#or its sourcing from too many places

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter: language (amendment)

thank you person who commented on the first language post for pointing out two things.

one, the manga doesn't say the name of the meteoran language. we are only told that it's completely different from the standard Gelman and Jannan. I think i read it in a fanfic or something where they called the Meteoran language "Creole" which means just a combination of existing languages. in the real world it functions as a heavy dialect of a mother tongue mixed with elements of other languages- however for meteor city i believe it is a mixture of at least 4 languages since there are so many different ethnicities living in the same place. so the language name is a headcanoned name that i will call Meteoran Creole.

two, the third language chrollo spoke was Jannan which was the mother tongue of the Gelman training tape and he had to reverse learn jannan through gelman since they are allegedly dialects of each other. that one i have proof is correct. go read chapter 395 i swear im not hallucinating all of this.

and another thing that got pointed out in another rb was that bono would probably speak the language of his people which i 100% agree with. i suspect he landed in meteor city and learned Meteoran Creole and then learned gelman.

thatd be so cute actually bono learning through the same tapes that chrollo and paku learned from.

[necronomeconomicism]

Ok gotta talk about it.

As a Jewish historian, I fucking hate Israel in ways most probably will never be able to comprehend. I'm going to try and explain it anyways. The central creation myth of Israel is that it is Jewish, and then consequently, that Israel is a part of Jewishness. Its easy to simply state this is false, but fully comprehending this and putting it into practice in thought and deed seems rare to me.

The evil at the heart of this violence predates the recent acceleration of genocide. Israel is a colony, and more than that, an antisemitic fraud itself. After WW2, when Israel was being founded, the Jews of Europe generally did not wave goodbye to their neighbors and head to the promised land. Many were expelled from their homes. Zionism itself, as an action, was a false choice at the time. A mere excuse to place an ally in the middle east, and an excuse to complete the expulsion and destruction of the European Jew. The Zionist Jew is more than complicit in this, they actively seek the destruction and assimilation of all other Jews.

Many fail to realize, and largely because of Israel, that Jews are not inherently white, Ashkenazi, European-descended people. Our faith and culture has an immense variety that is spread all across the globe. Jewishness, in population and volume of culture, exists more so outside of Israel than within it. Israel is for a very specific kind of Jew. The kind that lets Yiddish die, that attaches themselves to European things, that makes themselves and their practices as white as possible.

And they have the nerve, the fucking belligerent GALL, to frame themselves as the necessary saviors of our people. To the Zionist, questioning Israel is to question Jewishness itself. They bake adoration for the colonial machine into their very prayers, and push them on us even as children. To *not* oppress, to *not* kill, to *not* genocide, is to invite death. This is the core of fascistic thought, of course. "Kill them before they kill us." And they KNOW this too, they really do. The truth of that irony does not matter, because as is true for all fascists, the truth itself does not matter to them. They wanted this, they wanted this even before the British saw it in their best interest to give them the land. Any excuse to RETVRN, as the neo-nazis say of Rome, or the German Empire, or whatever the fuck stupid country they want to poorly animate the corpse of. Some select Zionists even *sided with the fucking Nazis* in agreement they should abandon Europe to colonize Palestine. (Haavara Agreement)

My people have proved time and time and time again you don't need a nation state to have an enduring culture. We have protected ourselves for thousands of years without the help of these spiteful, doom-saying maniacs. I was going to post something like this on Passover, but that would be hypocritical. The state of Israel doesn't actually have shit to do with Jewishness. Hear Israel (the state and supporters, Israel the icon) I should outlive it long enough to bury it. (old yiddish curse)

Free Palestine. Donate what you can, they need it right now.

[nomairuins]

and also it doesnt even matter if i miraculously get a job tmrw bc we don't have a car . and im too out of shape to walk anywhere bc everything is far away . so i genuinely dont jnow what to do

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[team-frightfur]

(Theyre also blushing but i cant figure out why). Both Kenzan and Johan are more focused on Judai tho, which could either be bc theyre both gay for him or cause this takes place post s4 (so theyre happy to see Jou enjoying life again after his depression). Then you have Fubuki and Asuka in the corner. Fubuki is doing his standout uncoordinated cloudcuckoolander bit by not wearing blue/black/white/yellow like everyone else (get with the program, man!) Instead he's going for that... christmas ensemble? With the rare red....tho now I see it, there's also judais pants and the coke bottles and the red cups and oh my god it was a red/blue/green/yellow colour scheme all along. ANYWAY, while Asuka is more serious with her modest clothing and walking boots, she has this small smile. Like, clearly she's not super duper ecstatic over his dumbass ukelele serenades, but she'll humour him today of all days, not just because it's a special day but because she looooves having her brother back.

Final verdict: this pic honestly just gets better the more you look at it. It makes me wish i had synesthesia just so I could taste the cozy hot chocolate vibes. Like its truly utterly immaculate. Kudos to you for all time!!!

[dalishious]

The Sanitized Lore of Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Tevinter is the heart of slavery in Thedas. This lore has been established in every game, novel, comic, and other extended material in the Dragon Age franchise to date that so much as mentions the nation. But in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, when we are finally able to actually visit this location for the first time… this rampant slavery we’ve heard so much about is nowhere to be found. It’s talked about here and there; Neve mentions The Viper has a history of freeing slaves, as does Rook themselves if they choose the Shadow Dragon faction as their origin, for example. But walking down the streets of Minrathous, you’d never know. Because Dragon Age: The Veilguard, for all its enjoyment otherwise, has one glaring issue: It’s too clean.

The world of Thedas is full of injustices. Humans persecute elves, fear qunari, and belittle dwarves. Mages of any race are treated like caged animals in most places. The nobility is corrupt. Although, Dragon Age has not always handled these injustices well, mind you. Many, many times I’ve found myself frustrated with moments that just feel like a Racism Simulator. But what makes it worth it, is when you can actually do something about it. These injustices are things that a good-aligned character strives to fight back against, maybe even for very personal reasons. Part of the power-fantasy for many minorities is that this fight feels tangible. I cannot arrange the assassination of a corrupt politician in real life, but I sure can get Celene Valmont stabbed to death in Dragon Age: Inquisition, for example. Additionally, these fictional injustices can be used to make statements on real life parallels, like any source of media. For example, no, the Chant of Light is not real, but acting as a stand-in for Catholicism, through a media analysis lens we can explore what the Chant of Light communicates on a figurative level.

When starting Dragon Age: The Veilguard and selecting to play as an elf – this should be unsurprising to anyone who is familiar with my bias towards them – I was fully prepared to enter the streets of Minrathous and immediately get called “knife-ear” or “rabbit”. But this did not happen. I thought perhaps it was just a prologue thing, but returning to Minrathous once again, there was not a single shred of disapproval from any NPC I encountered that wasn’t a generic enemy to fight. And even the generic enemies, the Tevinter Nationalist cult of the Venatori, didn’t seem to care at all that I was a lineage they deemed inferior before now. This is a stark difference from entering the Winter Palace in Dragon Age: Inquisition and immediately getting hit with court disapproval and insults. Are we now to believe that Tevinter has somehow solved its astronomical racism and classism problems in the ten years since the past game? Or perhaps are we to believe all the characters who have demonstrated Tevinter’s systemic discriminatory views were just lying or outliers? Because it makes absolutely no sense at all for this horribly corrupt nation to not have a shred of reactivity to an elven or qunari Rook prancing around. But here were are, and not a single NPC even recognizes my character’s lineage. And because this is so different from every single past game, it feels weird.

As an elf, you have the option to make a comment about how “too many humans look down on us” in one scene early in the game. You can also talk to Bellara and Davrin, the elven companions, about concerns that people won’t trust elves after finding out about the big bad Ancient Evanuris… but this is presented as if elves don’t already face persecution. It’s all so limited in scope that it could be all too easily missed if you are not paying very close attention, and coming into the game with pre-existing lore knowledge.

All this made it easy to first assume that the developers simply over-corrected an attempt to address the Racism Simulator moments. And if that was the case, than I would at least give credit to effort; they did not find the right balance, but they at least tried. However, the sudden lack of discrimination against different lineages in Dragon Age: The Veilguard is not the only sanitized example of lore present.

In Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran Arainai is a companion who is from the Antivan Crows; a group of assassins. He discusses in detail how the Crows buy children and raise them into murder machines through all kinds of torture. The World of Thedas books also describe how the Antivan Crows work, echoing what Zevran says and expanding that of the recruitment, only a select handful of those taken by the Crows even survive. When you start Dragon Age: The Veilguard as an Antivan Crow, you immediately unlock a re-used codex entry from the past, “The Crows and Queen Madrigal”, that says the following:

“His guild has a reputation to uphold. They are ruthless, efficient, and discreet. How would they maintain such notoriety if agents routinely revealed the names of employers with something as "banal" as torture.”

Ruthless, efficient, and discreet. Torture is banal. This is what the Crows were before Dragon Age: The Veilguard decided to take them in a very different direction. The Antivan Crows in this latest game are painted as freedom fighters against the Antaam occupation of Treviso. Teia calls the Crows “patriots”. And while I can certainly believe that the Crows would have enough motivation to fight back against the Antaam, given that it is in direct opposition to their own goals, I cannot understand why they are suddenly suggested to be morally good. They are assassins. They treat their people like tools and murder for money. Even as recent as the Tevinter Nights story Eight Little Talons, it is addressed that the Antivan Crows are in it for the coin and power, with characters like Teia being outliers for wanting to change that. It makes the use of the older codex all the more confusing, as it sets the Antivan Crows up as something they are no longer portrayed as.

