#i think this is a funny experience of mine so hey

[uncanny-tranny]

What some people don't realize is that some trans people don't know they were trans as kids, but not for the reasons you might think...

Like when I was a kid, I would watch movies with women in them and I'd be like, "okay, I guess I'm a straight guy. These are very heterosexual feelings," and that was the end of it. What I didn't think was that that made me trans, because as far as I cared, I started life as a straight little boy.

[svtskneecaps]

shoutout to my sibling for enabling me bc homie is going to wake up to a shitton of messages, many of which were sent at 2 am and one notable message sent at 4, we are Having a Normal One

[foldingfittedsheets]

Hands down one of my worst experiences in high school was when the seniors decided to extort the entire school by using tactics that were banned by the UN to get them to pay for the senior party! If that sounds like a wild sentiment stay tuned because this shit got crazy.

I was living in Arizona at the time and I was a freshman. Our campus was largely open air, with walks between class room buildings and some covered outdoor tables. Our event began with a morning announcement. The seniors were collecting donations for the senior party, and when they reached their goal, their fundraising method would stop.

Their fundraising method:

To pipe the entire schools speakers with "If You're Happy and You Know It" on loop. To this day, I cannot hear this song without experiencing a degree of rage and madness that is frankly alarming. One of the worst parts of the entire thing was that the recording they chose had the female singer do a little clap and say "Yay-ha-hey," at the end. So it wasn't just the song, it was this awful little cooldown stinger at the end.

If this sounds a lot like psychological torture you'd be extremely correct! This practice has been banned in some countries, but the good old US hasn't ruled it a human rights violation, and what a fun silly way to raise money, that definitely wasn't damaging to adolescent psyches!

Every morning for 15 minutes before school began, every passing period, every lunch, and after school for another 15 minutes they blasted that fucking song on unceasing repeat through every speaker in the school. Everyone found different ways of coping with this and mine was to observe my classmates descent into madness and categorize the stages.

The first stage was almost completely consistent, and it was a smug almost exasperated eye rolling phase. Often accompanied by derisive comments about the song or the tactic, this phase was extremely mildly annoyed. Most people figured it would blow over soon, and no one anticipated this continuing for a week and a half, creating a miasma of fraught tension.

The second phase was elevated annoyance, starting to snap and be less amused characterized this level of irritation. People would try to cover their ears or put on headphones, humming aggressively to block out the syrupy repulsive children's performer with her loathsome little clap. This phase had people picking their absolute least favorite part of the song. Her inflection on certain words, her timing between verses. I think it's pretty clear already which part I hated most.

The next phase was a bounce back out to absurdity. It became funny how annoying it was and people would sing along as if to challenge the song's authority over their psyche. This paired exceptionally poorly with people in phase two as they'd often lash out at the people giving more voice to their hell.

The fourth phase was a dead-eyed madness. People would stare straight ahead and their lips would silently mouth the familiar words. The song had pounded its way into their very soul and was inextricably linked to auditory output. They often didn't even realize if they began chanting along.

The fifth and final phase was pure uncut pubescent rage. Kids would scream, attack each other, and in a truly epic end to the event hurl a cafeteria chair with such force at the speaker in the cafeteria to irreparably damage the sound system.

The seniors got funding for a party, but some of it had to go to repair the damages, which were substantial.

[sleepysturn]

1 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗋𝗒 - 𝖼.𝗌. ౨ৎ

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁

in which it’s your and chris’s one year anniversary and chris makes a special instagram post for her.

TW: none! maybe cursing if you think that’s a TW

a/n: hey pretty people!! i’m really excited to write this! i hope you enjoy this!! please leave requests and look at my masterlist to see if you want anything to be posted! love youuuu! ౨ৎ

notes: (when speaking: chris | y/n )

🏷️: @luv-sturno @luvr4miya @miss-delicious

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁

flashback

chris and y/n have been best friends their entire lives. y/n had bad experiences with men before this.

one night y/n walks into chris’s room with tears.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart”

chris said with a frown.

“he cheated on me.. he’s had another relationship with a different girl the entire time.”

she said in tears.

“oh y/n.. c’mere.”

she walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. he put her into his arms to comfort her.

“why am i unlovable..”

“you’re not.. men just suck. no i take that back. boys suck. a real man wouldn’t treat you like that.”

“but this is the second time i’ve been cheated on. and that was my second relationship.”

she cried into his shoulder.

“you’ll find someone i promise.”

“i’m never dating anyone ever again..”

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

a month after that, chris has spent all of his free time with y/n to make her feel loved and safe. she needed it and chris wanted to be with her.

chris and y/n have both developed feeling for each other over the time.

chris took y/n to the spot they have been going to since they were around 16.

that’s where he asked her to be his girlfriend.

y/n was hesitant about it due to her past relationships, but she knew chris was a good person. he was the man, not boy, she needed.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

5:49PM they aren’t together

chris and y/n were going to be together for exactly one year tomorrow at 7:32PM.

after y/n said yes, he was sure to look at the date and even the time to make sure when this time came, he could make the perfect post on instagram.

before chris went to y/ns house, he got the post set up and set an alarm on his phone.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

chris arrived at y/ns apartment.

y/n buzzed him in and waited at the door for him to walk in. she was really excited to see him. this has been the only real relationship she has been in and she really loved chris.

chris opened the door and received a tight hug the minute he walked in.

he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head.

they eventually pulled away and chris handed her a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

y/n smiled and took them.

“awww chris.. i never knew you were such a romantic.”

she said in a slight teasing tone.

neither chris nor y/n were very romantic, they were just happy to spend time together and been themselves.

“yeah but this day is important. we have to be a least a little romantic.”

he said smiling at her.

“also.. happy almost one year, ma.”

“almost?”

she looked at in confusion.

“well whenever you said yes i looked at the time so i would know the exact time when this day came.”

she smiled at him and looked down.

“and what time was that?”

“exactly 7:32PM”

“aww chris i love you..”

she hugged him tightly once again nuzzling her head in the crock of his neck.

“i love you more baby..”

he kissed the top of her head once again.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

the time came and chris pulled out his phone.

*christophersturniolo posted for the first time in a while*

“go look at what i posted”

chris said excitedly.

i grabbed my phone curiously and opened instagram.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

liked by matthew.sturniolo, nicolassturniolo, and liked by 412k others

christophersturniolo happy 1 year to my amazing, beautiful, hot, sexy, gorgeous, pretty, funny, perfect girlfriend (wife). you are truly the best thing that has ever happened to me. i am so proud to be able to call you mine. i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. thank you for putting up with all my bullshit and thank you for always being there for me. i don’t know what i would do without you. you’ve helped me through everything since day 1. i can’t wait for more years to come. i love you so so fucking much. 🩷

matthew.sturniolo this is the cutest shit i’ve ever seen. congrats you guys🤍

nicolassturniolo if you don’t get married and have 278293916 kids, i’ll end my life.

y/n.y/l/n i love you so much chris. happy one year baby☹️🩷

christophersturniolo i love you more mama🩷

user529716793753 i want and NEED this

sturnioloeats THIS IS SO CUTE

hater5178 they won’t last😂

nicolassturniolo you won’t last in these comments 😂 *block cutely*

fan5289 NICK ATEEE

fan9290 jealous jealous jealous giiirll

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

y/n looked up from her phone in tears and looked over at chris.

“what’s wrong baby..”

“i love you so much. i don’t deserve you”

“you deserve everything”

chris leans in and kisses her.

“i love you baby. happy one year..”

“i love you more. happy one year.”

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁

[notjustjavierpena]

Eat

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Pussy? Eaten. Stomach? Butterflies. Hotel? Trivago.  Think this takes place short after Gush.

Summary: You tell Joel that you cannot come from getting eaten out, but he isn’t convinced. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (mdni), dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, soft soft soft and patient joel, nipple play, pussy eating, dirty talk, intense orgasm, pet names , bit of praise kink and body worship

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49669783

Eat

Joel has you completely naked and pinned to his bed. It’s a Saturday afternoon, sun is pining in through the curtains and heating up the room that’s already warm from your bodies being entwined. You have yet to get out of bed despite needing a shower, perhaps some food for your growling stomach, and maybe a glass of ice water from how sweaty your body is when you are in the older man’s proximity. He makes your heart pound.

He hovers over you whilst on his knees between your legs, hands on your wrists and gaze hungry as he contemplates what he wants to do with you. Your stomach drops as he asks, “Will you lemme have it? Lemme eat your pussy, princess?”

It’s not that you don’t think this is sexy. It is just that. Though, despite how many times Joel has made you come during the summer, he actually hasn’t gone down on you yet. 

He has tried a million times though, but you have always playfully pushed his head away every time he has tried to descend on your body, distracted him with a blowjob, or made him finger your cunt instead. At this point, you still haven’t told him that the reason is that you simply don’t like it. 

“Joel,” you avoid his gaze, turn your head away, “I—“

Joel hasn’t heard hesitation from you before, only the jokes that he hasn’t taken to heart. He lets go of one of your wrists, takes hold of your chin, and guides your head back so you face him again. He furrows his brow at the uncertainty in your eyes that meet his, “What’s a’ matter?”

“Nothing,” you play dumb, avoiding his curious look once more but he snaps his fingers in front of you to regain your attention. You groan at how well it works, “Why would anything be wrong? It’s just… I don’t really like it. I can’t come from it.”

Joel narrows his eyes slightly, not convinced, “Why’d you think you can’t come from it?”

“This guy I was with,” you begin and it’s Joel’s turn to look uncertain. You want to roll your eyes; doesn’t he know that he has ruined everyone else for you by now? 

“Years ago,” you add, “He told me I took too long, so maybe I just, you know, couldn’t. I didn’t want to try again.” 

Joel doesn’t get pissed at the guy or start a rant like you expect him to do (something about that boy taking this sort of experience from you and turning it into something negative). Instead, he starts laughing to the point where he needs to rest his forehead against your shoulder to calm himself because the pout you give him just makes him laugh harder. 

“What?” You push at his head in annoyance. He cannot even hold onto your other wrist anymore. 

“Took too long. Jesus,” his laughter is interrupted by a cough. You can feel his chest vibrating against your own, “He was bullshittin’ you, baby girl. What a lazy piece of shit, and what range of stupid lil’ fuckers you’ve allowed to have what’s mine.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I hate it,” you squirm underneath him at his choice of words, reaching for his hair with your hands to pull at it gently, “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.”

“It is kinda funny,” he looks up at you through his lashes. There’s something sweet to his voice whilst his eyes darken, “Hey now. It’s just… ya said ya didn’t squirt either, and then fuckin’ wet the bed.”

You go beet red, “Joel. God.”

“I’m merely a man just tryna prove a point,” he jokes, earning a glare. Something shifts a little in the air and then he isn’t playing anymore, “Will ya lemme try? Just f’me? We can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t know,” you sound unsure. 

“We’ll go reeeal slow,” he pushes.

“O-okay,” you say. What’s the harm in letting him try? It’s not like it is uncomfortable for you, but rather just slightly boring and awkward. 

“Okay’s not a yes, princess,” Joel crawls up to try to kiss your uncertainty away. He pecks your lips over and over again, switching not long after to pepper your face with more gentle kisses instead. They’re scattered across your cheeks, lips, nose, above your eyebrows, soft eyelids, and chin. He doesn’t let up until you giggle sweetly. 

“Yes!” You squeak and mess up his hair, “Eat some damn pussy, if it means that much to you.”

“Try to relax for me,” he instructs and pushes himself to sit up again. His eyes have darkened further, “How do you want ya legs?”

You bend your legs, planting your feet firmly on the bed and spreading yourself open enough for Joel’s broad shoulders to fit between your thighs. He doesn’t go down yet though, keeping his promise of taking things slow in case you want to stop before it gets too intense. 

His lips connect to where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing his nose firmly into you to inhale your scent. It must be nothing but sleep and sweat by now. He opens his mouth against your skin, sucks across your collarbone until he reaches your jugular notch. He dips his tongue into the dent, and licks off the sweat before murmuring, “I can feel you not relaxin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a pounding heart and you mean it, curl your toes, but he shushes you immediately. 

“No, no. This ain’t on you, baby. Tell me what I can do to make ya relax,” he pulls back to look at your face. He looks so gorgeous with the sun hitting his body like this. 

“Talk to me,” you whisper without knowing why. 

“My baby wants to hear how gorgeous she is?” He asks as he goes back to putting his mouth on your throat. You tip your head back, and he hums against you, “How perfect ‘n beautiful ‘n sexy? Perhaps a little spoiled too?”

“Mhm, yes,” you rest your hand on the back of his neck when he starts to descend. His lips trail down between your breasts, and his huge palm covers one of them whilst he sucks on the other. He is eager, cheeky enough to tug your nipple into his mouth with his teeth. You moan softly.

“Fuckin’ love your tits, Jesus, look at you,” he mumbles absentmindedly to himself before going back in. He dares to suck a light purple mark onto your skin just close enough to your nipple so that you can cover it up and keep it a secret between the two of you even if going to the lake with friends and wearing your skimpy bikini.

You groan and arch your back when he switches to the other one of your tits, cupping it still whilst lapping at your nipple. He flicks his tongue across it just when you think he might pull away, causing you to let out a long drawn-out whine. 

“You fuckin’ love that, don’t ya?” He kisses the swell of your breast, tugs a little with his hand. You close your eyes, bolts of arousal shooting up your spine again when he suckles once more. 

Slowly, you find that much of the nervousness is seeping out of your body with every kiss, lick and suck of your salty skin. It may be the time to admit that Joel knows just which buttons to push to turn you into putty. It may also be the time to admit that you are starting to get excited about what is going to happen. Nervous but excited.

