#i return with a shitty open ofc

[freakassfemme]

Can we have Abby taking care of needy reader after a long day of work 🙂‍↕️she just wants her brain to the off

LMFAO yeah ofc I can <3 this is literally the easiest request in my inbox rn, im glad we're all coping this way

manhandle/after work with abby [drabble] ₊ ⊹ ೀ

You weren't a stranger to this, really. It was easiest to split your thoughts in two like this, to let the tension go from your shoulders and focus on something different, something more tangible and pleasant that gave your brain that immediate satisfaction that it so desperately craved.

"Fuck, baby, look at you --"

Abby's voice purred through her otherwise silent stadium dorm, her hands tangled in your hair and coaxing out the sweetest little praises in return.

You kneeled before where she sat on the edge of her bed, one of her legs viciously bouncing as she tried to keep her cool. Your mouth worked itself over her strap, hands grasping at her thighs, her hips, the base of the toy, anything you could find to satiate your needs. Every hit to the back of your throat, spurred on by the desperate bucks of her hips, made you moan and whine in ecstasy. She pulled your hair up, forcing you to maintain that piercing eye contact with her.

Breathe. Holy shit, you need to breathe. Fuck, she's pretty.

Your head was almost entirely blank at this point, just focused on maintaining your god damn consciousness while Abby's hips abused your straining throat. Every grunt she pulled from you made her groan, say something even dirtier than before that had you squirming below her and making more obscene sounds.

"Shit, you like that, huh?" She asked. Abby was panting, so out of breath just from the sight of you, so eager to please and to be pleased, that she couldn't help but smirk at each of your little reactions. It was easy for her, to make you feel like it was your first time with her all over again, to pull that enthusiasm and desire from you after all these years like it was nothing.

"You like when I make you take it, baby?" She groaned around the words. She held your head in place, bucking into your mouth while you whined and failed at nodding around the silicone, spit dripping down the corners of your mouth and on to your thighs. You hummed instead, your lips curling into a shy smile around her strap.

Yeah, she couldn't handle that.

Abby pulled away, ripping herself from your mouth in a way that left your throat even more raw, yet you still whined, already hungry for its return.

"Shh, shh, I know," she purred, scooping you up into her arms and spreading you out on to the bed, ass up. "I know you need it sweetheart. 'M gonna give it to you, I promise, sweet girl."

And god, the way she manhandled you -- picked you up so effortlessly, had no issue getting you just how she wanted you even when your legs were like jelly, it made you melt. She didn't make you do anything in return except open up and accept what she offered. Not when you were like this, when you had come home in near tears, unable to stop the words that practically vomited out of your mouth about the shitty fucking day you had.

Abby made it so easy for your racing mind to go still, guiding you through it with gentle touches, just gave you exactly what you needed and filled anything you'd let her. It was so easy to be stupid for her, to nod and babble when she pulled your hips up with one hand, running her thumb on her other hand over your needy and warm slit, laughing softly at the way it clenched around nothing, just as desperate for her as the rest of you was.

Breathe, breathe breathe breathebreathebr--

Your thoughts were fucking shredded into emptiness as Abby bottomed out in one fell swoop, pushing into you with a groan that had you convinced she could feel how tight your unprepared cunt was around her. A guttural moan ripped from your throat and echoed into the mattress, and your hand flew back, searching for hers.

And Abby knew you so well, hers was already waiting, catching your wrist and interlacing your delicate fingers in her calloused ones.

"That's my girl," she whispered, watching your back relax and arch against the bed, falling limply into her hand. She rolled her hips against yours experimentally, swearing at the responsive whine you pushed out. Her hips moved on their own, syncing into a familiar pattern that had your toes curling and head dizzy in no time.

"I've got you, I've got you, baby," she chanted as broken, babbled cries fell from your lips. Her other hand came around to cradle your jaw, pulling you up so she could kiss the side of your cheek, behind your ear, down your neck as she thrusted into you.

"Just let me do it for you, baby. I've got you."

[zweiginator]

What if divorced!art gets dragged to a club one weekend by his foundation-buddies and he obviously doesn’t want to but he forces himself and then it turns out that escort!reader is also there with her friends and they see each other outside of «work» for the first time… And her friends doesn’t know about her escorting so maybe they recognize him and maybe she goes to talk to him because her friends says she should «flirt more»🤭 And then ofc he fucks her in the dirty club bathroom

divorced!art upset because he hasn't seen you in weeks. everything has been busy since he hit the ground running with tennis again. practice after practice, signing sponsorship deals, galas and charity fundraising. and you had been busy too. art didn't know this, but you're a student as well. you didn't tell him not because you didn't want to share your life with him, but because it made you feel juvenile. of course, it's university and you're almost finished with your degree after five and a half years instead of the usual four--but you still feel dumb talking about that part of your life with him. for you to bitch about group projects and essays about political science while art is upset about custody battles and petty divorce politics--it feels trivial.

but your friends want to celebrate the semester being freshly over. just a few more summer classes for you and you will finally graduate. you'll finally get to hang up your hat and say goodbye to escorting. to that taboo little secret that's been dragging your eyes into sunken purple holes for the past fourteen months.

and your friends don't know, of course. it's impossible to explain to a group of girls whose parents pay for tuition and books and groceries. gas, clothes and even the designer heels they wear to the club they're standing in right now--that you need to do this. for money. to survive.

no, it isn't ideal. but this is the real fucking world and sex sells.

so they think you're prudish. they've never seen you have a boyfriend or flirt because that's your job every other day of the week. to pretend to be in love. to fuck lonely assholes and pretend to care about their lives. to believe them when they say they aren't a bad husband. that men have needs.

they urge you to flirt with men at the bar. but like always, you're just not interested. and all the men in this shitty tavern-bar-turned-college-club are all the same. middle-aged men who shoved their wedding bands in their back pockets to pick up pussy from a doe-eyed girl in her twenties.

none of them are remotely attractive. and you're thanking your lucky stars that you don't recognize a single one of them.

your friend taps on your shoulder. "there's one hot guy here. you may recognize him. he's kinda famous."

you down the rest of your drink. "oh really? i doubt i'd be interested."

but she points to a man leaning against the bar way off in the corner. sad eyes and salt and pepper hair that was once dirty blond; you've seen his baby pictures. he's tall and in love with you and you with him and you could strangle him right now because he hasn't returned your calls or texts in over five days.

"art donaldson." your other friend sighs. "he's a tennis player and i'd fuck him if i didnt have a boyfriend."

it's then that art turns around. likely feels the eyes of six girls burning into the back of his skull. he's holding a beer bottle and he looks forlorn, his typical woe is me demeanor that makes him so fucking attractive to you. lights up that neanderthal part of your brain that makes you want to fix the unfixable.

and then he smiles. it makes you blush and your friends, not knowing the tendrils of your history together that have now become rooted in the ground beneath you, tell you to go for it.

"he's staring right at you."

you know that. art knows not to make it clear he knows you; it would open up that whole can of worms.

so he waits for you to come to him and you pretend to be nervous which isn't that hard because you are already.

when you get to him, he whispers in your ear.

"they don't know about your job, im assuming?" he wants to wrap his arms around your waist but he refrains.

"they don't. but they know you, and they're very fond of you. they want me to flirt more."

art flags down the bartender. he gets you a gin and tonic, remembering how you liked the one he made for you that first night at his hotel room. you were just trying to make him feel better.

"well im glad im the lucky man." he sits down on a stool and hooks his leg around the stool next to him to bring it closer. he motions for you to sit and your friends are all staring at you but pretending they aren't.

"me too. although i don't know how much you deserve it." you take a sip. "given how you haven't responded to my calls in awhile."

art takes your drink from your hand, sets it down. he rests his hand on your lower back.

"im sorry honey. i haven't been meaning to be an asshole. there's a lot going on with tennis and everything."

you run a hand through his hair. "i get it." you feign a frown. "you just may have to make it up to me." and when you uncross your legs, art can see your thong. he tenses his jaw.

"i do need to make it up to you, don't i?" he takes a swig from his beer. "i'll tell you what." he glances around, at the bathroom door swinging open. "why don't i go to the bathroom to freshen up and you come check on me in a few minutes, yeah?"

he's so close you can smell the beer on his breath. you nod and he goes toward the bathroom.

your friends want to come over and ask you all about it, but then you're knocking on the bathroom door with your special knock. the one that only you and art know.

he pulls you inside, and the bathroom is dingy with a flickering light and graffiti on the walls. drawings of dicks and crude words but art sits on the toilet seat.

"c'mere." he reaches out to you and you go to him. a pavlovian response that makes you so fucking wet to be near him. to be on his lap like you're supposed to be. he kisses you like he missed you because he has. he's not supposed to. his lips trail wet, hot kisses up your throat and he's greedier than usual. dragging your pussy over his throbbing erection. he's only wearing his briefs on his bottom half and you tug at his shirt because you want to see all of him. feel all of him. he does the same to you. panting into your mouth because his cock rests between your folds. nudges against your clit as you grind on him.

"fuckin' ruined pussy for me." he throws his head back and you grab his jaw to kiss him. sloppy and disgusting but you love the taste of him. how your lipstick melds into his saliva. drips down his neck like you're a vampire taking him for everything he fucking has.

"yeah?" you rake your nails down his chest and take his cock out. it's bare against your pussy, your panties pushed to the side.

"nothing turns me on anymore. nothing gets me off. only you. that tight fucking cunt."

he never talks like this. so crude. but you love drawing it out of him. milking those dirty words as you stroke his heavy cock for him. people bang on the bathroom door but neither of you fucking care.

you sink down on him. you do it all at once. you're addicted to how his hips spasm and his eyes roll back and he lets a strangled moan-groan hybrid escape him. he holds onto the flesh of your ass as you fuck him.

the porcelain of the toilet creaks unsteady below you and you're completely on top of him, your feet behind you as you fuck him harder and harder. but he asks for more because he wants you more.

"fuck me--fuck me--" he repeats it over and over. guides you up and down and up and down his cock from base to tip. "your pussy was fucking made for me. i need it, i need it--"

his mouth hangs open and you can't believe he's yours like this. you want him to cum but then again you don't because then he can't be inside you anymore. and that's precisely where you want him.

his jaw is tense and his neck pulses with his heartbeat as he presses his forehead to yours.

"i want you--" a moan. "to hit me. i want you to fucking claim me."

so you smack him, and his arms wrap tight against your waist because he's cumming and he wants it to stay like this forever. but if it can only be a few more minutes, that will do too.

[joelsmochi]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ hi . . . this is my masterlist ᯓꜝ taglist

series ꪆৎ

every man gets his wish ⤷ f!pornstar!reader x joel miller •｡ joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time, and opts to be her first collab... are the two willing to let their relationship evolve into more than just lust, or will joel's sudden possessiveness put too much strain on the relationship?

dirty lies ⤷ f!reader x pre apocalypse!joel •｡ after being away at college for four years, joel's best friends daughter returns to her childhood home for a summer that just so happens to be next to his. seeing you all grown up and nearly unrecognizable, joel finds it hard to ignore your flirtation.

come get this pollen ⤷ f!reader x beekeper!joel •｡ while getting ready for a date, sarah discovers her best friend has a crush on her dad, joel miller – who is obviously beekeeping age.

one shots ꪆৎ

there you go | you poor thing ⤷ f!reader x post apocalypse!joel •｡ feeling a little surprised at your forwardness, joel finds himself wanting to take care of you word count: 7k total

closer ⤷ black!f!reader x tortured artist!joel •｡ joel hits a creative block with a mural, leading him down a road of discovery and intimacy in ways he's never felt before word count: 5.3k

diet mountain dew ⤷ f!reader x boyfriends dad!joel •｡ you want to get over your shitty boyfriend. luckily his father has no problem helping you do just that word count: 5.5k

be the boss ⤷ ofc x javier peña •｡ once he meets you, javier just can't get enough word count: 9.1k

playing dangerous ⤷ f!criminal!reader x javier peña •｡ what was meant to only be an arrest turned into a slap on the wrist… or should i say ass? word count: 4.9k

‎warning: my blog mainly consists of 18+ works. i cannot prevent you from reading my work, however if you are under the age of 18, please do not interact. that includes liking, commenting, or reblogging my stories. this is for my safety and yours. by opening and engaging with my works you are confirming that you are at least 18 years old. enjoy :)

this is a sideblog, my main blog is yrself | about me

[rockstvrdotcom]

Hi! I was the one who recommended the Toby story and I LOVED it! (You're definitely one of my favorites if not my favorite creepypasta writer atm) I was wondering if I could make another request? Y/N trying to top Toby (more in a bratty way than an actual wanting to top way) but little did she know how shitty the day has already been for him because of one of the missions slender had sent on him and he really wasn't in the mood for her shit. And things just get rough from there 🥰 Also if you start an anon list can I be 💤anon?