I personally think it would have been really interesting to explore a morally corrupt faction in comparison to say, the Shadow Dragons. Perhaps even as a protagonist, address things like the enslavement of “recruits” to make the faction at least somewhat better. (They are still assassins, after all.) Instead, we’re just supposed to ignore everything unsavory about them, I suppose…

We could discuss even further examples. Like how the Lords of Fortune pillage ruins but it’s okay, because they never sell artifacts of cultural importance, supposedly. Or how the only problem with the Templar Order in Tevinter is just the “bad apples” that work with Venatori. I could go on, but I don’t think I have to.

It is because of all this sanitization, that I cannot believe this was simply over-correction on a developmental part. Especially when there is still racism in the game, in other forms. The impression I’m left with feels far deeper than that; it feels corporate. As if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance. The strongest statements are hidden in codex entries, and I almost suspect they had to be snuck in.

Between a Racism Simulator and just ignoring anything bad whatsoever, I believe a balance is achievable; that sweet spot that actually has something to say about what it is presenting. I know it is achievable, because there are a few bright spots of this that I’ve encountered in Dragon Age: The Veilguard too. For example, some of the codex entries like I mentioned, and almost all the content with the Grey Wardens thus far. It is a shame there is not more content on this level.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard is overall still a fun game, in my opinion. But it’s hard to argue that it isn’t missing the grit of its predecessors. The sharp edges have been smoothed. The claws have been removed. The house has been baby-proofed. And for what purpose?

-----

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[headspace-hotel]

you know how people say "cats domesticated themselves?" I find this statement irksome because as i've been studying plants and particularly weeds, a theory has slowly been forming in my head about domestication that makes a lot more sense than other theories.

Basically, I think everything domesticated itself. Or rather, domestication involves adaptation and active participation on both sides.

Evidence for this is found in studying weed and crop plants—truth be told, most weeds are or were also crops.

Amaranthus, the genus that gives us the most costly USA agricultural weeds? All edible and healthy, and several members of the genus are domesticated. They were staple crops for Mesoamerican empires.

Kudzu, the vine so aggressive in the USA it turns trees into looming kudzu monoliths? It's been bred and cultivated by humans since the Neolithic in its native range, in China it was one of the main sources of fiber for cloth for MILLENNIA to the point that the Zhou dynasty had a whole government office of kudzu affairs. Kudzu roots are edible and they can be as tall as a human and weighing over 200 pounds, you can make them into flour, make noodles out of the flour, you can process them down into a starch and use it just like potato or tapioca starch and make all sorts of sauces and confections and stuff out of it. In Japan it was used for clothes too, if you see pictures of clothes worn by a samurai that's probably kudzu! It has loads of unresearched phytochemicals that probably have medicinal use, it's good for making paper, a researcher even made a biodegradable alternative to plastic out of it

Yellow Nutsedge is a food crop, Purslane is a food crop, at least some species of morning-glories are food crops, crabgrass is a food crop, Nettles are food AND fiber, Milkweed is food and fiber too, Broadleaf Plantain is food and medicinal, Dandelion is food and medicinal AND great companion plant (they used to sell them in seed catalogues around the 1890's or so!) and have y'all ever seen queen-anne's-lace along the side of the road? THATS CARROTS. That's the wild ancestor of carrots! (ofc don't eat anything you aren't 1000% sure you can identify)

Simply put. A weed is a plant that has co-evolved with humans. And most of them are Like That because they co-evolved with us. And honestly I reckon that many plants were domesticated in the first place because they liked to grow in disturbed environments near human settlements and agricultural fields.

Now thinking about this in terms of animals...when our domestic species were first domesticated, there weren't fences, there wasn't "inside" or any controlled environment to bring animals into, and if you tried to overpower or coerce any of those species, they would 100% just kill you. It makes a lot more sense if the humans were just following herds around, and it gradually developed into protecting those herds from predators and tending to them more intentionally until we were kind of just part of the herds ourselves.

a lot of people are familiar with Biblical stories and metaphors about shepherds...it's clear those guys were basically living with sheep 24/7. They were assimilated to the sheep lifestyle.

this theory kinda suggests that we've lost the ability to domesticate new animal species to some extent because domestication has never really involved removing an animal from its natural environment. Feeding wild animals and trying to socialize them to humans isn't in line with the mutualistic nature of domestication because it's trying to change the animal to our whims, and usually decreases the fitness of the animal rather than increases it. And domestication probably takes a long long time to reach the level where an animal can be a "pet" instead of a more distant form of domestication where the association is not as close.

EXCEPT. Animals that adapt to our environment are prime candidates for domestication. This actually checks out because rats and mice are some of the most recently domesticated animals, iirc. Basically, pest animals are the most likely to be domesticated because they've already started evolving into a relationship with us. Just like weeds.

An interesting side note is how both animals and plants can de-domesticate and become "weeds/pests" again. Like "weedy rice" is becoming a problem in some crops where rice has evolved into a weed. And with animals, there's pigeons who were domesticated by us and now their habitat is cities because they co-evolved with us.

[stellophiliac]

how to build a digital music collection and stuff

spotify sucks aaaass. so start downloading shit!!

file format glossary

.wav is highest quality and biggest

.mp3 is very small, but uses lossy compression which means it's lower quality

.flac is smaller than .wav, but uses lossless compression so it's high quality

.m4a is an audio file format that apple uses. that's all i really know

downloading the music

doubledouble.top is a life saver. you can download from a variety of services including but not limited to apple music, spotify, soundcloud, tidal, deezer, etc.

i'd recommend ripping your music from tidal or apple music since they're the best quality (i think apple music gives you lossless audio anyway. .m4a can be both lossy and lossless, but from the text on doubledouble i assume they're ripping HQ files off apple music)

i also love love love cobalt.tools for ripping audio/video from youtube (they support a lot of other platforms too!)

of course, many artists have their music on bandcamp — purchase or download directly from them if you can. bandcamp offers a variety of file formats for download

file conversion

if you're downloading from apple music with doubledouble, it spits out an .m4a file.

.m4a is ok for some people but if you prefer .flac, you may wanna convert it. ffmpeg is a CLI (terminal) tool to help with media conversion

if you're on linux or macOS, you can use parameter expansion to batch convert all files in a folder. put the files in one place first, then with your terminal, cd into the directory and run:

for i in *.m4a; do ffmpeg -i "$i" "${i%.*}.flac"; done

this converts from .m4a to .flac — change the file extensions if needed.

soulseek

another way to get music is through soulseek. soulseek is a peer-to-peer file sharing network which is mainly used for music. nicotine+ is a pretty intuitive (and open-source) client if you don't like the official one.

you can probably find a better tutorial on soulseek somewhere else. just wanted to make this option known

it's bad etiquette to download from people without sharing files of your own, so make sure you've got something shared. also try to avoid queuing up more than 1-2 albums from one person in a row

tagging & organizing your music

tagging: adding metadata to a music file (eg. song name, artist name, album) that music players can recognize and display

if you've ripped music from a streaming platform, chances are it's already tagged. i've gotten files with slightly incorrect tags from doubledouble though, so if you care about that then you might wanna look into it

i use musicbrainz picard for my tagging. they've got pretty extensive documentation, which will probably be more useful than me

basically, you can look up album data from an online database into the program, and then match each track with its file. the program will tag each file correctly for you (there's also options for renaming the file according to a certain structure if you're into that!)

there's also beets, which is a CLI tool for... a lot of music collection management stuff. i haven't really used it myself, but if you feel up to it then they've got extensive documentation too. for most people, though, it's not really a necessity

how you wanna organize your music is completely up to you. my preferred filestructure is:

artist > album > track # track

using a music player

the options for this are pretty expansive. commonly used players i see include VLC, foobar2000, clementine (or a fork of it called strawberry), and cmus (for the terminal)

you can also totally use iTunes or something. i don't know what audio players other systems come with

i personally use dopamine. it's a little bit slow, but it's got a nice UI and is themeable plus has last.fm support (!!!)

don't let the github page fool you, you don't have to build from source. you can find the releases here

click the "assets" dropdown on the most recent release, and download whichever one is compatible with your OS

syncing

if you're fine with your files just being on one device (perhaps your computer, but perhaps also an USB drive or an mp3 player), you don't have to do this

you can sync with something like google drive, but i hate google more than i hate spotify

you can get a free nextcloud account from one of their providers with 2GB of free storage. you can use webDAV to access your files from an app on your phone or other device (documents by readdle has webDAV support, which is what i use)

disroot and blahaj.land are a couple providers i know that offer other services as well as nextcloud (so you get more with your account), but accounts are manually approved. do give them a look though!!

if you're tech-savvy and have an unused machine lying around, look into self-hosting your own nextcloud, or better yet, your own media server. i've heard that navidrome is a pretty good audio server. i unfortunately don't have experience with self-hosting at the moment so i have like zero advice to give here. yunohost seems to be a really easy way to manage a server

afterword

i don't know if any of this is helpful, but i just wanted to consolidate my personal advice in one place. fuck big tech. own your media, they could take it away from you at any moment

[g33ktragedy]

source: https://www.worldpolicycenter.org/policies/for-how-long-are-workers-guaranteed-paid-sick-leave (live map accessed 10 Sept. 2023)

Nationwide guaranteed paid sick leave

[thegreatwicked]

This obviously needed its own post and here it is, a collection of blog posts and resources I have found and used for my own writing, I hope they help you too! Go forth and write that spice!