“You’re so soft… like damn silk,” he admires whilst he goes lower. His nose brushes along the length of your stomach, tickling a little to the point where you shiver and let out a soft sigh. He relishes in it, “Damn, baby. Listen to that sound.”

You rake your nails across his scalp when he nips at your skin. Heat is pooling in your belly and you can feel slick drip onto the sheets, running down the cleft of your ass, “Touch my pussy, Daddy.”

Joel tenses visibly at the nickname. He grips your hip, and somehow becomes a little rougher in everything he does, “Gotta wait. Maybe your disaster college boyfriend didn’t get ya worked up enough. I definitely ain’t gonna make that mistake.”

He crawls further down, kisses open-mouthed and hot right below your belly button several times. Even places the flat of his tongue against the skin there to lick long languid stripes, “Won’t start until you beg me to kiss your little twitchin’ clit.”

“But I’m so wet,” you pout, flexing the muscles in your stomach. When you try lifting your hips to find some kind of friction, he pushes you right back down into the mattress. 

“Stop,” he warns sternly. The hand on your hip runs across your belly, teases over your mound and ghosts over your clit until you cry feebly for him, “Do you want me to just touch ya between your pretty legs?” 

“I told you I don’t like the other thing,” you reply to spite him and egg him on. He smacks one of your thighs, wiggling the flesh after. 

“Liar,” he breaks eye contact to look right down at your cunt. You are sure that he can see how you clench around nothing, clit so hard that it is exposed from underneath the hood. You are so ready for him to follow through, no matter the nervousness in your body, “The anticipation wouldn’t have you this excited if yadidn’t care. You’ll fuckin’ let Daddy live between your thighs after he’s done eating.” 

“Fine,” you huff, spreading your legs further to punctuate your sentence, “Put your mouth on my pussy. Prove it.”

Joel groans at the sight of you giving in to him. He gets comfortable on the bed, legs hanging out over the edge. One arm scoops underneath you to curl around your right thigh and the other rests on top of your left. He splays his hand across your sternum, and almost automatically, you reach for it and tug at two of his fingers as if needing something to hold onto for dear life. 

“Now we talkin’,” he smirks. 

“Hold on,” you interrupt, heart almost beating out of your chest with how horny you feel. That, and the fact that what Joel is about to do to you seems to be the most intimate thing you can think of. It feels dangerous, exciting, and scary.

You put another pillow behind your back and head, so you can watch him over the top of your tits and his hand. He grumbles but waits. 

“Go,” you say with an apologetic smile, “Just wanted to see you.”

“Ain’t you adorable?” Joel gazes up at you to follow through on your wish, “Ready?”

“Just wanna come now,” you promise, “‘m just nervous. Makes me fidget.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, breath ghosting over your pussy as he lowers himself down slowly, “Makes ya toes curl too.” 

You cannot quite believe that you have Joel Miller’s face between your legs right now, and even less so believe the hungriest smile in history that he is sporting. It is enough to make you blush, letting go of Joel’s hand and reaching up to cup your face when the anticipation becomes overwhelming. You rest your pinkies in front of your mouth, palms burning from being clasped around your cheeks but it feels like you might lose it if you let go.

The simple brush of his tongue that he chooses as a starting point has you squirming on the bed. His tongue is warm and flat against you, licking how he had done it against the sensitive skin of your stomach. 

Your stomach muscles twitch. It feels… good. Better than the first time you did it. 

“Okay?” He asks in a hum, looking up at you through his lashes with genuine eyes. You nod slowly, and he lowers again to press a soft kiss to your sensitive clit. 

And then another.

And another. 

You make a noise best described as a soft sigh. 

Then he goes lower, the kisses becoming more sloppy and wet. He stops when he reaches your quivering cunt, lets out his tongue to scoop up some of the slick that has gathered and is spilling down between your cheeks. He then licks a long stripe all the way up to your clit, and laps at it like he is eating a damn ice cream cone. 

“Mhmm, tastes so fuckin’ good, baby, like heaven,” he continues with his small licks, the hand on your chest finding your left nipple. Tugs like he knows you like. 

You moan for the first time, not sure if you have repressed the urge to do so. He takes it as a sign to keep going, stiffening his tongue to run it between your folds repeatedly and eventually settling on your clit again. He flicks the tensed-up muscle against the nub, setting up a pace that suddenly causes you to whine.

“Ohh,” you swallow thickly, part your lips and breathe heavily. A muscle in the thigh that Joel is holding flexes involuntarily, and you can feel him smirk against you when he moves back to open-mouthed kisses. 

“No, go back,” you demand, “Please.”

“Yeah?” Joel pulls back instead to tease you. He removes his hand from your thigh to suck his thumb into his mouth. He makes you tremble at the sight, but even more when he circles your clit with the pad of the finger after, “You like Daddy’s tongue on your pussy, baby?”

You hesitate for a moment.

“Say it,” he still draws lazy circles.

“Feels so good,” you admit finally with a groan, “You’re always right.”

“Know I am,” he kisses your inner thigh. The hand on your breast moves to rub soothingly up and down your belly, “‘bout time you realized.”

“I want you to keep going,” you say with a shy smile, blinking down at him, “Please, Daddy?”

His hands still on you, but then he reaches to place both hands on your inner thighs to spread you out a little further. You fall back into the pillow, and he sinks into you again, “Whatever baby wants, baby gets.”

You have never actually thought about how big his mouth is before. In fact, it is huge in comparison to everything about you. He is able to stretch his lips over every inch of your cunt, and he gladly does.

Your breath hitches before you let out a drawn-out moan. Joel eats you out enthusiastically; he licks, sucks, and even dips his tongue inside of you for a moment too. You can feel the world closing in on you, shrinking to nothing but the pressure that builds. 

“It’s—“ you want to say something that makes sense, because whatever you had done in the dim light of your college dormitory a few years prior was definitely not this, but there are no words that describe how overwhelming his slick tongue is, “It’s— oh God.”

You squeal pathetically as your cunt teeters on the edge of an orgasm. You try to press your thighs inwards to make the intensity go away, but Joel is so much stronger than you.

It hits you then. Fuck, it’s going to happen; you’re going to come with his mouth between your legs, and he is never going to let you live this down. This is not what you had planned. There is a little part of you that knows you would have relished in being right for once, but there’s a much bigger part that thanks the Gods that you aren’t going to live forever without coming like this. 

You close your eyes as you groan, but it makes Joel slow down, “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart, look at me.”

He sucks again, and your hands fly to his hair, but it only goes on for a second, “Ya doing so well. Does it feel good, princess?”

“You’re being mean,” you whimper, tugging at the strands of hair that you have between your fingers, “Make me come.”

Joel follows through then. He buries his nose in your mound and sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks with how much effort he puts into it. When you start thrashing on the bed, he wraps his arms around your legs and holds you tightly in place until you fall apart right below his mouth. 

You shriek as your cunt spasms. If not for Joel’s strength, you are sure that you would have accidentally kneed him in the face, because your legs lose control of themselves as if the orgasm has severed any connection to them. 

“Fuck, Daddy,” you break the swearing rule as your orgasm peaks, pushing and pulling his head away because you don’t have a clue whether you want more or less. Your back arches as Joel keeps licking through your drenched folds, you think you might have started to cry too. 

Shaking breaths echo through Joel’s bedroom as you come down. Joel has removed your hands from his head, and you have slumped into the mattress with a whimper. Nothing has ever felt more dirty. 

“Are you okay?” He asks after crawling up the bed to lay beside you. He rubs your stomach with his broad hand, and even that makes you let out a feeble sigh. 

You laugh with exhaustion, but don’t reply. 

“I do good?” He asks with a lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his hand over his soaked mouth and chin. 

You turn your head to look at him but then start giggling, pointing to your own nose, “You got a little… you know.”

He doesn’t get it when he wipes his hand over his nose the first time. You laugh harder due to the dopamine flowing through your system, and he grumbles, “Well help me then, kiddo.” 

When you beckon him closer, he moves without hesitation, and as you run your index finger down his nose to catch your own shiny arousal, you try to push down the feeling of butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

It’s a feeling that needs to go away. You can’t possibly love Joel Miller and survive.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[sparklefics]

Losing you

Bucky & avenger!reader

WC: 1,185

Summary: a near death experience puts things in perspective.

Warnings: near death experience (not detailed tho), mentions of injury and blood. Language!

I wrote a thing!! It’s been months since I’ve been inspired/ had time to write. Here’s a little angsty fluff.

Gif not mine.

[Masterlist]

Since you joined the team you’ve gotten along with everyone. Missions are successful at least 90 percent of the time.

For the last nine months you’ve been partnering up with Bucky. He’s damn good at his job and you get along just fine, at least when you’re on the field.

Off the field is an entirely different story.

It’s not so much that you don’t get along, it’s just you don’t hang out outside of work. The only time you ‘hang out’ is during training.

You wouldn’t consider him a friend— at least not like Sam is. Bucky is merely your teammate, your partner.

Normally Bucky is cool, calm and collected until the day you get hurt in the field.

“Star, come in.” Bucky speaks through the comms but is only met with silence so he tries again. “Agent Star, come in!”

Star is the code name Sam gave you when you joined his crusade as Captain America. He liked to joke around about his Stars and Stripes and the Sentinel of Liberty, respectively you, Joaquin and Bucky.

Bucky turns back to the last checkpoint and his body goes rigid as he takes in the scene before him. There you are laying on a puddle of blood—yours, he realizes.

He doesn’t take the time to over analyze what went down, all he cares about right now is getting you to safety.

—————

It’s scary to put so much on someone. To let them be your everything, he hadn’t realized that was what had happened. To him you were just his partner.

Until he almost lost you.

That’s when he realized what’s really at stake here. Not only your life, but his happiness.

—————

Three days, that’s how long it takes for you to wake up.

“Ow. That hurt.” You groan and hear Sam chuckle, when you bat your eyes open you see Bucky storming out of the room.

“That’s not funny, Star.” Sam says. “You scared us. How come you didn’t call for backup?”

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. And yes, he was here the whole time, barely got him to eat and shower.”

“Where’s Stripes?” You deflect and ask about Joaquin.

“Coffee run.” Sam stares towards the doorway and sighs. “Buck was the one that found you.”

“Hmm. I think he might be mad at me— you know for almost dying.”

“He’s entitled to that, you’re his partner after all.”

—————

Bucky never comes back to the med bay. In fact you don’t see him for weeks, until you’ve been given the all clear to go back out on the field.

You approach him silently at the gym while he’s pummeling a punching bag. Three bags already discarded after he ripped them open.

“Hey Liberty!”

“Don’t call me that. You know I fucking hate it.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Who said I was?” He turns around and you’re not ready for that tender look he gives you. A mixture of guilt that you almost died on his watch and something else you can’t pinpoint and it almost makes you think that he might actually care.

As scary as it was, almost dying put so much in perspective for you. First thing’s first, before you passed out on the field your very last thought was Bucky’s smile. That was strange…yes, he’s your partner but you were about to die and your last thought was of him not begging for help just one last smile of Bucky’s.

Secondly, it felt so off and hurtful seeing him walk out as soon as you woke up. You didn’t know why it hurt but the fact that it did meant that you wanted him there when you woke up. Or at least you expected him to be there, he is your partner after all.

You almost lost everything.

You almost lost him.

It’s infuriating how he managed to become something more than just your partner without you even realizing it. Though all your anger dissipates with the look he gives you. None of it matters when he’s looking at you and touching you so delicately.

Bucky traces a finger ever so delicately over the still fading bruise on your cheek bone.

You hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close to you. Or why the disheveled look he’s got going on looks so good on him. Has he ever looked better? Yes, but today he looks kinda hot and vulnerable, in a way that you just wanna comfort him, run your hands through his hair, cuddle the shit out of him.

Out of nowhere you grab his face and kiss him— on the lips!

“You can’t blame me for that. I almost died.”

You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise he doesn’t pull back, instead he deepens the kiss.

“Shut up, I'm still mad at you.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Ha!” You pull back just enough to slap a hand on his chest. “I knew it! You are mad at me!”

Bucky pulls you right back to his arms and rests his forehead on yours. “I’m just…I can’t lose anyone else. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. You got hurt out there, I should’ve—”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, “James Buchanan Barnes it is not your fault I got hurt. I should’ve called for backup, it’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”

“Yes it is. You’re my partner.”

“You say that like it means something else. What are you really trying to say, Sarge?”

As if the kiss you two shared hadn’t made it clear this certainly would.

“Star, you are everything to me.”

And your anger makes an appearance again, you pull away from him. “I’m finding that a little hard to believe, cause since I woke up all you’ve done is avoid me.”

“I’m just— seeing you there in a puddle of blood it fucked me up.”

“Waking up and seeing my partner walking out on me fucked me up. You were the last thing on my mind before I passed out. I was trying to call for— I was going to call for you when I blacked out. Then I wake up and see you walk out the door and never come back.”

This isn’t how Bucky pictured this moment. It should’ve gone like in the movies. You both admit your feelings, kiss and voila: happy ending. Not you angry at him, with unshed tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot that can’t handle his own feelings. But I love you. I need you to know that. I love you.” He squeezes your hands.

“That’s the thing Bubba, I love you too. So don’t you dare walk out on me ever again.”

You pull him in for a hug and you climb on him like a koala, arms around his shoulders and legs around his torso. He tells you he loves you again and assures you that he’s not going anywhere without you. “Well then, take me to my room. You owe me three weeks worth of cuddles.”

[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

-----

It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following.  It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish.  She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone.  At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work.  “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up.  Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh.  Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?”  Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands.  “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film.  It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”  

“That’s… really weird.”  Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.  