☆ // IM GONNA FUCK YOU UNTIL YOU'RE SORRY, SWEETHEART! ✿⪼

aww tysm for the sweet words! it really warms my heart knowing you enjoy my writing, and ofc yes i'll add u to my anon list, i never originally planned on making one so ty for the idea!!

im not sure who the artist of the image is, if somebody finds out please tell me so i can credit them! i tried reverse google search but it didnt work D: i found the image on pinterest

im also so sorry for the super late post, shit has been a lil wonky lately and i recently js got my shit together LMAO, ill be back to posting.

CW: rough sex, choking, also degradation, overstimulation, brat taming

you were sat on the couch in the living room of the mansion. the rest of the creepypastas were either out on missions, or doing whatever the hell they were doing. slender was visiting his brothers, so you were all alone, free to do whatever you wanted to.

you sat there, awaiting for a certain someone to return. your hands were inbetween your thighs, rubbing at your clothed pussy. something about the fact that you could possibly get caught by somebody, toby or not, turned you on. but toby was expected to return from his mission first.

right on cue, you heard keys jingling around in the knob of the front door. you quickly repositioned yourself, pretending you were watching tv. the door opens and you turn around, seeing none other than toby. you greeted him, on purposely bending over the couch a little too far so he could see a peak of your boobs, only to be met with a stone cold stare. you were planning to get him to fuck you some way and when you saw him walk past you and into the kitchen, you realized it may be harder than you thought it would.

you trailed behind him, following him into his room. he looked over his shoulder, grunting in annoyance.

you took his shoulders and held him to the wall, leaving gentle and lustful kisses on his neck. you could tell he was bothered by something, yet you decided to continue anyway. you kissed and kissed until you pushed him past his limits. he escaped from your grip, walking away. you could see how tense he was, holding back from lashing out at you.

"i'm not in the mood for your bullshit, (y/n)." he almost yelled, pushing you onto the bed. you flinched, unsure what he was gonna do next. "you want this dick so fucking bad? you're gonna get it. and i'm gonna fuck you so hard until you're really sorry." he growled, flipping you over onto your stomach. he pulled your pants down and you yelped. you could hear the sound of him unzipping his pants.

you whined as you felt him go inside of you with no prep, but it slipped in easy with how wet you were. he thrusted in and out of you, his chest heaved as he fucked the absolute shit out of you. you moaned with each time he went balls deep inside of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. this wasn't like the other times you had sex, it was full of anger and frustation, yet lust at the same time.

you clenched around him as you felt his hand wrap around your throat, he took your chin with his other hand and shoved 2 fingers into your mouth. he slammed into you repeatedly while you choked on his fingers. tears streaked down your cheeks. you could feel your orgasm come nearer and nearer, and you whined around his fingers.

you cried out as your pussy spasmed around his thick cock, you came so hard your vision began to become blurry, white spots everywhere. toby still hadn't came yet, fucking you at an even faster pace now. still sensitive from your orgasm, you sob. maybe this was your punishment for bothering him. he leaned over you, still fucking and choking you as hard as he was before. he bit into your neck, almost enough to draw blood, and left kisses around the mark he had left on you.

toby removed his fingers from your mouth and roughly gripped your thighs as he continued to fuck breathy moans out of your mouth. "toby i just came- slow down." you pleaded, eyes watering from the overstimulation.

"shut the fuck up, you wanted this, slut." you almost felt another orgasm come with his words. you whimpered, clenching around him. he grit his teeth, your warm pussy tightening around him was almost enough to send him over the edge. he leaned over you and gripped your cheeks, kissing you roughly as he pounded into you.

his tongue played with yours, he tasted the tears streaking down your face as he bit your lower lip. "fuck, your pussy is so good.." he groaned as he continued to kiss you. you felt him throb inside of you, and you knew he was close.

"shit-" he said between clenched teeth as you felt him release his load inside of you. your eyes rolled back as you both orgasmed simultaneously, his dick twitching as his thrusting came to a stop. he bit at your neck to stop himself from moaning. you buried your face into the sheets.

he lightly squeezed your ass, then put his dick back in his boxers. he picked you up bridal style then placed your head gently on the pillows, pulling the sheets over your naked figure. your eyes fluttered closed as he put his pants back on and left the room.

[sjsmith56]

Neighbourly

Summary: Bucky meets the new neighbour but it doesn’t go well at first.

Length: 5.4 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (named but not described), OMC (2 named characters, one described, one not)

Warnings: Cursing, Bucky being a bit of grumpy jerk at first, reference to bad marriage, ex-husband makes an appearance, Bucky’s inner voices chew him out a bit.

Author notes: This is quite fluffy.

🪟 💐 🍕

The first time they met was when a big crash from the hallway outside Bucky’s apartment door startled him. Then he heard the swearing even over the sound of his music.

“Fucking shitty paper bag!” yelled the female voice.

He stood at his door looking out the peephole, seeing a woman bent over picking up scattered groceries and muttering. Unlocking his door, he opened it, causing her to glance in his direction.

“Need help?” he asked.

There was a big sigh, then she looked up and hesitated when she made eye contact.

“No, I can handle it.” She bent back over, then looked over her shoulder. “Thanks anyway.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied and closed the door, returning to his book and his music.

The second time they met was about a week later when he heard three knocks on his door. Looking out the peephole he saw the same woman, facing his door. Unlocking his, he opened it and gazed down at her. She swallowed, as if realizing he was bigger than she originally thought, then scratched her head.

“I locked myself out and the super isn’t answering the door or my phone calls. One of the neighbours said you sometimes are willing to climb up the fire escape and … and break in.”

Bucky resisted the urge to smile but folded his arms over his chest.

“What’s in it for me?”

“What?”

“It’ll cost you.”

“How much?”

He shrugged. “How much you got?”

She clamped her mouth shut, as if attempting to stave off something from coming out of it, then shook her head.

“Never mind. I’ll figure something out.”

Turning away she headed for the stairwell, and he closed his door, locking it. That was when he heard the crying, and he slumped against the wall.

“Good going asshole, you made her cry.”

“I was only joking.”

“Yeah, she thought it was hilarious.”

Unlocking his door again, he went to the stairwell where she was sitting on the top step. As she heard him approach, she wiped her eyes with her hands and looked out the window at a building across the street. Silently, he sat next to her and fished out his handkerchief, handing it to her. She took it and wiped her eyes again.

“Sorry, I was trying to be funny, but it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed. “I don’t have much of anything, not even a job, and I burned through a good portion of my savings to move here, which is looking more and more like a stupid decision.”

“Divorce?”

“Something like that.” She sighed. “Can you help me?”

“Yeah, I can. Wait here and I’ll climb up there.”

She nodded and watched as he went down the stairs. A few minutes later, she heard her door open, and she turned around to see him waiting for her in her open doorway. Standing up, she walked towards the big man and entered as he stepped out into the hallway.

“I had to break the lock on your window, so I’ll head to the hardware store and pick up a new one. I can get you a new chain as well, as the one that’s on your door has seen better days.”

“Thank you,” she answered, then she put her hand out. “I’m Brooke.”

He shook her hand, noticing he had forgotten to wear his gloves. “Bucky.”

She nodded, then handed him his handkerchief back and closed the door, locking it. Bucky stood there for a moment, then put his handkerchief back in his pocket. Returning to his apartment he put his jacket and gloves on, and headed to the hardware store, more of a little hole in the wall operated by a bent over old man, Isaac. As the bell over the door tinkled with his arrival, Isaac came out from the back.

“Bucky, what do you need?”

“A new window lock and a door chain,” he replied, letting the old man search the cluttered shelves for them. “How are you, Isaac?”

“You know how it is for us elderly folks,” he chuckled. “Everywhere hurts but I’m not ready to retire so I work through it. Helps to own the building. If I had to pay the going rent for this size of store, I’d have been out of business years ago.”

“Well, I like your store. Reminds me of when I was a kid and I’d do odd jobs, like sweeping the floor, or cleaning out the storeroom.”

“You need a job, Bucky? If you know bookkeeping, I could use your help.”

“No, I’m on call for the Avengers and can’t commit to regular hours,” replied the super soldier. “My new neighbour needs a job. Maybe I should ask her?”

“A lady? Is she pretty?” Isaac peered up at Bucky with his watery eyes.

“Yeah, she is attractive.”

“You should ask her out. That would be neighbourly.”

“I just met her a week ago and I don’t think she’s looking for company,” answered Bucky. “I think she’s going through a breakup.”

The old man hummed. “That’ll be 8 dollars and 47 cents.” He watched as Bucky opened his wallet, taking out a ten-dollar bill. “Faint heart never won fair lady.”

“I’m not a coward, Isaac,” answered Bucky. “I just don’t want to pressure her when I don’t know her story.”

The old man dropped the change into Bucky’s hand and put the lock and chain into a small paper bag.

“So, start with coffee. That’s no pressure.”

“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

With a wave, he left the store and headed back to his place. It used to be so easy back in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Women wouldn’t leave him alone, especially when he was in uniform. But that was a lifetime ago and he wasn’t the same man. His anxiety made him clam up or say the wrong thing. A lot of women now were also suspicious of a man who came on too strong, usually with good reason. They sweet talked their way into a woman’s life then made her life miserable by trying to control her, equating it with being masculine. He huffed a little, angry at guys who believed in that alpha male shit.

“You’re working yourself up over it again. Let it go.”

He was getting bothered by thinking of it again and breathed deeply as he walked. Soon, he was at the door to his apartment building and headed up the stairs to his floor. Knocking on Brooke’s door he could hear music inside then footsteps before hearing the sound of her looking out the peephole.

“I have your new lock and chain,” he said, holding the bag up.

She opened the door and stepped back as he stepped in.

“Do you have any tools?”

She shook her head, and he headed back to his place, picking up what he needed. The door was ajar, and he stepped inside to see her unpacking a box of books.

“Me again.” He headed over to the window and unscrewed the broken lock, then lined up the new lock. “Do you have any toothpicks or matchsticks?”

“No, why?”

“I put them in the hole of the old screw, just to fill it in a bit and provide something for the new screw to grab onto. I think I have some. Give me another minute.”

He came back with some wood glue, and several toothpicks and broke them in half. He poured some glue into the holes left behind by the old screws, then stuffed the broken toothpicks into the small holes. After he fitted the new lock over it, he screwed it into place, testing it several times.

“There you go, almost as good as new. Now the door chain.”

She smiled at him and kept unpacking the box, although she glanced over several times as he replaced the door chain. When he tested it, he was satisfied and unlatched the new chain, then opened the door.

“All done.”

“How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“I broke the lock so nothing for that,” he said. “As for the chain … have coffee with me sometime. There’s a nice coffee shop about a block away. I just like regular black coffee so I’m a cheap date, even though it wouldn’t be a date. It would just be neighbours catching up on neighbourhood things.”

A slight smile crossed her face and she nodded.

“Okay, I’ll buy you a coffee. Tomorrow morning at 9:30?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, smiling. “See you then.” He stopped. “I almost forgot. The owner of the hardware store is looking for a bookkeeper. I said I would ask if you were interested. His name is Isaac and he’s a sweet old man. If you are interested just tell him you’re my neighbour.”

About 15 minutes later Bucky heard Brooke’s door open and close, and footsteps heading towards the stairwell.

“I guess she’s interested in the job.”

That night, Bucky was called for a mission, and he slipped a note under Brooke’s door explaining that he had to go out of town for work, apologizing for missing their coffee date. It would be another week before he saw her again.

When he returned it was late, he was exhausted, and he fell into bed immediately, still in his clothes. It was light when he woke up and he quickly had a shower, then went across the hall and knocked on the door. There was no answer and as he listened carefully, he couldn’t hear any signs of her being there. He went to the coffee shop, but she wasn’t there so he walked past the hardware store, glancing in and saw her at the counter. Opening the door, he stepped inside, the bell on the door announcing his presence.