The Smut Writers Dictionary By @maybeeatspaghetti Seriously, how many different way are there to write cock? Does anyone else wonder if they've used the word 'lips' too many times? Well, this is a good place to start!

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut This is the first one I found and I go back to it frequently! There's also some great information about specific areas of sex that may not be common knowledge for first time writers!

How to Write Smut By @urfriendlywriter Another great source of information from different verbiage to use and a few tips to hel you along (giggity)

Smut Thesaurus By @prurientpuddlejumper just what it sounds like and you can never have too many words at your disposal.

6 Steps to Writing Better Sex By @chaoschaoswriting If you're at a loss or just want some more help this is antoher fantastic blog!

Writing Prompts NSFW By @seidenbros Need some dialogue? Or a story idea? Have a look!

#100 NSFW/Smut Dialogue Prompts By @a-cure-for-writers-block More? More. This is also a fantastic writing blog with lots to offer!

Intimate + Sexual Headcannon Questions By @petalsprompts Good questions to ask your characters to get to know them better and make more well rounded characters!

Smut & Mature (18+) Master List By @pendarling A great list dialogue prompts, scenarios, and helpful bits!

Poly NSFW Alphabet By @smaoineamhsalach Another great way to get to know your characters and maybe a handful of ideas for story ideas.

Kink Prompts Another from the previous blogger above and I didn't know what half of these are! I'll work on a kink dictionary next!

Writing Smut 101: Overcoming Smut Shame @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 There's a lot to be said for this particular subject! It's hard to write stuff like this, so how do you get over it? Start here!

How to Write a Kiss Scene By @youneedsomeprompts Yes!!! I still struggle with this one! There's a thousand ways to kiss, find your favorite!

Smut Oneliners By @deity-prompts you can never have enough one-liners!!

How to Write a (Great) Sex Scene Another great article for new smut writers

9 Tips for Writing Steamy Scenes More tips to help you wirte good steamy stuff!

How to Write Erotica and a Damn Fine Sex Scene A WEALTH if information on writing, structuring, and helpful tips!

@saradikahas a fantatic blog with graphics for you to use to add some fun to your posts. Things like MDNI Banners, 18+ Content Warnings, Support Your Favorite Writers and Reblog banners! They are free to use but she does ask that you reblog her stuff if you do! She's also a very talented writer and she writes some AMAZING Din Djarin stories!

Gay Sex Positions Guide This is a WONDERFUL adition and thank you so much @b7bubby for bringing this to my attention, I didn't have any resources for writing M/M fairings but this is a much needed addition to the spicy community! i've never written an M/M pairing and I feel like such an idiot for overlooking the need for a resource like this!

Writing the Perfect Kiss Scene provided by @writers-potiona fantastic little guide to writing better kisses!

If you find any other great smut writing resources feel free to tag me so I can add them to this list! Good luck with your writing! Now go write that story and LET THE SPICE FLOW!!!!

[slttygeto]

Oh no, it's Ghostface! HANMA S.

Synopsis: When you ask your boyfriend what he wants for his birthday, he tells you that it's a secret. How is it his birthday but you're the one getting surprised? You don't question his intentions and proceed with your day at work. Little did you know the kind of tricks Hanma had up his sleeve.

word count: 3,7k

pairing: hanma x fem! reader

content warning: dark content, slightly cnc (read at your own risk), slight breath play, gvn k!nk, fear play, rough oral sex (m! receiving), lots of drool, a bit of mindbreak?

The sound of heels clicking on the floor fills the hallway as you approach your apartment door. It had been a long, exhausting day, yet a smile still manages to find its way onto your face as you remember the date. October has never been your favorite month, you can’t exactly pinpoint the reason why but you’re always filled with sadness as the colder season approaches. 

Probably seasonal depression, who knows?

Inserting the key, you push the door open nothing but darkness greets you. It’s rare for the apartment to be engulfed in such suffocating gloom, especially knowing that your boyfriend preferred a dimly lit space. Still, you brush it off, proceeding to remove your knee high boots and place them on the shoe rack.

“Shuji?” you call out for your boyfriend, eyes trying to make out any details but it’s difficult. So you reach for the switch and flip it. Still nothing.

Did the power go out? 

It’s a pretty expensive apartment complex, you highly doubt that the power goes out and Hanma does nothing about it. So you try again, and again and–still nothing but darkness. 

“Shuuu,” you drag the first syllable of his name on your tongue, grabbing your phone to turn on the flashlight. Since it was his birthday, you had half expected him to stay home, but then again he was Kisaki’s right hand and it wasn’t rare for him to receive phone calls from the shorter man asking him to take care of something for him.

However, your body feels a little tense. Your shared apartment with your boyfriend was rather spacious, and there were many spots you disliked walking by during the night because of how hidden they were. You proceed down the hallway with your phone’s flashlight illuminating the path in front of you, sighing deeply when you notice that all of the rooms’ doors were closed and none of the curtains had been opened all day. 

You’re about to point your flashlight towards your bedroom door when you hear something to your left and freeze.

No way. There was no way for it to be Hanma. His shoes were gone, so were his car keys–but this area had a lot of security and no one would be able to walk in unless they had special access to the main lobby. There were no signs of forced entry and every single window was closed–your brain is running a thousand miles a second, and you’re too busy trying to make sense of the noise that you had just heard to react fast. Before you could point your flashlight properly towards that one corner, you swipe your thumb across your screen and click on ‘contacts’.

Suddenly, you’re pinned to the wall with such force that it knocks the wind out of your chest and a gloved hand covers your mouth in an attempt to muffle the scream that rips out of you. You’re dizzy–you’re breathing fast and trying to make sense of what’s happening around you. With teary eyes, you look up and your heart drops in your stomach. A shiny, terrifying ghostface mask is right in front of you and whoever’s wearing it is breathing hard. They notice your trembling lip, the tears coating your lash line and tilt their head to the side. 

Trembling, you think they haven’t noticed the phone in your hand despite the flashlight being the only source of light. Your thumb messily swipes across the screen and finds Shuji’s contact at the top of the list. Press call. 

The sound of a familiar ring tone fills the apartment, your eyebrows furrow in both confusion and fear. Was he here? Maybe he was hurt and needed your help and–

But the longer the phone rang, the deeper it sank that the sound was way close to you. Way too close. 

Your breath hitches as you watch the tall masked man reach into his left pocket. A gloved hand grabs the familiar phone and your name appears on the screen. Before picking up the phone, he pushes your hand up until you’re forced to press the device to your ear and you watch as he mirrors your actions.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” The unmistakable, chilling voice sends shivers down your spine. You recognize the unsettling calmness to it and all your body can do is melt against the wall as your knees buckle. But the tall man isn’t having any of it, and he pins you even harder against the wall. His gloved hand goes from your mouth down to your neck, and the grip is all too familiar that you can’t help but let out a strangled moan. 

Despite the fear gripping your bones, you part your quivering lips to reply.

“Why… Do you want to ask me out on a date?” Your voice comes out small and unsteady, and you sniffle, desperately blinking back tears. A low chuckle escapes the man’s lips as he feels your harsh swallow beneath the grip of his hand.

“Maybe… Do you have a boyfriend?” 

Before you could even manage a reply, you feel him push his knee between your thighs and a loud gasp escapes your lips. “I–”

“Do you?” The emphasis in his voice combined with his knee rubbing against your clothed pussy leaves you breathless. You can’t give a proper reply, not with your head tipped back in pleasure and your hips bucking up when he grazes your aching clit. Sensing that you were enjoying yourself, your boyfriend pulls away his knee and you’re immediately whining at the loss. 

“Shuji–” you can’t see his face or what kind of expression is behind the mask, but you would hope that your desperation moves something in him. However, you forget that your boyfriend is a ruthless criminal, someone with years of expertise in physical and psychological torture. And he makes sure to put it to good use. 

A pained moan escapes you when you’re being roughly pushed off the wall, only for your chest and cheek to get pinned to the cold, hard surface. Your phone falls to the ground and Hanma grabs both of your wrists, pinning them behind your back. You feel powerless as he pushes up the brown leather skirt you were wearing, hissing when he sees that you were wearing the smallest pair of underwear beneath. 

“Did ya prepare for this, doll? Knew I was gonna fuck ya senseless the moment you walked in–” he momentarily breaks character, forgetting the role he’s supposed to be playing and you feel your heart and pussy swell. Being able to distract a man like Hanma was something you took pride in. You instinctively push back against him, brushing your ass against his crotch and hear yet another loud hiss from the man.

“Fucking slut.” The plastic part of the mask feels chilling and unsettlingly hard against your ear as filth spews out of his mouth. Muffled and low, the sound of his voice alone is enough to have your mind reeling at all the things he will say.

“Answer me.” You don’t expect something hard to press against your clothed pussy so soon, your jaw drops at the cold feeling as you struggle to get away from it.

“Shuji!” you cry out for the man, but to no avail.

