURS

summary; you spill something on your shirt and you borrow spencer’s

genre: fluff, mutual pining, bestfriends to lovers.

prompt; “is that my shirt?” & “stop looking at me like that.”

authors note: i’m not sure if i like this, this was a little rushed but 🤷‍♀️

you had arrived at work in a haste, two cups of freshly made coffee in your hands, one for you, the other for spencer.

which was what you did every morning, but it’d just so happened that today, emily had her intern running around completing tasks, one of them being running right into you, causing you to spill piping hot coffee all over your white top.

you would’ve screamed had it not been for the fact the intern looked like she was going to burst into tears right then and there, so with a strained smile, and a pat on her shoulder you’d made your way back to your car looking around for something to wear.

the only thing being a spencers fresh laundry you’d picked up from the laundromat for him, he woke up pretty early in the morning, but he lived a walk away from the nearest laundromat.

and since you had a car, you grabbed them for him.

he appreciated this greatly, even if it had taken you weeks to convince him to allow you to do it, you lived like five minutes away from the laundromat, he live about fifteen minutes away in a car, probably thirty minutes to walk like he did.

you just liked making things easier, penelope had once said your love language was acts of service, whatever that meant.

you walked into the bullpen in one of his button up shirts, you sigh taking a seat at your desk, the shirt was white with stripes, it wasn’t your usual attire and it drew attention, from almost everyone.

especially the man who owned it, at first, he’d just thought you changed up your style for a moment, but when he really looked, he noticed what you were wearing.

his shirt.

and, god, he was having palpitations, you were in his shirt, and you looked really good.

it was no lie to the entire team, and well, pretty much the world, that whilst you and spencer were best friends, there was something more than that between the two of you.

“is that my shirt?”

your eyes shoot up from your paperwork and you guiltily nod. “i spilt coffee and im not exactly the most prepared person in the world, i had your laundry and—”

“don’t worry about it.” he smiled cutting your little rant off. “what’s mine is yours.”

you sigh thankfully. “thanks spence, you really are a lifesaver.”

as you continued work though, spencer would not stop sending you glances, if it were someone else, you may even have seen a hint of desire in his eyes.

but it was spencer, surely he wouldn’t.

“stop looking at me like that!” you exclaimed, it’d been ten minutes and spencer wouldn’t stop staring at you, granted you’d been looking too, but still.

spencer blinks. “like what?” his ears going red, he’d been caught, but he couldn’t help it, you just looked so good in his shirt, he’d never felt so attracted to you before now.

“nothing, nevermind.” you bite your lip looking down at your work with frown and spencer smiled, he’d tell you one day.

but for now the dr would settle for his stolen glances and making sure he kept a couple spare shirts in case you ever happen to ruin one of your own once again.

[lovelytayforce]

I agree with this comment here so hard, I remember getting blasted for calling readers who don't comment "leeches" on R/Fanfiction and I'm glad people are seeing that for what it is even if it's four years late

So, I'm gonna share my own little story here because discord has actively ruined communities for fanfic (and art too I'm not gonna leave y'all out cause my bestie @zoetiger-1106 is an artist who deserves way more praise than she gets!!) The reason why authors and myself see the "I'm shy" shit as an excuse is because the same people will type long ass tirades on Discord without a single thought. YOU CAN EDIT AO3 COMMENTS PEOPLE! If you make a mistake, read it back over and edit it. I've watched it happen in real-time with one of my favorite commenters on my one-shot where they left a short gushing comment and then came back and wrote more, you have no excuse much less reason to go "Man fandom keeps telling me to not critique and I might make a mistake so I will say nothing and consume like the average TV and Streaming consumer who thinks there doing something!" YOU have a lot of power with comments and even those bookmark tags hell just copy-paste what you put into those bookmark tags as a comment I DON'T CARE AT THIS POINT USE THAT LIL BOX TO VOICE SOMETHING!!!! God this is all over the place idc but I read back at those bookmarks, and saw people call my works the best and super cool and I APPRECIATE THAT but tell me! Stop taking the easy route, I been blasted for misunderstandings over comments multiple times cause people take my "tone" terribly cause it sucks being black and emotive online yay and for some reason people think !!!! Is bad? yes, I've been hit with that but I keep on trucking cause fuck whatever some weirdo thinks about exclamation points! Anyways back to discord and why I hate it now, I was in a small fandom, KFP got invited to a discord cause ONE person commented on my works and saw they talked about my fic, and at first, I was happy and people TALKED about my chapters at length in the fanfic channel. I basically was the ONLY ONE posting consistently in that channel and it was great but also I wanted that on my fic to show I improved so guess what I did? I went all in trying to one-up myself to be noticed, to have the acclaim my peers did so it would evolve outside of discord channels but it never happened. And Imma tell y'all now; it never will. Readers prefer convenience over your hard work, they are not gonna take time for you no matter how much you improve. People told me over and over while I looked for solutions for this; "We can't make commenting look like an obligation." "Add more prose, space these paragraphs better" all this just for no one to take the initiative and say something SINCERE towards a work they love on it. I've had to tell my own ex-friends now to go leave comments on works they called Masterpieces while ignoring me. Despite the fact they wanted Gen content in which I WROTE. Or met people who have very weird "I don't review" rules for themselves despite getting motivated by reviews themselves!! We're in a shitty time for creatives much less community cause we don't see each other as humans much less want to treat each others as we desire to be treated. Fanfic readers want to treat authors like showrunners and I hate it. But then your peers will tell you 'not to worry about engagement" and no I am because why is my hit count going up every day but ain't no one saying shit? Make it make sense!! I sat in that community commenting as much as I could, especially on long fics; it wasn't all perfect but I TRIED. I didn't expect shit back but hey it would have been nice but it never happened and again I learned; it never would. That's the real issue, no one wants to give no more; just take and take and take til you're sucked dry of passion worse than any corpo out right now. It's why I thankfully switched fandoms. I got ONE consistent commenter and they are better than that ENTIRE SMALL CLOSED COMMUNITY!! So, to any discord reactor for fanfic you better skip on to that message you made and copy and paste it in this box right here and never utter "I'm shy" ever again cause we see you, our friends tell us about you. You are not as anonymous as you think! 🫵🏽

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[dubina-dawkins]

WINCHESTER'S PICKUP, INJURIES AND CLUMSY KISSES

~1k words

>you get hurt while hunting with your uncle, John Winchester and his son. Dean can't help but help.

pairing:teen! dean winchester x teen! reader

warnings/notes: basically a really tooth rotting fluff, first love and first kiss trope, vague descriptions of reader's past (like death of their family), few but subtle descriptions of injuries, john winchester mentioned (and i mean he's a real trigger so that's important), gn reader, no usage of y/n

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

Minnesota. A werewolf hunt. Ordinary case-- boring, in a way. Just had to catch the bastard and shoot it through the heart with silver.

It seemed normal even to you, even though you weren't even an adult yet. Had to grow up early, huh? God, you hated that phrase. It sounded like you were feeling sorry for yourself. And self-pity is weak, very weak! At least that's what your uncle, the hunter who raised you since your family died in a vampire attack taught you.

And besides, you and your uncle weren't alone on this case, but with "family friends" - the Winchesters. Were they considered family friends if every time John needed help hunting and Dean was busy, your youngest son, Sam, was left at your and your uncle's house? Hell if I know! But at least you got a good memory of that family. And the older son's face, his cocky grin, his brilliant green eyes, his perfect nose and distinct freckles...it was all getting to your throat.

But damn it, it had to be some old, abandoned house. Protruding nails, scattered things, wood that left splinters in fingers - it would be dangerous here, even in daylight, without the risk of having your heart eaten...and when there was that risk, every step was tense.

Especially when the "hunted object" - you tried not to think of them as people, or else it became too hard to hunt - had run right into your path. The rumble of falling things, the pop of missed shots. This werewolf was physically strong and dexterous, so it was hard.

Like when he threw you into the wall and some protruding, crooked, rusty nail pierced your shoulder. It's okay, we've been through worse injuries, you'd think. Until Dean ran up to you, completely ignoring his father's scolding.

"Hey, are you okay? Ooh..." He seemed to swear, but it was quiet, a whisper he didn't want his father to hear. Dean sharply threw your arm, whose shoulder wasn't injured, over his neck and lifted you up, not listening to any of your complaints about not needing help.

"Dad's gonna kill you- sshhiit..." You hissed as he pressed his shirt, previously hanging over his black T-shirt, against your shoulder, treating the wound. The fabric was soaked with whiskey.

Hearing your sounds of pain, Dean lifts his emerald eyes from your wound to your face. His gaze is piteous, concerned, and his thick lashes glisten in the moonlight.

He was too handsome. Objectively, of course.

"Like the first time I'm going to get a punch from him... All right?" He squeezes your healthy shoulder in the palm of his hand, then puts his hand on the collar of your t-shirt, and...stops. "I... Can you slip your arm out of your sleeve?"

All his arrogance evaporated, there wasn't a particle of it in the air. And it was cute.

"You want me to take my clothes off? Pervert," you laugh, but your face immediately frowns as you raise your arm. Dean doesn't waste a second and starts helping you.

And God, the touch of his somehow warm fingers - there was a cool breeze outside, by the way - send shivers down your spine, making you dizzy. But you don't think about it. At least you're trying.

A low whimper escaped your lips as he tightened a piece of cloth, torn from your shirt and soaked in alcohol, on your wound. Maybe it wasn't unusual, but it still hurt.

"You're gonna stay here, you hear me? There's no way in hell you're going to go fight that big guy again right now. I won't let you," Dean said, glancing outside his dad's pickup window. His dad and your uncle were still in the house with a werewolf, apparently. You two could have been alone...for a little while. But of course that didn't excite you at all. You and Dean were just friends, right? Hunting bros. Nothing more.

And the fact that your gaze fell to his lips, then to his cheeks, covered with freckles, sharp cheekbones, ash-black long lashes, brilliant green eyes.... It meant nothing. At all.

"Whatever you say, sir," you quipped, rubbing the wound under the piece of cloth with your hand. Dean just gently pulled your hand away, "Don't make it worse for yourself, buddy." And oh, his tone is so gravelly. You're absolutely done.

But he won't let go of your hand. And you don't want to pull away.

His green eyes came up to your face, and he suddenly just froze, as if he couldn't look away. Dean stared at you as if you were the most brilliant and expensive gem, as if you were a living angel he hadn't believed in for a long time.... Like something unearthly. It would be foolish not to admit that you looked at him the same way.

Dean squeezed your hand lightly, and slowly - yes, very unusual for Dean Winchester to do something slowly - moved closer, but in a friendly way for now. In the same second, however, he remembered who he was, and his hand went up to your neck - still tentatively, of course... "Listen, buddy-..."

"Dean, please..."

And that did it. Dean's one word was enough for him to press his lips lightly against yours. He wasn't pushy, he wasn't rough, he didn't even let himself try to deepen the kiss. His lips only phantomly touched yours, guiding you, somehow even mentoring you, gently (still unusual for Dean Winchester himself!). His lips were matte, a little dry, but damn it, you liked it better than the sweetest meals of your life.

He pulls back, takes a deep breath and leans into you again. You're so cooked.