“You’re back,” she smiled.

“You’re here,” he answered. Then he looked around, noticing the store wasn’t as cluttered as it had been. “What’s happened here?”

“I got the bookkeeper job, then Isaac asked if I could help him organize the store better, so we worked on it all week and this ….” She gestured all around her. “This is what we did. He asked if I wanted to work the counter as well, so I’ve basically got a full-time job now. What do you think?”

Bucky smiled, noticing how excited she seemed to be. “I’m happy for you. You and Isaac obviously hit it off well. Where is he?”

“He’s upstairs in his apartment having a late breakfast. I could call him for you, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. I was just hoping for that coffee date.”

“The date that isn’t a date, you mean.” She grinned. “Isaac told me you think I’m attractive.”

“I might have said something to that effect.” His face felt warm. “I guess I have to wait until you have a break.”

“Or, we could have a real date.” Now her face was warm. “I kind of owe you for the job. It’s only fair.”

“Tonight?”

“I’m off at 5, and I would like some time to get ready. Pick me up at 6:30?”

“6:30,” he smiled. “Do you like Italian?”

“Love it.”

“Until then.”

He felt a little self-conscious when he left but when he stepped out onto the street, he felt good that somehow, he managed to change a brief coffee date to a real one. Now, all he had to do was get ready. First, he stopped and picked up some flowers. Despite Sam telling him that men didn’t do that these days it was one habit that he really didn’t want to give up. He liked giving women flowers and he thought Brooke might appreciate the sentiment.

Next, what was he going to wear? Right now, his wardrobe was almost exclusively Tshirts, Henley shirts, and well-worn black or blue jeans. He looked down at his scuffed boots. They wouldn’t do. Perhaps a switch to nicer jeans and a button-down shirt would be good. His leather jacket was a little worn as well, so maybe a cloth one would be a good change, especially with the warmer weather. There was a little men’s wear shop on the next block. Perhaps he could go there, tell them what he wanted and not have to spend too much time deciding on colours and styles. When he found himself in front of the shop window, while looking at the mannequins he almost turned around and walked away but a man inside saw him and waved him in. With a deep breath, he opened the door and entered the shop. The man looked him over before speaking.

“Let me guess, you hate shopping for clothing but now you have to attend a special event and you don’t have anything nicer.”

“I have a date.” Bucky’s answer was brief and to the point since his anxiety had already increased. “It’s still casual but these clothes aren’t nice enough for that.”

“I see. What were you thinking?”

“Nicer blue jeans, a button-down shirt, cloth jacket, and nicer shoes than my boots. We’re just going to a little Italian restaurant I like. It’s nothing special but I want to look better than I do now.”

The man studied Bucky as he walked around him. “Do you know your size?”

He shrugged. “I just took what I thought looked right and tried them on. Then I bought extra so I didn’t have to come back. I have issues.”

“Would you allow me to measure you, properly? I promise to make it as quick as possible, but these clothes are a little snug and you want a little give in your clothing for comfort’s sake.”

“I just want solid colours, nothing patterned, or fancy. I’m just an ordinary guy.”

He asked Bucky to remove the leather jacket, then measured quickly around his chest, neck and back. He measured the left arm, noting the firmness of it but not saying anything. Then he measured Bucky’s waist and inseam. Quickly he picked out a couple of button-down shirts, showing them to Bucky, then a pair of dressier jeans and a pair of chinos. Taking them to the dressing room, he left them on the chair and stepped back.

“Try these on. If the shirts are a little snug, we can try a different cut, but I think you’ll like this. The chinos are nice for something a little dressier than jeans but still casual. We can pick out a jacket when you come out as well as a pair of shoes.”

Peeling off his clothes, Bucky put one of the shirts on then pulled the blue jeans on, looking at himself in the mirror. He went out to the front and the man looked at him approvingly.

“Okay, try the chinos.”

With a little sigh to indicate he was approaching his limit for patience; Bucky tried the other shirt and chinos on. Although he liked the feel of the pants’ fabric, they felt even tighter than his normal jeans, plus they were short, barely covering his ankle. It must have been evident on his face because the man found another cut and handed them to him. Reluctantly, he tried them, admitting that he liked the look. When he came out the man was pleased. He had a couple of cloth jackets for Bucky to try, helping to put them on, then stood behind him as the super soldier looked in the mirror, choosing the dark navy one. Finally, he brought several pairs of shoes out, but Bucky didn’t like their look and he didn’t want sneakers. The man brought out a dressier boot which Bucky tried on and nodded.

“I like these,” he said. “Now, tell me truthfully. Do I look good?”

“Yeah, you look really good. You’re a handsome man with a fit body. You should be wearing clothing that emphasizes that. Are you satisfied?”

“Yeah, I am,” smiled Bucky briefly. “I’ll take the jacket, boots, jeans, chinos and both shirts. Might as well have two looks, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” said the man. “Bring everything to the desk once you’ve changed and I’ll ring it up.”

Ten minutes later Bucky was walking home, balancing the flowers and his shopping bags in his hands. it cost more than $300 to update his wardrobe, which was highway robbery. In 1941, $300 would buy him more clothes than his closet could hold. But it wasn’t 1941 anymore, and he really did want to look nice for his date with Brooke.

When he arrived home, he took his new clothes out and hung them up. It would have been nice to wash them first, but the circumstances wouldn’t allow it in the time before he picked Brooke up. Then he took his other clothes off and had a shower, washing and conditioning his hair. When he looked in the mirror after, he wished he had time for a haircut.

“You’re fine. Put some of that product in.”

“Shut up.”

He shaved, for all that was worth as he would have a five o’clock shadow before the end of the night. Then he got dressed, deciding to go with the chinos. As he stood in front of the mirror again with his shirt open, he ran his hand through his hair. When he first got it cut, at that place that specialized in cutting children’s hair and keeping them happy while it was done, the stylist (are there no barbers anymore?) said to put the pomade on dry hair so his hair looked more natural. Gone were the days of slick shiny hair. Now, just about anything went in men’s hair styles except for slicked back, which apparently looked sleazy. Who was he to argue? Rubbing the pomade through his hair just like she told him, he styled it until he was satisfied and washed his hands, then did up his shirt and tucked it into the chinos.

He bought a spray to protect the boots from water damage and sprayed them as instructed on the can, coughing at the chemical smell, then leaving them to dry. The clock on the microwave showed 5:30. He sighed at having to wait another hour and put the TV on, watching the early news, turning it off after 5 minutes because it was all the same thing, trouble in the Middle East, global warming, and crime rates up in the New York area.

“Stop thinking negative thoughts.”

“It’s in my nature to think that after all the shit I’ve been through.”

“But you’re going on a date with a real nice woman. Put some music on.”

He breathed out heavily, then went over to his iPhone and opened it. He found his Benny Goodman playlist and started it, linking it to the Bluetooth speaker he picked up in a clearance bin, turning it up high enough to drown out the stupid voices in his head. Sitting in his armchair, he closed his eyes and let the music distract him, bringing him back to a simpler time. It must have worked because he noticed the clock on the microwave suddenly displayed 6:25. Turning it off, he put his phone in his pants pocket, slipped on his boots, slid a knife down beside his ankle, donned his jacket and picked up the bouquet of flowers. With his door locked, he took the two steps to Brooke’s apartment and knocked. There was no sound. He knocked again. That was when he heard the sound of a restrained whimper, followed by the whispered murmur of a man’s voice, audible only to his enhanced hearing.

“Stay quiet.”

Returning to his apartment he placed the flowers on his counter, then climbed out the window to his fire escape, taking it up to the rooftop. Quickly, he headed to the other side of the building and down the fire escape there, approaching Brooke’s window silently. Instead of coming down the stairs, he climbed on the outside of the landing and let himself drop, using his metal hand to grasp the railing, while his feet quietly slotted onto the open grate of the platform. Climbing over, he peeked in the window but didn’t see anything. Checking the window lock that he just installed the week before, he found it still locked, so the man obviously didn’t enter this way. He must have come in through the door. Pulling his knife out he carefully jimmied the lock without breaking it. Thank goodness for some of his assassin skills. Quietly, he lifted the window up and climbed into the kitchen, slipping off the boots so he didn’t make a sound. Calming himself, he listened for sounds then heard it; Brooke’s worried voice begging the man not to hurt her.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Brooke. Did I ever hurt you before? No, that’s not the type of man I am. I’m going to take you home. The city is too dangerous for you. If I can break in, anyone can.”

“No, I won’t go with you. We’re done, Ray. The papers were signed.”

“Don’t care. We promised til death us do part and I’m holding you to it, regardless of what some piece of paper says. Now pack.”

While the conversation was happening Bucky silently stepped closer to Brooke’s bedroom, until he was just outside the door. He pulled his cell phone out and dialled Brooke’s number; later he could explain why he had it, since she didn’t give it to him. It rang in the bedroom and the man picked it up, seeing the (unknown) as the number.

“Who is it?” Ray asked, angry.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Let me answer it.”

“No funny stuff,” he warned.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded in Bucky’s ear. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Bucky. Hit the floor.”

She looked at the phone and dropped while he leaped in and tackled the man, knocking him against the wall. Straddling him, Bucky grabbed the handgun the man was holding and turned it against him, aiming it at his forehead. Slowly, Brooke stood up, approaching Bucky and the man.

“My ex, Ray,” she said. “He found out where I lived, picked the lock on the door and was waiting for me when I got home from work.”

“Are you okay?” asked Bucky, without taking his eyes off Ray. “Did he hurt you?”

“Who are you? Brooke, who is this guy?”

She smiled. “My neighbour. He’s an Avenger. Perhaps you’ve heard of him, Bucky Barnes and no, he didn’t hurt me.”

“The Winter Soldier?” Bucky pressed the gun into the man’s forehead, shaking his head. “Are you going to kill me?”

“If Brooke wants me to,” he answered. “What do you say? I can take him out permanently and make it look like a suicide.”

“As tempting as your offer is, no,” she answered, then she dialled 911 on her phone. “I would like to report the breaching of a protection order. My ex-husband broke into my apartment and attempted to abduct me at gunpoint. My neighbour came to my rescue, but I need a couple of officers to take my ex into custody. I wish to press full charges.” She gave them her address, then sat on the bed. “They’re on their way. How did you get my number?”

“I checked you out,” answered Bucky. “Had a hunch you were leaving a bad situation. I can delete it if you want.”

She smiled. “No, keep it, but I get yours in return. Did you have reservations?”

“Yeah, but if you take my phone, you can change them to a later time, if you still want to go out.” She reached into his pocket, held it to his face to unlock it, and found the email confirming the reservation. Calling them, she changed it to an hour later. “You knew who I was.”

“Your left hand was visible when we shook hands. I kind of checked you out, too. Isaac said you were a kind man.”

Ray squirmed. “Wait, you were going out on a date? With him?”

They both looked at him as if he was rudely interrupting and he shut up, still looking at the gun in Bucky’s hand as if it would go off at any moment.

“You look nice,” said Brooke. “You dress up well.”

“I kind of went overboard and bought some new clothes,” replied Bucky, glancing at her. “You didn’t get a chance to get ready.”

“No, jackass here was all over me.”

“I’m not a jackass. Brooke, I love you.”

“No, you don’t, Ray. You wanted a mommy to look after you and cater to your every whim. I wanted a man who pulled his own weight and didn’t make me feel like a prisoner in my own home.” There was a knock on the door. “That should be the police. You can let him up now.”

She left and Bucky stood up, emptied the gun and put it on the bed, before offering Ray a hand.

“Leave her alone, Ray. Let her have her own life.”

“With you?”

“If that’s what she wants. I’m just her neighbour and maybe her friend. Whether it goes further than that will be up to her. But if I see you anywhere near her again, I’ll make it my business.”

He pushed Ray ahead of him, then alerted the officers that the gun was unloaded and on the bed. While one cuffed Ray the other went and retrieved the gun, placing it in an evidence bag. Brooke swore out the complaint, then thanked the officers as they left with her ex-husband. She looked at her watch.

“I’ll be ready in 15 minutes, if you want to wait for me,” she said.

“Yeah, just let me grab something from home,” said Bucky, pulling his boots back on. “I’ll be back right away.”