“Shuji,” he says in a mocking tone, pressing the item harder against your pussy as he grabs your wrists in place. “How fucking pathetic, you’ve already gone dumb just from something rubbing against your pussy?” His voice drips with dark amusement. Hanma knows how to have fun with you, sex with him is never boring simply because the way that his brain works was fascinating–but you had always wondered if you could get a glimpse of a darker side of him. 

However, up until today, he always rejected the idea. Primarily due to the fact that you were his girlfriend, someone whom he cherished with all of his cold and sheltered heart and a person whom he liked to keep away from his business. To the world, he is Hanma–a ruthless killer with a criminal background that could paralyze anyone with fear but to you, he was Shuji. Your sweet, loving boyfriend. 

Your loving boyfriend who always fucked you when he came back from a mission with blood painting his face, your sweet and doting boyfriend who let you ride his face because you found him so hot when there were a few cuts and bruises there. You suggest that he integrates his dangerous side during sex and he refuses, but the idea lingers at the forefront of his mind the longer he remembers the pout sitting on your lips and how eager you seemed with everything. 

So, the first step was to buy a ghostface mask. 

And the second was to fuck you while he wears it. 

“Yes,” you answer, barely catching your breath. “I-I prepared.”

“Oh yeah?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “You wanted me to fuck you?”

“It’s y-your birthday,” your breath hitches when the cold material presses harder against your clit, and Hanma watches as you subconsciously move back and forth against it with a wide grin. 

“Fucking hell, look at you. Do you know what you’re fucking yourself on, slut?”

You whimper, a sign of confusion and Hanma offers an amused chuckle before pressing the mask against your ear.

“My gun.” 

He sees your eyes widening and laughs loudly when you don’t pull away or flinch. Instead, you move your hips back and forth–slow and sloppy, face burning with shame. This had been a fantasy of yours–you’re starting to believe that Hanma has wanted to do this just as much as you did. 

“Didn’t know you wanted it this bad,” he’s obviously caught off guard by how needy you are, but it doesn’t stop him from pressing harder and nudging your clit in ways that have your eyes roll to the back of your head. He watches as shame leaves your body and it’s replaced by pure lust as you chase your high. You’re panting, eyes screwed shut and lips parted to let out the sweetest moans. 

“Yeah just like that–” you can feel his hard on pressing against your backside, but you’re far too distracted to care. “Use my gun to get off. Good girl–my pretty slut.” 

Pleasure courses through your veins like hot lava, it blinds you momentarily and shuts down your brain as you desperately chase your orgasm. You’re certain that the sentences you were blabbering made no sense, you could hear Hanma speaking to you and could make out that he was mocking you by saying “Oh yeah?” “Oh baby, poor you.” but none of it mattered when you were so close to your release. Your thighs tremble, your voice a pitch higher and there’s drool dripping down the side of your mouth. The knot in your stomach feels hot and tightens with each desperate grind against the gun. You’re about to cum, you’re so fucking close–

A pained cry leaves your lips when Hanma pulls the gun away, heartless and cold. 

“Why?! Why–” you sob before flinching when he lets go of your wrists to spank you harshly.

“Are you fucking questioning me?” He grips your hair harshly, pulling your head back and craning your neck at an uncomfortable angle. “You don’t fucking deserve to cum.”

“But–but Shuji–” still gripping your hair, Hanma pushes you down until you’re on your knees and you instinctively turn around until you’re eye level with his crotch. Eager and blinded with lust, your hands reach for his belt and start to unbuckle it but Hanma grips your hair tighter and you gasp at the pain.

“Didn’t say you could touch it yet, did I?” Now that you were on your knees for him, Hanma could confidently say that this was the hottest sight ever. Your makeup was smudged, mascara running down your cheeks and your eyes were blown out with lust. He should’ve done it sooner. 

“Please,” you lean forward, chin resting on his hard on and your hands rest on his ass. “Please,” you drag your nose against the fabric of his pants, before pressing a gentle kiss to his clothed dick. “I can make you feel good, Mr. Ghostface.”

Hanma lets out a muffled “fuck,” before pushing your face against his dick and you take it as a sign to get to work. You make quick work of his belt and pants before pulling down his boxers and watch as his cock springs free. You don’t waste a single second before wrapping your hand around the shaft, gripping it enough to have the man’s breath hitching. His cock was a work of art, and you always found yourself enjoying oral sex with Hanma mainly because you enjoyed having his cock in your mouth. So you kiss the balls, dragging your tongue along the shaft and don’t give the man a warning before letting your mouth engulf the tip. It’s a small move, but it makes the masked man grip your hair tightly and the silence is now replaced by the much anticipated dirty talk. 

“Fuck, do I love when you use your mouth like that,” he sounds so fucked out, drowning in pleasure that you can’t help but let out a moan yourself. The vibrations send shivers down Shuji’s spine and he is quick to remind you to take the whole thing.

“Suck.” Within a few moments, there is spit and drool everywhere. Your hand strokes the parts you can’t reach, and you pull away to spit on the tip whenever you can before bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Hanma, however, is still not satisfied. 

“You’re gonna take the whole thing.” Your eyes widen at his statement, and you pull away to complain. 

“But Shuji–” your heart stops when you feel something cold press against your forehead. 

“Come on, doll.” You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and through teary lashes. “Don’t look away.” 

Your hands tremble as they settle on his thighs for support and you’re glad he doesn’t ask you to put them behind your back. Inhaling deeply, you look up at the man as you start to swallow his dick–inch after inch, the deeper he goes, the harder it is to keep your eyes open or stop yourself from gagging. And when you do and try to pull away, Hanma pushes the gun against your forehead. Finally, you manage to fit all of him down your throat and you’re proud to hear the muffled groan that leaves Hanma’s lips. You could’ve sworn that you saw his knees buckle as well, but you can’t afford to focus on anything else with his cock down your throat.

“Good fucking girl, oh fuuuuck,” he lets out a laugh when you pull away to breathe, coughing and trying to catch your breath before grabbing his cock again. “Oh yeah, someone’s desp–fuck, desperate.” you hum in response, taking him down your throat before repeating the same movement over and over again. Until Hanma’s hips buck into your face and he presses your nose against his pubic hair. You cough and gag, drool spilling down your jaw. You’re smacking his thigh, reminding him that you needed air but to no avail. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you swear dark dots are starting to form. You were going to pass out, you can’t breathe–

It’s not until your fingers aren’t digging into the skin of his thighs that Hanma lets go of you. He watches as you fall to the ground, a hand to your chest as you try to catch your breath and messily wipe the drool on your chin. 

“Up.” He speaks, and your body responds to his command as if it were second nature. You feel dizzy, and the longer Shuji wears the mask, the more difficult it is to remember who’s behind the mask. A gloved hand grabs your jaw, pulling you close until the lips of the mask are brushing against your own. 

“Tell me,” he says lowly, his other hand traveling down to grab your ass. “How much do you want me to fuck you?” 

“So-so much,” you admit, broken. You can no longer think straight or try to mask the lust. Your body craves Hanma like the moon needs the stars, you’ve never been teased like this–so heartlessly, without being able to look into his golden eyes for comfort and a way to ground yourself. There was no reminder that it was your boyfriend, the one who gives you the softest smiles and whose eyes meet yours when you’re about to cum. Behind this mask was a different man, and you were starting to lose your grip on reality. 

The gloved hand goes from your jaw to your cheek, and you let out a small noise when you feel him wiping something. 

Tears. 

Hanma is well aware of his sick and twisted desires, but watching you cry is on another level. It makes his cock twitch and his heart beats loudly against his ribcage.

“Beg me.” 

“Please.” You ask, desperately. 

“Again.” 

“Please fuck me–please, Shuj–please.” You start to blabber, lips quivering and fat tears streaming down your face. Hanma finally breaks. 

You’re caught off guard as he throws you over his shoulder, letting out a startled squeak when he forcefully pushes the door open to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t give you time to get used to your surroundings as throws you on the bed before grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down to the edge of the bed. It’s still dark in the apartment, and Hanma doesn’t have enough time to turn the power back on, so he reaches for the curtains and pulls them open so that the only source of light was the street lamp outside. 

He approaches the bed again, hurried and impatient to fuck you stupid. Before he can reach for your panties, your hand goes to his ghostface mask and he doesn’t have it in him to stop you from taking it off of him. 

Finally, you can see his face. He was all sweaty, flushed cheeks and a few hair strands sticking to his forehead not to mention–his pupils were blown out with lust. This was your Shuji, your boyfriend–the ghostface mask was hot, but you preferred this side of your boyfriend. You waste no time to bring him closer to you, crashing your lips against his in a messy, tongues dancing and spit swapping kiss. It’s anything but romantic, your bodies consumed with an animalistic kind of lust for one another. Instead of taking off your panties, Hanma rips them off of your body and muffles your complaining noises with his lips once again.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” Is all he says before pushing your knees open. Your pussy is glistening with arousal, all puffy and swollen from not being touched enough and Hanma leans down to spit on it and give your clit a wet kiss.

“Fuck–” your close your eyes at the feeling, suddenly growing aware of all of the layers on your body that needed to come off. But you didn’t have time for that, and neither did Hanma. So, he pushes up your turtleneck shirt and watches as your boobs spill out. Holding the fabric, your boyfriend proceeds to push your knees to your chest line up the tip of his cock with your entrance.

He lets himself in, slowly and taking in the way your jaw goes slack and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. You had been craving this, you were practically begging for his cock and watching you unravel just from him pressing inside made it nearly impossible for Hanma to hold back.