Dean can't help but marvel at your ineptitude at kissing- God, he could have sworn it made it the best kiss of his life. His lips move hotter, feistier, more needy, but still tentative, dipping down a little to leave a few quick nibbles on your chin and on your jaw--

Until you start hearing John and your uncle's voices outside. Oh, God, not now!

"Sorry, baby, sorry-" the nickname slides off his tongue so tenderly, lovingly, as he quickly pulls moves away from you.

Because after today, the chance of Winchester allowing you to see Dean earlier than after few months was close to zero.

a/n: i needed to think about little dean that haven't experienced hell already (on s4 currently yaaay). young jensen on header only because i can't think of teen dean looking as original cast actor for this role. and because i love young jensen. like really much. think im starting to get a lil' bit too much obsessed with dean

[filiazpink]

🩷"OH PRIMUS,,,"🩷

orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 warnings: suggestive language (like- once but still), darkwing being darkwing, i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff, really minor transformers one spoilers (?)

summary: orion finds himself completely enamored with one of his superiors and d-16 doesn’t really mind it, until one day, you show up at the mines.

a/n: my very first tumblr fic!! i might post this on my AO3 account as well! hope this reached your expectations considering more than 200 people voted for this prompt on my poll  =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ill get to some of the other prompts shortly after, i just wanted to know which one would be best to start with (and to properly introduce my writing to tumblr teehee) !! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated !! ENJOY!! 💞💞💞

word count: 1139

proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

orion simply couldn't stop thinking about you.

your shiny and colorful armor, your beautiful optics, your height and strength. that voice. the power and authority you had over him. that power rivaled sentinel prime’s in his eyes. everything.

she was simply breathtaking. 

…

“earth to orionnnn, come on, rust bucket!!” pink servos waving at him frantically snapped the red and blue mech out of his trance. focusing his glance, orion watched as elita-1 gave him one of the scariest faces he’s seen yet, followed by d-16 behind her with his arms crossed, looking at his friend with a disappointed expression.

“what’s wrong with you?! you broke protocol, AGAIN!” elita pulled the miner to his feet, groaning in annoyance. orion’s dumb dopey smile quickly turned into a shocked frown and he was about to ask what he did now, but thankfully, his friend answered for him.

“orion, buddy, i know,,, i know you just wanted to save jazz from that explosion but you almost got killed doing that, man.” d-16 looked to the side, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“you can’t keep doing this, pax. ONE more stunt like this and I’LL be the one to get-”

“what happened here??” elita snapped her head towards the newcomer’s voice, expecting maybe another miner, but her angry scowl quickly faded away once she saw who it was.

it was elita’s superior. 

it was you. 

oh primus, beautiful, amazing, spectacular you. orion felt a rush of warmth cover his face as you walked in along with,,,

oh- with darkwing. of course he was there with you.

STILL- you just showed up with no prompting, and two days in advance no less?? clearly, this was important.

orion fixed his posture and tried to dust off any grime he had on him. d-16 chuckled quietly at his best friend’s excitement, before turning his attention to you.

“(y-y/n)! i thought you were coming to check on our sector in t-two days! i’m so sorry you have to see my team like this i swear it was an accident-” the poor pink bot stammered, much to darkwing’s amusement and to your confusion.

“what accident? the cave collapsing? that’s normal, elita-1. don’t worry about it. you’re telling me it was a complete accident so i will take your word for it.” hearing those words coming from you made elita feel like she was just told that sentinel finally found the matrix of leadership.

“oh, thank you, thank you,,,” orion and d-16 watched as elita continuously thanked her superior, chuckling. 

“well, that means we don’t get our butts kicked too, thank primus miss (y/n) was here.” the red and blue miner said, walking away from the scene with his pal.

“yea and now we can just finish this shift and relax-”

“d-16?” the two stopped in their tracks, slowly turning around in an almost comical way to face the much taller femme bot. 

orion’s servos trembled. he felt embarrassed, he was over here making a fool of himself with how obvious his crush on you was. literally everyone who steps foot in the mines knew about it, aside from, clearly, you. heck, even darkwing seemed to know, considering that despite his optics not being visible, he clearly was glaring at the cog-less bot.

or maybe it was just his usual routine of hating them.

d-16, however, gulped and let out the tiniest of “yes?”. ohhh boy, what now?? did she assume that the cave collapsing was his doing?? did darkwing tell her that-

“you’re at the top of your ranks here, correct?” his train of thought was interrupted by your soft voice, watching as you knelt down to his height, placing a hand on his shoulder, which shocked him a bit. orion stared at the polished hand on his best friend’s rusted shoulder with envy, his optics narrowing just a smidge.

“i already spoke to elita about this, but i also want you to hear it. i’ve heard some great things about you, and how you excel amongst your ranks. so i just wanted you to hear this.” d-16 felt frozen.

‘what is this,,, feeling? my face is burning,,’ oh indeed it was. his face flushed in a deep blue as he anxiously waited for your next words. just your soothing voice got him like this and he simply couldn’t understand why.

“,,, i need you.”

,,,

WHAT???

the first to react was darkwing, who let out a very outraged grunt of confusion, as if you just cheated on him with a MINER of all people in his face, followed by elita, the other miners and orion gasping, everyone turning their heads towards the two.

“,,,w-what?” the gray miner’s voice box barely even processed his astonished question. he felt as if his circuits were frying up by how hot he felt. 

orion’s expression showed bewilderment and a hint of betrayal. this,,, wasn’t fair?? well- he knew it wasn’t d-16 who said that to you, but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous.

he wished it could have been him.

but then finally, you realized what you just said and removed your hand from the shorter bot’s shoulder, standing up straight and bumping into darkwing’s chest armor. “oh- p-please excuse me. i- uh, i chose my words wrong.” 

the onlookers decided to stop eavesdropping, realizing it was a simple mistake on your part. that made orion sigh in relief, which didn’t go unnoticed by d-16. but his attention was quickly brought back to you.

“my apologies, i- i would never say such things- not during work hours, i’m sorry- what i meant to say, i need you- as in i need you to help keep up the good work to motivate the other miners to do the same. it helps your ranks as it helps mine if we all put our parts to make a difference. s-so, yea.” you looked around, avoiding eye contact, a small blush remaining on your face. both miners nearly swooned at such a cute expression on your face.

“i just needed to do an early check up according to sentinel, that’s all. thought i’d try and give some pep talk and you can see i have to work on that,,” you giggled before clearing your throat and staring down at the mesmerized bots.

,,,

“goodbye.” and with that being said, you quickly marched back to the main exit with a very, VERY jealous darkwing in tow. 

orion turned his gaze to his best friend, who watched you depart with a dreamy look on his face. the red and blue bot sighed and gently shook his shoulder.

“d?,,,” oh he knew. 

he recognized that stare. the same stare he gave when he saw anything megatronus prime related, that same glimmer in his optics. it was that same spark that orion had when he first saw you.

oh primus.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗

[planetpedri]

Silver soul — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader

Summary: When banter leads to an interesting chain of events.

Word count: 1.6k

Disclaimer/s: banter + fluff + light angst

A/N: i unfortunately did change the initial summary + plot but i’m too lazy to change the name

Annoyance seeped through your expression as your head turned to face Pedri’s. The two of you had been the last ones left outside when your friends has moved inside to do various things. You were expecting Pedri to leave along with them, wanting your moment of peace. Unfortunately, he was not going anywhere.

“You couldn’t possibly let me have any peace, could you?” Your eyes narrowed into slits as you shuffled in your seat, bringing your knees to your chest.

The fireplace casted a warm glow across the Tenerife man, making his face adorn a warm color that enunciated his features. You hated how good he looked, it make him so much harder to hate.

Pedri’s mouth forms a lazy grin. “What? You don’t appreciate my company?” He knew what to say to set you off, loving the way your face scrunched in annoyance.

“Not even in the slightest.”

His low chuckle made you even more agitated. He was so likable and charming that it pissed you off, not to mention how easy conversations seemed to flow with him. Every time you spoke, hours would pass without you even realizing.

Pedri leaned back in his chair, head tilted to the side as he looked at your stoic face as you watched the flames dance. “Ay, guapa.” His words catch your attention, your head snapping in his direction. [beautiful]

“Ay, cabezón.” You shoot back, refusing to give into his flirtatious compliment. [big head]

The raven haired man laughed, his head falling forward, shaking slightly. “Okay, I was being nice and you just want to hurt me.”

Your shoulders move up and down, shrugging. “When will you realize you flirting isn’t going to make me dislike you any less?” You tug at the corners of your blanket to lift them over your shoulders to grow more comfortable.

“You know what I think?” Pedri asks, his eyes never leaving you, not even when you give him a hard, challenging glare. “I think you secretly like it.”

A laugh of disbelief leaves your lips, “and what makes you think that?”

Grinning wider, Pedri leans over in his chair. His elbows prop up on the armrest and he holds his head up with his palms. “You may not realize it, but your lips twitch every time I do.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

Pedri shakes his head, “no…” He was about to get real risky with what he says next, “but you can try and make me.”

Oh! Right, right. Funny.

Your lips pull into a thin line, eyes darting around his face. Is he being serious right now? But Pedri doesn’t look like he’s joking, his stupid smirk was gone, a serious look overtaking his face. He was.

“And how do you suppose I do that?” You nervously—wait. Nervous? Why were you nervous? Your knee had began to bounce, something that you did whenever you got anxious and, or nervous.

You were not anxious right now.

Your breathing slowed when Pedri’s gaze fell to your lips. He doesn’t say anything, just hums. He knew exactly what he was doing and you shake your head.

“Yeah, no.” You cough, turning away from him to look at the fire again. Your face was burning and it wasn’t because of the heat from the fire.

Pedri cracked up, finding it ever so amusing how flustered you’d gotten. He never realized how easy it would be to get you riled up like that.

And just like that, you’d stopped talking to Pedri. Completely. And every second of it was hell. All you could think about was his beautiful brown eyes that had a strong orange hue, the way his hair fell so softly on his head, the way he smiled with his teeth. It was so frustrating.

Pedri felt your absence the first time you didn’t show up to a gathering. Even when you didn’t come to a home game. Even when you said you hated him, you showed up periodically every three games.

He texted you, you didn’t respond. He asked your friends about you, they simply gave a, ‘she’s busy’ in response, but he noticed the slight questioning in their tone—like they didn’t believe what they were saying.

So, at his whits end, he stood outside your door in the rain. Pounding on the oak wood door, he progressingly got harsher and harsher until you finally swung it open.

“What—oh.” You falter, stepping back in surprise. “Pedri.”

“Yeah, Pedri. The guy you’ve avoided like I had a disease or something?” He snapped tightly, his hands moving as he spoke in frustration. “Tell me what I did wrong!”

You were taken aback, to say the least. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You answer quietly. “Are you cold?”

Pedri was befuddled. Cold? Was this your way of avoiding conversation? He was, of course. “What do you think? I’m drenched.”

“Come inside.” You step out of the way, motioning for him to come inside of your house.

Pedri’s mouth clamps shut. He strides inside and shrugs off his hoodie, leaving him clad in a white tee shirt that was still damp from the water that seeped through.

He’d never been to your house. It was exactly like he pictured. Neat, pops of color, random paraphernalia of the things you liked—yet subtle enough that nobody would know unless they liked those things or knew you well enough. It was all so.. you. He smiled a little.