She left the door unlocked for him while he returned for the bouquet of flowers which still looked fresh. Letting himself in, Bucky looked for a vase in the kitchen, filling it with lukewarm water and pouring the plant food in, using a long spoon to stir it until it dissolved. Then he cut the ends of the plants off with his knife and arranged the flowers, bringing the vase into Brooke’s living room and placing them on the coffee table. He went back to the kitchen to lock the window he jimmied, checking it was still securely fastened. Brooke walked into the living room, putting a sweater on as she walked, and stopped at the sight of the flowers, while Bucky entered from the kitchen.

“You got me flowers,” she stated, seeming surprised.

He shrugged as he looked at the arrangement. “I always brought my dates flowers before the war. It’s old fashioned, I know.”

“I like it. Thank you.”

She beamed at him.

“Damn, she’s cute when she smiles.”

“You’re welcome. Shall we?”

She allowed him to open the door and walked out into the hallway first, as he followed her. Taking her keys out she locked it, then looked at the lock, remembering her ex-husband broke in.

“I can put a new lock in,” he said, taking a closer look at what she had. “These are relatively easy to pick. I can get you one that’s better.”

“Could you pick it?”

Shyly, Bucky smiled. “Probably. But I won’t, unless you want me to.”

“I’ll give you a key, since you’re a good neighbour.”

“I promise to use it only when necessary.”

They walked down the stairs, then he opened the door, letting her out ahead of him. Placing himself between Brooke and the street, Bucky offered her his arm and she took it. They didn’t talk on the short walk to the restaurant, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable for either of them. Once there the hostess seated them right away and asked if they wanted drinks. Bucky chose a beer, while Brooke chose a white wine. After studying the menu, they made their food choices, then waited for their drinks to be served.

“So, do you date much?” she asked.

“No. I think you’re maybe the third date I’ve had since I moved in to that flat.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she smiled. “I mean, you’re so charming at first acquaintance.”

She said it with a straight face then started to laugh. Bucky smiled with her, as their drinks arrived.

“Touché. I was kind of grumpy that day. I am really sorry that I made you cry. That was inexcusable.”

“You made up for it quickly,” answered Brooke. “Especially today. Although, I may have to move now that Ray knows where I live.” She sighed. “I signed a six-month lease as well.”

“I don’t think he’ll bother you again.” Bucky drank his beer. “I kind of told him if he showed his face around you, I would know and make it my business. That wasn’t too presumptuous, was it?”

She sipped her wine and shook her head. “No. I hope that’s just you being neighbourly.”

“It is. Once I update that lock on your door, I can also talk to a friend about a security system,” he said.

“Another Avenger?”

“Yeah, but he knows that stuff and would do it as a favour. You would just have to promise not to reveal his identity.”

“I’m good at secrets.” She smiled, sipping her wine, then looked towards the kitchen as the server brought their food. “This looks good.” She noticed the size of his pizza. “You going to eat all that?”

Bucky nodded. “High metabolism. Means I burn through food quicker.”

“Aah, that explains why you’re grumpy sometimes.” He paused, holding the first piece in midair. “You get hangry.” He shook his head, confused. “Hungry and angry, hangry. It started out as a pop culture term used by a certain chocolate bar for their commercials but apparently scientists have confirmed that a combination of low blood sugar and the hormones released when your stomach is empty can make you feel irritable.”

“Is she serious?”

“Seriously?”

Brooke nodded, then smiled. “We’ve all been there. I might have been a bit hangry myself, at the time. I don’t usually cry in front of strangers, which you were then.”

“And now?”

She looked at him seriously. “You’re a good neighbour who’s quickly approaching the friendship line.”

It was strange how good that made Bucky feel. His friendships were few and far between, usually forged over many weeks of acquaintanceship and shared experiences. All of his stronger friendships were with men, like Sam, and Isaac. Yori had been a friend, but still hadn’t spoken to Bucky since he confessed to killing the man’s son when he was the Winter Soldier. Leah … well, she was an acquaintance who pulled back as well, after he told Yori.

“Hey, are you still with me, Bucky?” asked Brooke. “You kind of went somewhere else for a moment.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he smiled, then picked up another piece of pizza. “I don’t have many friends. It wasn’t exactly a skill that my captors wanted me to retain. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

“You won’t.”

They talked of many things during their meal, and on the walk home, as Bucky carried Brooke’s take-out container of her leftovers. When they finally got up to her door and she unlocked it, Bucky handed the container to her.

“Should I kiss her?”

“No, you’re not even fully at the friend stage yet.”

“But I have to do something, and a handshake isn’t enough.”

“You’re somewhere else again,” said Brooke, looking up at him.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Just arguing with myself over whether a kiss goodnight is too much but a handshake isn’t enough.”

“I see.” She looked up at him. “Well, a kiss would make it weird and quite frankly, so would a handshake. How about a hug, a quick one?”

Without waiting for an answer, Brooke quickly wrapped her arms around Bucky’s shoulders and hugged him. He barely had time to put his arms around her back before she was pulling away, but she was right. It was better than a handshake and a kiss would have made it weird. With a nod of his head, he went to his door and unlocked it. They both waved, a little self-consciously, then stepped into their apartments and locked the doors. Strangely enough, they both leaned against the wall just inside their doors and wondered if perhaps someday a kiss would feel just right.

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One Shots Masterlist

[definitelynuwonhere]

“His Hazel Gaze”

I had Literature homework, asking me to create a haiku, and since my brain is literally just redacted I based it off the cowboy, cuz ofc I did. Now im capitalizing off of it by expanding the idea cuz I’m wired and have freewill

This won’t be in a traditional writing format cuz I’m lazy and literally just following the words that flow in fear of losing track.

———

PICTURE IT: Sophomore year, a new student is introduced, Samuel Collins, immediately catching, you guessed it, Tank’s attention. Well, honestly Asher, who then pointed him out to them. But of course they respond with a punch to his arm.

Sam was a good student, turned work in time, participated in class, but mostly kept to himself. Except for the times he’d gotten dragged by Asher to join them at their group table.

That’s when Tank really began to interact with him. It’s how they found out he liked vanilla ice cream, or how he owned every color of the same type of flannel, and that his eyes were brown, hazel brown.

They never really paid attention to those types of things, hell they barely knew their friend’s favorite colors, cept for Asher’s, because of his constant fights with Milo over blue gatorade and him saying it was “his brand”.

They never really cared, all until him. Suddenly they were keeping mental notes of the things he liked and didn’t liked, how he preferred podcasts over music, and horror to action movies. They knew it all. But probably their most favorite, is how his golden gaze sparkled in the sun.

It was into the first week of meeting him when they saw them, sun kissed by the star’s rays. Ash had asked (begged) him to join them up their usual spot near the cliff, using David’s dad’s pickup truck, the group had settled into a spot amidst the trees, popping open a few soda cans and snacks as they watched the busy city below them.

The sun was near setting, casting down its rays perfectly on their spot on the cliff. Sam had been laughing, at least it looked like it, with Asher, probably with his shitty jokes. His dark brown locks looked almost golden in the sun, and his eyes, having locked briefly with theirs, and him sending a smile their way. Left them almost still in place.

They shook themselves back to reality, sending a hasty half-smile in return, gulping down the rest of their cherry Dr. Pepper. He had a girlfriend, Alexis they think her name was. It was long distance, but even still. Plus, what would a charming southern boy want with them?

They got home that night, head clouded with all these conflicting thoughts and ‘ugh’ feelings, (their words, not mine) safe to say their were close to get pissed, and what better way to let out those feeling than through poetry (My darlin’s a literary student ok)

A haiku was their chosen format this time, the words seem to flow almost instantly as they sat there.

“Oh those hazel eyes

Shine caramel-like in hue

Look at what you do”

ALRIGHT IM DONE, I JUST HAD TO GET THAT OUT OF MY SYSTEM—

I FIND CRAZY HOW LITTH OBSESSION I HAVE ON HIM, AND YET HE’S THE ONE I WRITE ABOUT THE MOST

[spnbabe67]

Owner of an Empty Heart

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Summary: Tori and Dean are now in the same space after 3 months of no contact. Personalities clash and words are exchanged. Will Tori and Dean make it through?

Warnings: Smut, P in V, fingering, oral, body worship, praise, alcohol, drinking, slight tipsiness due to alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3751

Written for @spnkinkevents : 2024 Kink Bingo using the square 'Cowgirl'

Authors Note: Hey all, this is part 3 and the finale to my angsty mini-series. This miniseries has been my way of exploring how my OFC and Dean might interact in the overarching series I'm starting to write. So, if you are at all interested in Dean and Tori and hearing more about them, let me know!

Also, I don't condone cheating in the slightest irl. I am a big proponent of characters doing or saying things outside of your own personal values (within reason) for the sake of keeping their personalities and identities as true as possible

Tori wasn't sure her day could get any worse. She'd woken up to a dead cellphone, courtesy of the previous night's thunderstorm knocking out the power and frying the outlets in her room. A steady downpour meant once she returned from running errands around town she was soaked to her core and shivering hard enough to make her muscles ache. Thankfully, the downright shitty motel, infested with roaches and mold she used to stay low for the past week had scalding hot water and passable water pressure. Tori had savored the warmth, standing under the stream until she could see steam rising from her skin and the water itself started to turn chilly. 

The bathroom was thick with steam  clinging to the walls peeling with paint, and accumulating in a layer over the mirror. The towel was scratchy and itchy, removing what seemed like a layer of skin along with the water as she dried off, pulling on underwear and a pair of sweats that hung low on her hips, the elastic long since gone limp but the insides were soft like a cloud. She tugged a tank over her head, the cloth clinging to her dewy olive skin.

Leaving the sandpaper disguised as a towel, Tori padded out to the main room, damp hair loose and turning wavy in the air. The unsecured door allowed for the cool wind from the summer rain outside to sneak under the door, making the room deliciously chilly against her feverish body. With a bottle of Jack Daniels she managed to flirt her way into getting a discount on, Tori settled back on the questionably clean bed, flicking through channels alternating between various news sources and static until she landed on the Game Show Network. It's gonna be a long night.

Tori was three seconds from sleep to the sound of Pat Sajak's voice, the nearly finished bottle of Tennessee whiskey in a loose grip against her chest when a series of knocks sounded on the door. Her eyes cracked open to the dark, the only light was sourced from the late night gameshow on the grainy tv. The canned laugh track played softly as Tori, with a knife in hand, stumbled her way through the barely illuminated room in a hazy, dizzying blur.

Tori hissed a string of curses that came tumbling from her lips, pain blooming from her hip bone as she hit the corner of the table hard as she fell forward. Well, that's gonna leave a mark. The ache flared with each halting step toward the door. Had she been any more sober, Tori would have been more ashamed of how long it took her to remove the security chain, fingers seemingly unable to grasp the small, cold brass chain and ease it from the narrow channel; the deadbolt was less of an ordeal, giving way easier with a soft click.

Holding the knife behind her back, grip tight on the smooth hand-carved handle, Tori eased the door open, careful not to disturb the salt line she'd laid in a semicircle in front of the entryway. Out of all the shitty things that had happened to her in sequence in the past 12 hours, nothing could have topped seeing Dean Winchester standing on the other side of the door, soaked in rain.

"Tori?" Dean's voice was muffled, like she was underwater.

Tori blinked, stumbling back a step only to catch herself on the door jamb. I didn't think I drank enough to start hallucinating. After two blinks and Dean still stood there, looking more concerned by the second, Tori shook her head. "What are you doing here, Dean? How, how'd you find me?"

Dean’s brows furrowed, green eyes scanning her, catching on how Tori leaned against the door for support, cheeks flushed pink. "Are you drunk, Tor?" His words brimming with concern.

"I'm moderately functional." Tori quipped back, heart seizing at the familiar nickname. She looked past him into the pouring rain, how the droplets rolled off his leather jacket. 

She’d be lying if the sight of her former lover looking like the product of a hate-fuck between a drowned rat and a kicked dog didn’t invoke some joy in her drunken state. She huffed an exasperated breath, grabbing Dean by the arm and yanking him into the room. "Get the fuck in here before you get sick, dumbass."

Dean huffed a laugh, taking a step into the room looking around at the squalor in which she had been residing. He glanced back at her, rubbing the back of his neck. “So,” he trailed off, unable to look Tori in the eye. “How you been?”

Tori took a sharp breath in, swinging the door shut hard enough to make the window rattle, all sense of humor put out like dumping a lit candle in water. She slammed her knife down on the table. “Cut the shit. You didn’t answer my question: Why are you here? How are you here? The only person who knows…” Tori sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Sam.”