Lois does laugh at that.  “It is, a bit.  But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says.  “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says.  Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.  

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says.  “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.  

“You can tell me,” Lois says.  “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.”  Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.  

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up.  Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back?  She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again.  Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories.  Those are all Batman.”  That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.  

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension.  But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home.  There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says.  "He's a good friend of mine.  And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully.  "Right.  I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him.  He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins.  "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice.  Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension.  Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on.  Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off.  If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says.  “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted.  “I— yeah, that works.  Not like I have anywhere else to be.”  He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

[pandorxxx]

Never existed…

Neteyam (20) x omatikaya fem reader (19)

Tags: @neytirishottie requested a “jealous Neteyam” story so I decided to make the most toe curling, eye rolling smut that anyone has ever read. You’re welcome😎

🔞Minors do not interact🔞

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, pinning, rough sex, oral, and cursing.

For the best reading experience, I recommend listening to I never existed by Chase Altantic. (That’s what I wrote this smut to😌.)

Neteyam watched through gritted teeth as you laughed at his younger brothers stupid jokes from afar. He was somewhat jealous that you were best friends with lo’ak considering that he had a huge crush on you. Neteyam couldn’t help but think that you had a thing for lo’ak. That maybe you secretly liked him, and that you secretly wanted to be mated with him. That you touch yourself to him at night, or that you daydream about him. He hated that lo’ak was living out his dream, but all of that was going to end today.

“What the hell is so damn funny? He can’t be that fucking funny?” He asked through a clenched jaw as he glared at the the two of you in the distance.

“Why do you care anyway? You look like a creep just staring at them.” Kiri explains as she eats her food. She glared at Neteyam with a confused look.

“No way you like y/n? Wether you like it or not, it’s just a matter of time before they mate with each other. Everyone knows.” She says as she takes another bite of her food, side eyeing Neteyam to see his reaction. He quickly snaps his head at his sister with pursed lips.

“You want to bet? All I need is 10 minutes, and I’ll have her hooked.” He explains with an eerie chuckle as he looks back at you, still gawking over lo’ak in the distance.

“First off, eww. Second, I would actually like to

see that. Lo’ak and y/n are obsessed with each other. There is no way you could get in the middle of that.” Kiri explains as she points in you and lo’aks direction.

Neteyam slowly stands to his feet, and looks down at kiri with a dark grin.

“Watch me…” he says as he walks towards the two of you. As he walked closer, he got angrier. Seeing your legs draped over lo’aks as he draws circles along your back. You two laughing as he pushed your hair behind your ear. How close you two were to each other. It made his blood boil. He was now standing infront of you two, going unnoticed. You and lo’ak were too busy in your own world. Neteyams face curled up as he watched you two completely ignore him. He clears his throat loudly, finally earning your attention.

“What do you want, bro?” Lo’ak asks his brother playfully as he looked back at you, earning a laugh.

“Tuk wanted to know if y/n could help her finish this bracelet she was working on?” Neteyam shifts his eyes to you as he scratches his head pointing back at his families hut. You look at lo’ak for confirmation to go, and he nods.

“O-ofcourse, she’s in the hut?” You ask, as you look up at Neteyam with doughy eyes. He almost melted right then and there, but he kept his composure.

“Yeah, come on!” He chuckles as he pulls you up by your arm. You laugh alittle as you didn’t realize that this was his attempt to flirt.

“Hey! chill out, big bro! You know she’s mine.” Lo’ak says jokingly as he shoots a glare at his brother. You bend down to hit lo’ak as you laugh.

Even if it was a joke, those words were like daggers to neteyams heart.

“She’s all yours, bro. But if you would excuse us, we gotta go.” Neteyam winks at his brother before wrapping his arm around you, and walking off.

“SHES MINE, BRO!” Lo’ak shouts as he watches you two walk off. Neteyam fans lo’ak off as he keeps walking towards the hut with you. You walk into the hut first to see no one there. You turn around to see Neteyam closing the makeshift door behind him.

“Where is Tuk?” You ask nicely as you let out a small chuckle. Neteyam turned around to face you with his arms crossed. He tilted his head and looked you up and down as he licks his lips. Your heart immediately sunk to your feet as you finally realized what was happening.

He slowly walks closer to you, as you back up.

“Neteyam, wait.” you plead with him as you put your hand up, still backing away slowly.

“Wait for what?” He says as he walks closer to you, glaring at your curvy body. Your back suddenly hit the wall of the hut, making you jump at the impact. You start to hyperventilate as you notice him getting closer to you. You immediately pull your knife out of your thigh band, and hold it up to him. He surrenders with his hands up as he lets out a low chuckle, still looking at you as if he was starving.

“What is so funny?” You shout shaking the knife with every syllable. He laughs again with his hands still up as he takes one step closer.

“I could ask you the same question. Lo’ak is not that fucking funny, my love.” He says through gritted teeth, as he looks to the ground and then back up at you.

“What’s it to you? what we laugh about is none of your damn business!” You shout as you take a step closer to him.

He growls loudly causing you to jump and drop the knife. You both look at the knife and then back at each other. You both run for it, but Neteyam was faster, and stronger. He picked up the knife and threw it to the side. He starts walking towards you again, as you back up. You back into that familiar wall again as he finally makes his way to you, placing his hand over your head, as he glared at you angrily. He grabs your neck with his free hand, and you shutter under his touch, as you turn your head away from him.

“What If I told you that I could make you feel better than lo’ak ever could, huh? What would you say to that?” He asks as he slides his hand down from your neck to your breasts, and down your slim waist pulling you closer. You would be lying if you said that his touch didn’t make you melt, but it felt wrong. You and lo’ak were going to be mated one day, so why was he doing this?

“Id say you’re crazy! You know that lo’ak and

I are to be mated. I thought we were friends, Neteyam?” You look up at him with tears threatening to fall from your eyes, as you struggle to get out of his hold on.

“You know that we’re way past that, y/n. You and lo’ak are not right for each other. I could do so much more for you.” He says as he wipes the tears from your cheek, softening his grip on your neck. He bends down to your ear, and kisses it causing you to gasp in pleasure.

“If you give me 10 minutes of your time, It be like lo’ak never existed.” He whispers in your ear as he parts your legs with his knee. He slowly squats down infront of you while keeping eye contact. He gently unties your loincloth and throws it to the side. He immediately attaches his mouth to your glossy cunt causing you to throw your head back in pure bliss. He gently lifts your leg over his shoulder to get better access as he starts to attack your clit. You grab his braids and push him into you more. At this point you were a moaning mess. Trying to keep you quite, he reaches up to your mouth to cover it as he’s still devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your legs start to shake, and you loose balance. He notices and lifts you up into the air by your thighs as his mouth is still attached to your cunt.

“Don’t worry, i got you, baby.” he looks up at you with a smirk before devouring you again.

“Fuck, Neteyam!!! Please-“ you scream as you try to get out of his pit bull lock to no avail.

“Please what, y/n? What’s wrong baby?” He groans into your heat triggering your orgasm. You start to shake uncontrollably in his arms, as he sucks on your clit one last time.

“Shhh, you’re okay babe.” He pats your thigh as you are still shaking with your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Shitttt, put me downnnn!” you moan as you try to get out of his arms once more. He chuckles and let’s you down slowly. You immediately fall to the ground once he lets you go due to your shaky legs.

“Ouchhh, neteyammm!” You whine as you reach for him to pick you up. He chuckles, but obliges. He picks you up and pins you to the wall again. He grabs you by the neck and crashes his lips into yours. You run your hands through his braids as you kiss him back. He taps your thigh signaling for you to jump, and you quickly do so.

You moan in his mouth once you feel his hard cock poking at your pelvis. He pulls away from the kiss, and lifts you up alittle with one hand as he unties his loincloth with the other.

“Be a good girl, and help me out? It hurts so bad, y/n.” He pleads with you as he throws his loincloth to the side. He pulls his cock up to meet your dripping cunt, as he pulls you in more. You immediately moan at the feeling of his cock sliding up and down your slit. He lifts you up one more time, and gently slides you down onto him. You shut your eyes and whimper at the new found fullness. He bites his lip at your reaction as he starts to thrust into you slowly. You look everywhere but into his eyes, afraid that you might fall in love. He catches on and kisses you passionately before pulling away to scan your face.

“Look at me, y/n.” he says as he sends you slow, deep strokes causing you to throw your head back as tears well in your eyes from the pleasure.

“Fuck Neteyam!!! I can’t, please-“ you plead as you look down at his cock sliding in and out of you. That image alone made you loose it. Your jaw dropped as your eyes shut tightly.

“Yeah, look at what I’m doing to you. You feel me, baby?” He groans in your ear as he speeds up the pace. You were squirming in his arms as you felt your high coming for the second time. You grab his arms as you let out a high pitched scream before you start shaking again.

“Yes, let that shit go! Give it to me!” He says watched you come undone for the second time. He feeds you a couple more strokes to help

You ride out your high until he finally pulls out and puts you down. You could barely stand up once he put you down causing him to laugh at you. He turns you around towards the wall, and grabs your arms, holding them behind your back. He slides into you slowly, as he leans into the crook of your neck.

“Oh, great mother!” You moan as he starts thrusting into you again. He bites your neck drawing blood, as he licks it up. You whimper at the mix of pleasure and pain. It was almost overwhelming, causing you to attempt pulling your arms out of his strong grasp, to no avail.

“When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember lo’ak, I promise you that.” He moans before sending you one hard stroke, causing you to scream out. He starts to speed up again as his high is slowly approaching.

“Say my name.” He whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he fucks you dumb. You were so delirious that you couldn’t even form words.

“Say my FUCKING NAME, y/n.” He shouts while still holding your arms behind your back.

“NETEYAM, FUCKK I CANT TAKE IT.” You scream as tears form in your eyes, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach.

“Yeah, just like that! Scream my name again! You belong to me!” He says as he licks the tip of your ear.

“neteyaammm!!!! I’m cumming!!!!” You whine as you start to shake, and clench around him. This sends him into a frenzy as he sends you a few more deep strokes before painting your walls white.

“Fuck!” He groans as he rides out his high, throwing his head back. He keeps his cock in you for a few more seconds, before pulling out of you, watching his cum drip onto the ground beneath you.

He kisses you on the back of your neck before Turning you around, and pinning you on the wall again.

“Lo’ak could never make you feel this good.” He says as he kisses your neck lightly. You look up at his huge figure with puffy eyes.

“Lo’ak who?”

Nah hold on cuhhhh!!! This story is low key good I’m ngl. Anywaysss, send more requests yall, I’m bored 🙄!!!

Outtie ❤️🤘🏾,

Pandorxx

[marymary-diva17]

You remind me of her

Speaking of ones who are gone can be a hard and sad experience, and topic of discussion as the one who no longer with them meant so much to everyone around them.It could also be a good healing for a heart as well.

spider " ........" spider is wide awake as he held a family photo of you his mother and him, when he was just a baby. He is really missing you and everyone else, he had been captured by the rda when the clan was fleeing. He had saved tuk when she had fallen and ended up getting grabbed, by his father who was back from the dead.

quaritch " you should be getting some sleep kid"

spider " I'm not tired I'm good"

quaritch " oh okay mind if I sit with you"

spider " take a sit if you if you want"

quaritch " hey that a picture of you and y/n she in her avatar body"

spider " yes it cherish belong of mine"

quaritch " where is your mom anyway I haven't seen her when we came across the group or is she elsewhere"

spider " she is still with us but in a coma"

quaritch " what I was told she was helping Jake against the fight, with the rda"

spider " well she was until one day she was caught in an action, when I was with her and my cousins she pushed us to safe but she didn't make it in time"

quaritch " ......."

spider " we rush her back to camp and uncle norm along with the other doctors had been, able to save her life by preeminently linking her to her avatar self or good"

Quaritch " so she is okay please tell me she okay"

spider " she is a safe place okay from any harm util she wake up, the navi had helped her as well by doing the eyes of eywa for her ... I wanted to be there when she wake up but it seems like they will not happen"

Quaritch " I promise son I will get you home to her"

spider " I havent see you in all my years of my life and when I finally get the chance, to see you only trouble and danger had come to me and everyone I love why"

Quaritch " I was a soilder following my orders"

spider " well your orders suck and you are just a blind sxkwang following the orders words" Quaritch had soon let out a chuckle as he looked at his son.

spider " what so funny"

Quaritch " right there you remind me of your mom she will always get mad at me, for always doing what Parker and the rda said to me ... she was a women who spoke her mind and made sure I knew of it"

spider " yeah that is mom"

Quaritch " you love this place the same as she did she had said, she could spend all her life her and it seems like she will be"

Quaritch " she even made a new life here after the war and had you, kid and I'm happy for her"

spider " she is a good mom and kind hearted as well, she even made sure I had a good childhood and that no one blamed me for the actions of you"

Quaritch " yes I can see her doing that and I'm sorry for what I have, done in the past reflected on you"

spider " no one really blamed me that much as they saw me as her son, more then you even due she went if the name you picked for me"

Quaritch " hey when we married I said I wanted one kid named after me, so that how you got your name junior"

spider " nope no junior I'm spider I love that name"

Quaritch " fine I will call your spider but others will call you junior"

spider " yes sir do whatever makes you happy colonel"

quaritch " you are definitely your mother son she gave me the same attitude, you were giving me when she was mad or we fought she walked away"

spider " I heard she always won those fights"

Quaritch " she did all of them even when I didn't tell her she won, she won in the end" spider had laugh at quarich words getting a smile from quaritch.

spider " you know there no one new in her life she never remarried, she still has her wedding ring on her song chord"

Quaritch " what do you think that means"

spider " I think she still cares about you sir but I don't fully know yet"

Quaritch " well maybe this chance will give a better start with your mom"

spider " you can try but mess up I feed you to Thanator" some chuckles had been heard from the others, who had been listening to the whole conversation.

spider ' same goes for you all as well so you all can go down as team"

Quaritch " I will remember that young man"

spider " good starting tomorrow we start with training I will help you all learn the ways of the navi, so you are all not walking around here like babies and promise to my mama as well"

quaritch " thank you

spider " your welcome well I'm off to bed see you around old man" spider soon left quairtch alone as he sat there, he is dealing with other version of you.

lyle " so pops what are we going to do"

Quaritch " hush lyle I trying to bond with my son and wife"

lyle " I hope she does wake up some day the kid needs, her it seems like many people need her back in their lives"

Quaritch " yes she does"

other base

norm " how are we going to break this news to her when she wake up"

Jake " we will tell her in time but right now we need to be easy, about the new it could shock her"

max " Jake is right if we tell her right away it can be bad"

????? " what is going on" everyone soon looked at you and saw that you had finally woke up, that when they realized you are back with them and that they will need to share the news with you.

y/n " wait where are we and where is spider ... where is my son"

Jake " y/n you need to clam down as I share this news with you" Jake had soon looked at you as you laid back, as they had told you what had happened. Soon there was only one thing on your mind to get your son back and speak with these recoms. Once you get back your son everything will be okay once again.