“I can get you a blanket, coffee, tea? I don’t want you to get sick.” You were already moving toward the couch a few feet away, reaching for one.

Shaking his head, Pedri grips your arm, stopping you effectively. You glance back at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No. Stop stalling. Talk to me.”

Your eyes drift to his hand, ignoring the way his touch sent a bolt of electricity up your arm. “I have been busy. Not really feeling all the socializing. It’s not you.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me it isn’t true.” Pedri demands, dropping his hand to give you the stage. His arms cross and he cocks his head to the side with a hard stare.

You play with the hem of your sleeve, reluctantly looking at him. “It’s not you.”

Confusion flashes across his face. “Then what is it?”

“It’s me!” You exclaim, rubbing your face. “It’s my complete and utter lack of ability to get you out of my head! It’s the way I can’t stop thinking about you! It is—“ You turn around and take a breath. “My head makes it so difficult to be around you.”

Pedri listens intently, ignoring his urge to reach out and shut you up. His heart races and his head pounds and God he just wanted to kiss you!

He says your name, softly. But you weren’t finished.

“—Not to mention, I want to forget you so bad and I can’t! You have always been annoying but it’s reaching an insufferable level!”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“If you think this is one sided, you are dead wrong.” And that was all he had to say. He wasn’t going to waste your time and ramble about how deeply he felt your absence, or how he couldn’t sleep because your face was the last thing he pictured when he closes his eyes and he didn’t want it to go away.

Your mouth parts, your breath hitching in your throat. Words fail your tongue. When you can’t get anything out, your shoulders slump. Okay. Okay! This was good. Right?

He says your name again, snapping his fingers in your face. Blinking, you take a long breath, a slightly confused smile overtaking your lips. “Wow. Alright. Oh. Now what.”

“Now, I ask if I can have that blanket because I’m pretty fucking cold.” He says through a breathy laugh.

Your head dips when you chuckle, “yeah, yeah. You can sit on the couch. I’ll make you tea, too. You’ll probably catch a cold.”

You were so caring, even when you pretended you couldn’t stand him. You were caring all the time, Pedri supposed that was what he loved so much about you.

When you were back with the blanket and tea in hand, you plop down beside him. “I haven’t been busy. I’ve been miserable.” You confess, leaning your head back against the couch cushion with a loose smile.

“I’ve been miserable too.” Pedri admits, setting the mug aside and leans back as well. When he’s facing you, he takes the moment of silence to scan your face. Every small feature, he took in. Burned it into his brain.

Your stomach hurt with his examination because with it came the softest, most endearing smile. “Are you always going to creepy-stare at me? Or will this end after tonight?”

“Always.” Pedri shrugs, lifting his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing your soft skin. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t make me have to get upset at you, I hated every second of it.”

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut to sink in his every touch. “Never again.”

“And—“

“Can I shut you up?”

The call back to the conversation that happened only weeks ago had Pedri laughing. “Yes.” Without another word, your lips pressed to his.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you want to be tagged in future pedri posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @sakashq @ar4ujos @joaoflms @gadriezmannsgirl @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to @st4rgirl-ellie

[cherrycranes]

Real Cowgirls Ride (Emmett x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader Summary: When you go to a bar in upstate New York with your girlfriends for a bachelorette party, you encounter a hot rugged man who´ll teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl. Word count: 4,248 Contents: (Minors DNI). No apocalypse AU. Age gap (Reader is 24, Emmett is 39), Oral sex (fem receiving), a little bit of ass licking (fem receiving), fingering, P in v, protected sex! Author's notes: Once more, a collab with @fuckiingloser cause that's my wifey. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy the ass licker.

It was the first time you ever stepped a foot in this rural upstate New York town. Certainly an interesting choice for a bachelorette party, but your friend: the bride, and her future husband had grown up here. It was nice, though. A very appreciated change of scenery from your busy downtown New York City life. It had been a 3 hour drive to get here, and you planned to just have a good time.

The party had a cowgirl theme and you had gone all out: a borrowed pair of red cowgirl boots that you had never imagined wearing in your life, a pair of dangerously tiny Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that said “Budweiser” across the front. All topped with a matching cowboy hat sitting on top of your head. Your girlfriends showered you with compliments, you played the part so well.

It was around 11:30 pm now, and after several stops of the bar crawl, you all walked into a smoky, dark dive bar. The neon signs gave the entire room a dull glow. It was moderately full, mostly with old blue collar men tired from a long day's work. Some of them gave your group a few stares that only your tipsy state managed to ignore. You had come here for fun, and that’s what you would have. 

You got a big table, ordered some drinks and shots and cheered for the bride, wishing her all the best with the love of her life. And, in secret, you hopelessly wished that you would find yours too… You were painfully single at 24 and your only one previous boyfriend had cheated on you after a year of dating. You were still young but loneliness stung.

To distract yourself, you ordered a few more shots and just went along with the vibe of the bar and your friends’ laughter. Some moments later, you wandered over to the old school jukebox that sat alone on a dark corner to flip through the endless pages of song options. Some you knew, some you didn’t, and one you picked before a rugged voice behind you interrupted you:

“Excuse me, miss...” You turned to look. “I just have to have a look at these fancy red cowgirl boots up close...” The man in front of you said with a charming little smirk and with his baby blue eyes looking down at your feet, then at your legs, your body and, eventually, meeting your eyes. 

You looked him over too, with his plain white t-shirt, blue wrangler jeans, dusty work boots, scruffy beard with a few silver strands in it and a ball cap with some brown curls peeking out underneath it. Quite handsome. His little excuse to come over and talk to you was pathetic but cute, it had made you smirk a little. And when you looked into his beautiful eyes and saw that pretty smile again, you decided to give him a shot.

“Honestly… My buddies over there were givin’ me a hard time and said that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say something to the pretty girl in the red cowboy boots...” He gestured over to his friends in the booth in the other corner who gave you a wave and smile. You turned back to look at him, and gave yourself the luxury of eyeing him up and down again. He was definitely older than you, but not exactly old enough to be your father. He must have been in his early 40’s at most. He was sort of rugged, most likely a blue collar man. Some tattoos poked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He was not the type of guy you were used to encountering in New York City. “I'm Emmett..” He smirked, and you chuckled a bit at his words.

“Hate to break the news but I borrowed these from a friend… I’m not a real country girl.” You admitted with a smile. Emmett laughed softly and leaned against the almost forgotten jukebox.

 “Well… They look good on you either way… That’s for sure…” He looked over your body once more, shameless infatuation irradiating from him. His boldness made you smile again, and admittedly, it also turned you on. Like clockwork, the first notes of the song you picked started to play and Emmett gave you an approving smile.

“Good choice… You’ve got good taste obviously… Would you like to dance, beautiful?” He asked, his voice like velvet in your ears. You felt a sweet heat rush to your cheeks and you nodded.

“I'd like that.” You smiled and he took your hand with a gentleness that was to die for, pulling you closer and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. In return, you wrapped your arms around his neck and followed him along. Butterflies flew in your stomach like they hadn’t in so long when his arms tightened around you.

You chatted a little, dancing slowly in the middle of the dive bar with his rough hands rubbing the exposed skin of your back. In the background of the slow song, you could make out the voices and giggles of your friends who must have been staring in amusement and support. 

In between the small conversations and the dance, you found out Emmett owned a farm nearby. Mostly horses and some crops. You also found out he was 39 years old. Never married, currently single. Then it came time for questions about your life, your work, your age, where were you from…

“Ahh, so you’re a city girl, makes sense… Never seen someone as hot as you around here before...” Emmett whispered, still swaying with you and still holding you tight. You blushed, something not everybody did to you, but there was something about him. His looks, his charm, his rough hands. You couldn't help yourself.

Guided by that feeling, you kept talking. Now telling him about your failed relationship, your cheater ex-boyfriend and your 8 month-long singlehood. Emmett’s brow furrowed upon hearing that.

“Fuckin’ asshole… Who would ever wanna lose you? You need a real man… Not a little immature boy..” He whispered, shaking his head gently and tightening his tattooed arm around you ever so slightly, just for the butterflies in your stomach to go even wilder. 

Your song ended and the jukebox went silent. Emmett immediately asked to buy you a drink, and how would you even say no? Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a barstool with him standing in front of you, a hand on your thigh making you swoon. He leaned over to order, the scent of his almost worn-off cologne sending more heat towards the right places.

“Two miller lites please, thanks.. ” The bartender cracked open two beers and pushed them towards Emmett. He handed you one along with a sly smile, his other hand still on your thigh.

“Well… Cheers to a good night that I'm hoping gets even better.” Emmett held his drink up to yours and clicked them together with a nice melodic sound. 

“Cheers.” You chuckled, arousal pooling in your lower abdomen and burning steady for the entire time you and Emmett talked and flirted in between sips. Some guilt crept up on you at having practically abandoned your girlfriends, but every quick glance towards them made you find them winking and putting their thumbs up. So you focused back on Emmett, laughed at his jokes, touched his arm, gave him your best smile…

“Can’t believe a pretty girl like you is interested in an old man like me.” He rubbed his hand softly on your exposed thigh, and you couldn't help but let out a sincere chuckle.

“You're hotter than any guy I've met in the city by a million honestly… A real man who works with his hands and knows what he wants and isn’t shy about it…” Every word of yours was soaked in a sensual tone and your eyes never looked away from him now. He had the most beautiful pale blue eyes you had ever seen, his pupils were long dilated from looking at you, and they seemed to get even more when he heard you talking like that.

“Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy… I’ve gotta say you’re one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.” Emmett leaned in to whisper into your ear, his lips giving you a featherlight touch. “My hands aren’t the only thing I’m good with…” His warm breath sent a satisfying shiver down your spine. “And I do know what I want… I wanna see what’s underneath this little crop top and these tiny jean shorts…” 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. His rough hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh firmly, the sensation, along with his words, going straight to your core and now dampened panties. 

It was 12:45 am now, the clock upon the wall ticked in front of Emmett’s eyes with an eager question. 

“It's getting pretty late… Whaddya say you come home with me tonight… And I can teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl?” He whispered through a seductive smirk, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and effectively making your clit pulse. You bit your lip, took in the pale blue of his eyes and leaned a bit closer.

“You wanna be my teacher?” You asked him, holding his gaze. Emmett nodded before taking a swig of his beer, finishing it and putting it on the bar.

“I'm sure a girl like you could teach an old dog like me a few tricks too…” 

Your smirk turned into a grin before his eyes and your wet pussy fluttered again. God, he was so smooth and beyond sexy. The kind of man you needed.

“Take me home cowboy.” You whispered, ripples of arousal traveling around your body as you watched Emmett pull out his wallet and slap a 20 dollar bill on the counter to cover for your drinks and tip, before taking your hand like a gentleman.

Your girls cheered when they saw you walking out with him, and you so graciously gave them a playful middle finger that made them laugh out loud.

Emmett held the door open for you and all the exposed parts of your body felt the cool summer breeze of the night air. Not for long though, his truck was just a few steps away, and as the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you and helped you in. The inside was rather cozy, an air freshener hung from the rear-view mirror along with a, quite fitting, tiny cowboy hat charm. You flicked it with your finger as Emmett got in the driver’s seat. 