“Don't be mad at him.” Dean placated, shaking the excess water from his jacket.

“He’s really not who you should be worried about right now.” Tori shifted her weight onto one leg and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Look, Tor, can we talk please?”

Tori flung her arms out at her sides exasperated. “About what, Dean? About how you cheated on me? About how you called me, what was it again” She cocked her head to the side, putting her hand on her chin in mock contemplation, “Oh right, a whore who sucks the life out of people? You wanna talk about that? Then talk!”

Dean sighed, slumping down into the chair behind him, burying his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. I know better than to try and give you excuses. I just…I’m sorry. If I could take it all back I would.”

Tori wrapped her arms around herself, drying hair falling soft down her back and over her shoulders. Both of them fell silent, existing in an uncomfortable atmosphere, a tissue paper-thin bubble poised to burst should either of them move too quickly.

“Why?” Tori broke first. Voice softer than Dean had ever heard; vulnerability expressed by a woman who he had never seen even an ounce of self doubt from.

“Why what?” Dean braced his elbows on his knees, looking up at her, how the soft flow of ebony hair only enhanced the stunning features of her face. He could count on one hand how many times he had seen those dark locks freed from the confinement of the french braids she so often kept them in. 

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Tori placed a hand over her chest, skin clammy. “I knew you were hurting. We all were. Why didn’t you come to me? Why couldn’t you trust me enough to talk to me. Why wasn’t I good enough for you?”

Despite her best efforts, her voice broke. Tori sucked in a shuddering breath, blinking back the emotions building behind her eyes. Dean felt his chest tighten at the way Tori’s voice broke, her bottom lip quivering with her declaration of her perceived inadequacy.

“What do you want if not me?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Dean breathed out, slowly standing from the chair.

Tori shook her head, face crinkling with sorrow. Dean crossed the space between them with a few strides of his mile long, bowed legs. Her eyes fluttered shut as his hands cupped her face, calloused from years of holding knives and guns. She had to stop herself from leaning into his touch, the juxtaposition of the way he’d gripped her chin in a harsh vice-like grip that night not lost on her in that moment.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

Tori slowly opened her eyes, meeting Dean's soft expression and she couldn’t decide to be mad or upset, so she chose to just stay silent, not completely sure that if she wouldn’t cry if she opened her mouth to say anything anyway. As she blinked, a tear slipped down her cheek, only to be wiped away by his thumb.

“Sweetheart, you are more than enough. You always have been. I never, never meant to make you feel that way. Tor, you are the best damn thing that happened to me. And you deserve so much better.”

“Dean,” Tori placed her hands on his wrists, her thumbs brushing against the back of his hands.

“You're too good for me, Tor. Always have been. The last thing I wanted was for you to get caught on my rough edges. And when times get tough, all I know how to do is push people away. Push the people I love away.”

Tori pulled away from Dean, taking a steadying breath. “That's not your decision to make. I'm a big girl Dean. I'll choose who I get caught on, and when I've had enough.” She grabbed his hand, pressing her lips to his palm “Promise me you won't push me away again. Promise me that, and I'm all yours.”

Dean loosed a breath, letting his hand rest against Tori's cheek. The other reached out hesitantly, finding it's place gently on her waist, her body warm beneath his touch. “I promise.” Dean leaned down, pressing his forehead to Tori’s. “I'm so sorry Tori. I promise this will never happen again.”

Tori leaned into Dean's hand against her cheek, her other hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck, fingers toying with the soft downy hairs there. “Say it.” She whispered into the space between them. “Say you love me.”

“I love you. I love you so much. More than anything, I love you, Tori.”

Tori let out a shuddering sob, choking on tears. “Then kiss me.”

Dean was sure his heart was in a million, no, a billion pieces at Tori’s choked sob. His hand on her waist migrated up to cup the other side of her face as he brushed his lips to hers. Hers moved his response to his own, the kiss tender with unspoken apologies and forgiveness. 

Dean could taste the sharpness of the whiskey she was drinking, only fueling the rush of serotonin in his body. Like a junkie getting his fix he drank up her taste, the way she smelled, the way her body felt beneath his hands.

Dampness soaked his thumbs and Dean pulled back enough only to kiss away the tears that adorned Tori’s flushed cheeks, clinging to her thick eyelashes like dew on the morning grass. He made sure to remove all traces of tears from her face before reclaiming her mouth. 

Tori's hands fell to Dean's chest, the damp cotton of his shirt sliding against her palms as she smoothed them upwards, pushing his rain-soaked jacket off his shoulders. He got the hint, hands leaving her face to slide the leather off himself, letting it fall to the ground in a heap. Dean's fingers found their way onto Tori's hips, sliding under her tank top to meet the soft flesh of her sides.

She giggled softly at the sensation, smiling against his lips. Dean echoed her grin, nipping softly at her bottom lip. Slowly, Dean walked Tori backward until her calves hit the edge of the bed. Tori sat on the edge of the bed, a hand on the back of Dean's neck pulling him down with her. Their kisses gradually became increasingly heated as Tori scooted back up the bed, Dean kicking off his boots. Dean gently caressed Tori's body as he crawled up her body, taking the time to trace along her thighs, up her flank; a maestro handling his instrument, knowing where to touch and how to pull the sweetest sounds from her.

Dean slotted himself between her legs, bracing himself on his elbows above Tori. She hummed contentedly as his lips left hers, blazing a trail of fire to her jaw and neck. He teased his hand under her tank again, the material bunching around his wrist as his thumb grazed the underside of her breast. Tori's breath became uneven at his touch, back arching off the bed slightly.

"So pretty," Dean mumbled against her neck. "So responsive f'me, sweetheart."

His name tumbled from Tori's lips as Dean tugged her tank the rest of the way up and off with her help. Her nipples hardened against the chill room, causing a welcome zing of pleasure as they brushed the soft fabric of Dean's shirt.

Tori huffed in displeasure as Dean sat up from her body, kneeling between her legs. With a smooth swift motion, Dean slid Tori's sweatpants down her thighs and gently removed them. One big hand delicately cradled her ankle, pressing a kiss to the bone there before kissing up her leg; one to her calf, then to the inside of her knee, then to the plush of her thighs. His teeth grazed the skin increasing incrementally the closer he got to the apex of her thighs so by the time his breath was hot against her now-soaked core Tori was sure she could come undone with a single touch. She tipped her head back as Dean pulled away once more, starting again on the other leg with his mouth to the inside of the knee.

"Please." She breathed out, hands gripping the sheets around her.

All the response she got from him was an amused chuckle and a teasing nip to the softness of her inner thigh.

"Let me take care of you." Dean glanced up at her as his wandering fingers hooked on the waistband of her panties, pulling them down to follow the same path as her pants.

Tori became painfully aware of how exposed she was, sending a shiver through her naked body. She wrapped her arms around herself, covering her chest, hands over her face.

Dean made a shushing noise, hovering over her again, his body hot against hers.

"Don't hide." He coaxed, gingerly removing Tori's hands from her face, pinning them to the bed above her with one of his own. "You're perfect."

Tori scoffed softly. "Hardly."

"No?" Dean cocked his head.

"Nuh-uh."

"Well then I'll just have to convince you then."

Dean dipped his head, capturing Tori's lips once more. His mouth left a hot trail as he moved South, nibbling marks on her collarbone. He kissed his way into the valley between her breasts, his free hand coming up to roll one hardened bud between his fingers.

Tori gasped softly, arching up against his touch. It was too much and not enough all at once. She tried to pull free from Dean's grasp but he held her wrists in a vice-like grip. Soft noises escaped her lips as Dean continued his descent downwards, kissing the softness of her belly, tongue flicking across the scars and stretchmarks that littered her olive skin. Finally, he relented his grip on her wrists, using his thumb to trace her hipbone, fingers lovingly caressing the dip of where her waist met her hip.

"So beautiful. Fucking divine." Dean spoke into the plush of her lower stomach. "I can't get enough of you."

Tori's breath caught in her throat at the first hot breaths against her core, followed by a choked moan as his downright sinful mouth attached to her clit. Immediately her fingers buried themselves into his downy soft hair, ankles crossed on his back. Tori bucked her hips against his mouth, but Dean had one arm across her hips, hand splayed across her belly, holding her in place. He ate her out like a man starving, licking a sucking at her clit, tongue dipping into her heat as if on cue.

Soft gasps and moans spurred Dean on, using his free hand to rub small circles on her clit, alternating to sweeping motions that had Tori slamming her legs shut around his head. Dean just smiled into her pussy, deciding that if this was the way he was meant to go, then he would be the furthest thing from upset. Tori's thighs squeezed harder around his head as Dean inserted one finger into her, curling his fingers in a 'come hither' motion just right against the sweet spot deep within her, making Tori see stars. He knew all the right ways to stroke and touch her in order to keep that wave of pleasure continue to slowly reach it's peak.

"Dean," Tori sighed his name, feeling her lower belly tighten.

"I know. I know sweetheart. Let go for me."

With a cry, her climax hit her like a freight train. Her vision went dark for a second as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her, making her legs shake. Once her world stopped spinning and the roaring in her head died down, Tori released her death grip on Dean's hair, allowing her lover to kiss his way back up her body. She could taste her own release on his tongue as he kissed her deeply, lovingly.

"You're," Tori spoke between kisses. "Wearing too many clothes."

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, kneeling with Dean as he chucked the item over his head and into the room. Tori's nimble fingers made their way down his torso, tracing lines downward to his belt. Her lips attached themselves to his neck, sucking dark marks into his tanned skin as she unbuckled his belt. She could feel his hands rubbing soothing, sweeping motions up and down her sides as she tugged his jeans down his muscular bowed legs.

With some maneuvering, Dean found himself, sitting with his head at the top of the bed, Tori removing his jeans, followed by his boxers that already had a wet stain from his erection. Tori swung her leg over his lap, lowering herself to rest on his thighs, placing a kiss to the tattoo over his heart. She sucked in a breath as she ground her hips down over his dick, sliding herself over him. A sense of pride bloomed in her chest as she pulled a rumbling groan from Dean. His hands landed on her hips, pulling her forward and back, guiding her motions.

Tori rose on her knees, reaching behind her to grasp his length, Dean hissing in pleasure as she did so. She pumped her hand up and down him a few times as she kissed Dean hard. Tori pulled away just enough to catch Dean's forest green eyes as she slowly lowered herself onto him, guiding him in with her hand. Dean groaned lowly, both of them unable to move or breathe until he was fully seated inside of her. Pleasure melted with pain as Tori adjusted to the feeling of him inside her, breathing in as Dean exhaled.

"Fuck." Tori moaned into the crook where his neck met his shoulder.

"Feel so good, Tor." Dean rasped, fingers digging into the softness of her ass, kissing her shoulder. "Takin' me so good. So good, sweetheart."

Once Tori adjusted to the feeling of him inside her she began to move, alternating between raising herself up and down on her knees and grinding her hips against his. They fit like a puzzle finding it's final piece, Dean's pubic bone providing delicious friction against her swollen clit. Tori gripped Dean's shoulders as she pistoned herself up and down, rising until only the tip of him remained inside before sliding back down. His grip on her hips and thighs helped steady her as she rode him, slowly picking up speed. Dean leaned back against the headboard, watching Tori above him, her head thrown back in pleasure.

"So pretty for me, Tor. So perfect like that." Dean praised as he traced her hipbones, guiding her movements. "That's it, you got it, sweetheart."

Tori continued moving up and down, one hand drifting down to guide his between her legs. He got the hint, starting to tease her clit as she bucked her hips up again. Tori moaned softly, her breaths in tandem with his as she felt the familiar sensation of pleasure building low in her belly.

"I'm close." She gasped to him

"I know, I know. Me too,"

Dean sat up again, guiding Tori's halting motions as they both teetered on the edge of their releases. With a low moan, Tori's walls clenched down on Dean as her climax hit, triggering his own as he felt his release fill her. Tori continued to move, drawing out both of their orgasms through stuttering motions, her legs feeling like jelly.

They both panted into each other's mouths as Tori rested her forehead against Dean's in post-coital bliss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Dean murmured, nuzzling his face into her neck.