[kitsuvil]

— plus one 【picturesque/ayato smau】

【 masterlist 】 there is a written portion here after the first 6 photos!!

“I know I said I'll cling onto you the whole event, but I didn't expect to actually be forced into doing that,” I grumbled as my grip on Ayato's tan suit jacket grew tighter. “It's so crowded…” Before I had the opportunity to react, my hand shifted away from the cloth texture and was replaced by the feeling of cool and gentle skin. “In that case, I believe holding my hand will prove to be more effective," Ayato chuckled. I highly doubt anything like that will make this more effective. If only a great technique to raise my heartbeat, but a heart attack is not what we're aiming for here. We weren't at the event early, but I wouldn't say we were late either, so the number of people already here was astonishing.

"Is there a corner with fewer people we can rest at?" I peeked out from behind Ayato's shoulder. "There should be. Come with me," he began to move forward through the crowd. I had no choice but to be dragged along, though it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as I had expected. He already knew his way around these events, so it made sense that I would look like a lost dog in comparison.

"I almost regret agreeing to come with you." A pout showed up on my face as we finally found an area against a wall that wasn't so densely populated. "Don't worry, it's only like this until everyone gets situated. However, if you want to leave early at any point, just let me know. This is a lot for someone's first time at an event like this." The smile on Ayato's face felt like honey, so much that it almost made me forget why I was overwhelmed in the first place. "I just have to remember everyone is here to bond over photography, and then I'm golden... I think."

"You think? Haha," Ayato chuckled, covering his face with his palm as if he was pretending he didn't find my misery funny. "Hey," my pout grew ever stronger. "It's okay. I understand. There were days when I thought the older photographers were going to maul me like a pack of aggressive bears. Of course, I was only in my late teens at the time. It takes experience, which is why I'm willing to let you hold my hand through this... There was nobody to hold mine when I was alone trying to pave my path through these crowds."

I stayed silent for a moment. There was plenty of time to ponder over his words later, but I couldn't help chewing my lip over them now. It was a reminder that he wasn't so different from me, regardless of our status or position in anything. We were both just photographers, and we happened to become friends, too.

"I remember when I first started taking my photography classes at the Uni. It wasn't too unlike what you're describing now. I was seated next to someone who worked so hard that I thought my brain was going to explode when I peeked at their computer screen."

"But isn't that similar to you now? Working so hard to create a photobook, pushing along through your classes, balancing everything your heart desires. I'm sure even [Name] from the past worked equally hard."

"Then it seems both of us are ever-growing and tweaking our skill," I turned my head to face Ayato instead of the various tables with food I was staring at in order to avoid making eye contact with the man next to me. "Why did you really take me here, instead of your sister or one of your friends?"

"What I already told you is true. I think it can open a lot of doors for you. It might be slightly selfish of me, but I want to make sure your goals are ones you can achieve. Because your future matters to me in that aspect."

Just as quickly as my mouth opened to respond and question Ayato further, it went closed again. There was a crowd of people heading over at full speed now that the event was finally settling into place. Perhaps now wasn't the right time for this conversation. I tried to back away and distance myself from Ayato as the people grew closer, afraid of getting in the way, but I didn't get far before I felt a tug on my hand. By 'not far', I meant not even a single step away.

"I thought you wanted someone to keep the anxieties at bay? Don't say a word about the people coming over, I'll handle them. You only need to listen and stick close, [Name]." Ayato's hand was closed on mine, squeezing it so that I couldn't leave, and the smile on his face never faltered. Neither did his attempt at pulling me closer towards him. So he was serious. Right. The whole reason for me being here was to become comfortable with this community, so it makes sense for me to stick around.

But why was he so painfully insistent, and why was his grip on my hand so comforting, and why did his cologne smell as nice as it did? Why did his voice echo through my skull like smooth water running down a creek? Why was his proximity to me like a warm blanket on a winter night, even when he was the one who pulled me so close when I tried to step away?

"So you all have been gossiping about who I choose to bring to my events like it's any of your business? However, if your interest longs to be satiated so strongly, this is a close friend of mine who is working on diving into the photography world. Treat them with as much respect as you would with me." Ayato was beside me, but for most of this interaction, it sounded like he was miles away. To jump into something as large as this, I felt both thrilled and privileged. But I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat that was fear of too much eyes on me, anxiety that my talent wasn't good enough to even be here.

"Would you like some refreshments? We have sparkling wine, as well as tomato sandwiches personally made by our gourmet chef." The staff member brought my attention back to reality as they offered me a few treats from a platter. "I'm alright, but thank you." I shook off any remaining negative thoughts that were floating around with a deep breath. That was when I realized half of the eyes around us that I originally thought were staring at us with critique and judgment were actually giving looks of bewilderment, almost like they were admiring gazes.

"Don't they look like a power couple?" Two nearby women's conversation faded in through my ears. "I see it. The way Mr. Kamisato is holding their hand... There's no way they're not a couple, right?"

Okay. Maybe not the conversation I want to be eavesdropping on. I tried to grab my hand and shake it away from Ayato's, but it was to no avail. "Is there something wrong?" He looked back at me after waving away a photographer I recognized as the creator of one of the photobooks I had at home, sitting in my dorm room. "No, I guess not... Just how high popularity are some of these people?..." I mumbled. "I think the fact I'm here says enough," Ayato silently laughed, regaining his posture quickly after.

"Can't believe I forgot you're the infamous Kamisato Ayato, pfft," I laughed as some of the pressure dropped off my shoulders. "Only to the majority of people here. To you, I'm just Ayato."

Maybe it wouldn't be too much of a pain to get used to this.

— ruptured appendix situation still going strong but i had to bust out this chapter LOL hopefully the written portion serves as a little treat bc i'm gonna cry myself to sleep if nobody likes it /j, i love it and that's all that matters. ayato is so hot.

— taglist; @griseoo @fangygf @calamitygutz @driftwoodmanor @meigalaxy @kyon-cherri @xiaossocksniffer @quacking-simp @kaitfae @imgayandshesanime @lxry-chxn @ni-ki-ismyluv @cante-lope @kookiibun @kamisatoyato @astolary @dontmindtheevie @sn1perz @0range-juiceee @h3xi2g0n3 @eutopiastar @samyayaya

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Wow, my Baldur's Gate 3 post blew up somewhat... nice. Well, time for more headcanons, of the unapologetically horny variety. (Yes, yes, I know everyone and their mother has done this already, well here's mine. Nyeh.)

Including: Astarion, The Emperor, Gale, Halsin, Jaheira, Karlach, Lae'zel, Raphael, Shadowheart, Wyll, and Zevlor

Tumblr is run by unfun prudes who would like my 30-year-old thoughts to remain Chaste and Pristine™ so filth under the cut until they ban me or whatever

Astarion

So the truly hilarious thing about Astarion is that he claims to be a pillow princess, but is almost always a dom. Like, I find it very funny that he enjoys the Aesthetics™ of being a spoiled brat, too delicate and pampered to lift a finger, but in reality, he's a bit of a work horse who finds having nothing to do dull as rocks.

Not to say that he doesn't enjoy receiving, I fully believe he does, but I think it's mostly relaxing at best and dissociative at worst. We'll assume though he's with a trusted partner for now though, rather than deal with the Hang Ups. I think inevitably he'd eventually roll over and change positions and end up in charge. I think it's an undeniable itch for him, even when he's being treated very well. There's just something so enthralling and exciting about being in control and playing with someone. It gives him a satisfying challenge the way being a pillow princess doesn't.

I think sex is particularly about aesthetics for Astarion as well. Bondage, costume, the art and immersion of it would be appealing. Role play would naturally extend out of this, especially as a safe outlet for some of his more complicated feelings. Succeeding at multiple layers of social interaction and intimacy would be extremely rewarding for him, I think.

He's also a very giving lover. I'm not sure praise would quite do it for him, that's not exactly his build. The submission though... oh yes, that does wonders. And he's very keen to reward that submission with nice things, sweet things, unbearably sweet, more than you can take... that's the kind of torture he's into, whining, begging, pleading, from the too muchness of it all, from how good he's being to you... mmm, yes, that's the stuff. It's soothing to understand you can be in control and not hurt people, to know that the control is not corruptive, not a bad thing in itself. I think it'd do a lot for his confidence and self-image.

Also, very into feeding as a sexual thing. He is a hedonist after all, more pleasure is more pleasure.

(The) Emperor

Hey, haters to the left, please. We believe in free love here and that includes the tentacle-y kind.

Look, okay, the dude comes on... strong. Too strong, to be honest. A little overly possessive, overly needy, but there is a hot, sweet core in there. And with a little patience, time, and reassurance, that can be honed into a respectful balance. If you can be patient and take your time, you can help him understand that he doesn't need to be in your every thought or be constantly touching to still have a deep bond. Do gotta watch those tendencies though.

That said, tentacles are a gift! Strong, dexterous, perfect for holding, squeezing, manipulating, and of course, inserting. It's hard to imagine a more intuitive metaphor for desire than tentacles, constantly grasping as they are. And boy, the Emperor wants. Also potentially has some experience using these, probably has a fair idea of how to make this good for both of you, so a pretty good bonus there.

While the Emperor tends to think he knows best and never enters anything without a plan, I think he'd be willing to take instruction. Your pleasure would be a point of pride so if something could be going better, I think he'd listen. Communication reaffirms trust after all. It's no dishonor to be spoken to or even commanded.

Honestly not sure illithid experience pleasure outside of making you orgasm and just like voyeuring or skimming the pleasure off your brain, so it's probably all about you here. Which also means we're probably not looking at marathon sessions; it'll be just the right amount of attention to a big, satisfying orgasm and then warm, languid rest. But the trick is, you're not going to get any gentle, casual encounters. His focus is unparalleled so it's very hard to back off of 100. That's fun, but can be exhausting, especially if you like a bit of variety.

Gale

Sometimes it's hard to see what Mystra saw in Gale; other times it's blinding. He's the most self-congratulating, infuriating, annoying bastard you know and he's also, somehow, perfect. What the fuck. The basic problem with Gale is that he'll tell you, to your face, that he fucked a goddess and when and where and how and the worst thing of all is he's not lying; he's actually good.

Gale has the enviable qualities of simultaneously being very laid back and very enthusiastic. He's happy with whatever position you suggest and is just thrilled to be invited. Throws himself into whatever's on the table.

Not to say that he doesn't have ideas, god, but he never shuts up about his ideas. And they're all, frustratingly, really good ideas too! "Oh, well I thought since we're in the hot tub, a little ice in my fingertips might be electrifying." "Have you considered the effects of shifting local gravity so you could ride me longer?" "I've taken the liberty of enchanting your dildo so you can feel it when you peg me!" God, don't you just hate him for being right all the time?

And to make matters worse, the stupid prick is full of wondering adoration for you, always trying to give you the best time possible, the best time ever. And he cares So Much he even notices if The Most Sensations Ever isn't the right thing right now and adjusts. He's just as happy to sit and cuddle or read next to each other. Ugh, disgusting. It's like someone made him in the Best Lover Conceivable factory and blew the whole budget on just him! Like, why Mystra gotta ruin the dating scene like that?!

Trouble is, he's obsessively good at doing exactly what you want because he was groomed by a goddess so... ���� Sometimes you have to remind him he's enough. Sometimes you have to let him know that he isn't as good as what he could do for others, that he was already good, just on his own. Sometimes you gotta take care of him because he won't remember and he won't realize. And he might pout and object, but he deserves a good time too. Not that he wasn't having a good time but... you know what I mean. Let him be the focus.

Gale's very into attention and a slow, sweet time. Work him up painstakingly, bring him to the edge of begging, tell him what a good boy he is. He'll be crying with pleasure. Don't let him rush, rushing is a cheap shortcut and it means he doesn't have to endure being adored just as much as he adores you. It's the only time he'll ever be shy, having to accept love. But this should also, of course, always be paired with letting him reciprocate. One-sided affection or interaction would be torture for the poor boy. He wants so badly to be good, but gotta temper that a bit with reminding him he already is.

Halsin

Oakfather giving Mystra a run for her mother for "ruining the dating scene" with this one. Only The Oakfather went "thicc whores only" and the world cried amen for we were blessed.

What can we say about this polyamorous icon that hasn't already been said? Well, perhaps counter to some above examples, Halsin blessedly doesn't have to be at 110% all the time. Having a soft time is just as good as a rough ride. Although... we all know you're getting more of the latter on average, right?