“Come here,” he leans down to kiss your lips, sloppy and wet as he starts to move his hips. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, leaving creamy rings at the base that has Hanma cursing under his breath. Meanwhile, your head is thrown back and you don’t seem to notice or feel anything but the way that his cock felt against your warm walls. 

“Thought of giving me the best birthday gift–fuck, you are my birthday gift,” the tall man starts to blabber, clearly lost in the pleasure and in the feeling of your tight pussy. “This pussy is the best gift I could’ve asked for–” he bites down on your bottom lip, finally getting you to whine in response. Your hands grip his shoulders when he starts to pick up his pace, eyes widening when his tip starts to press against that one spot.

“Yes right there–oh fuck, right there!”

“I got you.” your legs are thrown over his shoulder and a hand wraps around your neck as he maintains his pace, hips remaining in the same angle that has you seeing stars. It’s not until you’re cumming around his cock, crying and shaking, that Hanma can finally lose himself and fuck you hard. He fucks you until you’re crying for him to slow down, watching as the creamy ring that forms at the base is smeared all over his pubic hair and your hand is pushing at his stomach.

“I can’t–I can’t–”

“Take it,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fucking pussy is milking me dry–holy shit.” he curses as he buries his face in your neck, feeling you squeeze around him as you orgasm again. The feeling of your tight pussy along with your nails digging into his back has the man shooting his cum inside after a couple of strokes.

You both lay there in silence for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breath and party because Hanma knows you need this skin on skin moment. This wasn’t a moment where he could wipe you down, kiss you goodnight and go to sleep–he needed to be present.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

“Hold me,” hearing the desperation in your voice, Hanma lowers your legs and brings you closer to him. He kisses your cheeks, forehead and then your nose. There are tears in your eyes still, but the eye contact with him helps ground you. The love and warmth in them remind you that it’s him, your boyfriend and not Ghostface who had fucked your face senseless. 

“Happy birthday, Shu,” you say as you grab his face and the tall man can’t help but chuckle.

“Happy birthday to me.”

2024 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”

[cyn-write]

"You've Bewitched Me"

Prompt - NRC is in upheaval. A video of Yuu singing a song has been circling around the school about her being "bewitched," and everyone is trying to figure out by who. Yuu is embarrassed and upset about her private song being the subject of gossip, so she decides to hide from everyone only for her crush to find her and reveal he has been "bewitched," by her...

Pairings - NRC Students x F!reader

Warnings - Gossip, Incredibly Shy Reader with Stage Fright, Depictions of Anxiety, Not Beta Read

Song - "Bewitched" by Laufey

Prologue (Here) - Heartsyble - Savannaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignanhyde - Diasmonia

When @/thegreatestmagealive uploaded a video of the Ramshackle Perfect singing a love song, to say NRC nearly blew up would be an understatement.

The song, the poster titled “Bewitched,” became an instant hit across campus, but also became the source of tension as everyone was asking the same question: Who bewitched the Ramshackle Perfect?

“20 Thumbmarks on Leona!”

“15 on Kalim!”

“Kalim? Really, no it has to be Vil!”

“30 DOLLARS ON LORD MALLEUS!”

“EVERYONE HUSH! Now Francis, how much on Vil?” The Halls of NRC were filled with gossip on who the song was about. There were multiple pots floating around of people betting on who it was about, and just as many heated discussions.

“Who says it’s a housewarden? She spends most of her time with the Freshies so it has to be one of them! My money is on the Red Head on the Basketball team, he is always hanging on her!” A Scarabia student chimed in at this corner table of the Cafateria.

“Ace? He’s an ass, no it has to be Spade! Anytime someone makes a comment about he at practice, he gets all defensive.” A Heartstyble student on the track team chimed in.

“That runt? Na, he has nothing on Jack.” The Savannaclaw student across from them chimed in.

“The Wolf? He barely says any words! Besides, the Perfect has more class than that, it has to be Epel!” A Pomefoire Student retorted getting glares from the Savannaclaw student.

“All of you are wrong, I ran the data,” The Ignanhyde student pulled out his tablet and showed them a chart, “Out of all the possibilities crossed referenced with the lyrics of the song, it has to be-“

Debates across the school were happening as people discussed who she was singing for. While some advocated for others, others advocated for themselves.

That night, in the midst of the debates, a poor Grim was looking for a place to stay the night. So he went first to Heartstyble.

Grim walked through the portal and saw *chaos*.

“CAULDRON!”

“DEUCE WHAT THE HELL!”

“Calm down you two! No one is going anywhere till Riddle gets back!”

Trey helped Ace out from under the cauldron while Cater tried to calm down Deuce who was red as roses. “Yuu’s private song was just released and all you can think about it YOURSELF!” Deuce called out to Ace as he attempted to wesal himself out of Cater’s grip.

Ace dusted himself off as Trey helped him up, “Well, it is pretty obvious! Who else could it be about? You Loosey Duece? Or maybe Mr. Magicam? Chef Dad? Or maybe, our esteemed leader? No. It has to be me, so I am going to go check on her-“

Deuce tackled Ace, again, so Trey and Cater had to dive in to separate the two.

It did not take long for grim to realize it might be best to come back later. So he went back through the portal to try Savannaclaw.

But his scruff was grabbed before he could step through.

“Heeeey, Sealie!!” Grim gulped as he knew that voice all too well. Floyd turned Grim around so he was facing the two most terrifying smiles in NRC. “Mind clearing something up for Jade and I? See, he thinks Shrimpy’s song is about him, but I say its bout me. And every guppy is saying a different name, so we wanted to get info from them inside fishie~”

“W-what are you talking about!” Grim said crossing his arms. He knew he was in deeeeep dodo.

“Come now Grim, you must know who she’s singing about?” Jade said with a sonically smile on his face, “Now, as Yuu’s close friends, we just want to know, who bewitched our dear friend?”

“Yeeeaaah Sealie, who?” Floyd sung melodically.

“I-I ain’t saying anything!” Grim kept his mouth shut. He had already made Yuu mad, he didn’t want to make. It any worse.

“Oh come on Sealie! Everyone has a price! What’s yours??-“

“What are you two doing?” Came the harsh voice of Vil, Grim’s savior. The housewarden meeting must have finished. Early as all seven, yes even Malleus, came into the hall of mirrors to witness poor little grim shiver in his fur.

“Heya Beta!” Floyd said and waved Grim around, “We’re just asking Sealie a question! That’s all!”

“I’m guessing it’s about Yuu?” Azul asked as he made his way over to his Eel’s. “How is the Ramshackle Perfect? We missed her at the meeting.”

“Yuu… wellllllllll….” Grim scratched his cheek and the other housewarden’s came over, all wondering the same thing, “She is kinda sorta mad at me. And kinda sorta threw me out for ‘not respecting her privacy’ which I didn’t mean to get her upset, I just wanted to show everyone she had a pretty voice and she got all mad.”

“We’ll if you need a place to stay, Octavinelle is always open to poor souls! And I am sure we can work out a pi-“

“We all know what you want Azul, just ask him now so we can clear this up!” Leona said, clearly annoyed at the Mers underhanded methods. “Whose the song about?”

“I-I don-“

“Why are we even asking this question? It is clearly me!” Vil said shaking his head.

“What makes you so sure Schoenheit?” Malleus asked, “I spend more time with the Child of Man and have more magical prowess, it is defiantly about me. I was just about to grab her the-“

“No way the songs about you Lizard!” Leona retorted, “She clearly-“

“The Song’s about Nii-Chan! I ran the-“ Ortho chimed in with Idia listening in on his screen.

“WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET!” Riddle yelled, somehow getting the attention of the others, “This is disgraceful! You are. All concerned with your own selfish needs when you should be worrying about our fellow housewarden whose privacy has been breached and is probably distraught!”

Kalim nodded and said, “Yeah, we need to go cheer her up! Besides, it was probably just a song about love, nothing else!”

Grim sighed and added, “Oh its about someone, You she hear the other songs she wrote about him-“

“About WHO!” Everyone asked.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Grim said and got the glares of everyone.

Azul sighed and said, “You just said you knew.”

“I said I knew she has a crush and wrote more songs about him. I never said I knew WHO it was.” He crossed his arms and looked at the ground, “And she threw me out before I could ask. I tried going back in but she sounded so… upset. When I asked to come back in and apologized she said she just wanted to be alone…”

The group looked dejected at this. Floyd let Grim go and sighed, “Poor Shrimpy…”

Azul looked at Jade and Floyd, “Let’s go, Lounge won’t run itself.”

As Azul left with his Eels, Leona and Kalim also branched off their dorms, “Jamil is probably wondering where I am.”

“Yeah, I gotta make sure Savannaclaw is still in one piece.”

Vil and Ortho branched off next with Vil grumbling about wrinkles and Ortho talking to Idia.

Riddle and Malleus were the last two left with Grim.

“Grim, your welcome to stay at Heartstyble. It might help keep Ace and Deuce in.” Riddle said then looked to Malleus, “The Perfect probably needs a night, but if you do check on her, please let her know I-… We are here if she needs us.”

“I will Roseheart,” Malleus nodded to his red haired companion as he and Grim walk through the Heartstyble Mirror. Malleus turns and before he can make his way to Ramshackle, Lilia is there. All he has to do is shake his head and Malleus knows what his mentor is trying to say, she needs time alone.