He gently, laid them both down, pulling out of her with a soft groan. Tori watched from the bed as Dean disappeared into the bathroom. She heard the water running briefly before her lover returned with one of the washcloths in hand. She whimpered slightly as Dean used the rough, warm towel to wipe away the mess between her legs, brushing against her overstimulated clit. He tossed the rag back into the bathroom before stretching out beside her.

"Feel okay?" He whispered to her.

All Tori could manage was a blissed-out nod, scooting herself closer to Dean. He grabbed the covers, pulled them over them both, and wrapped his arm around Tori's waist, tugging her to him. She rested her head on his chest, a leg draped over his waist. He pressed a kiss to Tori's hairline as he traced shapes and loving words onto her back, lulling his girl to sleep. Tori brushed a kiss to his chest before settling against him, letting her eyes fall shut.

In the early morning hours, Tori found herself awake next to Dean in the lumpy motel bed. The sun was just waking, casting them both in golden hour light, teasing along the highlights of her lovers sandy blonde hair, emphasizing the five o’clock shadow and every silver line of scar on his bare torso. 

She reached out gently, brushing aside the short hairs falling gracefully across his forehead, fingertips lingering on the small scar there. His arm was heavy across her waist, keeping her in the bed next to him. Green eyes blinked open as she adjusted. 

“Where you goin’?” Dean muttered, voice rough with sleep.

“Nowhere.” Tori smiled at Dean, scooting forward to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I'm not going anywhere.”

[snaillock]

i’m sorry but the fact that rin is canonically flunks most of his class except for english (cause he be on that sigma soccer grindset babyyy) has been lingering in my mind for like a week or so oh my god

like imagine him not caring enough about those classes (why care about your geometry grade when you’re gonna be the best striker anyway or whatever’s going on in his head) until one of his teachers nags him about improving his grades, even suggesting a tutor. at first he’s way too prideful to seek help from a tutor but the teacher’s incessant nagging made him give in and find a tutor who’s happens to be another student in his school, most likely an upperclassman.

while he’s waiting for you to show up clearly running a few minutes late, he mumbles to himself about how unnecessary and “lukewarm” this tutoring shit is.

when you finally showed up and gave your quick apologies for your tardiness, you took one look at rin’s impatient/borderline judgmental face and decided it was best to cut out the fluffy introductions and dive straight into it.

he’s pretty reluctant about telling you what exactly he’s having trouble with in class since being here already bruises his ego enough. not to mention, he’s very doubtful about your skills as a tutor (definitely isn’t personal ofc, he just be like that). you, of course, prove him wrong and also get him to share what he’s struggling with so you can actually help. then surprise! surprise! he already shows a lot of improvement by the end of the session.

the way you get him to open up about his academic struggles with ease kinda freaks him out but he goes along with it

there was just something about your patient yet stern way of teaching that made rin drawn into that made him focus up and actually work. clearly a step up from his shitty lukewarm teachers. after that session, rin soon found himself booking another one… then another… and another after that… ok look you just have an efficient way of teaching that does not cut into his precious soccer time. it’s not because of any other reason, he swears!

i imagine when he lowers his walls and slowly starts falling in love, he becomes a huge mess internally. can you blame him though? he’s never done this before. he’s never felt this before. oh my god. what do people even do when they’re in love?? what the hell even is love??? someone please answer him before he starts spiraling!!!

while these questions run around in his head, he watches as you explain the assignment he has to do for one of his classes, too engrossed in teaching to notice the redness on his neutral face

eventually he accepts his feelings for you but he’s still very lost on what to do now. after all, he has only had people fawn over him and he has never returned those feelings before. thus he has no idea what to do when he’s actually interested in someone and gets stuck for an indefinite amount of time.

oh rin itoshi. the man who can literally psychoanalyze the opposing team in 0.005 seconds and knows when to perfectly strike also has absolutely no clue on when and how to ask someone out.

so now the ball is in your court if you reciprocate his feelings and want to become more than just mere tutor and student

a.n.: this was supposed to be a three sentence thingy idk what the fuck just possessed me today

[borderlinebox]

Hello! I really love your writing and saw your requests are open :D

Wondering if you could write a headcannon of what it would be like being chishiya’s childhood friend? like how would they meet and what would their dynamic be like

gn! kid reader who’s selfless and caring like arisu wanting to befriend him (whos been staring at the Mona Lisa painting for quite awhile)

Sorry if this doesn’t make any sense

have a nice day/evening/night ⭐️

Chishiya's Childhood Best Friend Headcannons!

A/N: Im giggling so hard rn cause I've been planning on a lot of chishiya x childhood bestfriend! reader so this was so ♥ i mean like 'return to me' was legit that shshsjdj tysm for this req <3 i love this req smmm

Pairing: Chishiya x Childhood Bestfriend!Reader

Warning: Season 2 spoilers

Feedback is highly appreciated!!!

Before Borderlands:

both of your parents were friends

all giggling and shit in the background as if they werent shitty people

you held your mom's hand all unamused as they were talking

but then you saw another kid staring at that one mona lisa painting

so of course

you went to him

you started to introduce yourself and chatted with him for a while

you talked more because all he mostly did was hum and nod

both your parents saw how 'close' yall were so they set both of you up with studydates. playdates arent their cup of tea

it took a while for chishiya to open up to you

but of course, you were the only person who comforted him because you saw right through his little charades

im sure you were both so close only because you were so persuasive and just really liked his company!

he does too but he wont let you know that

chishiya also kept you close because of that 'you know me too much'

so its either friendship or death

but you chose friendship of course

when you guys grew older, maybe teenage years,

chishiya really thought you would leave and never see him again

he was a little bit relieved but also partly scared and worried

but you pulled an uno reverse and visited like a lot.

he hates admitting the fact that you're his best friend and probably his only friend

he wouldn't mind you calling him 'chishi', 'shi', 'shiya' and whatever nickname you can get out of his name

you both played games of course.

he made/helped you in mind games

and you helped him with more physical and hands-on things. especially with teamwork.

because that little shit likes doing everything himself and he had to learn how to share

you'd come to him to ask for help and vice versa ,

after a lot of denial of course

can we all agree that chishiya is a bit of a tsundere? because yes.

but he'd be more sleek and good at hiding his feelings.

he'd tease you but you'd tease him back

you'd already call him doctor the moment he joined medical school as a joke

you're definitely going to let him reconsider his point of views and ideals.

he listens but he doesn't apply

he hates how much you care for him,

hates how much you would put him first

but that's cause he likes the affection.

again, he'd lie to himself about his feelings lets be real

but i really do imagine a classic opposites attract dynamic

"somebody will die-" "of fun!"

or like you create the chaos and he is the smart, chilled out chaos enabler

in short, both of you guys are two peas in a pod except that he dislikes admitting it

but he wouldn't mind being by your side

During Borderlands:

i really, honestly, wouldn't think that you'd come in there with him during this time

but if there's a chance that you do join,

fuck you because he is going to be having your back even when you dont realize it

sure, he probably only wants you as an asset. but goddamnit-

you already understand that he is the type of person who would betray others

i think you even told him that both of you should split up so that you wouldnt get in his way

honestly, he thought it was a good idea too

but ofc, every goddamn game you finished, chishiya's outside waiting for you

then both of you agreed thst you'd split up from time to time

but when you guys were in a same match then expect war against the other players

because power duo

especially in a game of clubs

chishiya is honestly very lucky that you got his back in games of spades and clubs

if the game turns out to be diamonds and/or hearts,

you'd help him think and solve situations with him

but for the most part, you're just there under his protection

because people would definitely try to manipulate the both of you or like, mostly you

and if you look bigger, taller and maybe even a little bit ripped than chishiya from all those physical games,

PICK 👏 HIM 👏 UP

like we all saw that bastard jog from those bullets in season 2

YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO PICK HIM UP

when the king of spades is starting to bite yalls asses,

just literally swoop in and pick him up like he's fucking nothing because its definitely better than watching him jog around with his hands in his mf pockets

but i hc that you picked him up in several occasions

hell, you'd pick him up like aguni did niragi

you become very good friends with kuina!!!

she's honestly baffled how you could pick this stone up

oh and you definitely taught her how to read chishiya or how to truly understand his 'cute' antics and remarks

protect him from niragi. please.

he can DEFINITELY protect himself from niragi but

you just selfless and caring like that

it would probably make his heart happy if you do that but yk him

and if you join the jack of hearts game,

then thats where your bond REALLY starts to show

because you trust one another

honestly, you were probably ready to bash that big bully's head in if he started threatening chishiya

chishiya would also reassure you that he would tell you the truth and only the truth

and he knew you were being genuine because everytime you told him his symbol after he told you yours, you'd have a dumbass, dorky smile on your face that he liked so much

y'all would honestly pass the time chatting

philosophy, what the games could mean or even just memories before borderlands

after the king of diamonds game though, he seemed so off

you asked what's wrong and he told you that he was just thinking

and at the time when chishiya was planning to sacrifice himself for usagi, you left him to try and shoot niragi using the gun he gave him

haha, the anger on your face when niragi shot him

but then you were caught off guard when chishiya suddenly went to usagi and you swear to god you heard him say a soft 'sorry'

you almost had a breakdown when he got a second bullet

but instead of choosing to stomp niragi, you decided to stay by chishiya's side and help him stop from bleeding as you lay him next to a car

both of you would then slowly start softly chatting about his life choices

while people were being murdered.

im sure he let you hold him like that,

trying to stop the blood

and omg when he told arisu his secret, you felt so much sympathy for him

then chishiya probably told you that while he was thinking to be selfless for once,

he kept thinking about you and everything you told him

ever since you both met

because before arisu, you were the most selfless and caring person he knew

and after all those times you told him that it would make yourself feel better after you helped others. because you were so sweet

he wanted to try it out for once

and when you both saw the fireworks in the sky, you told him how excited you were to see him again in the real world

After Borderlands:

you were definitely walking together and talking when the meteor disaster happened.

like you were laughing and he was just listening to you

and then you woke up, next to him

different bed of course

and other than the ceiling, he was the first thing you saw

he was looking at you when you woke up

"good morning" he'd say

and you'd be so fucking ecstatic that he was alive

then both of you would just start chatting about how your near-death situation affected you

you were glad to hear that he was planning to change his life ideals and pov

when both of you could walk around the hospital, there was never a moments that a doctor or nurse wouldn't see the both of you chatting together

this is when your bond with him starts to really strengthen

[abitohoney]

Don't Trust Dustin

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Mature/borderline Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, strap-ons, spanking, humor, CRACK

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: I'm 100% calling out @master-sass-blast for this. She held me at gunpoint and threatened to cease creating Sevika and Grayson content if I didn't write this. (Not really, but she asked me to so ofc I'll do this for her. <3) Inspired by this stupid post. Followers, please avert your eyes, this is a CRACK fic, and I take no responsibility for any damage this causes. I promise to return to normal posts after this.

Sevika drags her tired feet through the front door to her home. The home she shares with you. It has been one of those days. Dealing with the aftermath of Jinx’s shenanigans. Being chastised for complaining to Silco about the little shit. The only silver lining to an otherwise shitty day is that she’s coming home to you.

A heavy sigh fills the otherwise quiet entryway while Sevika kicks off her boots. Light shines through the crack in the door leading to the bedroom, and she realizes you must still be up despite the late hours. The tiniest hint of a grin pulls at one corner of her mouth as she makes her way quietly toward the light.

Curious as to what you're up to, she slowly pushes the door open. She finds you, back facing her, donning one of her t-shirts. Nothing odd about that. But when Sevika's gaze drops lower she spots the harness- her harness- wrapped around your sleep shorts. Now that is odd.

"Babe… what are you doing?" Sevika asks suspiciously as she steps into the room.

Lost in what you were doing, you had failed to notice Sevika's return home. You release a startled yelp and drop the bottle of glue you'd had in your hand. But you quickly forget about it, thrilled to see your girlfriend.

With a devious smirk you can't quite disguise, you peer over your shoulder at Sevika as she cautiously approaches you.

"Babe…" she repeats, gray eyes narrowing at the sight of your cheesy smile.

"Hi, Sev," you say sweetly.

Too sweetly, Sevika thinks.

Sevika's attention drops to the glue on the floor, then back up to you as she cocks a brow.

"Why aren't you answering me?" She asks as she slowly stalks around to your front.

"I- uh- I got something for you," you reply with a huge grin.