“Before we leave...” He started, leaning over the center console. Before you could ask him anything, his lips met yours in a hot, sensual kiss. Inevitably, your hand reached up to touch his beard, and you delighted with the taste of beer and faint mint gum in his mouth.

“Wow… All this is yours?” You asked softly, admiring the vast space bathed in starlight.

 “Sorry, I just had to… Couldn’t wait another minute.” He whispered against the softness of your lips, forming a smile. He sat back in his seat and started the truck up, making it roar to life. His left hand held the wheel and his right hand found his new favorite spot: your thigh. Soft rock born from his radio barely made noise as he drove you down the mostly empty country roads to his home nearby. You raised both eyebrows when an old farmhouse and several barns came into view.

“It is indeed, pretty girl.” Emmett smiled, pulling up next to the house and getting out of his truck, this time helping you out of it, upholding the true gentleman behavior. 

His arm wrapped around you once again, his body warmth fighting for you against the chill summer night’s breeze. You smiled when the front door opened for you and you were the first to step foot inside the cute little farmhouse. It was rather lovely, perhaps too minimally decorated but it was to be expected, he was a 40 year old man living alone. You seemed to be the most feminine thing in this house. 

“I love it… So cozy.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, attracting Emmett to you. His hands found your hips and he looked down at you with that flirtiness that made your pussy wetter. 

“You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.” He whispered, closer and closer to you until another sensual kiss captured your lips. Your mouth gave his skillful tongue entrance and with a delicious groan he picked you up easily. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands supported you by holding your ass. He swallowed a moan from you and walked you both across the house, towards the stairs and into his bedroom. There, he laid you down on his big bed, his lips reluctantly leaving yours for air.

You propped yourself up to your elbows, granting him a visual feast for his eyes to devour. Your exposed midriff, your little shorts and those cute little red boots. Since your cowboy hat had been lost somewhere on the way to his bed, your hair was slightly messy, and your lips glistened from his saliva. He didn’t know where to begin with you. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy…” He admired you, reaching down to pull one of your boots off, then the other one. Both joined his wooden floor. “I need to see this perfect body naked for me…”

You giggled, his hands now occupied themselves with your jean shorts. In a couple of seconds they also met the floor.

“Would ya look at that…” Emmett let out a flirty whistle upon seeing what you hid underneath the denim: a little red thong that made his cock twitch in his jeans, another reminder of how painfully hard he was. His calloused thumb didn’t resist and ran over your clothed pussy, slowly making its way between your folds and marveling at the feeling of the damp fabric. He growled in approval. 

“Someone’s wet…” He looked into your eyes and you felt a rush of blood divide itself to reach both your cheeks and your needy cunt. You bit your lip, your body ablaze.

“Flip over for me, baby… Face down ass up.” He ordered after playing with you over your panties a little bit. You, incredibly turned on and obedient to any sexy command he could throw your way with that deep voice of his, didn’t even think about it twice.

“Yes, Sir.” You played along, flipping over for him with your ass in the air and your cheek against the duvet cover. 

“Fuuuck…” He groaned at the sight. You knew very damn well your little thong was covering absolutely nothing from behind. “I wanna make sure this little pussy is prepped for my lesson…” he said, peeling the thong off you slowly. 

Anticipation pooled at your cunt, the flimsy red fabric left your body with his help. Once you were free, Emmett palmed both your asscheeks and spread them slowly. He moaned at the sight of your glistening pussy and tight asshole, all fully waxed.

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ…” He breathed out, feeling his heart skip a beat. “I could come just looking at you…” He whispered just inches away from your needy cunt.

You moaned softly at his words, feeling completely exposed yet so turned on. Nothing else could matter to you anymore.

“Please...” You whimpered so needily, he couldn’t resist leaning in and letting his tongue slide between your slippery folds. A guttural groan of his made your pussy reverberate, the taste of you on his tongue so addictive, so divine.

“Oh my god…” Now, you moaned. Emmett’s hot tongue licked a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your ass, flicking against it. The sensation was so good you could barely comprehend it.

You moaned over and over, his thick fingers pumped in and out of you in a slow but firm motion. He watched hungrily as your tight cunt took them in so easily and so greedily.

“You taste like honey…” He purred to our flesh before spitting on your pussy, his saliva slowly dribbling down between your lips and making him groan in approval. Two of his fingers gathered some of that spit on them before circling your aching hole, slowly pushing inside of you from behind. 

 “Fuck… Feels so good…” You spoke in between moans that only got louder when Emmett curled his fingers inside you, hitting that special spot. “Holy fuck…” 

The louder you moaned, the faster his thick fingers moved and curled. Your eager pussy had his index and middle fingers completely wet and glistening.

“That feels good, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk. “Gotta make sure this little pussy is ready to ride my big cock…” he growled hungrily. 

“I-I’m ready… Please…” His pumping fingers had you bucking your hips in desperation and stuttering, almost out of your mind. Emmett loved every single detail about it, you looked just so beautiful when you were this horny and needy. Mercifully, he pulled his fingers out of your begging cunt and slowly brought them to his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

“Flip over, baby.” He commanded, the sound of the zipper of his jeans making your ears perk up. You did as he said, catching the glimpse of his pants hitting the floor and his shirt being pulled over his head. He tossed it aside, the view of his toned, hairy chest and arms, along with those sexy tattoos of his made your pussy feel even more needy. Your eyes feasted on him, from his chest to his hard on in his briefs.

“I think you’re ready for your lesson…” Emmett crawled onto the bed and laid on his back, dark curls resting on his pillows. Right away, you sat on your knees, watching the way his arm flexed as he reached over to the side table and opened the drawer. Touch guided his way to a gold wrapper.

“A little help?” He smirked, looking down at his hard cock still tucked in his underwear. You smiled and nodded, your fingers hooking on the gray waistband and gently peeling the fabric down his legs. His big hard cock immediately sprung free for your eyes to devour. A throaty groan resonated from him. It was much bigger than what you had pictured, it was impossible to not stare at it in all its veiny, throbbing glory. 

Emmett ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling the latex down his thick cock and looking up at you with a sexy smile.

“You ready to be my cowgirl?” 

Immediately, you snapped out of your trance and nodded.

“Yes, sir…” Your voice came out sweet and so lovely, his hand motioned towards him.

“C’mere, baby…” Emmett cooed and you moved to stand above him. You lowered down slowly on him until your sensitive folds felt the covered tip of his cock, making him groan a little at the friction.

“Mmm, slow baby…” He coached you in a soft voice, putting his hands on your hips and guiding you. “Sink down slowly…” And slowly you did it. His cock slid inside your tight hot ready entrance easily, with all the time in the world. You sank down further, each of your knees on either side of his thighs almost trembling at the stretch. Loud moans escaped you both in unison as you adjusted to him and he adjusted to you. You felt so full, for a second you even doubted if it all could fit, but, as if his cock was designed for your tight little cunt, he fully slid right in with ease. 

“Oh, fuck…” You breathed out, looking into his beautiful eyes through your fluttering eyelashes. “So deep…” Words came in soft whine. Soft, clingy hands supported you by touching his broad, hairy chest. Emmett smirked, a perverted gleam in his eye from watching you adjusting to his thick cock.

“You feel me in here, baby?” He whispered, voice thick and heavy with lust. One of his calloused hands moved from your hip to your lower belly, pressing into your soft flesh and creating an erotic pressure that you could only moan and nod to. You felt him so deeply, all over and inside you.

“You feel so fucking good around me…  So tight and warm. I think this pussy was made to ride my cock.” His voice was low and rough, both hands moved to your hips again, ready to begin.. 

“Now, just go with the flow and get into a good rhythm baby… I’ll help…” He coached you with a sly grin that made your cunt clench around him. He was just so sexy, and he knew and reveled in it. “Just relax and enjoy the ride…” 

After exhaling a needy breath, you started to swivel your hips a bit, riding him slowly. Emmett groaned, his eyes closed in utter pleasure. His hands stayed glued to your hips and guided the slow rhythm your rolling hips set. You both moaned. His hips moved a little under you, encouraging you more and more.

“Look at you cowgirl...” His voice was already a little breathy, his groan took over the last letters of the word “girl”. His cock throbbed inside you at the sight of your pretty tits moving under the Budweiser logo. He helped you out with that, pulling your cropped shirt off your body and hungrily taking in the view of your bare chest as you bounced on his dick.

You moaned more when the tip of his cock hit that deep spot, and the more you spent riding him and earning yourself the title of cowgirl, the more he entertained an idea. 

After a minute or two, Emmett pulled you down, making you chest to chest with him and wrapping his toned arms around you. A searing, sloppy kiss entered your mouth while his hips pistoned from beneath. Your sweet tongue melted into his before he whispered against your lips.

“Now it’s time for you to relax and I'll do all the work baby…” His hoarse voice tickled your skin and he planted his feet on the mattress, gaining the support he needed to immediately pick up the pace and pound into you relentlessly from underneath. No thoughts registered properly in your brain from that point forward, it was all just a hot, wet pool of pleasure. A series of curses left your lips with no particular order and with no respect for anything.  

“Oh-fuck… Oh my fucking god... Fuck!” You cried out into the skin of his neck, the sound of your voice mixing with his low groans and the slapping of skin.

“You fuckin like that?” He panted into your ear, his hips never stopping as you moaned non stop.

“Yes... Yes... Fuck, yes!” You cried out as his hands moved to spank your ass, hard. You almost screamed, the sting nearly sending you over the edge. It was so overwhelming, you didn’t fully realize just how close you were until that moment.

“Jesus… I think I'm gonna come…” You whimpered and his hand came down again hard on your ass, definitely leaving a red mark. Emmett held you so tight against his chest, holding you in place for his thick cock to slam into over and over.

“Come for me..” He looked right into your eyes with pure want in the blue of his irises. And as if on command… You did. 

Eyes squeezed shut so tight you saw lights, a whiny moan was born from the depths of your chest and your sweet, slick cunt clenched around him tight. Your legs couldn't stop shaking and your orgasm took over every single sense. All your being was just a giant orgasm that still could feel him pumping hard into you.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out in awe watching and feeling you succumb to all the pleasure. 

“Good girl..” He whispered, praising you right before capturing your lips in a hot kiss. “I'm coming too..” Even in your state, you could tell. His thrust had gotten sloppier and his breathing was much heavier. He wasn't able to hold back much longer. Inside the transparent latex, you felt him pulse and fill the material with his warm cum. He groaned, his arms held you tight and kept you there until the last drop was out.

Panting like you had just ran a marathon and with hearts beating fast, you laid there chest to chest. You put your forehead against his in a sweet moment, in response, his hand rubbed your back slowly.

 “Jesus… that was...” He whispered, still a little out of breath looking right into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush and put on a shy smile. 

“...the best sex i’ve ever had…” You softly finished his sentence. 

He pulled out slowly and sat up with you still pressed against his chest. His eyes studied your face for a minute before speaking. “I think you may be a real cowgirl after all…” There was that sly smirk once more, one that made you return the sentiment and lean in with him for one last soft kiss.

Pinterest board with our visual inspo for this fic, made by @fuckiingloser

[classyrbf]

SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity

INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.

He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.

And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.

Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.

Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.

Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.

“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.

He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.

“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.

“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.

“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.

He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”

His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.

And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.

“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.

“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.

“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.

“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.

The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.

You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.

Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.

“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.

Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.

“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.