The nice thing about Halsin is you don't have to worry about him denying himself or doing things just because he thinks you want them; he's a master of balance. He absolutely has his own personal, selfish desires and he knows how to serve them in turn. There's something refreshingly organic about Halsin's attraction, he's into you for perceptible maybe even measurable reasons, you don't have to worry about what's going on in that beautiful head of his so much.

A lot of energy in this one though, gotta be aware of that appetite. But hey, if you're into Halsin, you're probably open to maybe a couple more partners, together or separately. Halsin is certainly down for all of those combos.

Very generous lover, not satisfied until you say so. Down for any length of time, any position, but he strikes me as a man who's not into a lot of frills. Sex is about the physical pleasure, those animalistic instincts, and the kinetic energy between people being used and blended to create something more, something almost beyond us. A lot of artifice and dressing up wouldn't make a lot of sense to him and he's not likely to get much out of it. Don't think he'd yuck your yum, but unlikely to participate himself.

Might even prefer multiple partners at once and the longer the session the better. Short sessions are possible, but he's not going to enjoy it as much unless he can get really into the rhythm of it. Again, it's about balancing the energy, which often involves a bit of warm up and getting into the groove to truly satisfy. If one partner, high energy is best if possible. Come in with some goals in mind or you might get overwhelmed. Wouldn't be surprised if sometimes Halsin doesn't come at all due to his unreal stamina and thresholds.

Can't think of a better teacher to help you try something new though. Patient, kind, thoughtful with feedback from long experience. And he's incredibly appreciative of the unique skills every person has, the things only they bring are always valuable to him, something to be cherished and enjoyed. One of the few people who can be instructive, encouraging, and erotic all at the same time. It's a rare breed.

Jaheira

I'd let Mama Harper boss me around any day. And she is decidedly the boss, she's been giving orders since before I was born and that isn't about to change. Strong dom MILF energy here. And she definitely knows what she wants so those orders are going to be clear and consistent.

I don't think the strap is her preference, but I don't think she'd be opposed. But as another druid, I think she likes to go in bare handed, as it were. And, to be fair, she doesn't need help, I've seen those hands work a lash. She's strong and flexible, whatever you ask for she can give. She seems to have less in the raw energy department than Halsin, but I'll chalk that up to not being chief. I think it would take awhile to wear her down though, can't take her for fast or easy. Just like Halsin, I bet she prefers longer sessions to shorter, but would probably be a bit more flexible on this.

I think her real specialty is probably ropes, any kind of bondage. And she seems keen to teach the uninitiated, to make it not scary and safe. Her argument being the restraint in and of itself heightens the pleasure, why not try it? Not a bad argument.

She also probably enjoys herself most getting a work out in. She can be gentle for you, but her own pleasure is found in conquering, mastering. A test of strength or wills would probably be called for here. Tbh, I can't imagine her being that interested until you can prove you're a match for her in some way. Not terribly interested in coddling.

Karlach

Oh, a goddess among mere mortals. Those tits, that ass! She could break me in half and I would thank her, crying tears of joy. Karlach deserves every happiness on earth. Karlach is maybe the most enthusiastic person here, and that's saying something. The feeling of being close to others, but specifically sex, is such an important love language to Karlach. She has high physical needs and so is very excited and very determined to make you have as good a time as she is having. Unfortunately, sometimes this has a spiraling effect that results in questions like "how many orgasms is too many orgasms?" She just gets carried away, poor thing. But, nonetheless, as addictive as a good time is, you'll probably run out of stamina before she does. Though I bet she'd still keep going past the point of discomfort for herself, just because she's so excited and in love and bursting with joy and energy. It's hard to stop when there's so much you want to say and do and experience. Especially after being restrained so long.

On that topic, bondage probably not a good fit here. Anything that prevents touch for her is not really going to be her thing.

On the flip side, there is no such thing as too much, too hard, too long. I cannot imagine someone more eager to gobble you up, to taste you everywhere, to squeeze you close and shudder and gasp until your sweat smells the same. Like... she is here for this, she is into it. And she'll intuitively go for whatever is going to be more tactile, more of your touch and your body on hers. But also more scent, more excitement. She's going to respond like lightning to any little squeak or shiver to get any reaction out of you. She's so hungry for it.

And she's had a lot of time to think of ideas so you won't run dry on creativity for a good long while. Also important to note, she's only going to be a fast draw in the early days when everything is so urgent. She will slow down in time, though I think she'll end up running faster and hotter than most here. Her appetite is strong, but her stamina is actually on the low side. So more orgasms, but less space between them. Over stimulation is going to be huge here.

Not sure she has the patience for role play or anything fancy. This is not to say she isn't vocal she is... very vocal. Constantly. But that's quite affirming. And I think she'd be pretty into displays, perhaps even a bit of exhibitionism. After all, voyeurism/exhibitionism is all she had for awhile, so I suspect that would carry over into now. I think in particular she'd like to show you off, since she has a keen understanding of the eroticism of visuals. Not everyone's cup of tea of course, and she doesn't have to, but she just gets excited and proud. This makes her feel so good she can't help wanting to shout about it.

All of this said, she's also probably the most attentive in safety and aftercare. Halsin is a safety nut as well, but Karlach absolutely dotes. She wants to make sure she didn't hurt you or wear you out in any way and so will make extra, extra sure any little need is taken care of.

Lae'zel

Lae'zel's pussy could kill a man, in fact, it probably has. Not the most romantic of our choices, at least at first, but vigorous, satisfying, honestly intimidating. But, sex is very accessible with Lae'zel. Sex is part of communion for her, but in a different way than Halsin. It's exercise and contest and entertainment and group cohesion all in one. For these reasons, she's not as intimidating as you'd expect because just you saying yes to her pleases her. If she's invited you, that means she's already judged you worthy. She's not going to be upset when giving pointers because she has no hang ups about how sex is supposed to work. She doesn't expect you to read her mind and would probably be mad if you tried. Clear communication is part of this and you already earned the trust for it.

And on the flip side, she will not be distressed by you stating your desires because she's also not trying to read your mind. She wants you to trust her enough to say what you want. Honestly, she's probably a good starting place for virgins, her openness would be soothing. She might even have the patience to instruct, though she's not a terribly patient woman in general.

Also, not to bury it, Lae'zel just likes sex, the sweat, the scents, the weird, sticky feelings of it, the shivering glow through the body. Sex is fun for her and that's obvious in her vocalizations, both articulated words and not. And she knows that the more times you have sex with the same partner, the easier it gets, the more enjoyable it is. I think she'd like watching that progress, like a good team coming together. It's a sign of trust and affection. And in time, if she comes to trust you a lot, the sex becomes even more intimate and vulnerable, as you start to trust each other experimenting, going by instinct rather than plan. Those little shifts would be thrilling for her as she learns to improvise and accept new ideas. Surprising her would be delightful because she always thinks she has the upper hand. How fun to show her that's not always the case.

Lae'zel is a dom more out of necessity than desire, I think. She's probably a switch, happy with whatever suits; she just ends up doming a lot because no one has earned her subbing/she doesn't trust enough yet. But taking turns would also be valuable team building for her, important everyone trains even the skills they're weak at. Together, we become better at sex and at understanding each other. Weirdly, a very emotionally healthy outlook.

Raphael

I think I feel about Raphael as others feel about Enver Gortash. I want to project every flithy, nasty ass thought onto this wet rag of a man. So, without further ado: humiliation is the name of the game. I think if you fucked Haarlep in front of him, binding him so he couldn't do anything, only watch as Haarlep groans about how much better you are than Raphael, I think he'd come in his over-tailored pants. Cuckold the shit out of him. I think he needs to be stepped on, pegged, and drooling in the street. Never let him have his own way. I think he'd see stars getting pushed around like that. I think it would be great for him. Just use him like a cock sleeve, really dig in there. Absolutely deserved.

Like, imagine if this whole thing is his cringefail attempt to court Zariel. Imagine that level of humiliation. Works on this for thousands of years, only to burn his own house down over a few puny mortals stealing his shit. Oh my goddddd.

If nothing else, it would be Fucking Hilarious.

Shadowheart

So Shadowheart is probably into some hardcore stuff, right? She strikes me as someone with a bit of a home invasion kink. Definitely here for the blindfold/sensory deprivation kink. Restraints, but not just bondage, I'm thinking vinyl suits. Shadowheart's definitely into the unconventional. The more toys and artifice, the better.

It's probably next to impossible for Shadowheart to relax sexually. I don't think it's that she isn't into sex, but it's probably difficult for her to calm down and feel safe being vulnerable, get in touch with soft, gentle things that are just nice. Things that hurt a bit are more comfortable, more familiar, and even have less to do with her personally so she doesn't have to deal with her own feelings and preferences. But, with a bit of patience and a firm hand, you could coax Shadowheart into easing up, allowing herself to be taken care of, and to enjoy just a simple hand job or the too soft touch of lips. She's a bit of a project, but especially if you enjoy a bit of darkness and danger, very rewarding.

And Shadowheart would be big into reciprocation, you can't do something nice for her without her doing the same to you. And she'd take it as a point of pride that she's very good at making people beg for mercy. I think she'd become very giving over time, if you can be patient and teach her how to enjoy herself, in time she will give as much and more back to you.

And to be clear, not suggesting she doesn't also and always enjoy a bit of bondage and sensory deprivation, but I think she'd enjoy it more once she's come to terms with the fact this is not a service she's required to provide, an act which could determine her worth, but just occupations she enjoys for herself, outside of external validation. Teaching Shadowheart to masturbate could be huge. I do worry about her some times. A little self-love lessons might be necessary.

Edging also definitely something to try here. The slower the better. But, it's gotta have that pay off, or she'll start circling back to denial is the end in itself. Which... maybe sometimes, but there's also a lot to be enjoyed in the climax too!

Wyll

Hard to find a sweeter, gentler soul on the road. And a softer touch too. Needless to say, it's a lot of firsts with Wyll. But, he's a quick study and enjoys being tender and lovely. And I'll say it right now, even with this illustrious company, I don't think anyone gives better head than Wyll Ravenguard. Such a soft mouth and singularly focused and determined, he genuinely enjoys it too. It's such an act of service and this boy is all about acts of service. He wouldn't even get distracted by his own pleasure, just entirely focused on what he can give you. Halsin might have greater skill, but that heartfelt desire is unparalleled.

Wyll is made to be commanded, he will do whatever you say in bed. Even if you gave him control, I'm not sure he'd want it and definitely wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, not to say he's a pillow princess, those hips are doing their share of heavy lifting. Just to say that he wants instruction, he wants to follow your lead and let you tell him what to do. Praise would be huge here, tell him what a good boy he is, how well he's doing, he'd go mad.

To prolong the pleasure, a little orgasm denial may be useful, make him work for it. He loves a challenge and a test to prove his worthiness. And, in time, you could get experimental with him as you build his confidence. Maybe a little exhibitionism. Maybe a little bondage, a little role play. As long as the trust and love is there, Wyll's willing to try anything once.

Maybe the most fun thing about Wyll is Wyll actually can keep it down. Some of us just have to scream about it, but Wyll can actually get away with a fair mount because of his cool exterior. And Wyll is available for quickies, an advantage over some others here since he doesn't require a huge amount of energy set aside to have a good time. Wyll responds better to smaller but frequent affection and physical touch than big events spaced out. And Wyll is impulsively romantic, he likes to surprise with fun ideas and sudden invitations, which is a reward unto itself.

Zevlor

And a win for Team Sexualizing Old Men! I remember my roots. It is truly a tragedy that Larian won't let me sex up that old man. Look at him, you know it'd be good. So tender, so thorough. And Zevlor deserves something nice god damn it.

You know he knows what he's about. None of that shy, awkward fumbling you get with the new kids. Heck, he probably knows how to get you off standing against a wall, still in his armor! A true prince among men here. Don't think because no one's asked in awhile his skills have diminished.

Very passable oral skills, surprisingly long stamina, not just in oral too ;). Not the fastest ride you'll ever have and some positions are probably going to be out, battle-scarred knees and such, but for my money, absolutely delightful. Don't have to contend with more power than sense here.

And hey, if you want some Honorable Mentions like Aylin, Enver Gortash, or Dammon, let me know! I'm always down to give sexual headcanons no one wanted! 

[andythelemon]

Life update 2024

Hey everyone! It’s been a while since I last wrote anything of substance here. How time flies! Happy new year, happy year of the dragon! I hope this one is kind and auspicious for you all.

I'll admit to falling off the art train terribly for most of 2023. I barely drew; a lot of things I posted were older pieces for projects I couldn't share at the time. I think I speak for most of us when I say it's not been a great time for art collectively; growing frustrations with social media and despair at the state of current global affairs leaves little room for creative inspiration. I know many artist friends of mine are in the same boat. There's little one can do except plod on and hope for better times ahead, I guess? I'll do my best regardless!

Having said that, I did have a major touch-grass-normie arc offline, and as wild as it was, I'm glad I invested time and energy into that area of my life. After the lockdown years of terminal-onlineness, it felt great to do things that were not related to fandom at all, to have new experiences, to make new friends, reconnect with old ones, see new things. It was funny and terrifying all at once. I truly felt like a shonen and shojo protagonist (we will not go into details of the love triangle situation, IYKYK!). There were ups and downs, sadness and laughter, but that's part of life. I'm grateful for all that's happened and am a better, wiser, more mature person because of it. This past year taught me it's not about categorizing life's happenings into a basic good/bad dichotomy, but more learning from each experience and acknowledging we are wiser and grateful for having weathered what's thrown our way. Character development!