"Yeah? And what's tha-" Sevika's question falls short the moment she discovers the answer herself. She stands facing you, but she's staring blankly at the silicone toy attached to the front of your harness.

But it's not just a dildo. You enhanced it.

It takes Sevika a solid eight seconds to fully process the googly eyes, smile, and paper crown currently glued to her favorite purple dildo.

Ever so slowly, Sevika raises her eyes to look at your beaming face. Her expression is a mixture of disbelief, exhaustion, and just downright done-with-you.

"This is Sir Bartholomew Penetrator Master of the Thickwood Kingdom, and he wants a nice, sloppy kiss from you," you exclaim, completely undeterred by your girlfriend's obvious lack of enthusiasm for your creation. "From both pairs of lips, if you know what I mean," you add with a waggle of your eyebrows.

Sevika releases a long, deep sigh as she shakes her head. "Are you high?"

Brows furrowed in offense, you shake your head. "No! I'm fine!" Your chipper smile returns and you shake your hips to make the toy dance. Dropping your voice in a pathetic attempt to sound more ‘manly’, you make the toy talk to Sevika, "I just want a kiss from Zaun's scary lady."

Sevika stares at you deadpan. "You were out with Ran and Dustin weren't you?"

"Yeah, but I-"

"And you left your drink unattended, didn't you?"

Your excited expression drops to that of disappointment. Why does she always have to be such a party pooper?

"I had to go to the bathro-"

"What did I tell you about that?"

Now it's your turn to release the long sigh. "Don't leave any food or drink unattended around Dustin. Don't trust Dustin," you answer in a mocking tone while rolling your eyes. "But I'm fine!" You insist. But you aren't. You don't even notice how your words are starting to slur together. Or how you're swaying in your spot. Or how you're still making the strap bob and shake as you move your hips erratically.

But Sevika notices. And she's not amused in the least.

"So you're just naturally this stupid?" Sevika sneers. A smirk starts to pull at her lips as she lets her eyes wander down over your bare legs. "You're lucky you're so damn hot or I'd choke you out right here and now."

"I don't mind being choked," you reply with a sly smile, then make the faux cock add, "Me either!"

You're met with another stony look from your girlfriend, but it doesn't phase you. You're high as a kite and don't even know it.

Done with your games, Sevika grasps the silicone toy by its base and rips it from the harness with enough force to have you toppling forward into her chest. She chucks it across the room, brows furrowed when you peer up at her with a pout.

"Why'd you have to go and do that to poor Sir Barthol-"

"Shut your mouth. Strip. And get your ass on the bed," Sevika demands. "I'm going to fuck the stupid out of you," she murmurs more to herself than to you as she steps away to fetch another harness and undecorated dildo.

You do as you're told, more than eager to let her have her way with you. In record time you've disposed of the harness, her t-shirt, and your shorts. But before you can toss your panties aside, Sevika is there grabbing them from your hands. You peer up at her in confusion.

"Open your mouth," she grunts.

Being the obedient girlfriend you are, you do just that. Only to have it immediately stuffed with your underwear.

"Bed. Now," she demands.

You give her a muffled affirmative and quickly crawl onto the mattress on your hands and knees, squealing like a damn pig when she gives your ass a firm slap with her flesh hand. The deep, sinister chuckle that echoes from behind you is enough to make you momentarily forget the pain. At least until she gets her metal hand on the other cheek.

Sevika's not sure if she's managed to fuck the stupid out of you. Not when you're lying limp with your ass up, wet thighs spread, and ass bright red with hand prints. Nor when your mouth lies slack, cheeks pressed against the sheets soaked by your drool. And definitely not when your eyes are rolled so far back behind your drooping lids that she's certain you must see just how empty your head is.

But, as she removes her strap to clean it, she thinks, at least you shut the fuck up about that damn dildo.

[nvrcmplt]

SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

Being mostly OC based, to be faaaaaaaaaaaair - It's not something fixed in place but I can say with my whole ass that my ships with @intcritus and @avaere are most likely OTPs. Due to the length of time of knowing these two and just how deep our claws go into each other it's almost hard not to think about my muses that I ship with them / without them being mentioned, Muse-wise for sure. Like a part of my muses is made with them in mind, or they've made their corresponding muse unbelievably integral to my muses life and creation as a whole so it's like, yin and yang honestly. A few others are on that road too; eg; @asinusxdomi and @bonesofchaos

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

Everything to be fair, ain't no limitations when we're consenting adults, imo. Obviously nothing agreed on will happen and nothing plotted out for darker themes will be just like forced on people cause that's just shitty but also I know what I'm getting into when I go for those types of ship wants.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

I personally don't feel comfortable in reading about muses having any thoughts about children muses in that way and that's a hard no for me personally. I couldn't write it even to test the waters like I have with a few dark topics, ( dub con / non con etc ) It's just up there with those kinda of topics that I can't personally say 'yeah I'm comfortable with writing this for an experiment', not for me, so yeah long story short, no.

It's just common sense to not ship adults with children muses / characters, it's a big no thank you.

The youngest I could possibly ok in terms of just passing, is the 18-19 with someone in their 20 - 23 space - tops but even so, it still makes me wrinkle my nose a bit.

I think anything younger isn't something I'm looking for to read or write. Younger writers of that age can do what they want but like I'm 31, 32 next year, I ain't got that young-mind leeway anymore mentality and I cringe at the idea of making younger muses like below 25 to ship.

Are you selective when shipping?

Nah - I try to be to limit my needs to just swarm the dash with my shit but I ain't got much of a tick list or wall to climb over when it comes to wanting to ship w/ me. Like I make tags in a blink if I see us interacting a lot outside of just one or two asks a month thing. Like if I feel the vibe of actual interest towards my muses, then yeah I'm gunna return that interest if I get that spark and want to explore that dynamic ship in whatever way we're going.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

I will send you a BJ ask if you ask for it. So, whenever and whereever. I don't use readmores, so if someone finds sucking fingers too sexual, it'll just be there in the open. If we're going mating press on a Tuesday morning, so be it.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

/points at my mutuals./ These bitches suffer with me.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Talk to me? Lol, not hard. Forceship if you want, I'm game if we've got something going.

How often do you like to ship?

All day every day - you can't stop me and my mind.

Are you multiship?

Yes yes, I can singleship but that's only for 11+ year friends on here.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

Yeah, I ain't gunna lie. I just love having ships and tags and a continuous plot going with folks and sometimes you gotta bag the muse to keep it going. Even if it doesn't end up a lovey-dovey or we plot a break up, I'm all for it.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

Me and my mutual muses. I am the favourite ship, thank you.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Love me and my muses with all your heart and send them your muses first born, ofc. But mostly just communicate with me, I ain't gunna be able to guess through jokes / vague tags or the occasional meme, like full on talk to me, spam my inbox with proper interaction between muses, if you don't feel the same is being returned, talk to me in DMs or Discord. I can't read minds.

tagged by : @avaere tagging: All of y'all.

[tumbleweeddesktop]

About Hanahaki Rudy

//Shitty writing coming through. I have no idea what im doing//

So Rudy loved Ale definitely since he knew he was gay. (I'm not putting him through too much on this) Hanahaki doesn't occure until one acknowledges that they are in love with the intended person here, so Rudy only experienced normal coughing and the check up left him with normal diagnosis and meds

Rudy only realized he loved Ale after they got out on escapades to bars as they got more freedom over time in the forces. Rudy was unable to process anything as Ale flirted right and left, It happened enough that finally, after enough outing. Rudy coughed up seeds.

And the more and more he sees Ale flirt and goes somewhere outside with a different person, the more it escalates. The seed turned to leaves and stems. By then he knew that it was hanahaki, clear enough for who these feelings were.

But he denies it, tries to drown it out with trying to achieve his best and just keep up with Alejandro in the force. Standing by his side was enough, he wouldn't ask for more.

He coughed up the first petals on the first day of autumn, when they got a temporary leave after a mission and Ale decided to visit a relative. A red, fan shaped petal landed on his palm after Ale's car was right out of view. Separation makes the heart grow fonder.

He hates that it's right.

A soldier with hanahaki is not uncommon, but they were given 2 choices. Confess or operation. And honestly Rudy would opt the first. Loving Ale for so long and being lifted of it- he wouldn't know how to survive.

If only he knew how to face the man so that so freely allowed

So of course he keeps it a secret.

Trying to hold back the coughs and chokes in public. He'd gotten quite well at controlling his breathing so that no one noticed his lack of chatter, well, not less than usual that is.

Alejandro ofc knew that something was wrong with him, but Rudy wasn't ready to confess, he doubts he'll ever be. So he chalked it up to just nostalgia washing over him for a bit. Ale didn't believe him but he knows that it'll take some time for Rudy to be honest with something so he left it for another day.

His first full flower was when Ale got his promotion as colonel

A red poppy.

Ah, he loved enough to die apparently.

With a smile, Rudy accepted his feelings. At the same time he realized that he quite liked oak coffins.

Rodolfo Parra loves slowly, it takes years but once he does it's strong.

The red poppies decorated the corners of his room. At first just one or two; overtime he coughed up enough to fill a bowl. Along with his breath shortening day by day, the flowers are clogging up his airways slowly but surely, ready to cut it off completely. He hopes that it's in his sleep.

Then the house burned.

The smoke didn't make it easier for him to breathe. Suffocating from the outside and inside, Rodolfo Parra accepted that it was his last night on earth. His comm blared, Alejandro of course, worried and panicked but Rudy's voice was calm and collected as much as he could bring it to. Telling his colonel to chase after Hassan, aware of the implications but Rudy ignored it.

He won't have to stuff red poppies in his pocket the next morning, filling a bowl with fresh water to keep them alive despite them being a reminder that he's a day closer to death. He loved Ale, and even if the flowers were a painful reminder he loved them too.

Fate had other plans.

He lived. Opening his eyes to a morning he never thought he'd see again. His colonel by his side holding his hand.

Rudy didn't like the hope he felt so he didn't return the light squeeze. Merely hoping his attempt at a smile was successful in reassuring the other.

"Hanahaki?"

Rudy nodded.

"To who? Tell me, Rudy, to who?"

"It doesn't matter. It'll be better if they never know, I'm content with this."

And before Ale responded, he cuts in again.

"When is the surgery?"

//whew this turned out longer than I thought//

[pansyfilia]

welcome to my blog!!

COMMS ARE NOW... OPEN!

you can call me pansy or rina (she/her)

fandom list

greek mythology/epic the musical (save me penelope save me)

the marauders

dungeon meshi my beloveds

tma (currently on s2 so NO SPOILERS)

X MEN i love you jean and ororo and rogue and mystique pls marry me + jubilee can tag along too

i have like one thg post so yk... it was for an au who am i kidding

ON A NOTE!!!! PLEASE DO TALK TO ME, MESSAGE ME, @ ME IF YOU WANT. WE DON'T NEED TO BE MOOTS TO INTERACT OR ANYTHING its bc i need friends :((

my ao3 is @green_starss, where i have a few odypen fics brewing

and ive got a bit of an organising system which is pretty ridiculous soooo

"the little white maggot tag" is just generally rosier twins/ pandora/ evan, whatever really

"the wild hyena at the door tag" is all things barty crouch jr, gay twink and mcr enjoyer

"the scarlet fox tag" is the woman, the MILF, the legend lily evans (she ate btw)

"the magician's rabbit tag" is mary macdonald <333333

"my weaver wife" is PENELOPE OF SPARTA yes i do know she is ody's wife and i would never dream of taking her from him (im stealing her from him respectfully as we speak)

"the green mamba that bites" is dorcas meadowes (we love a mean queen)

"the black cat that haunts" is regulus black, wet dog man and also brother's best friend survivor

"the lovegood moths tag" is essentially the lovegood family, pandora, xeno and luna

"the island and his freshwater pearl" is just odypen, pretty much the only straight pairing on here

" the two rabid beasts" is bartylily (essentially emo/preppy at core)

"the rotting hyena tag" is rosekiller (tee hee)