His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”

As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.

“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.

“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.

“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.

“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”

You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.

[lady-pug]

The Ballad of Green Snakes and Honey Badgers

Prologue

Summary: When your former friend and current Triwizard champion Aemond Targaryen sends you a note asking you to meet him after years having last spoken to each other, you are left wondering what he could possibly want. So when, to your surprise, he asks you to be his date to the Yule Ball, you make a decision that will either mend your broken friendship with the Slytherin boy or irreparably shatter it forever.

Pairing: Slytherin!Aemond Targaryen x Hufflepuff!Tully!Reader

Word count: 2,1k

Warnings: none

Notes: Hello hello, dearest readers! How have you all been? 

I offer you the prologue to a new story I am now incredibly excited to write. The idea for this came from the lovely @peachysunrize, whom I admire very much and love her works (I’ve actually been saving Tangerine Dreams for when I have enough free time to binge read it, ‘cause I know once I start I won’t be able to stop), after Mr. Ewan Mitchell was spotted serving cunt looks at the British GQ’s Men of The Year last night. It was supposed to be a one-shot howeeeeever I ended up getting a little carried away and dicided to go for a slightly longer story (so I’m so so sorry, Aemond actually wearing the infamous outfit at the Yule Ball won’t show up for a few chapters, please forgive me).

Just to explain a few details of this story: Hogwarts is in Westeros, located in the Crownlands near the border between these lands, the Reach, the Riverlands and the Stormlands. Volaena Academy of Magic is situated in Volantis, houses female students from Volantis, Pentos and Lys (equivalent to Beauxbatons) and Green Grass Institute is situated in Braavos, houses male students, mainly Dothraki, from Braavos, Pentos and Tyrosh (equivalent to Durmstrang)

I never thought I’d write a Hogwarts!AU but here we are! Although the HP/WW universe was a very important part of my childhood, I haven’t consumed any content related to it in a very long time (except for random memes on ig I often trade with a friend) because that woman (you know which one) pisses me the fuck off. But since no one will be profiting from me writing this (at least I don’t think so), and I still quite like the universe even if my love for it got diminished somewhat, I decided to give it a try. I won’t lie, I had fun!

I’d just like to warn that the next update for this series will take a little while, as I have quite a lot of work to get done (the semester is ending and Uni is kicking me in the butt once more, what’s new) and I’d like to finish writing a new chapter of Written Between the Lines, the other Aemond series I have on going, first.

Although Reader is a Tully I didn’t write her with a specific appearance in mind, and the same goes for Kermit Tully, so it is up to you to imagine what she looks like. I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it! And thank you so much @peachysunrize for coming up with the idea in the first place! If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

When you woke up on that rainy morning, you had expected it to be just another normal Tuesday, only barely over a week into the school year. The day had started out like any other: you had met with Oscar for breakfast at the Great Hall, being joined shortly after by Kermit and Davos, and avoided at all costs glancing in Cregan’s general direction. Then you had headed for your classes of the day, being paired with Doreah, a lyseni girl from Volaena, for your year-long Herbology project. 

While Doreah seemed nice, and you believed you would find a friend in her still, it was moments like this when you found yourself missing Helaena the most. You had promised to write to one another, of course, with you assuring you’d keep her updated in all the latest gossip around Hogwarts, yet it just wasn’t the same. You had become so used to seeing her at the farthest corner of the Ravenclaw table, waiting for you at supper, or sneaking out of the Hufflepuff common room together and into the kitchens to arrange snacks for your late night study sessions that you didn’t realize how much you’d miss this small things until she was actually gone, only just starting her career as a Magientomologist. Still, all you had to do was survive one more year until you could take your N.E.W.T.s and leave this place to search for a career of your own, and perhaps achieve your dream of sharing a flat with your best friend.

It was only after you left your Defense Against the Dark Arts class, having been squished between two quite large dothraki students from Green Grass, that you noticed something was different. A small piece of parchment was sticking out from inside your book, yet you didn’t remember putting it there; while you often used random papers as bookmarkers, it didn’t seem to be the case here, as the pages holding the parchment were ones you did not remember having ever read. As you turned the paper around you realized it was not just some paper, it was in fact a note, and you wondered how someone managed to place it inside your book, as you hadn’t left it unattended at all. But as you read the words, it would soon become clear to you.

Meet me at the library after dinner ~ A. T. 

The note carried a neat, flourished handwriting, written in expensive green ink. And yet, as your eyes skimmed over the words once more your heart started beating faster and faster, the flow of blood seemingly thundering on the inside of your eardrums. A. T., the person had signed. 

Aemond Targaryen.

What could he possibly want with you? Him, of all people? After all these years? Why did he want to speak to you now? It made sense then, how the note had appeared in your book without you realizing it; Aemond was quite good at Transfiguration, one of the top students even (but was there anything he wasn’t good at?), he excelled in it so for him to conjure a note inside your book was a piece of cake. But that didn’t explain what he wanted.

Sighing, you crumpled the paper in your hand, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pondered upon a decision you were most likely to regret.

There was only one way to find out.

You were quiet during supper, deep in thought as you poked at your food. Kermit and Davos both believed it had to do with the fact that Cregan and Alysanne were sitting right in front of you at the Gryffindor table, choosing then to sit on the bench across the table from you to try and block your view from the happy couple. But only Oscar knew the real reason for your silent demeanor.

Even though Kermit was your twin, you often felt closer to your younger brother, especially after you and Kermit got sorted to different houses on your first year, him being a Gryffindor through and through and you becoming the true embodiment of a Hufflepuff, and Oscar being selected for the same house as yours a year later. In truth, Oscar just understood you better and the other way around was also true, so you ended up becoming one another's confidants, telling each other everything and anything. So once you got back to the common room you had immediately spilled the beans about the mysterious note you had received.

He had begged you not to go. He just knew that whatever Aemond wanted couldn’t possibly be good. Not after everything. But you were curious, and although he would never admit to it, his curiosity on the back burner in face of his concern for you, so was he. So he agreed to your plan of simply listening to what Aemond had to say and leaving. 

Or that would have been the plan, had what Aemond asked not left you completely flabbergasted.

Arriving at the library, now almost completely void of students, save for one or two first year nerds, you noticed Aemond was already there, punctual as ever.

“You came.” he seemed surprised as he raised from his chair, the book he had been absentmindedly flipping through forgotten over the hardwood table.

You shrugged, not willing to let him see how affected you were by his presence.

“Let’s hear it then.” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to appear more confident than you felt.

“What?” 

“You called me here for a reason, right? What do you want?”

“Can I not just wish to see an old friend?” it was his turn to shrug.

You scoffed, gritting your teeth as you glanced away from him. Old friend my ass, you thought. You weren’t friends. Not anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.

“Right.” he must have noticed something in your expression, for he dropped the innocent act “I need your help.”

What could he possibly need your help with?

“Be my date for the Yule Ball.”

What?

“What, why?” you were honestly dumbfounded by his suggestion, because that was what it was; it wasn’t a question, it was closer to a demand. And how dare he demand something from you?

“It is mandatory for the champions to dance at the Ball. And for that they need a partner.”

That’s right, Aemond had been selected as the champion to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament against Green Grass and Volaena. The professors had explained what that entailed, and how dangerous it could be, and for a fleeting moment, your heart twinged in worry over him, before it was snuffed out and replaced by the usual cold indifference you felt towards him. Furthermore, they had let all students know that a special ball would be held at Christmas, and that all three champions were required not only to attend but to dance as well.

“I know that.” you huffed, feeling a little offended “I mean why me?”

His stare turned quizzical, as if he couldn’t quite possibly understand what you were implying.

“Why not take your girlfriend?” you asked, confused “I mean, she may have graduated already, but professor Mellos said we could bring dates from outside the school.”

He glanced away from you, his expression turning dark for a split second, before returning his gaze to you.

“Alys and I broke up over summer.” he said with a nonchalance you suspected to be fake.

You wanted to ask, you were desperate to know why, but you had to remind yourself it was none of your business. His life was none of your business and it was better that way.

“Why not some other girl then? They seem to line up for your attention nowadays. Floris has always had a thing for you.”

Aemond was already considered a pretty boy even for normal standards, always having one admirer or another. It lessened a bit after he started dating Alys, a sixth year student, in his fourth year in school, but you knew for a fact people still pinned after him in silence. But after he was named Hogwarts’ triwizard champion, a lot of girls and even some guys flocked around him, vying for his undivided attention. You knew most of them would die for a chance to be his date at the Ball, to be his even if only for one night.

“It would give them the false hope that something more could happen when it won’t.” he tipped his chin, staring at you from under his lashes, and something in the way he was looking at you was deeply unsettling “At least we know where we stand with one another.”

Ouch.

“Why would I ever agree to go with you?”

“Well you certainly aren’t going with Stark, that’s for sure.” the corner of his lip twitch in the tiniest of smirks.

A pang of shame assaulted your heart, heat spreading in your chest and settling in your cheeks.

“How do you know about that?” your voice faltered, small and almost afraid. 

His face fell, then, as if he didn’t expect this reaction from you.

“Everyone knows about it.” 

Humiliation burned in your chest, the sting of tears steadily brimming in your eyes forcing you to glance away from him to stop yourself from breaking down in front of him. Great, now the whole school (and perhaps even the other two guest schools) knew how your boyfriend of four, almost five years had dumped you and practically immediately after started dating your cooler, prettier, hotter cousin. He couldn’t even be bothered to show his face, he had broken up with you through a letter, a majestic white owl bringing the news one summer morning.           

“No.” you sniffled, daring yourself not to cry, and turning away from him, ready to leave and forget this conversation ever happened.

“Wait!” he grabbed your arm, halting your movements. His face was soft when you glanced back at him, something akin to guilt clouding his own features “Please. Just- please.”

That was new. For as long as you had known him, you knew one thing was certain: Aemond Targaryen didn’t beg. For him to stoop this low, at least for his standards, must mean he was indeed desperate.

“What’s in it for me?” you asked in turn.

He pondered for a moment, a surprised look on his face, as if he didn’t expect to get this far into the conversation.

“You’ll get to make Stark jealous?” he offered, and you chuckled mirthlessly in response.

“I don’t want to make him jealous.” and you couldn’t even if you tried, not in comparison to Alysanne of all people “I just want to move on from him.”

“Then you’ll get to show him just that. That you have moved on from him and are already seeing new people.”

His reasoning made sense and you were intrigued, sure, especially considering you weren’t totally over Cregan just yet. But it definitely wasn’t worth the hassle.

“And I’ll help you study for your History of Magic N.E.W.T!” he was quick to add.

Now that was a really tempting offer. History of Magic was one of the subjects you struggled with the most, having a really hard time memorizing all the dates and events, ever since your very first year. And you knew he was well versed in history; he studied the subject even when not required, just for fun. To have someone like him help you study would definitely help you not fail the test.

“Okay.” you sighed out between, biting your tongue “I’ll be your date to the Yule Ball.”

His face lit up then, almost bouncing in his heels from excitement, before feigning indifference.

“Good.” he nodded to himself “We’ll have to spend more time together until then.”

“I didn’t agree to that!” you squealed, the thought of spending any more time than necessary with him making you uneasy.

“We need to be convincing. Otherwise Stark will see right through it.”

He was right. Of course he was right.