The next morning, the first years go to Ramshackle to walk with Yuu to breakfast as they do every morning, but when they got their, the ghost intervened and said she needs to sleep in. The three ghost refused to let any of them enter and even brought Grim’s stuff to the door.

Yuu did not show to any of her classes or reply to any text, and all of her friends quickly understood why. Yuu’s song was all everyone was talking about, more specifically, who it was about. All the pots from the nights before had tripled and almost every students had a guess on who it was about. Yuu has never felt more embarrassed.

By the time night rolled around again, Yuu had read every text, post, and comment about her song. People were making guesses and demanding she confess who. In the midst of the chaos and rumors, all she could think about was what her crush was thinking. She had liked him as more than a friend for a while now, but had no clue if he returned the sentiment. All the worse possibilities were running through her head.. ‘He probably thinks I’m some obsessed freak, this is so embarrassing, Grim ruined. everything, there is no coming back from this. our friendship is ruined, I can never show my face at school again…” Thoughts like this combined with her stage fright made her mood worse. She wrote songs and sang them to help her work through things, it was incredibly personal for her and she never intended to share any of them, not yet at least. Now she was lying in her bed, curled up in her blankets with her phone lighting up with text next to her. She could not bring herself to talk to anyone, she was too scared and embarrassed to.

The Ghost have been kind enough to fend off Grim (who she was still mad at) and her friends (who she was still too embarrassed to see) so she could have some time alone. They worked as her guards and caretakers, making her eat and get up every now and then. They were also the only ones who knew who her songs were about.

So when he arrived on her doorstep, the ghost decided to let him in.

Yuu was looking at her notebook, pouring over the lyrics again and again when a knock came at her bedroom door.

“Yuu… can I come in?” His voice carried through the door.

Yuu felt her heart stop. She held her notebook tightly and sighed, “I guess its now or never…”

She got up from her bed, notebook in hand, and stood in front of the door. She was shaking and as she stared at the door, terrified of what would happen next, when he cast a spell over her once again:

“Yuu, I… I don’t. know if that song was about me but I want you to know. You’ve bewitched me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: This is the Prolouge to a small series! Be on the look out for each characters part and if you want tagged please let me know! Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[quixotical-lymbo]

Pairing: Orion Pax x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Why did you agree to join Orion on a day out which promised a 'fun' time?  Warnings/Tags: SPOILERS for the transformers one movie, cybertronian reader, running from the law, awkward first kiss, forced bonding/j, flirting, banter, humor, acquaintances to friends to…?, and fluff.  Word Count: 1300+ words 

"...find anything yet?" 

You jumped and juggled the recording in your servos. Gasping as it slipped between your digits a few times before you had a firm hold on it with both servos. You glared at the mech hanging over your shoulder, who rose his servos as he backed up from you. 

"No, nothing yet," You answered as you carefully placed the recording back in its original spot. Your optics ran over the many shelves and cases full of records, a huff left you as you turned to ask, "You?" 

"None," Orion took out a recording and discarded it carelessly. 

"...you know we should probably go," You stepped away from the shelf and approached Orion's back. You stopped just a few steps away from him, peering around his arm to see the mech filtering through the piles on the table. "Before we get caught again." 

"We won't get caught, stop being a wuss," Orion reassured with a laugh. 

"Hey! What are you two doing over there? Wait, is that Orion Pax again?!" 

The two of you shared horrified looks before scrambling from the records as the shouting officers demanded you two to stop. 

"I told you we would get caught!" You blew your top as you sprinted beside Orion. 

"And I'm telling you we won't-!" Optimus turned a corner and grunted when he slammed against a wall. 

"Dead end?" Optimus glanced up and saw the vents were boarded up. "Damn, they really prepared this time." 

"See? See? This is exactly why I should've listened to D to not come with you," You shook your digit at Orion before dropping your face into your palm. "We are going to get demoted for sure." 

"...halt!"

The approaching voices caused you to fret even more, but Orion was immune to the panic as he focused on finding a way out of this. He glanced around the corridor before his optics landed on a window. 

You felt something grab your wrist and before you could squeal you were pulled along. Your optics fell on the window that Orion was leading the both of you to and you began shaking your helm frantically. 

"No, no, no, don't you da-!" 

"Too late for that!" Orion pulled you close and shielded your frame with his as he rammed through the glass. 

A scream ripped from your intake as the two of you pummeled toward the ground, other cybertronians and the like zooming past the two of you.

Fortunately, the two of you landed on an overhang attached to a wall, the force ricocheted you both into breaking another window and falling inside of a building. Orion rolled with you in his arms for a few seconds until he rolled onto his back, then he unwrapped his arms from you. 

Out of breath and gasping for air, You and Orion gawked at each other for a moment before a giggle left your dermas. Orion couldn't hold back anymore and also broke out a fit of chuckles while you weakly dismounted from him and sat on the ground. Your optics observed the broken pieces of glass that led to the elevated window you two entered from.

It….was really high up, not even Orion seemed tall enough to reach it. 

 

"What did I say? We wouldn't get caught and here we are now! Not getting screamed at or forced to work another long hour of-" Orion faltered as did his optics observing your back. Him seeing your shoulders slump as well as the lack of your usual taunts spooked him. 

"...___? Is something wrong?" Orion got off of the ground and joined you by your side. He placed a servo on your shoulder and leaned forward to gauge your reaction. 

"Pax…" You began. "We're trapped." 

"What?" Orion's optics widened. 

"Look." 

So he did and he didn't like what he saw. 

Orion examined the building they were in and how dark it was. There wasn't any light sources other than the light streaming in from the window. Everything else was boarded up and the room appeared…abandoned to say the least. 

There were a few boxes and carts here and there, but other than those things it was fairly empty. 

"Scrap," Orion hissed. "Look, ___, I-" 

He turned to you and shut his trap up when you held up a servo. 

"It's fine, I expected things to go to scrap the moment I agreed to go on this 'outing,'" You curled your digits to make the 'quote-on-quote' gesture before dropping your arms. You turned on your heel strut and walked over to the nearest wall and slid down onto your aft. Orion watched you go, his face twisting with a flurry of emotions before he decided to sit beside you with his legs stretched out. 

"..." You couldn't find the strength to speak or entertain a conversation now of all times. You didn't hate Orion, or find him that annoying like every other bot did. In fact, you liked him, more than you were willing to admit to his face or D's (who had an inkling and brought it up one time–but you quickly shut that down before his smug ideas could land you in trouble). You curled your knees to your chassis and burrowed your helm in your arms.

"..."

"Soooo…you come here often?" 

You raised your helm enough to peek your optics out and give Orion a look.

He smiled back. 

"Yeah, I come here all the time when I want to avoid dumb idiots like a certain red and blue mech," You shot back as your tone came out harsher than intended. 

Orion halfheartedly giggled before shooting you with another ridiculous response, "I'm pretty positive that the red and blue mech doesn't mean any harm…and he's very very sorry." 

You couldn't hide the smile growing on your faceplate. Rolling your optics and making contact with the bigger mech's face, you played along with his game. "Oh, is that so? Because I don't think bringing me to a dark, scary place is an ideal first date I'd imagine us going on."

It was Orion's turn to look at you. Stunned as his cheeks flushed with a light hue. 

 "Well, I, uh…" 

You looked away and smirked at your win. Even if he laughed it off or rebuffed you, it was nice that you could make him shut up for once. 

"...I could take you somewhere nicer…for next time." 

You almost had a whiplash from how fast your helm turned on your shoulders. You studied Orion's face for any signs of this being some cruel joke, but nothing prepared you for the soft expression and heated gaze that allowed you to drink in all of its vulnerability. 

Oh….oh.

"I'd love that," You admitted, optics shying away from his intense gaze. You unfurled from the ball you curled in and placed your servos on the ground.  A relieved sigh rumbled from Orion's chassis as he turned his gaze to stare off into space, his servo slowly inching away from his side and toward yours. 

You flinched when something tapped your pinkie, you peeked down and saw Orion's digit nudging against yours. Your dermas curved as your faceplate was set ablaze, you hooked your digit around Orion's—who in turn interlocked your servos together. 

The two cybertronians glanced up from their joined limbs and stared into each other's optics. 

Time slowed as the two of you leaned forward, you could practically hear each other's sparks beating wildly as the gap sealed with a kiss.

His dermas gently pressed against  yours, his other servo cupped the back of your helm and your own rested on his chassis. The kiss was soft and a bit awkward as Orion's forehelm knocked into yours a few times. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful experience. 

As you tilted your helm to deepen the kiss-

A loud bang caused the two of you to separate and stare at the two guards who blocked the only exit of the place. 

"EW! Public displays of affection and breaking into an official building is not allowed!" 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. star banner by @enchanthings !!

[grugruel]

The Girl Who Cried Cowboy

Parings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: When drinking too much at one of her father's summer parties, she realises just how inappropriate her feelings are for her fathers best friend. And he has to drive her home.

Word count: 3.2

Warnings: cowboy hat, rough sex, pinv sex, kintchen-counter sex (woooh), doggy, creampie, praise, strong feelings, "I love you", mutual pining, tension, pet names (sweetheart, girl, ma'am, darlin', woman), slight angst, sundress kink, hair pulling.

Low chatter and calm music soothed her, tuning her mind to familiar nostalgia as she faded into memory of old summer nights.

Nights much like this one.