The universe has a way of working things out... so at the end of 2023, I had the opportunity to travel for 3 months. After hopping around the East Coast, Milan, various bits of Japan and a beach break in sunny Egypt, I've returned home with a renewed vigor for living my best life again. It was a joy to hang out with various artist friends in person and meet some of you at ANYC. I'll cherish every second of my travels and hope we can meet again soon!

I did fall off the nerd bandwagon for a while, so I gotta get back into the various anime on air! I've been watching Magi in my own time... such a guilty pleasure, but so many things await, including catching up on JJK S2, BSD, and everything else. Just goes to show my deep love for adventure, friendship-fuelled stories keeps me going. No promises on what this year holds art wise, but I'll continue trying hard and sharing what I can, as well as the usual self-indulgent group projects.

Thanks as always for the kind support and for sticking around. This blog is 12 this year... crazy, huh? See you on the other side!

[cloudlessly-light]

Hey bestie! I love your works! I was wondering maybe you could write a fic where Emily is cockwarming Aaron while he’s cleaning his gun and she cums very quick because it’s too sexy for her ☺️

A/N: I’ll give an extra warning for this chapter, it contains gun kink, you have been warned!

I would also like to add that I wrote most of this either on the way to or from @sequinsmile-x, as well as in her apartment.

Title: Love like mine (3/11) Chapter title: But don’t worry I’ll make sure you don’t forget it Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,7k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, cock warming, gun kink, dirty talk, cheating, hinting at abortion

They spend the day mostly naked, starting off with breakfast until Emily casually strips herself from his shirt and he ends up taking her on her dining room table. It’s hours spent together in between sex and jokes and conversation and Emily finds herself liking the way he’s relaxing in her company, the difference between Aaron and Hotch slowly sneaking through in a way he hadn’t let it before.

He’s funny, a dry sense of humor that she finds that she enjoys and she can tell that he likes the way she challenges him. It had been part of his attraction to her from the start, the fact that he can’t really figure her out.

“Where did you get this?” He asks as he traces the tattoo on her hipbone, faded and old on her skin.

“In Italy.” She doesn’t want to tell him the whole story, doesn’t want him to tell him that after one of the worst experiences of her life she wanted something beautiful to come from it. The daffodil tattoo that she at 15 thought was a good idea, the flower meaning change and new beginnings, something she now rarely paid much attention to. “It was a new start for me.” She tells him simply and he seems to understand that she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“It’s pretty.” He says instead and kisses her hipbone before moving slowly up her body, his tongue tasting her skin until he’s face to face with her. “Like you.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She smiles into a kiss and when she hears his sated groan she can’t help the way satisfaction tingles down her spine. She knew he wasn’t hers, she knew that part of why she was attracted to him was because he was taken. Him being married meant that she was safe. She wouldn’t get hurt this way, and that was comforting.

Aaron tries not to think about the repercussions of what they were doing, how this could end. He didn’t want to leave Haley, didn’t really know what he was doing spending his weekend with another woman. But as Emily moaned his name in his ear, he didn’t want to stop.

He gets home early on Sunday morning to an empty house and he tries to ignore the guilt that’s creeping up his spine. He had spent the entire weekend with Emily, his mistress, and the thought of Haley had barely crossed his mind. The clothes he wears smell like her and he quickly puts them in the washing machine, needing to hide every trace of Emily before Haley walks through their front door with his son.

It’s wrong, so wrong, this wasn’t the man he had imagined himself to be. But Emily was addictive, something he hadn’t known he needed but now didn’t know how to be without. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that he should come clean, that doing this to Haley was close to evil. But he loved his wife, loved the life they had built and he didn’t want to give that up.

He realizes that it can’t last, not in the long run but then dark eyes and a teasing smile flashes in his mind and for some reason he finds that he’s not ready to give her up.

Being with Emily was something new, something he’d never had before, pleasures and urges he had always forced deep down finally seeming to have room to breathe. She didn’t judge him for wanting what he did, in fact, she seemed to revel in it. Reveled in the way he let go like he hadn’t before, seemed to love the power it gave her.

He hears Haley call for him just as he’s getting out of the shower, only minutes after he had washed the sin off his skin.

“Hi honey.” She greets him with a soft kiss and a smile, gentle and loving and home and he kisses her back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He tells her, the lie sliding off his tongue almost too easily as he takes Jack from her, the toddler babbling happily in his arms. “How were your parents?”

“They’re good. Maybe next time you can come too.” Haley watches as he tickles Jack with a fond smile. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew something had changed between them in the last few months, knew that he was hiding something from her but as she stood there in the home where they had picked out the color of the wallpaper and argued about what couch to buy and listened to the sounds of their sons laugh, she forced those thoughts away.

*

“Is this a bad time?” She knocks on his office door and lingers in the doorway. It’s late, everyone’s gone home and she had every intention to do the same, but then he had given her that look, the look that meant he wanted her to stay late. So she had told a lie to Derek and JJ when they asked why she didn’t go home, blaming paperwork that she didn’t actually have but it seemed to be enough for them to leave the office.

It had been a strange day, a restlessness in her that she wasn’t sure where it came from. She needed something, but didn’t know what. Felt the need for something thrilling, for the restlessness to go away. She must have walked into his office right as he was about to clean his gun, the weapon disassembled on his desk and for some reason her eyes fastens on it.

“Not at all.” He said as he stood from behind his desk. He looked through the window and saw that the bullpen was empty and he closed the blinds swiftly. When he looked back at her he could see how her eyes lingered on his gun that he had just been about to clean, thinking that it would still be a while before she would have been able to join him. “Emily?”

Her eyes snap to his and she licked over her suddenly dry lips. She didn’t know why the thought of his gun suddenly made want stir in her belly, didn’t know why she suddenly thought about how his gun looked small in his large hands and the precision in which he used it. But she did know that the restlessness she felt made her feel something she never had before as she looked at the weapon in front of her.

“Yeah?” For some reason her voice comes out low and breathy, so familiar to him in the throes of passion that he feels a tugging in his groin.

“What are you thinking about?” He husks as he circles her slowly until he’s standing behind her, lets his lips trail teasingly along the back of her neck as his hands grip her hips to pull her back against his chest. The adrenaline that suddenly rushed through his veins was intense, because he knew this was new, something neither of them had done before.

“N-nothing.” She swallows hard but cranes her neck to give him easier access to her skin.

“Tsk, you shouldn’t lie.” He nips at her neck and she gasps in response. “You’re still looking at it.” The way her body tenses slightly as she looks back at him with wide eyes makes him hum knowingly.

She tore her eyes from the gun, felt his lips turn into a smirk against her neck and when her eyes meet his there’s something dark reflecting in his brown orbs, something feral and new, something that sends a thrill through her body. And she knew she was caught.

He lets go of her and goes to sit down at his desk, a small smile tugging on his lips that he bites the inside of his cheek to keep at bay.

“You like my gun?” He beckons her closer and she walks around the desk to stand at his side. “Answer me.”

“I don’t know why.” She mumbles, shy in a way she usually never was with him and the way her cheeks heat up makes him sit back in chair.

“I’ll tell you what.” He pushes back slowly from his desk, one hand hovering over his fly. “You can sit here and watch me clean my gun, and if you’re quiet, I’ll give you a reward.”

She looks at him questionably, not understanding where he’s going with this. Her eyes shift from his gun to his hand as he slowly reaches for her, his fingers expertly popping the button of her pants.

“What are you doing?” She barely recognizes her voice, so thick with want that it comes out low and raspy.

“I’m undressing you.” He tells her matter-of-factly before pulling her pants and underwear down her hips. When they’re a puddle around her feet he stands to help her out of her shirt, her bra soon following as she stands completely naked in front of him. He tugged on the piercing, a nipple ring that she’d started wearing only a few days ago. “You’re going to sit here and keep my cock comfortable while I clean my gun.”

The whimper that escapes her comes without warning, suddenly so aroused that it feels like her entire body was set on fire. He’s barely even touched her, and yet she knows her slick are shining on her thighs already, her skin flushing as he looks at her with dark eyes.

“Aaron-“ she starts but is quickly cut off as he presses a finger against her lips.

“Quiet, sweetheart.” The nickname falls from his lips without hesitation and if he wasn’t so ridiculously turned on himself he would have corrected himself. But instead he simply drags the zipper of his slacks down, gets his hard cock out and sits back down on his chair.

Emily waits only a second before she straddles his legs, her hand around his shaft as she lines him up with her center. She runs the tip of him through her folds, lets him feel her wetness before slowly sinking down on him with a strangled moan. His hands spread her thighs wider apart, as wide as possible as he holds her tight against his chest, his breathing coming out of hot, short puffs against the back of her shoulder. She slowly starts to grind but his hands tighten and he bites down on her neck.

“No no, sit still, just like this.” He smirks when she forces herself to still on his lap, knows that she more than anything wants to move, to create friction for them both. “Rub your clit for me”

His low voice in her ear caused her to shiver and she squeezed around him return. Her fingers trembled as she does as he says, using two fingers to gently circle the bundle of nerves as Aaron hummed, pleased with her obedience.

“Fuck…” she gasped as she clenched around him again and she heard his low groan against her ear.

“Now watch.” He let go of her hips only to reach for his gun. When he held it up Emily bit back a moan, eyes fastened on it. “Dirty girl, you probably want me to fuck you with my gun.” He cleaned the muzzle as he talked.

She didn’t respond, but her hips buckling slightly and her fingers speeding up against her clit was more than enough of an answer. The danger of his words made her head spin, images of what he was saying flashing in her mind.

“Mhmm, you want me to fuck you with my gun like I fuck you with my cock, hard and deep. You want to drench it, want to ruin it with the mess you’d make.” He continues conversationally as he continues to clean gunpowder out of the barrel.

”Aaron, Jesus Christ.” Her eyes rolled back as heat spread through her, slowly building her orgasm up. The heightened situation made the familiar heat she now associated with him spread quicker than ever before. All she wanted was to move, but she stayed still even as her thighs shook, afraid to break whatever spell he’d managed to put her under.

“You want to clench around the barrel of my gun just like you’re clenching me right now.” Aaron growled at the way her tight walls were trembling around him. He didn’t know what kind of primal desire had set off for her, all he knew that the brutality of it was making it hard for him to control himself. He licked over her fluttering pulse, tasted the vibration of her moan as she trembled hard enough for him to stop what he was doing to keep her on his lap.

“C-can I?” She panted through dizzying pleasure, her fingers moving in quicker and quicker circles against her clit.

“Good girl.” He praised her with a low groan. “Come for me.” He let go of the grip and put down the rag he had used and wrapped one arm around her middle to keep her still, let the other move to tug gently on her nipple ring and then she was coming, a loud cry that he knew would have been heard through the door leaving her as she rocked on his lap, unable to keep from buckling as pleasure spread through her body in powerful waves.

Once she had calmed and he was sure that she wouldn’t fall off his lap he let go of her only to pick his gun up again. He could see how her eyes, heavy lidded and dark followed his movements as he reassembled his gun, slowly, deliberately.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asked then, his hand wrapping around her wrist to place it back against her clit. “Keep clenching around me baby, make me feel good.”

She whimpered, her clit sensitive to the touch but she did what he said, rubbing slowly over it as Aaron simply held the gun out in front of her again.

“My filthy girl.” He licked a stripe up her neck, her skin tasting of sweat and adrenaline. “You’re enjoying yourself almost too much.” His hand gripped the gun tighter, making sure her eyes stayed on it as he slowly trailed it down her body. The muzzle grazed one of her nipples, the cold steel making her gasp before slowly moving it down her body, letting her feel it gently press against her stomach.

“Aaron I don’t-” Her words were cut off by him nudging her hand away from her clit, only to graze the gun against it, the muzzle scraping it gently. It was cold and hard, the feeling new and she whimpered.

“You’re soaking me.” He let the metal slide over her clit slowly, up and down, up and down, until she was clenching around him again. The barrel was shiny with her slick as he kept moving it against her clit, glinting in the low lights in his office and he grunted against her ear.

“I’m close.” Her hands were gripping his desk, her body trembling as she tried desperately not to move. The sight of his hand, large and strong, holding the gun, something dangerous and risky between her legs was something she knew she’d never forget. It was maddening, the excitement she felt as he brought her closer to the edge. She knew he was getting closer too, his low groans against her ear deep and raspy, the hand not holding the gun gripping her hard enough to leave bruises.

Then he pressed the barrel of the gun a little harder against her clit and she was coming with a guttural whine, her head thrown back against his shoulder and body trembling as she spasmed around him. The feeling of her clenching walls around him was enough for him to come as well, his release hard enough to knock the air out of him as he jerked up against her.

She was still coming down when she heard the thump of the gun hitting the floor and then his hand on her jaw, pulling her face towards his to kiss her deeply. He tastes like Aaron and adrenaline, almost metallic.

“You really will be the death of me.” He whispers once they pulled apart and she smiles lazily, a low hum leaving her.

“Let’s hope not. This is too much fun.” She kisses him again, kisses him until the need for air becomes too much.

When she gets home that night she can still feel him, can smell his cologne on her body, feel his warm hands on her skin. She pretends that thinking about him isn’t something she should see as a warning, that pressing on the bruises on her hips was only to remember the way he had felt as he grabbed at her and not thinking about the way he’d kissed each one after they were done.

She pretends because he’s married. He was a father. He was something fun to pass the time, to use as a way to get frustrations out. Wasn’t he?

*

It’s been three weeks since that night in his office, three weeks of things seemingly falling into chaos. The cases they worked were grueling, somehow worse than ever it felt like. They didn’t get much time to rest, flying to and from DC in a way they usually didn’t. It made Aaron want to be home as much as possible, because he missed Jack, missed Haley. But he also missed Emily.