“Fine then. When do we start?”

He smiled brightly then, and for a moment you saw that young boy he once was, the one who held your hand on the first train ride to school all those years ago.

“I’ll find you for breakfast tomorrow then and we can go to Potions together. After lunch we can start revising History. How does that sound?”

It could be worse.

“Alright by me, I guess.” 

Aemond grinned cheekily, and you knew then that you were screwed. 

“It’s a date then.” he sauntered away, but not before throwing you a quick wink to match his smirk.

Oscar was going to kill you.

[taylorswiftstyle]

Out and about | New York City, NY | November 19, 2024

Carolina Herrera ‘Check Pattern Coat’ - $3,290.00 Carolina Herrera ‘Plaid Mini Skirt’ - $990.00 Effy Jewelry ‘Signature 14K Yellow Gold Sapphire and Diamond Panther Necklace’ - $10.995.00 Louis Vuitton ‘Tambour Watch’ - $54,000.00 Fendi ‘Peekaboo ISeeU Petite Bag’ - $4,400.00 Gucci ‘Horsebit Platform Loafer Slingback’ - $1,500.00

When I tell you how delighted I was to see Taylor in yet another copy + paste (mostly) outfit (Spoiler: It’s the shoes for me). This week, Taylor was spotted out to dinner with friends in NYC, just ahead of her second round of dates in Toronto, ON - her penultimate city stop on the Eras Tour.

This outfit drew my eye for a number of reasons.

The first of course is because I would absolutely employ this outfit into my own fall/winter fashion. An outfit that’s black and white and plaid all over? Yes, sign me up.

The second is because of the fantastic way it slots in neatly in her fashion timeline from her previous ‘candid’ outing at the Chiefs vs Broncos game on November 10. Building a recognizable style and brand takes consistency and repetition! Note the matching patterned outerwear + skirt as the major “moment” which are then grounded by black accessories (top, bag, shoes). The extra kiss is the repeat watch which Taylor notably debuted at the game (watches are an accessory vertical she’s never explored previous).

But mostly, I was so happy to see Carolina Herrera pop up as a designer in Taylor’s rotation again. She’s previously worn CH only sparingly. The most notable times were her at the 2014 Golden Globes and a handful of appearances in CH outerwear in 2014 and 2019. I’ve always been a fan of their elegant, timeless designs so I’m thrilled to see her getting rotation here.

Taylor has had a few statement chains on rotation in the last year or so that often feature similar characteristics. Typically gold with diamond embellishments and a central, front attachment. This particular one is conjoined by two panther heads which kind of remind me of the big cat emblem that are featured on the colourful 1989 2.0 sets by Roberto Cavalli she wears on the Eras Tour.

Over the last year, Taylor has upped her jewelry game and has explored the art of the stack in various categories (necklaces, earrings, bracelets). But one category that is entirely new to her? Watches. In my memory, the only time I can recall Taylor coming close to watches is when they were formatted into different settings like, say, a vintage watch face restrung onto a necklace pendant.

You might remember that Taylor first debuted this particular watch at the Chiefs vs Broncos game on November 10, 2024. That particular outfit feels notably similar to this one for the way it employs a coordinating patterned “set” of outerwear and skirt grounded by black accessories. A very signature / slideshow moment that immediately calls back to one of her recent appearances.

As a personal copy + paste, my preferences would stop at the ankle. While I typically like a more minimal shoe, the chunky loafer style is very recognizably Taylor. It’s a silhouette that is staple for her and is no surprise to me that it’s what she’d opt to style the outfit with here.

Typically, we’ve most seen this style of shoe in the form of a fully enclosed loafer. Perhaps I should see this ‘slingback’ style as a meeting in the middle 😉 I do +1 and appreciate the “sandwich styling” with consistent black accessories that keeps the entire outfit cohesive.

Illustration by Amelia Noyes

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello, I hope that I'm not too late for a small request for the NRC family interaction. But still do want to ask for a req for Azul Ashengrotto and Jamil Vipver to interact with Najma Viper. I could already imagine how chaotic it would be already.

Oml, Jamil’s worst nightmare would be if Najma developed a crush on Azul 😭 He would so go protective big brother mode… I didn’t decide to do that for this interaction though, it’s just a funny thought I had.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Oya, is that my dear friend Jamil-san over there?”

That voice. That ever-so grating voice, trilling out his name so sweetly. Immediately, Jamil wished to retreat into his hoodie like a turtle to a shell and die there.

Alas, he could do no such thing—not when he was trapped among several milling bodies, his younger sister in tow. Najma had heard and glanced over her shoulder. She locked eyes with the approaching octopus and arched an eyebrow as she tugged on her brother’s sleeve.

“Hmm? Hey, Jamil. There’s a guy in glasses headed this way and waving. It sounds like he wants your attention,” she pointed out.

“I know,” he hissed back, already starting to powerwalk away from Azul. And that’s just what I’m afraid of.

“Aren’t you going to at least say hi? It’d be rude to straight up ignore him.”

Jamil internally cursed. All that nagging from their parents about etiquette and how to show hospitality had been well and truly drilled into him as well as into her. Now it came back to bite him like a loose snake where it smarted the most.

“Please. He isn’t worth my breath—or the trouble.”

“Jamil-san! Please wait.”

To his dismay, Najma stopped dead in her tracks. “I really think you should greet him before you go.”

He gaped at her. “You’re joking.”

“Sevens, why are you being so weird about this?” She rolled her eyes. Then, cupping her hands around her mouth, she called out to Azul. Jamil’s stomach sank. “H~eeeeey! Jamil onii-chan’s friend! It’s nice to meet you. I’m his adorable little sister, Najma.”

He frowned. “Since when am I Jamil onii-chan? And since when are you my adorable little sister?”

“Since now,” she muttered back.

“Ahhh, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Azul crooned. He took Najma’s hand and shook it. “Azul Ashengrotto, at your service. I’m a classmate of your brother’s, as well as dorm leader of Octavinelle and manager of the student-run on-campus eatery, Mostro Lounge.”

“Oh, wow!! That sounds so cool.”

“He’s humble bragging,” Jamil said flatly, folding his arms. “… What do you want, Azul?”

“Is that any way to greet your beloved bosom buddy?” He sighed, shrugging his hands up. “I only wanted to check in with you and make sure that you were enjoying Family Day.”

“Don’t say that. It’s disgusting—and patently false.”

Jamil’s eyes sharpened into pointed daggers. He’s surely sniffing around for weak points. If he cannot glean them from me, then he intends to pry those secrets from Najma. I won’t allow that to come to pass.

He gripped his little sister’s hand tightly and tugged on it. “I believe this concludes the obligatory pleasantries. Come along, Najma. We must get going to our next meeting.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” she pouted, yanking back. “You’d seriously rather go to a boring old meeting than chat with a friend?”

“Don’t be difficult. You’re not visiting to make social calls, you’re here on business.”

“But you’re not attempting to socialize at all. Geez, you’re not putting anything you learned at home to practice, are you?”

“I am plenty!! I’m just selective about where and when to apply those teachings—as should you.”

“What a deep bond you have with your sister, Jamil-san. You fuss over her like a mother hen,” Azul chuckled, pushing his glasses up. “Why, as an only child, it warms my heart to see this kind of camaraderie. I shall have to commit this to memory.”

A heart? he scoffed. A cold, slimy one, perhaps.

Jamil shot Azul a frigid glare. “Do NOT.”

“Oh? But what is so wrong with appreciating a tender moment of bickering between siblings? It’s something I could never hope to experience myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, Jamil! You’re so totally being mean to your classmate for no good reason. Don’t you feel any shame?”

“Are you taking his side in this?!” he demanded of his sister.

“So what if I am?”

“My, my, Najma-san!” Azul suddenly wedged himself between the Vipers like an octopus slipping into the crack of a rock. His smile was annoyingly broad and simpering. “It seems that you and I are kindred spirits.”

“Yup! Looks like we are,” Najma agreed, an equally unsettling smile creeping onto her face.

Jamil paled. I don’t like where this is going…

“Then it is clear what we must do.”

“Yeah, it’s so obvious.”

They both turned to Jamil. The dread in his stomach spiked, hitting his peak, then sailed past it. He could feel his blood pressure shooting up too.

“We should bully him!”

[imawreck]

His

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…

Author’s Note: I realize that in most of my fics Thor is the other romantic interest/situationship, but you CANT tell me that man wouldn’t flirt up a storm with a beautiful woman any chance he got. Also, this is my first smutty fic so feedback and comments would be much appreciated! This is on the more explicit side, so please read with caution.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), choking kink, Possessive!Winter Soldier, flashbacks, hair pulling, fingering, metal arm kink, dominant!winter soldier, probably some more but those are the big ones.

Word Count: 4,850

Breakups are ugly most of the time, and almost always one sided.

You and Bucky had been apart for at least three months. You’d stopped counting, wanting to forget it and focus on anything else. It was easier that way, to ignore the heartbreak and clutter up your life with other things to do.

Unfortunately, you still lived in the same tower on the same floor, right across from one another. He was constantly around, and no mattered how hard you tried, you just couldn’t avoid him.

It was hell.

And it was only hell because Bucky hardly gave you a good reason for the break up. Sure, you had your arguments. Mostly about his past and how much better he thought you deserved, to which you’d list all the reasons he was wrong. In reality, those weren’t really arguments. It was just Bucky having a low point, which you were more than willing to help him work through. Outside of those moments, you had felt that your relationship with Bucky was near perfect.

So when he had come back from a mission and broke up with you, his only reason being ‘I can’t be with you,’ it’d been a slap to the face. Like someone had shoved a knife in your heart and twisted.

The worst part was that he wouldn’t even allow you the chance to talk to him afterwards. Every time you were in the same room together alone, he’d find every reason not to speak with you.

So, you’d taken the hint and were now trying to figure out a way to move on.

That was made a little easier when a certain God of Thunder made his interest known to you. Thor was sweet, charming, and a little goofy. Not to mention handsome, with his blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

He’d made an effort to woo you not long after you’d parted from Bucky, and you’d informed him that the breakup was hard for you and that you couldn’t really do something new right now. Thor had been surprisingly understanding, and even took to just being friends quite well. Granted, he was still flirty, but he knew where you both stood and was always happy to lend an ear when you needed one.

He turned out to be just the friend you needed.

From the outside looking in, none of the others thought it was ‘just friends,’ especially when Thor would openly show his interest in you. Especially to a certain Super Soldier.

Bucky was painfully aware of what was going on between you and Thor even though he desperately tried not to be.

His super hearing picked up on the soft laughter you and the god would share, on the hushed whispers you’d exchange late over a mug of coffee when you thought everyone was asleep. His every fiber was attuned to you, and he couldn’t help but fixate on your presence.

You were like gravity to him, and he always found himself near you when he knew he should be as far as humanly possible. He saw the little looks you shared when Thor would compliment you, noticed your shy smile when the god would enter the room. He could tell that Thor was winning you over slowly but surely.

He couldn’t fucking stand it.

So it wasn’t a big surprise when he shipped off on the next mission possible.

You worried, your heart still set on loving him, but you tried to pay it little mind. And after a few days, it actually helped. You felt better, found yourself smiling more. You were beginning to move forward.

That was, until the jet was reported missing. Then Bucky was all anyone could talk about in the tower.