The singing birds, the perfectly temperatured air, and the warm kisses from the last rays of the setting sun.

Her parents' big grass-clad backyard in which she sometimes slept, like now, she enjoyed the infiltrating clovers that softened the ground beneath her.

And the blue open sky that stretched above her like a lustriously painted ceiling. It was deep at this hour, but not dark. Even so, it slowly lightened as it merged into the pastel colors of the horizon.

Her world whirled, stretching and contracting mildly as a slight buzz from her many emptied beers took a pleasant hold of her senses. She smiled, putting the half spilled bottle to her lips once again. Not minding one bit that she had toppled over, rather just loving the way the grass tickled her skin as her sheer sundress bunched high on her thighs. Especially enjoying the way it moved against her nipples, now very glad she'd opted out of wearing a bra today–

'You sure know how to catch my attention, sweetheart.' A voice mused.

She faced its source but already knew who it belonged to, its presence only making her night better. He'd always been her favorite out of her dad's friends.

The sun painted her face a golden orange, as she turned toward him. A tall, blurry figure stood by her side, she squinted, and a handsome cowboy materialised. The shapes forming him steadied. She could make out the gruff hands around his belt buckle, his face, and the cowboy hat on his head. Which was busy shielding his eyes from the sun, their intent gaze observing her from beneath its rim.

She smiled knowingly. 'Buck!' She erupted, throwing her arms upward as if to hug him from the ground, spilling beer all around her in the process. 'Join me.' She giggled, and her arms fell to pat the ground at her sides.

The cowboy shook his head with a chuckle. He had never been able to say no to her.

Her bare, bent knees lulled against his lap as she moved closer to his relaxed form. She took another swig of beer, then pointed at the sky above them.

Towering over their laying forms, the sky held a full moon in its mixing colors, the suns reflection only illuminating its silvery brightness and amplifying the contrasts.

'Ain't it pretty?'

-

His wandering eyes roamed her face, the alcohol fueled blush that adorned it, and the strands of wild hair that framed her like a canvas. He wanted noting more than to push them behind her ears so he could admire her in full. He willed his eyes from traveling south. He could not, it was unfair to her and her father.

-

He hummed. 'Sure is.'

She shut her eyes, attempting to collect herself. It must be the alcohol, surely. But she hadn't even had that much to drink, had she? She placed the hat on her head properly. Forgetting herself entierly.

She faced him again, meeting his eyes. He watched the blush expand across her face as she realised it was her that he was talking about. The girl, suddenly shy. Grabbed his hat from his head and covered her giggling face. His charm was dangerous, she couldnt help herself around him. Her face poked out from beneath the hat, eyes studying him carefully as he looked back up at the moon. The colors of the sky and the green of the grass running parallel to his profile. His forehead, nose, lips, and chin placed perfectly in between them, running like a mountain range in a horizon. She got a strong urge the kiss his perfectly handsome face– ugh, fuck. . .

'Buck?'

He hummed.

'Could you drive me home?' She just needed to sleep it off, these feeling would be gone in the morning. She was sure.

He looked back at her. '. . .'Course darlin.' His eyes wandered over his hat, on her head. His lips tightened into a line as he cleared his throat.

The girl nodded. 'Can you tell dad? I hate to leave the party early, but I think I over did the drinkin'. . .' She lied. She wasn't sick, nor drunk, drunk. She just felt too guilty to speak with her dad directly when these types of thoughts ran rampid about his best friend.

Her world devolved into streaks of color as he pulled her to her feet. The booze affected body betrayed her as the footing failed beneath her feet– she collided with his chest, and his quick hands shot to her waist– catching her before she took another tumble. 'Easy there.' His drawl in full effect.

He laughed, but nodded. 'He'll understand, im sure. Your father's a wise man.' And grabbed her shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly. Then stood, and held his hand out for her to take.

Everything whirled around her, everything except him. She could see him perfectly clear. The pair locked eyes, enjoying the feeling of his big hands molding to her waist. Something tugged on them, pulling them closer to each other. Lips brushing, noses touching. She felt dizzy, the pair of them hiding their faces under the brim of his hat. It somehow felt easier. Hands slipping to her hips, squeezing. Their heavy breathing, drinking each other in, and the squeeking of the patio door– in horror they pulled off of each other, akwardness seeping into the space between them. She kept her eyes on the ground as she realised she was wearing his hat. She'd put it on, hadn't she? Oh. . . Fuck– but she had no time to worry about its insinuations right now, and quickly removed it, pushing it back into Bucky's hands.

'Ah, there you both are!' It was her dad, walking in a straight line toward them.

She prayed he hadn't seen anything. As everyone had moved the party inside when the night began to fall.

He slapped a hand on buckys shoulder, greeting him happily.

Thank god, she sighed in relief.

But there was an akward silence, where none of them said much of anything for a second.

'Whats goin' on, who died?' Her father joked, a dry chuckle following it. But a tinge of true uncertainty lingered in his voice as he looked at them with skeptical eyes.

'Im just not feelin' to good.' She scrambled to explain, as bucky scratched his neck, not managing to come up with a good excuse himself. 'I was thinkin' of headin' home. Buck'll drive me.'

Her father gave her a slanted smile and ruffled her hair. 'Yeah? To much to fast?'

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. 'Sorry.'

He tilted his head, searching her eyes. 'Dont apologize sweetheart. Its ok. I'll see ya' later, yeah?'

She nodded again, and he kissed her on top of her head.

She loves her dad, and to prove it she'd almost kissed his best friend. Shame gnawed at her, she couldn't do that to him.

He turned to Bucky. 'You comin' back later then?'

'I'm not sure.' Bucky dared a flicker of a glance in her direction, and lowered his voice. 'Gotta get 'er home first, make sure shes alright.'

Her father nodded, seamingly appreciating the gesture. If he only knew.

'But you'll notice if I turn up.' Bucky laughed, attempting a joke to defuse the situation and playfully hit her father on the arm.

He smiled. 'Well, alright, good then. Drive safe.' The men gave each other a short embrace. 'Thank you, Buck. You're a good friend.' She heard her father whisper as they patted each other on the back warmly.

Guilt, shame, neither could begin to describe what she was feeling. She'd need to invent a new word for it.

The walk to the truck was quiet. The only proof of the life altering almost-kiss was the comforting hand he placed on her back, and now held much more meaning than that in which an old friend once had.

The sun disappeared beyond the distant treeline. A big wheatfield separated it from the dirtroad they found themselves driving down. Trees lined its path, their leafy crowns casting a high overhang above them.

Oh, how stunning, but the window would not wind down. Frustrated, she pushed it repeatedly. Her mind was not wrapping around the fact that it just wouldn't work, pure stubbornness egging her on. As she dared not ask Bucky for help. They'd been riding in silence ever since the encounter with her dad–

'You feelin' any better?' He asked, clearing his throat. The anxious avoidance of speaking had created a croak in it.

She had too much on her mind. She was overheating, just wanting some air. 'I'm fine, just a little warm.' The button was taunting her, no matter how hard she pushed it.

'Just– slow down, doll.' Bucky reached over her seat to unlock the door, then pushed the button to lower the window. Oh. . .

Sweet relief, she leaned her head against the frame of the open window. The freshness of nature and its many scents rolled into the truck in waves of pure air, clearing her mind of what it could. But as it mixed and matched with Buckys own, his perfume and masculine musk, rubbed her senses just right. It began working in the opposite effect.

'Thank you.' She spared him a glance, smiling faintly. Immidietly regretting it as she was reminded of how good he looked in the hat.

His hand fell from the door to her knee. It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, one he'd done may times before. 'You're welcome, sweetheart.'

Oh. . But this time, everything slowed, shes sure of it. Flames that should not have sparked inside her were now, in fact, raging. She screwed her eyes shut. Damp breeze, floweres, grass, birds. . . She tried to focus, to think of something else, but– hand, his hand. Moving in slow-motion, squeezing the flesh above her knee. Then, the loss of his touch.

Her eyes shot open, and suddenly, time hastened again– she grabbed his hand and without even thinking, replaced it higher on her thigh. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she felt the cowboys eyes bore into her. God, it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

'Girl. . .' There laid warning in his tone. They were headed into dangerous territory. Yet without heeding his own warning, his fingers dug into her upper thigh, eyes landing on the pushed up skirt of her dress. He grabbed it between his fingertips and pulled it down, exhaling a big breath as if it took everything in him not to do the opposite.

She shook her head in compressed motions, the feeling of his skin was heavenly. His hand alone, without touching any crucial parts of her, set her aflame. Hesitation still lingering in her body as she fought her thoughts.

The car screeched to a halt, they'd arrived at her house. Fuck, thank, god.

She reached for the door, realising in horror that she still held onto his hand. As she made to shake herself free, he entwined his fingers with hers and sighed, knowing full well why she was in such a rush. 'Hold on now, darlin', slow down.' He met her eyes. 'Let me help you down, at least.'

Breathe, she willed herself, and nodded to him. Waiting impatiently for Bucky to open her door. Her world spinning, the real problem was that it simply wasn't alcohol induced anymore.

The door opened, and he gripped her waist, lifting her out in a swift motion. Her skin– well, everything tingled at his touch. He set her down, on steady feet, and unsteady mind. 'We should talk about this.' He tried, following her as she marched toward her door.

'About what? There's nothing to talk about.'

'Darlin'. . .'