They never spend the night together while on cases, knew that it was too risky. But as the days passed on, he could feel the tension build, pressure slowly making him close to agitated. He was too mad at the world, the cases they worked, the victims he met somehow getting under his skin in a way they usually didn’t.

And then it’s like something snaps, a local case, an unsub telling him in detail about his victims, all of them children, all of them dead. And Aaron can’t handle it.

She can tell, can tell the second her eyes meet his and she is quick to find him alone.

“What can I do?” She asks and he looks relieved to see her standing in the doorway of his office.

“Can I come over tonight?”

She can tell everything he doesn’t say, sees the anger and the way he wants nothing more than to scream his frustrations out at the world.

“Of course.” When his shoulders lower the tiniest bit she smiles. “I’ll take care of you.”

He calls Haley on the way, lies about an emergency meeting as he knocks on the door to Emily’s apartment door. She opens it with a filthy smile and nothing else and the second he’s hung up she’s on him, clawing at his clothes and kissing him like her life depended on it.

He lets her take charge, lets him get him undressed and up the stairs without question and then she’s pushing him back on the bed, quickly following him as she straddles him. It’s not often he does this, but tonight he feels like he needs it and Emily being her, already knew that even without being told. He sits up to kiss her, hands on her naked waist but she pushes him back against the bed again, hands flat on his chest as she slowly grinds on top of him, a smirk on her lips when he hisses at the heat of her along his shaft.

“I know you like this, having a dirty little secret.” Her lips ghosts over his and when he tries to kiss her she pulls back. “I know you come to my apartment to get out all that tension you can’t with her.” She licks across one of his nipples and when she tugs it between her teeth his jaw clenches as he swallows down a groan. “You use me, but it’s okay because I use you too.”

She’s sinking down on him and rides him until he’s groaning and swearing, her body dragging pleasure from his. When he comes it’s with her name hissed from between clenched teeth, his body sweaty and heavy with pleasure as she lets him enjoy the release he really needed as he relaxes back against her bed.

After, he cleans himself off in her bathroom and when he comes back to the bedroom, he finds it empty. He dresses, buttons every button and ties his tie before combing his hair quickly. When he walks downstairs he looks like Hotch again and Emily smiles at the sight.

She’s standing in the kitchen, leaning back against the same kitchen counter that he’s fucked her on more times than he’d like to admit, looking so effortlessly gorgeous and he has a hard time looking away from her.

“What?” She asks, teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“Nothing, I’ll see you at the office.” His hand gently grasps the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss.

“I never thought I’d do this.” She admits once he’s pulled away and he looks at her questionably. “Help a man cheat, I mean.”

“I never thought I would cheat, but here I am.” He stays close and she lets her arms wrap around his neck loosely. ”Do you want to stop?”

“No.” She says softly and for the first time Aaron finds himself wondering if maybe they’re getting in too deep.

“I don’t either.” He tells her honestly as he rests his forehead against hers for a brief second.

The moment is interrupted by his phone, loud and obnoxious to his ears and when he looks at the screen he sees Haley’s name flashing on it.

“Hi honey.” He steps away from Emily and she gives him a gentle nod. “No, I’m heading home now, sorry the meeting ran long.”

Emily watches him go, his hand squeezing hers quickly before he heads to the door. Once he’s closed it behind him she finds herself not liking the silence of her apartment. It’s the first time she had ever come close to regret

[elizabethrobertajones]

I still don't know what to make of this little story beat. I KNOW the game isn't being written for me, personally. I Know that despite saying otherwise, Bounding Frog is not the Canonical Warrior Of Light. I understand that things just kinda happen based on themes and characters and stuff and things had been established in some way with Erenville having toad-based associations, having previously claimed to be an expert.

On the other hand, the first zone I chose to go to, the very first thing we did, was split up to go investigate a body of water and draw some conclusions like an amateur ecologist on what may be afflicting it. And there was a cute little creature named Lethargic Frog, which is about as "hey this is symbolically important to you, Bounding Frog, someone who takes their whole name inspiration from the admirable leaping power of a healthy frog based on their childhood experiences catching frogs, just as the noble Vipers named themselves after the snakes they learned from" as can be.

This frog was placed here for Frog to see and based on her entire personality, to notice and care about and understand how it was not feeling good.

Also, the writer of this quest wanted Bounding Frog personally to know this was her chance to prove to Erenville that she did know her frogs, and was perfectly capable of talking to him frog expert to frog expert. I can't overstate how thrilled she was that she had this opportunity. She was going to show him that she was just as competent! She could impress him, she could prove she was worth talking about frogs to... Yep.

Aaand then after all this careful study of the Lethargic Frog, she bounces back to the group, and this happens...

She starts to explain about the water quality and fields, saving her deepest insight for last, you know, the other thing the quest made sure we would see and interact with so even if I allow for a WoL to exist who isn't a Frog Expert like mine (who this quest was personally tailored to, again) you might reasonably expect that after Krile has agreed with you about the first point, you MIGHT KEEP SPEAKING ON THE SUBJECT OF YOUR OBSERVATIONS.

Nah, before Frog can open her mouth again, Erenville cuts in to announce that the frogs are kinda sleepy, while she was politely waiting her turn to speak. All she can do is stoically nod and agree everyone noticed the same things she did (shh Alisaie has something funny to say on the subject before you return to the group to chat as well), and that's that, we're rushing off to the next thing and the opportunity has fizzled out and there's no chance to impress because Erenville stole it from her...

How could they have known we need to start this adventure with a huge knock to Frog's ego when it comes to Erenville, and a reminder of why they've been snarking at each other for months. And he's far more concerned with Wuk Lamat presenting a semi-competent front and feeling chafed by travelling with other people to even notice he was, once again, catastrophically rude on the subject of frogs, to Frog.

All her attempts to befriend him and make him laugh and generally have him notice her for the last few months, and she's riiiight back at step one, fuming about his existence and sulking about how he won't let her have the one thing she most prides herself on, because he's too busy being some sort of frog snob himself.

So, yeah, I think the writer of this quest knew that Frog was the main character and also that Erenville is her nemesis :)

[heartthrobin]

lovers, to bed: tis almost fairy time (4)

sam winchester x fairy!reader

wc: 4.0k

warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, limited use of y/n, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), angst, subby sam winchester (?), some smoking, canon warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)

an: i'm so sorry that this took so long, uni has put me in a really tough mental space at the moment and being creative has been so difficult. but i hope it was worth the wait! love you all endlessly

summary: yes, Sam Winchester was an idiot: but he would be damned if he was going to let his little fairy get away.

part one part two part three

The trunk clicked open, swinging up against the back window of the Impala.

Dean rummaged between the shotguns and the silver blades and the jugs of gasoline. His hand emerged with a wide set machete, holding it up to Sam.

"I've been dying to use this bad boy since Idaho." He grinned at his reflection in the steel blade.

Sam rolled his eyes, hair fluttering over his forehead where the evening wind was tugging on it. The Impala was parked up against the grass at the edge of the forest, the sun disappearing over the treetops in a way that sunk the town in a purple glow.

He reached in to grab a shotgun, a silver blade too: slipping it into his jacket pocket. "Right. Let's just get this over with."

His brother grinned, "So you can go see your little princess, hm?"

Sam didn't dignify him with a response. Mostly because he was right.

The weight of the truth draped over his shoulders like a truck. Stifling and making it hard to breath, let alone think.

Dean laughed at his lack of response, bumping his shoulder to his:

"Sammy's getting laid tonight." He sing-songed.

"Yeah, right. That's a great idea." He huffed, "Then she can see all my scars and realise I've been lying to her. Sounds fun."

Nudging the trunk closed, Dean groaned. "She's gonna find out either way."

"Not unless I don't tell her."

At that Dean paused. His eyes ran over Sam's figure where he was loading the shotgun.

"So when were done, we're just gonna leave town?"

Sam slammed the trunk shut with maybe a little too much force. "Can we drop it?"

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever. It's your problem, but I think she should know."

But Sam was already pacing towards the line of trees, huffing and trying to suffocate the guilt building in his chest.

The forest wasn't making it any easier. Dean was trailing behind him, every footstep crackling over the dry leaves and soft grass reminding him of your laugh. The dark bark of the black of your eyes, those eyes so wide and wet--

"Hey," Dean's voice cut through his thoughts. He motioned over between the trees. "Look."

There was the tree again. Glowing just like it had been the last time they'd ventured into the belly of the woods.

A crunch echoed around the space. Sam's head whipped over his shoulder, Dean reaching with a quickness that only came from experience for the gun in his holster:

"What was that?"

-

There was a teenager behind the counter when you plonked down a packet of sour worms and a tray of eggs in front of her.

She was usually the one who helped you when you'd stop in after work some days. She's cute in a sprightly way: piercings sticking out from every piece of skin she could get her hands on and she was one of the only people left in town who didn't scowl at you when you came in.

But she was looking at you funny just then, her hands still where they'd usually just reach to start scanning your things with a bored look on her young features.

"You've ... uh, got a ..." she'd motioned up to her own face, brushing a finger over her cheek.

Your hand came to pet your own face, drawing back with a palmful of blood. Shoulders sagging, you sigh. "Oh."

She leaned down under the counter, emerging with a handful of napkins and offering them to you. You smiled at her, "Thank you. It's, uhm, it's not mine."

The girl nodded like she already figured. She started to scan your eggs while you wiped down your cheek, napkins dissolving into a crimson lump. You wondered, for the millionth time, what your soulmate had gotten themselves into today.

There was a glass case enclosing some rotating hot dogs that you used to check your reflection: to probe gently at the thin cut you suspected was the work of a sharp blade, and when she handed you your bag, your face was mostly clean over where it was flush with embarrassment. Poor girl was already working late on a week night and you'd waltzed in looking like a scene from a horror movie.

You thanked her and she offered one last uninterested nod.

It was dark out already and you didn't feel as safe walking home as you once had but there was little option, and the corner store was less than a couple blocks from home.

The bag shuffled and your neck-full of crystals clinked as you walked. You hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all afternoon, some playful tune you'd heard on the radio in the shop.

In the distance there was a crowd. The road overthrown with a flickering blue and red light from cop cars parked just further down and voices overlapped in loud chatter.

You frowned. "What ..."

As you neared your eyes find uniformed officers pushing back other curious onlookers. There was a news van parked there too: a man dressed in a smart suit speaking into a microphone at his chest and he's grinning-- "Yes, Arthur, I am here in Fernglade Washington with some amazing news for our viewers. Tonight, the town can rest a little easier--"

There was a loud sob that carries over heads and a woman was on her knees, jeans pressing into the concrete where she was clutching a child. She's shaking violently ... and she wasn't alone.

Behind her was another set of parents with a child ... and another, and another.

Your heart floated into your throat. There brewed a bubbling feeling in your chest, it's ... it's the children. The missing children.

You recognised Rachel and Georgia ... and Manny. Sure, they were a little dirty: with pale soil-ridden faces and torn Barbie t-shirts.

One, two, three -- you counted them with your eyes -- seven. They were all there.

The police had set up a barricade and you didn't even realise you'd dropped and crushed your eggs when you pressed against it. There's eyes on you, guilty eyes, and you could tell nearby officers were pretending not to look at you out the corner of their eyes.

But you couldn't be bothered with them, with the whispering crowd either, because you'd made out the outline of the Winchester brothers' backs talking down at a short police woman who was avidly writing against a tiny notebook.

You were grinning so hard it was hurting your cheeks and your eyes welled with the joy of the scene. They were all there. They were all okay, alive!

"Sam!' you leaned over the wooden barricade. It had to have been them, there was nobody else who believed you. Believed that the kids weren't locked up in the depths of a dungeon you didn't own.

A laugh was gurgling up from the depths of your throat and you felt where a tear slipped over the healing cut on your cheek. "Sam!"

Sam's head perked up, pausing mid-sentence when he turned those wide shoulders to the crowd, to you. His face lit up with shadows under the spectacle of coloured lights when his eyes found yours.

Your heart sunk from where it was sitting in your throat, slipping all the way to the deepest pit in your stomach.

Even under the harsh light and the cover of night it was impossible to miss the drying blood painting his face. Running down from a cut over his cheek. Your hand came to find your own jaw, eyes never leaving his, when you pressed up into the matching scar. It didn't hurt and even if it had, you wouldn't have felt it just then.

Sam's face was twisting with realisation. "Y/n--"

You tripped back over the edges of your skirt, knocking into the onlookers behind you-- "hey, watch it!"

Concrete reached up, scraping at your heels wedged into dainty sandals, but the hammering of your heart kept them moving. You broke out the crowd, oxygen leaning further and further out your grasp when you broke into a run.

"Y/n, wait!"

But you didn't stop.

Sam watched your silhouette shrink down the road, streetlights illuminating your escape. He gulped for breath, guilt choking him out: clogging his airways with thick sludgy shame.

"Sammy," a hand closed over his arm. "Come on--"

"Agent, we need to finish getting your statement."

Dean was leaning over his shoulder when he looked down. His eyes were sticky with sympathy.

The officer was lingering just a foot from him. She looked confused, gaze flickering between him and the now empty street.

"Dean ..." he turned to his only comfort. "She-- my face ..."

His brother nodded. "Yeah, I know. I know, Sammy."

He patted him. "Just give her some time to breath, okay? Let's finish here."

Every nerve-ending in his body was screaming at him to chase you down the street. To break through the nosy locals and crawl his way up your porch steps: beg on his knees for forgiveness.

Just give her some time. He didn't know if his mind was ringing or if Dean had said it again, but Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

The officer pressed her pen back to her little notebook. She nodded, "Okay so you guys followed the perpetrator into the forest. Male, blonde hair, you said?"