Thor tried his best to keep you in the dark about most of what was going on, and it wasn’t hard seeing as you were just a rather good strategist and not a serious Avenger. You were only really included in skimming over preplanned attacks and making sure they hadn’t missed anything critical.

But word still spread, and worry was ever present.

Needless to say, it was very strange when Mr. Stark called you into a private meeting with himself and two other of the elite team.

“Y/N,” He spoke softly in the kind of tone that lets you know that whatever he says next is going to ruin your whole week. “There’s a situation with Barnes.”

You frowned, eyebrows scrunching at him from where you sat at the rather empty end of the long black table. “I’m confused. Bucky and I broke up months ago. Why are you talking to me about it?”

Steve, who you’d befriended while dating his best pal, looked at you with poorly concealed pity from his seat next to Stark. “Because we know he still means a lot to you and that you’re our best hope in this situation.”

That didn’t make you feel better about whatever was going on at all. “What do you mean ‘this situation?’” You eyed them both, before dragging your eyes over to Doctor Banner who hadn’t done much more than stare at you with a concerned expression bordering on panic.

Stark pressed his fingers to his forehead, “Barnes got triggered on his mission and has infiltrated the tower. We have reason to believe he’s after you.”

You gaped at him. That didn’t make any sense. You weren’t important, at least not as important as one of The Avengers. “Me? Why me?”

“We’ve silently shut the building down and we’re working on evacuating the floors without anyone freaking out.” Tony went on, ignoring your questions, “He doesn’t know that we’re aware he’s here, and we’re trying to keep it that way.” Tony motioned towards a monitor, and the image of Bucky popped up on the screen.

Only he was in your room, and he was dragging his fingers over the picture of the two of you that was perched on the nightstand. They way his fingers smoothed over the glass, the slight pinch in his brows as if calculating instead of recalling. It was like he’d never seen it before in his life. Like he had no connection to the image of himself.

It was a picture he had taken, his arm extended and a smile on his face with your lips pressed to his cheek. You had meant to take it down and stuff it in the box under your bed with all the other memories you had hid from sight, but it was just too painful. You needed something to hold onto.

You watched through the screen as he moved around your room, taking note of certain things and taking careful precautions to ensure that anything he moved was set right back in place. It was eerie to watch a man who was once so comfortable in your space tread with so much hesitance. Like it was the first time he’d been in the space all over again.

“Y/N.” It was Steve’s gentle timbre that brought your attention away from the screen this time. He tried to smile, though it was clearly forced. “We need you to lure him down towards the lower levels. We have to get him to a room where we can better contain him. If he finds out we know he’s back and not… him, then he could snap.”

“You want to use me as bait? For the Winter Soldier?” You stared at them both with wide eyes, panic blooming in your chest. “This is insane!”

Steve sighed, “Y/N… Bucky told me about the incident that happened in the beginning of your relationship.”

Your attention zeroed in on the blonde’s words, your breath hitching.

“He told me what could’ve happened… and what didn’t.”

You walked down the corridor of the Stark tower office floor heading back towards your desk from a late night research meeting with a few of your coworkers. You had decided to stay later than the others so that you could collect and organize the information you needed for the meeting with Mr. Stark the following morning. It was very late, and you were tired, the heels you wore had begun to irritate the soles of your feet hours before.

You clutched the files you collected in your arms, heels clicking on the glossy floors and echoing into the dimly lit corridor. So dim that you didn't see the silhouette of the man standing just feet from you until it was too late.

You only saw a flash of silver before the door beside you was torn open and you were roughly shoved inside. Cleaning supplies clattered onto the floor, spilling liquids over your feet as you cried out. A hand clamped over your mouth, and your head hit the wall with a thunk.

Stormy blue eyes stared at you, cold and unfeeling. Eyes you had seen just days before smiling at you and filled with life.

Your lips moved to say his name against the cool metal of his hand, but his grip on your face was nearly bruising. You could only stare back in fear and attempt to press your body further from him.

He didn't speak, only stared at you and kicked the door to the closet shut.

Fear was a living thing in your stomach, writhing as his eyes snaked down to your red heels and back up again. His head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to remember something. But his eyes remained cold and unrelentingly empty. His flesh hand came up to press a finger threateningly to his lips.

‘Quiet.’

You weren't stupid enough to scream, not with the way he was looking at you, with how close he was. When he removed his hand, you did exactly as he wanted. Silence hung in the small closet, suffocating you. Would he kill you? What did he want? Why hadn't he killed you already?

The cool metal of his palm slipped further down, wrapping around your throat and pressing against your thundering pulse. Your head pounded along with it, and a foggy feeling settled over your mind.

But your lungs still filled with air, and you remained aware. The pressure of his hand was ever present, but it was light enough not to cause real damage... Almost like he didn't want to hurt you.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the movement catching your eyes. His body leaned forward, his nose pressing into your neck and his warm breath hitting your skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, and that lick of fear heightened again. He was acting so strangely, and the longer it went on the more unsettling it was.

When he pulled away, there was a heat in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A hunger, and… and recognition.

“Hello, Beloved.”

“We know that he didn’t hurt you, and that he displayed… certain feelings towards you.” Steve’s voice brought you out of the memory, dragging you back to the reality at hand.

The one where he wants you to put yourself smack dab in the path of the Winter Soldier.

“You’re serious about this?” You blink up at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or not. Level headed as Steve was, you trusted him with your life. But this? This was terrifying and completely unexpected. Ridiculously dangerous.

“It’s the only nonviolent way we can think of. And we’re almost certain there’s no high risk for you.” Steve tried to give you a reassuring smile, tried to hide the hint of unease that shone in his tense shoulders.

“You’ve all lost your mind.” You laugh, sighing and raising your chin. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Apparently, so had you.

You stared at the metal doors of the elevator, your heart pounding with each toll of the floors passing. This was probably—no, was— the riskiest thing you’d ever done in your life. You trusted Steve and Mr. Stark, but your brain was trained to find the flaws in plans like this. And so many things could go wrong.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Steve said calmly into your ear, startling you. You’d forgotten they’d given you the earpiece. “I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll guide you through the compound and make sure you stay out of danger.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if they could see you.

“Bucky is leaving your room. We’re going to drop you off in the commons area of your floor. All you have to do is make some noise and then head for the stairwell. Just listen to me, and I’ll get you through this.” Steve sounded so confident in your ear, but it did little to soothe the nerves.

The elevator leveled out, and the doors quietly opened. The large living room opened up before you, unnervingly bright and welcoming despite the danger you knew lurked just down the hall. You stepped out onto the carpet, walking towards the kitchen. Your palms sweat, heart pounding, as you made your way up to the cabinets.

You just had to make some noise. Easy, right?

But your body wouldn’t move.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice called in your ear again, gently coaxing you from where he watched the cameras. “Make some noise, and then head for the stairs.”

You swallowed, nodding again, and reached with shaky hands towards the cabinet. You grabbed a bowl, and hesitantly set it down on the granite counter. The echoing pok of the ceramic felt too loud in your ears, like a gunshot.

“Good, now move quickly. He’s just down the hall headed your way.”

The words sent a chill down your spine… and something else followed. Something you’d never felt before.

You headed towards the stairs, but your feet felt like lead weights. Like you couldn’t move fast enough even though you knew you were going as fast as you could.

But you could hear the faintest scuff of boots coming behind you and the sound sent your heart into a frenzy.

You raced down the stairs, tripping a few times before righting yourself and continuing your decent down towards the lower levels. Your floor was four levels up from ground level, which meant you had six floors in total to descend before you could get to the containment floor.

Six flights of stairs being chased by The Winter Soldier. A superhuman man who was definitely faster than you, and probably wanted to do something terrible to you. Like a wolf hunting a sheep.

Oh God.

The thought only served to spur the panic rising in you. You kicked up your speed when the door slammed behind you, footsteps pounding after you as the dark silhouette of Bucky Barnes rounded the stairs two flights above.

He took the stairs four at a time, his long legs swallowing up the distance between you. The panic clawed its way up your throat in a strangled cry, and the sound just seemed to quicken his pace.

“I’m not fast enough!” You tried to keep your voice even, tried to keep it quiet in the echoing stairwell so that the soldier behind you would hear.

“You’re almost there, Y/N. Just keep up the pace. Two flights left and—“ but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You watched in shocked horror as Bucky’s figure leapt over the railing and plummeted towards the ground. He dropped several flights before his arm snapped out and wrapped around the railing. The sound of metal hitting metal rang out around you as the railing dipped under the crushing pressure.

He hauled himself back onto the stairs just before you. Those cold eyes found yours, dark hair framing sharp features, painting him into something primal. Something wild.

That feeling pounded through you again, skittering along your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You still couldn’t place it, not with him stepping towards you with a look that promised violence.

You heard Steve’s voice ordering something over the earpiece, but it was distant. It became clearer a moment later. “We’ve got a team heading in. Just… just hang in there.”

You swallowed, but your throat had gone dry in the presence of the assassin before you. His eyes held you in place as his towering form finally stopped a stair below you, leveling with you face to face. So close you could count the stitches in the Kevlar of his suit.

You felt your body shaking, heard your heart thundering in your ears as your chest rose and fell with each short breath you managed to drag into your lungs.

And he watched every move you made.

His head titled to the side exactly like it’d done the first time you’d been trapped with him. His gaze never left you, eyes wandering over your face and heaving chest before that faint look of recognition settled into those hollow eyes.

And then that heat you’d seen before consumed them.

He stepped forward, and you answered with a step back. For each one he took, you pedaled backwards until your body was plastered against the wall. When you tried to flee back up the stairs, his metal hand planted itself against the wall inches from your head.

You were utterly trapped.

Rough Russian left his lips in the softest whisper. The sound was the same as you’d heart him say before, though you didn’t understand it.

Not until now, as the earpiece Steve had given you translated his words as he spoke them.

“Hello again, Beloved.”

Those blue eyes bored into yours, as his other hand came up to brush your cheek with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of.

“He’s kept me from you for so long.” Bucky’s body leaned forward, caging you against the wall. His metal hand remained pressed against the wall beside you, and the other dragged across the skin of your neck and shoulder in an almost reverent manner.

Bucky’s— no, this wasn’t Bucky. This was the part of Bucky he kept farthest from you. This was a man known for cruel, unimaginable violence. An assassin known by reputation around the world by both hero and criminal alike and feared by all. This was the Winter Soldier.

Winters lips brushed your jaw, stubble tickling the column of your throat as his voice rumbled against your skin. “Kept you to himself. Never let me touch you. Worried I’d damage you, Beloved. Couldn’t see you needed me.”

His teeth nipped at your skin, and a shiver rolled down your spine in answer. That feeling tugged at your mind again, spurred by his words. But still, you couldn’t place it. Not with your mind consumed by his statements and barely contained yearning.

When his head lifted to find your eyes again, the fingers of his right hand tangled themselves in your hair and pulled hard enough to have your scalp stinging. His next words were guttural and biting, “And then he let you go.”

Winters grip loosened a bit, but his hold on your hair remained. “He pushed you away, and then that god tries to take you from me?” His eyes held you, demanding your utter attention as his head shook slowly, “You don’t belong to him.”