"the bunny corpse" is my marydora stuff

"pansy's aus" is what it says on the can

"ask pansy anything" basic comprehension skills yall

"pansy rambles" essentially the same vein, see above, etc

I think???? i have an au list somewhere in here so ill put it on here as well

odyssey thg au, where ody and polites go into a war-torn arena and only one returns home (alr a wip)

odyssey modern au, where ody is enlisted in the war and needs to get OUT. dio actually pops in and checks in on him from time to time and calypso is just a super weird flight attendant

odyssey lotr au, following the whole arawen/odypen parallels that have me gripped atm (and also penelopes half divine side as well because the POTENTIAL aghh) jsyk legolas and gimli are perimedes and elpenor :))))))

idk why but like odyssey roleswap au, where eury and ody stay at home while their wives are away on pilgrimage or wtv the equiv is in ancient greece and circe and calypso r just super hot evil minor gods. OMG WAIT tiresias is the same but its his cursed-by-hera woman form (long story, will explain in a later post)

iliad/odyssey college au where theyre all just here and there and also everyone who dies either gets sent away or yk runs away from the shitty ass ilium university (helen is the art major queen and calypso stalks ody which we love/hate)

THE ILIAD/ODYSSEY RENAISSANCE COURT AU which isnt realy plot,,, its just fluff and fake dating and secret dating and also lady thetis who hates her sons prince consort patroclus and theres rlly just a lot of love and drama

[self-indulgent one comin in hot] single parent ody with calypso's kids nausithous and nausinous who has penelope as his kids' babysitter (not canon timeline-complicit bc who needs that shitfaced angst blast)

and ofc a hogwarts au just for funzies

just tag me on either ao3 or on here if u use these!

anyways,,, have fun! pls enjoy my half-asleep crazes

[nietr]

it really sucks being a silent hill fan for years and years now... its always sucked being a silent hill stan ever since post golden years (post sh4), our fanbase has been fucked time and time again and unfortunately it has led to some shitty things that have directly effected the overall disposition of the entire community at large extremely negatively and this makes me sad.

first of all, nowadays the community is absolutely toxic. it seems like konami is actually trying their best (for the most part) this time and the community behind silent hill just nitpicks every single tiny little thing. like, i don't think konami could ever in a million years make this community happy no matter what bloober or any other developer would do with any sh1-4 remake. the nitpicks i see people complaining about are just... silly at times. that's not to say some of them aren't valid. there are things i've seen in the trailers i'm not a fan of at all. it's not like im stanning and defending the remake, willing to die on the hill of "it's going to be good no matter what, it's a silent hill 2 remake." It's not like that, it's just that this community is absurdly toxic and salty. and the sad thing is, i get where this vitriol comes from. this community, we have been constantly just thrown under the bus. the IP has had its history of just, absolutely not handled with respect at all and it has sucked, so the community is in this place of, "we're going to be salty no matter or how good it is." it seems like.

look, i'm not a fan of consulting firms being hired for a fucking horror game for 'inclusivity', like what the hell is that? I don't get it myself. But that's not the point. The main contention and memes i'm seeing are solely based on Angela's face rn being a little bit more boxy and not up to par with the absurdly realistic faces of other characters.

Okay, well, it is a trailer and not the final product so seeing all these memes and mockery (as funny as some of them have been), i have a feeling her face will be changed, probably quite a bit, like James' face was. Maybe her character's face was not completely finished, I don't know. But, her face did need the most work. She is supposed to be a teenager and looked like she was ~30 in the original, so I get needing to completely rework how she looks. That being said, her character was always going to look completely different from the original in a reimagining in a game with photorealistic character design. the character design for Angela wasn't always the best out of the lot of all of them, so ofc she needed the most redesign and i'm not even mad... idgi and this is coming from someone whos favorite game of all time is SIlent Hill 2.

It's just, so much of this criticism seems very contrived and it seems like people are just shitting on the small knit-picky bullshit things because its the bandwagon thing to do.

Meanwhile, the first trailer had some problems. This second trailer shows Bloober team willing to listen to the community and tweak the problems people were having with what they saw and I was blown away by some of what I saw...

I'm just willing to have an open mind to all of this, because at the end of the day this WILL be the best Silent Hill installment we've gotten in YEARS, and despite the couple of gripes I personally have with what I've seen so far, I was BLOWN away by this reimagining of Silent Hill 2.

Again, this is coming from someone whos favorite game is Silent Hill 2. I personally think this is an absolute massive undertaking, because at the end of the day, I do believe Sh2 was a literal masterpiece. I think it is a must play game because it is. in my opinion, one of the most profound pieces of modern media, period. So, I'm willing to accept the fact that a remake will NEVER, no matter what, ever live up to being just as good as the original. To me, this is going to be a welcome return, reimagined in the modern age, with far different gameplay and mechanics, so it may not be a masterpiece at the end of the day. (Maybe I'm wrong, I'd love to be proven wrong.). but it will be a very awesome and fun return to my favorite place in the world and from this new trailer and what i've seen, I think this is going to be an awesome time.

I just hope they fix a couple of things. They do need to make Angela look as detailed as other characters, for some reason she doesn't, maybe they're still working on that. They need to get rid of the red "i'm hurt" border, that shit is lame. Some of the physics sometimes look unnatural... Other than that, I'm fucking stoked.

People need to just stop shitting on things to shit on them, and if you've never played Silent Hill 2, and you like horror games, do not wait for this game. The original will always be a masterpiece, something absolutely fucking rare as all hell, and it is absolutely worth playing. There's no reason to NOT play it if you like games.

Like, I don't get these people waiting for the remake, never played the OG games by team silent and then being like "This looks like shit." It's like, it's because you never played the original and I feel like this game really is for the fans... Like, I get it, there's younger people who don't like older games or whatever, and they want modern gameplay but the game was never supposed to be a resident evil clone. the game was never about how good the combat is... so you don't get it. PLAY THE ORIGINAL. The graphics hold up, the story is a mindfuck amazing journey, the atmosphere is mind-blowing, it's not like other PS2 games where it's like if you're a bit younger you'd go "This is too dated, the graphics are too bad and I can't enjoy this." The game is a cinematic masterpiece, it's almost like the most interactive movie ever made at times. I don't know, I just don't get these kids not willing to play the original but waiting for the remake and then also shitting on things about it... half the time it's because they don't get where they're coming from with the source material. this shit isn't supposed to be RE, even though they could be considered video game horror cousins..

there's just all these salty people and I've been livid with Konami for so much and especially with things they've done with this IP, so I get the gripe at times but people just need to stop being SO salty, there are things worth being excited about IMO....

I personally love what I saw this time. I hope the community can rebound from being mostly toxic at times, and this IP finally gets a worthy installment of praise... We shall see.

[welcome-to-oslov]

Aw I love you've been thinking about Bror/Tilrey trajectory too.

I wouldn't worry about it being too retcon'd! I feel like there's plenty of vibe between those two later on that's it easy to sense there was something between them underpinning the strong friendship & deep feelings if care between them.

For ex, in ASB Tilrey fighting so hard to fight off the shitty triggers after the Election Night show so he could be comforted by Bror, "They won't ruin him for me." Celinda remarking their past & ongoing closeness as if it's common knowledge. And of course Bror storming into Gersha's office, later keeping Tilrey's confidences from Gersha while still trying to mold Gersha into treating Tilrey right (confidences/trust which Bror clearly had more than anyone - as Tilrey thought about during the IntSec debacle, shocked thinking Bror had told things to Celinda that he'd only ever trusted to tell Bror). Later in the saga, when Bror was so close with him helping to seek a replacement so Tilrey could be freed.

And ofc plenty of opportunities now in Oslov Unraveled for Tilrey & Bror to reflect on who they'd been earlier in life 😏, as they live to see together Tilrey take on the role Bror would've never doubted he could do 🙌

As for breaking up... I guess I always figured that as Tilrey struggles at Linden's house, it tragically begins to feel too hard to switch gears & also be open/happy/relaxed in the way he wants/needs to be with Bror. They maybe could've overcome it, but you know how Tilrey is. And Bror's protectiveness. Maybe the love transformed back into protector/brother on both their parts even despite whatever either wanted or needed... Celinda in ASB seemed to think they were currently FWB but idk, we never did see that in ASB which opened right as he finally left Linden's house.

However your brilliant mind takes us on the journey through All Kinds of Broken, I am hopeful Tilrey gets the little interlude of love, sexual awakening, self-development he deserves at 20-21! As much as his world allows in that time in his life 😢🔥

I like the way you’re thinking! As Tilrey gets more vulnerable and traumatized, it makes sense that Bror would return to the protective role—offering help and comfort but not wanting to do anything that could destabilize Tilrey’s fragile mental state. And Tilrey might only want to be in a romantic relationship when he feels strong and capable. He has so much ambivalence about becoming vulnerable and letting down boundaries with anyone—which probably all goes back to the way Malsha screwed with his head.

And Bror is very hard for Tilrey to fool and manipulate—unlike Gersha, Bror pretty quickly sees exactly who he is. We know Tilrey’s not all that honest with Gersha until later in their relationship. The layer of inauthenticity makes him feel safer, I think—sad but true.

[gonegrove]

Thinking about heather x eddie bc I’m nothing if not a champion of rare pairs in this comm

But just the “god he’s so fucking LAME and CRINGE and EMBARRASSING I need him CARNALLY” energy is so intense. Heather who prides herself in being The Bitch™️ and boasting about how all the boys are thirsty for her but she’s Too Good for them realizing that she wasn’t into popular hot boys because her type was scrawny shaggy haired freaks with awful personalities and a huge gatekeeping streak.

Heather realizing that the only one who can go toe to toe with her in a vaguely toxic and absolutely mean argument about some asinine shit like A Movie or SoCiEtY is Eddie Fucking Munson and it’s also unbelievably erotic to her and being like “i need to kill myself IMMEDIATELY”

Heather and Eddie as Janet and frank n furter in a rocky horror production bc they’re both attention whores, both into music as a Serious Thing and Eddie just loves anything not mainstream and music related so like ofc he went in for it. And the whole thing quickly turns into a 2 man cats the musical orgy energy shitshow bc they both just get TOO INTO PERFORMING. She’s trying to act soooooooooo normal but sadly eddie on stage singing his heart out half naked is literally too erotic for her. The entire crews job turns into just keeping them from screwing back stage like the horny theater kids they are. Good thing too bc she’s always this close to giving him a bj and if she actually did she’d have to walk into the lake never to return.

She’s actively avoiding any place he’s preforming bc she cannot be held responsible for what she might do if she sees him on stage playing guitar and she doesn’t wanna be arrested.

Eddie realizing that the most popular girl in school (I stand by heather being the Main Bitch and Chrissy simply gaining her crown after her death) is HILARIOUSLY INTO HIM. LIKE ANGRY HORNY. And first being like wtf???? Before he sees the opportunity here for Evil and is immediately delighted. Decides it’s open season for revenge of several years of bullying but pointing out to her how she wants him sooooooo bad it makes her look stupid.

Eddie challenging her to read all of Tolkien’s works, and Heather who’s physically incapable of backing down doing it and coming back with notes like “fëanor is RIGHT actually, so is melkor. I cannot believe you like this pansy ass gay apologetics shit what are you catholic??” And he’s both LIVID ON SO MANY LEVELS but also WILDLY AROUSED. There’s just something about a hot popular chick confidently having the most vile takes on his cringe exclusionary nerd shit that gets him hard. He’s horrified by this fact but also knows she wants him bad anyway so like really it’s just a matter of self control and can his self-esteem/pride take it.

All of his friends hate her and he’s like “yeah 😍 me too 😍”

She gets roped into going to/preforming in Some Town Event oblivious to the fact he is too and that’s when she gets arc of the covenant’d with his guitar playing. Mind snaps. Will power gone. He’s the shittiest dude she’s ever met she doesn’t like him AT ALL but sadly he’s also the Perfect Man and she needs him IMMEDIATELY. Legit jumps him the SECOND she can.

The kinda ppl who’ll continue an argument during sex.

Eddie loving every second of little miss rich and popular being soooo down bad for him. Loving having this level of control over someone who’s usually so “out of his league”. Loving how he can turn her brain off and make her shut up like it’s a magic trick.

Eddie slowly realizing there’s parts of heather that she never shows to anyone but he’s gotten a peak of, intentionally or not, and getting kinda possessive of that.

Heather laying on his shitty gross ass bed listening to his music and taking it seriously and talking about it musical artist to musical artist.

Heather calling his dnd group shit like “his pathetic gay loser circle jerk” and he’s just like “baby I’m going to kill you with a brick 😍”

Heather bodily taking over his hair and skin care routine. Even brushing his hair sometimes and explaining it all for when she’s not there and he’s like “lol you know I’m not doing all that”