Dean made a grunt of agreement.

-

The night was so cold, Sam remembered.

A thin sheet of drizzle was patching up the sidewalk when his heavy footsteps crept up along it. Barely enough to dampen his hair, but his jacket felt impossibly heavy over his shoulders.

It was past midnight. The police had held them down: a trip to the station, a tower of signed documents and a sketch artist later there he finally was, standing feeling small for the first time in his life at the edge of your property.

Wind was twirling a thin line of smoke off your porch. He could see you through the darkness.

You said nothing. Eyes connected with his across your impeccably maintained grass.

It egged him forward.

His footsteps were loud clambering up the three wooden steps onto your porch.

You were leaned back into the arms of an ornate wooden rocking chair he'd noticed on his first trip up those same stairs. You weren't looking at him anymore: eyes drifting over the quiet street.

Sam was at least glad to find you bundled up in a blanket.

In your lap sat was the strangest-looking pipe he'd ever seen. An obnoxiously long chamber with a bulbous bowl at the end.

A string of purple smoke was curling out from between your lips. "You're here."

He couldn't tell if it was a question or not. Your face was as passionless as he'd ever seen it: offering him nothing.

"I promised I would be."

You nodded slowly, bringing the pipe up to your mouth and sucking on it steadily, still not looking at him. "How are the kids?"

Sam's hands bunched at his side. A dreadful burning viper was slithering between his organs. In this light he could see the smooth cut against your face, a misaimed throw of a blade from Dean when a tiny grotesque goblin had leapt up at him.

"They're ... they're fine. T-They're good."

"Did you know?"

You're looking at him now. It's the question he knew was coming but it knocks him breathless all the same.

He draws breath, mind spinning between the truth and an easier lie. "I--"

"Don't lie, Sam."

Your eyes are piercing him, like an arrow to the chest. He swallows hard. "Yes ... I did."

The pipe draws up to your mouth again, you let out a soft humourless laugh. It's followed out by another cloud of glittering smoke. The laugh so empty that it dries Sam's mouth.

"I ... the life I lead," he starts again, the snippets of a speech that he'd been stewing on his whole life for this exact moment coming out sounding more pathetic than he ever thought they could. "It's no life for you. For anyone, and I couldn't do that to someone I... I-I love. To tie you to me, I've done terrible things you don't know--"

"And you think I haven't?" You're rising from the chair now, pipe thudding to the floor. Your voice is prickled in a rising anger. "That I'm some jewel who could never imagine what life is like on the run? To kill and hurt for survival?"

The rain was coming down harder. Trees and bushes leaning against the push of the wind. Sam was so lost in the heat of your eyes that he didn't notice the creep of a thick-set branch crawling up the edge of the porch, down over the lip of the roof.

"Were you just gonna leave?" Your voice never rose but he flinched like you'd screamed it at him. The flush of fury setting your cheeks alight, illuminating the scar that put you both there. "You were, weren't you?"

The touch was wet and solid when it wrapped around his ankle, the branch wrenching him by both ankles back against the bannister of the porch. He gasped when the wood struck his back: another thick brown limb winding around his neck, not enough to hurt but enough to fix his head in your direction and stop him from toppling over.

It took a couple gulps of breath to realise that it was the tree. The one wrapped around your cottage, that it was you.

"This is a two way street, Sam." you pressed up against his chest, eyes alight with a power you'd never let show before. "You bang me up for years and years, and I sit and wait for you. And you were just gonna leave? Leave me to patch up all your bullet holes and your wolf bites?"

Shame drains his cheeks of warmth. He doesn't fight the tree's grip, purposefully ignores the sharpened blade that's still well within his reach. Sam shakes his head as well as he can: he doesn't know what to say. His whole pathetic speech meant nothing anymore and he didn't think this could hurt any harder until he realises that tears are streaming quietly down your perfect perfect face.

You're pressed up against him, your warmth seeping into his bones.

Forehead meeting his pectoral, you shake your head too. Tears wetting his shirt.

"I was scared." He finally lets out, it's pitiful. "I didn't know this is what it felt like. I didn't know love could feel like this."

"I'm scared too, you know." You whisper into him.

In a surge of bravery, or maybe just stupidity - he couldn't tell anymore, his hand finds your jaw: tipping it up to face him.

God, he never thought you could be more beautiful but you were blinking up at him with wet lashes and a trembling lip and he was ready to give up his whole fucking life for you. Lay down the gun and never pick it up again, let Dean drive alone out and far away from Fernglade.

It was all made more real when you leaned up onto your toes, nose brushing his and hands finding his neck.

You moved no closer, warm breath caressing the bow of his lip, but Sam would be damned if being hog-tied by some oak tree was gonna stop him from the taste of you so he wrapped a strong arm over your waist and tugged you just that little distance further.

The feeling of your lips crashing on his couldn't be any sweeter. He imagined that this is what a firework felt like when it leapt into the sky and burst.

Your mouth was desperate, like his, and your hands wrapped around the base of his shivering neck.

You tasted like sweet tea and tangy like whatever was in your magical pipe and if the tree wasn't holding him upright he'd have crashed to his knees. You whined lowly and it stoked the fire pit in Sam's stomach.

His tongue slipped past your lips, struggling against the hold of the oak tree to let his hands roam your back. Your mouth was wet hot and he knew he could kiss you forever, until his oxygen depleted and he was dead for the world.

But you stepped back, eyes wide like you'd been doused over with ice water. A hand wiped at your mouth, at the mix of his and your's saliva coating your lips.

"You ..." your voice trembled. "You should go."

You stumbled back down the porch, door creaking as it opened and banging as it shut.

The grip of the tree loosened and Sam watched it's branches creep back under the porch. It became still again, rain calming to a measly patter and bushes watching quietly.

"Fuck." he whispered.

-

Sam shut the car door obnoxiously loud after him. The leather of the Impala creaked loudly when Dean followed in suit, hands reaching up to the slick black wheel.

"You're sure?"

Without answering, Sam shifted to take one last look at the Pinecone Motel and it's chipping copper paint.

"Fine." Dean turned the key into the ignition, car rumbling to life beneath them.

In the backseat is his and Sam's rucksacks and duffle-bags jam-packed with their few worldly possesions. The same bags haphazardly zipped shut that same morning when Sam eventually busted through the door demanding that they left Fernglade right fucking now.

The sun was just barely creeping over the town and morning chill frosted the view through the windscreen. It's busy despite the time: open signs are flickering on and men in aprons are heaving crates of apples onto stands under fairylight-lit doorways.

Bad Moon Rising hummed through the crumbly speakers and Sam slammed the switch on the dash so it shut off.

"Hey!" Dean calls, "take it easy man. She's gentle."

He pat the dash softly where Sam has just knocked it. Still, his brother says nothing.

"Okay." He huffed, pulling the car into a spot near the sidewalk in front of a lifeless diner. Dean twists in his seat to face Sam: "you've barely said a word all morning."

Sam tugged his jacket closer over his frame. "I said I don't wanna talk about it."

"Yeah, yeah. You've been saying that all damn week." Dean's arm lifted to rest against the back of the seat. "But you're gonna talk now. This isn't some passing girl that you can just pack your bags and run away from. You're gonna have to go there and apologise."

Sam's expression curls in anger. "Yeah, Dean, I did that! And she tied me up with tree branches and kicked me off her porch--"

"Well, boo hoo!" Dean tightened his one-handed grip on the steering wheel. "Do it again! Do it until she forgives you."

"I don't need your advice, Dean. I've made up my mind, we're leaving."

A cat was scratching on a growing weed at the edge of the sidewalk, Sam focused on it to avoid his brother's eyes. They were hot and he could feel them burning a hole into the side of his face.

"Can we just go."

"What is it?" Dean spoke again, this time quieter. Cool fog followed the words out his mouth. "What are you scared of?"

Sam ran both hands through the tendrils of hair over his scalp. He sighed. "I'm ... she's not gonna be able to forgive me."

"Are you gonna be able to forgive yourself?"

There was a long quiet.

It was broken by a car passing noisily. It draws Dean's attention and he nodded quietly to himself. "Fine. Wisconsin?"

"Yeah." Sam agrees quietly.

The car started again, Dean went to turn to radio back up. "Will you grab my jacket, I left it in the trunk. It's fucking freezing in here."

Sam sighed again. "Fine."

"Thanks."

The door clicked open again. He's barely both feet out the car when it grumbles and swerves off the sidewalk, Sam tripped over the edge nearly onto the concrete, and by the time he's stabled himself: the Impala was racing down the main road.

"You'll thank me for this!" His brother's voice faded with the car's black silhouette.

Sam's hands returned to his hair again, "son of a bitch!"

An old lady across the street turned to him with an affronted look. He waves her off, kicking at the same weed the cat had abandoned in the flurry of commotion.

Above him, the diner sign flickers on: The Frothy Mug. He stopped.

It felt like years between when he was last standing under the same light of the sign. In front of the same three steps that he watched your eyes sparkle at him: your hand tucked warmly against his.

"Fucking ..." the expletives died on his tongue. He's right, that asshole.

"I'm a fucking idiot."

Sam's legs began moving before he even knew they were, chasing down the same route he'd meandered along with you three nights previous. He's sprinting, breathing a purposeless afterthought as the diner disappeared behind him.

Past the pharmacy, the laundromat, The Bloom Box. All the way to the end of town where your cottage and your trees and your flowers and you waited for him.

Sam panted clouded breaths as the sight came into view at the end of the road. The morning sunlight lit your garden a bright orangey eden. His steps were just as heavy as they were in the early hours of that same morning when he trudged up the same stone pathway.

He didn't let himself hesitate, bringing red, bruised knuckles up against the hardwood door. The knock rumbled through the house and shakes every bone in his body.

There was a long pause. Then a scuffle, a sniff and a "Goose, get back".

The door creaked and you stood in the doorway like you had the first day his feet found this porch.

While expected, Sam was taken aback by the sight of you. You're in a matching set of pajamas, green - unsurprisingly - and covered in little ladybugs. Your face was swollen with sleep, eyelashes kissing in the corner and lips puffy.

"Sam--" you sighed, but Sam's hands find your shoulders gently.

"I know it's early, but please listen. I'm an idiot." He sounded desperate, but couldn't find a way to help it.

"Yes." You nodded.

"And I'm sorry." He nodded along with you. "And it took Dean kicking me out the car to get me here because - like I said - huge idiot, but I'm sorry. I'm a sorry, sorry idiot who's so in love with you that he doesn't know what to do with himself."

Your eyebrow curls, "Dean kicked you out the car?"

Sam's eyes rolled. "Yes. I was going to leave, because I'm a coward too. A cowardly idiot who doesn't deserve forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyways."

You shrugged, head dipping to almost rest against your shoulder. Your face almost, almost laced in amusement. "Begging always looks a little more convincing on your knees, Sam."

His knees knock loudly when they hit the wooden porch. Sam's hands slide down to find yours.

"I'm sorry." He said again, the only words his brain could formulate under the shine of you in your morning glory - the sight of a woman he wanted to see every morning until forever. "Please let me make it up to you?"

Your hands released his slowly, rising to run through his chestnut hair and settling at the base of his neck. You smile.

He thought he might be dreaming but you lean down and kiss him gently. A tinkle of bells rang through the air and Sam smiled against your mouth.

You brushed your nose against his: "I forgive you, Sam."

Sam's hands grip against your hips before floating back and brushing against the edge of the silken wings at your back.

"Really?"

"Yes. Now come in here and show me how sorry you are."

-

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[rotten-corpses-blog]

Slasher men with a southern reader

Hey! so something is up with my tumblr, I started writing someone's request, saved it to drafts and now its gone...

So I wrote this, because i'm a little southern girlie (Help i'm dying down here) If, you aren't southern, or are and don't have the same experience as me, that's ok. I'm writing this from what I delt with as a kid living in the Southern United States.

Characters: JD, Billy Loomis, Stu Matcher..... Content Warning: mentions of bigotry, and republicans, poverty and food insecurity mentions

JD

 JD is actually from Texas, so I don’t think he would really have a problem with any accents or anything of that nature.

 Depending on where you are from in the south is also important, he understands Texas culture… not any other parts of the south. (yes there is different culture depending on where you are, some parts use different words and phrases than others, food is also different) 

He would be understanding about family who have… different political opinions and all that.

He gets the poverty and food insecurity, because he saw that stuff traveling around from place to place.

Billy

Billy is from California, he grew up with none of the stuff you did so he’s not going to get it, he’s not an asshole, you just have to explain it.

He probably won’t understand any type of southern accent, even if you feel it’s mild, he still can’t understand you sometimes.

After awhile he will pick up on some of your speech patterns and start saying y’all and ain’t

If you grew up in poverty, he will kinda be weirded out. He’s a rich kid from California and has never experienced, or maybe ever saw poverty.

If your family is anything like mine, they will bitch and moan about him being from California. He doesn’t see it as a big deal, it’s not like they have to learn a new language.

He will be kinda shocked when he meets them. “Y/N… your uncle is crazy!” “No, he’s just like that, don’t worry Billy.”

Stu

If you thought Billy was bad, Stu is worse.

Not only will he not understand anything, he most likely grew up thinking all southern people were cowboys or farmers.

He grows to love southern food and will ask you to make him something almost everyday.

He’s even richer, so he seriously thought for a while that everyone had houses like his and designer clothes. 

Again, he’s a Cali boy. You couldn’t pay him to set foot on a farm or anything like that. “Y/N, we pay people to do our yard work, That’s why it looks so good!”

He loves your conservative relatives, he thinks they are so funny. I mean, we all love a good conspiracy theory on and again.