Tugging your lip between your teeth, you clenched your eyes shut. God, you wished Bucky would say that to you. Having Winter here saying these words with Bucky’s voice, Bucky’s face. Touching you with familiar hands…

Heat had begun to pool low in your belly.

The words were spoken in English. “Open your eyes.”

There was no room for objection in his voice, so you did as he said. With his jaw was set in an angry line, and those blue eyes boring into your soul, he leaned in closer. “He thinks that being with you is too dangerous, that you aren’t safe with… with us.”

“What?” Your heart hammered in your chest at his words. It was the first real reason as to why Bucky had broken up with you.

Those silvery blue eyes zeroed on your lips as he spoke again. “He thinks we can’t protect you, that I’ll hurt you. That somehow being further from you keeps you safe from what comes with being what we are.” His metal hand left the wall in favor of brushing over your lower lip and trailing the cool tips of his fingers down to the dip of your breasts and back up to the column of your throat. “I’d never hurt you, not the way he has. Not if you didn’t want it.”

“W-what do you mean?” You just knew he was picking up on how your heart beat harder as his fingers trailed over your skin. Or the way you kept shifting on your feet to stave off the heat thrumming in your veins with an all too familiar want blooming and begging for his hands to explore more.

The faintest hint of a smile graced his face as he gave your hair another gentle tug, then loosened his grip once more. “You like this. I’ve seen how you react with him. How you quietly treasure the marks he leaves on your skin even when he feels nothing but guilt.” That metal hand slipped over your throat again and pressed on your neck exactly as he’d done the first time you’d seen Winter. Your head spun at the pressure, but you could breathe easily under the cool press of his palm as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “I see how badly you wish he’d touch you with this hand,” he squeezed your neck and loosened it quickly, “How badly you want those marks. How badly you need me.”

You had no words. Nothing to say as he wrung out the truth you’d thought was hidden from him— from Bucky.

Bucky was notorious for avoiding any situation that would make him use the metal arm. He would much rather let it hang there, or act as if he didn’t have it at all. That included when the two of you would get intimate. He never dared to bring it anywhere near you no matter how many times you’d reminded him it was fine, that you weren’t afraid of it. He outright refused to allow it to touch your delicate skin, to let such a catalyst for agony so close to something as precious as you.

Winter knew that you’d secretly craved to feel the cold metal in contrast to his warm skin when he held you. He knew that you would always find it more satisfying when Bucky would lose himself and get rough with you when things got heated. How his flesh hand would leave bruises on your thighs or hips to keep you steady as he thrust himself deeper.

Just the thought had you aching, and here was Bucky’s darker half offering you everything you’d ever wanted.

You were losing your fucking mind.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, but the words were flimsy and meaningless. He knew the truth, but that didn’t mean you had to say it aloud.

His metal fingers dug into your jaw, his grip near bruising as he tilted your head up to level your eyes with his. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dollface.” His lips were a hairs-width away, his warm breath fanning over your face.

The scent of him was intoxicating, muddling your mind even further with heady leather and metal invading your nose. The hint of that aftershave you’d missed so much since Bucky broke your heart.

Winter was tearing you apart at the seams.

“Please,” you whispered. Please what? You didn’t know. You could hardly think straight. That feeling was so strong, thrumming along with your pulse and the ache for something. Anything.

“Tell me I’m right.” He mumbled against your skin. Soft lips, a vast contrast to his rough demeanor, to the calloused hand that remained tangled in your hair, trailed down your cheek. “Tell me that you want me. Not the pathetic excuse for a god, or him. That you want me.”

His metal hand released your face, drifting over your neck and dragging over the left side of your chest. He circled once, thumbing over your nipple with a knowing look filled with every sinful promise known to man.

And then he went lower and lower…

His fingers caught the waistband of your leggings, the chill of his fingers raised goosebumps across your stomach, only serving to worsen that burning need.

“Doll,” a command and a question wrapped in one word.

All you had to do was admit your darkest most guarded secret. Confess, and he would give you what you wanted most. What Bucky was too afraid to do.

You opened your mouth, the words tumbling out as he gave your hair another tug.

“I want you.”

That smirk grew just a fraction more, his fingers slipping past your waistband and toying with the hem of your panties.

Fuck, did you wish you’d gone commando today.

“Who am I?” He asked, teeth nipping down your neck hard enough to know they’d leave marks. “I want you to say it, Y/N.”

Those fingers slipped further, rolling over your aching clit in a teasing stroke before he pulled them away again.

If he wasn’t a literal assassin, you’d consider strangling him.

“For fucks sake,” you gripped his arm, your voice unfamiliar in your own ears, ragged and broken. “Winter, please.”

He didn’t waste time, deft, cool fingers dipping into your core with confidence. Soothing that aching heat.

Fuck.

His thumb circled slow as he pumped his fingers, his mouth leaving wet kisses along your jaw up to your lips where he paused long enough to catch a glimpse of your face. You knew you looked like an utter mess, but those blue eyes showed nothing but twisted delight. He leaned forward and tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, bitting hard enough to make you groan.

Winter’s answering grunt of approval urged you further towards the edge of oblivion those perfect metal fingers were working you towards.

God you were so close. Each movement, every touch and bruise he left on your skin pushing you closer and closer. Just a bit more, a fraction more and you’d—

His fingers wrenched away, gone in an instant.

Your eyes, closed from the pleasure just moments ago, snapped open just before the doors to the stairway above and below you burst open. Floods of agents filed through the doors, and a gun fired.

The sharp sound echoed in the confined space making you flinch. Winters back pressed you against the wall, a solid shield of muscle keeping you out of harms way.

Then the weight was too heavy. His body crushing you as he slumped toward the floor. You screamed, immediately thinking the worse as your eyes searched his form in a panic.

But you found no blood, thank God.

“He’s fine, Y/N.”

Steve’s hand on your shoulder had you flinching back, head snapping to his suit clad form. “The gun—“

“It’s just a tranq. I promise, Bucky will be fine.” His face was the picture of practiced reassurance.

A horde of agents rushed forward and cuffed Winters hands and dragged his unconscious body out of the stairwell and further towards the confinement room. Steve remained with you, his eyes flicking to your neck a few times and checking you over to make sure no serious damage had been done.

When you’d gotten yourself back to your room away from the prying eyes and the relentless questions, the reality of what had happened slammed into you.

You just let the Winter Soldier finger you in a fucking stairwell.

And you liked it.

Plunging your fingers into your hair, you took a shaky breath. What the fuck were you thinking? Had you lost your damn mind? Bucky broke up with you three months ago! You were done; over, moving on. He could remember this, for Christ sake! How would you explain it?

Panic writhed in your stomach, but so did the faint ache of need that reminded you of what had just happened mere minutes ago.

The feeling of his metal hand on your skin, the feeling of those fingers working you perfectly and the pressure of his bruising grip.

And that feeling that you couldn’t place.

But now you had a word for it.

From the thrum of your heart as he chased you down the stairs, the promise of violence and sinful pleasure in his eyes. The roughness of his actions…

It was the thrill.

You liked the chase. You liked how rough he was. The delicious blend of panic and pleasure.

And he’d been interrupted before you got the release you’d craved. That you needed.

Frustration boiled to the forefront of your mind, a dozen different strategies with it.

He’d made you confess your darkest secret only to leave you high and dry.

And damn him if he wasn’t going to finish what he started.

[blueberri-blu]

Learning You...

Raph ♡

[Bayverse] Slowly getting to know Raph ♡

Leo ♡⁠˖ Donnie ♡⁠˖ Mikey ♡⁠˖

Meeting him...

He rescues you from some foot soldiers wanting to get some extra cash

At first, he's angry, thinking you'll run off

He's already on the defense, immediately saying "What! Yer not gonna thank the monster that saved ya?"

You just look up at him in surprise and say "well I was going to until you got all passive aggressive"

And he tries to suppress his shock that

1, you're talking to him,

2 you weren't scared of him and

3, that you talked back to him

Raph just sorta half laughs at you and says "Well shit, ya got me there doll"

He "begrudgingly" walks you home

And after that you ask for his number, which he gives

Befriending Him

You two are sass and sass

Always going at one another, you are much calmer however

He'll invite you to train with him (lifting weight, etc.)

Whenever he gets mad, he'll go to you to vent

You may even get a punching bag for your apartment so he can vent and punch

You put him in his place whenever goes overboard with the insults

Or you give him a genuine hurr look and he'll stop

I personally think Raph cooks very well

So he'll try out recipes with you

Not around his brothers tho, so they don't see him all soft

He might teach you how to knit

As one of his only friends, he wants you safe even if he won't admit it

So, he'll teach you some basic self defense skills, and let you use them on him

All in all, as a friend, it takes time for Raph to trust you, but once he does, he is an absolute sweetheart (most of the time)

First Date

These sessions of self defense usually include

Lingering stares

Bashfully looking away

and Blushing at the smallest of touch

These drive Raph absolutely insane

His confession probably takes place when you two are blowing off steam sparring together

You walked into the layer a bit upset, having had a bad day

And when you got the, Raph was already pissed

(he has been trying to think of ways to ask you out, and his brothers ideas aren't good enough)

So, you two are sparring and you start getting up close and personal

Finally, Raph ends up pinning you down

And you see just how mad he is, so you ask him about it

And in the heat of the moment he just yells

"Can't find a good fucking date to take you on!"

You both freeze

Raph is shitting bricks, having gone pale and has a face of utter horror

You are just as shocked and staring at him, overwhelmed

You finally move to close the space

And give him a kiss on the cheek with, "Well, I recently took a trip to Joanna, so we could hang at my place, watch movies and knit"

Raph feels as though the weight of the world was just lifted off of him, he is in complete disbelief, but accepts

He comes to your home 15 minutes early with his needles

He greets you a little awkwardly and asks to borrow your kitchen, you let him

And he makes the absolute best dish ever

As you eat you pick a series to watch (hells kitchen)

And as you two eat, you and Raph yell at the TV and criticize along with Gordon Ramsey

Once your done eating you each start knitting

Or you watch him knit

At the end of the night, he's done with his little project

It's a little tapestry knitted to look like his mask framed

He helps you hang it up

And gives you a goodnight kiss good bye

After this, he is all but floating back to the lair, just content that you share his feelings

Dating Him

As long as you've been able to cultivate a proper and close friendship with him before you start dating, he isn't as rough around the edges as you'd think

There are somethings he still hasn't told you

But those will come with time and patience

Dating Raph means Actions > Words

Although he'll call you things like Doll, Doll face, Babe, and even Sweetheart (in private)

He mainly shows his love through trying to solve your problems, similar to donnie

And really appreciates quality time

And from you, he'd really appreciate words of affirmation

Raph wants you to not only tell him, but show him you really love him

Private cuddles and sweet nothing's are his favorite

You laying on his chest while he knits

Him cooking your favorite meal to take for lunch

If you ever need help with heavy lifting, he near teleports to you

Can't open a jar? He's there Can't seem to lift the couch to mop? He's there Wanna rearrange your furniture? He's there

Even though Raph acts like he is bothered, he takes pride in taking care of you

He wants you to know just how meaningful you are to him

And if you stay up late enough while you two cuddle

You'll hear him express just how much you mean to him

"I know I don't say this often but, to me yer irreplaceable. Nobody makes me feel the way you make me feel. It's like ya have some sort of calming spell around ya. I really appreciate ya sweetheart"