'Stop.' She whipped around to face him. 'Just stop. I'm not your darlin', 'N I'm sure as hell not your sweetheart.' She hissed and continued walking. The words hurt her as much as they must've hurt him. God, the walk to her house felt never ending.

'I just– I care for you sweeth–' He stopped, footsteps no longer sounding behind her. '. . .'N I love your father too. I've known him for most of my life. Feeling this way 'bout ya' doesn't come for free.'

Too? He said "too" didn't he?

She turned around. 'Too?' Her knees felt weak, her mind muddled by conflicting thoughts of her father and the man in front of her. And he was quite a sight, the picture of a cowboy in fact. Putting weight on one leg, he held his belt, and his hat covered his face as he tilted it down in silent brooding. How she imagined all cowboys did.

He sighed. 'Well–' shoulders shrugging. 'What'ya expect, beautiful as you are. Inside 'n out.' He walked up to her. His hand reached for her face. She should back away. She knew she should, but her feet wouldn't move. The backs of his fingers stroked strands of hair from her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone, his touch gentler than any man before him.

He laid his forehead against hers. 'I love y–'

She kissed him. He could not utter those words. Not yet. This was not the time.

Electricity shocked her nervous system. She could feel his hunger as he cupped her face, deeping the kiss. Yet, his needy lips slowed themselves for her sake, her uncertainty.

She pulled free, gasping for breath as she had forgotten it was a necessity and grabbed his hand, leading him to the house. Eyes looking back at him, speaking more than words ever could. It was just the matter of interpreting them.

He stood leaning against her kitchen counter, observing her as she sauntered toward him. Dress billowing around her thighs. Was this really happening?

He reached for her, laying his hands at her waist and taking the fabric of her dress between his fingers, pulling her toward him. 'I really do, you know.'

Her hand reached up to comb through his hair. 'Save it.' She smiled, her other hand sliding over her dress, stopping at her waist where the bow that tied the dress together was. Slowly, as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She pulled on the string, letting it come undone, and her dress fell open.

Bucky made a sound between a gasp and a moan, barely daring to take his eyes from hers. 'I'm at your mercy, sweet girl. Tell me what to do.' He breathed, eager fingers waiting for her approval.

His words were setting butterflies to flight. Her free hand grabbed his, and led it between the fabric of her dress and her body. Laying it atop her breast. 'Touch me.' She whispered.

Shivers, shivers, and goosebumps spread in waves over her chest as his fingers came in contact with her soft flesh.

She advanced, and he obliged her request as his other hand ran down her side, snaking around her back and grabbing her ass to pull her closer against his chest.

'Please. . .' He pleaded. 'I need to feel you.' His hands squeezed her breast, producing a whimper from her lips. 'Taste you.' He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, lining her bottom lip with his tongue. 'Anything, anything you're willin' to give me.'

Her brows furrow in tortured pleasure. Waves of pressure inside her that had no outlet, nowhere to go except to her core and mind. Her thoughts were mere static at this point, all of them reduced to neurons.

'Take all of me. . . All at once.' She exhaled, the air that they exchanged with one another merged into one unisome breath.

A pained grunt. 'You sure?' He grabbed his hat to remove it.

She grabbed his hand, stopping. 'You better keep that hat on,' she warned, then nodded. 'And, im sure.' She looked into his eyes. 'Now. . . fuck. me.' She demanded.

With that, he grinned and spun her around, pressing her up against the counter. Hips colliding with the countertop in a hard thud, but she did not care. All she wanted was him, and for this short moment when they were together, truly together, her father could be damned.

His hands ran up the side of her thighs, hiking her skirt onto his wrist, and flipped it over her ass. She groaned in pain. 'Can't wait any longer, hurry up.'

'Easy girl. . ' He slowed her as he tugged her pretty lace panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her. 'Stunnin'. . '

Her mind fogged, she disappeared for a moment, not really thinking about what was happening until she heard his belt buckle and then, finally. She felt him.

His hand moved to her hip as the other aligned his tip with her entrance, and without any more thinking and delaying, he pushed inside.

A mix between a whimper and a moan pushed its way out of her lungs. 'Fuck, yes.'

Her hands braced against the countertop, protecting her hipbones against the hard surface as he began thrusting.

But it wasn't enough. 'C'mon cowboy, harder.' A moan and breath combined into one.

His hand slid up her back, unintentionally tickling her the entire way. He grabbed her hair and circled it around his fist, then held her steady as he pushed himself into her even rougher.

'Mmmh. .' She hummed. But she needed more. She'd waited so long for this that she'd be damned if there wouldn't be bruises to remember him by. 'You can do better. . Mhh- fuck.' She moaned, struggling to get her words out as he bent over her, his thrusts reaching even deeper. He leveled his head with hers, and bit into her shoulder. His blissfull muffled moans made right at her ear, and along with them came the hot puffs of breath and the dirty sounds of slapping skin. Everything scratched the nervous center in her brain, just right. 'Yeah. . . Like that, mhm. . Show me how much you, uh-huh. –need me.' She managed, her words stuttering and stumbling.

'Feels so good.' He groaned. 'My darlin' girl.'

She no longer protested. She was his, in every sense of the word. And she loved it

'Yours, just yours.' She breathed.

'Good girl.' He moaned, obviously approving of her recognition.

She could not take much more. '. . 'M close Buck.'

He nodded, his forehead resting against her shoulder. She could barely make out his nodding against her shoulder in response. He must be close, too.

'I need to see ya' girl– wanna see ya'. . . See ya' cum.'

She couldn't answer. She only moaned in approval. But it was enough for him. His swollen member had her walls clenching, sucking and squelching around his member. Pulling him closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled out of her, spun her around, and lifted her by the hips onto the counter. His strength would never, not turn her on. And without missing a beat, slammed back into her again. 'Fuck! Just like that cowboy.' She cried. Their lips meeting in needy, rushed movements as they both approached their climax. Knots tightening, pressure building, and pressure realising.

In blinding hot waves, pleasure coursed through her as her orgasm finally arrived. 'Oh, girl. .' he moaned, sounding close to a whimper as it was uttered against her lips and into her mouth. 'My good, good girl.'

Oh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so badly. But Bucky got there first, as he too came. Tears of joy and pleasure fell down his cheeks as powerful spurts of seed filled her core, and he collapsed to his knees. Throwing his arms around her hips, his head lulled into her lap.

'I love you.' He murmured, kissing her thighs in slow, sloppy kisses. Lovingly holding his arms tightly around her, afraid she'd disappear. He uttered, 'I love you.' Over and over again, between and during his kisses, it did not matter to him. He just needed to say it, and for her to hear it.

She watched him with awe, how could she never have known, or felt– not even seen a glimpse of the man before her, a man that worshipped her in this way. She ran her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and nape soothingly as she smiled. Heart filled to the brim, for him.

'I love you too, Buck.' She whispered. 'Love you terribly, I think have for a long time, cowboy.'

He looked up at her, his chin resting on her knees as she slumped back against the cabinets, both catching their breaths. 'You'll be the death of me, woman.' Another tear rolled down his cheek, but there was no sorrow. Only proof of powerful stimulation, along with long pent-up feelings and needs.

She jumped off of the counter. 'Need ya' once more, before you head back.'

He grabbed her wrist and kissed his way up her forearm from his place on the floor. 'Yes, ma'am.'

She laid an index finger under his chin, tilting his face upward so their eyes could meet. 'Good. . .' She lifted the hat from his head, and placed it on herself with a smile. '. . .'Cause I still gotta ride ya'.'

[midnightorchids]

Dick sat at the dinning room table, his case files scattered and his dinner cold. The room was quiet and fairly dim, his only light source was from a small lamp in the kitchen. He eyed the clock on the stove and then leaned back against his chair. The hard metal felt cool against his bare skin and he ran his hands across his face, frustrated.

There was a sudden upsurge of crimes in Bludhaven, all different MO’s, however, Dick couldn’t help but shake the feeling that there was something else going on. There was a connection there, he just didn’t know what it was yet.

Dick pulled his hands away from his face and went back to the file that laid in front of him. He read to himself silently, highlighting and circling important details, trying to find the missing link between the crimes.

It seemed as if hours had passed by, his body ached and his fingers felt sore, but he carried on with his research, desperate and determined.

“Dick, you’re still awake,” your gentle voice suddenly spoke up, pulling him out his trance. He finished reading his sentence before he looked up at you.

He stared at your heavy-eyed and sluggish state, he smiled at the sight of your messy hair. You looked breathtakingly beautiful to him.

“Yeah, I’m almost done though,” he said, yawning. You walked over to the dinning table, the pads of your feet softly tapping against the wooden floors, and you sat down on the chair next to him. He reached his hand out, and with just one swift move, pulled the chair closer to him. It scratched against the floor and you gasped at the sudden movement.

“You were too far,” he whined, while grabbing your hand. He placed a quick peck against your knuckles and you smiled sheepishly at his affection.

Dick was always physically affectionate. He needed to have his hands on you at all times, the small of your back, your waist, your shoulders, he just needed to hold you. You often thought it was his way of grounding himself, especially when he was overwhelmed or overly excited.

You pushed yourself closer to him and gently rested your head on his shoulder. You eyed the mess on the table and that’s when you noticed the neglected plate of food. Your heart dropped.

“Oh my god, you didn’t eat,” you exclaimed, moving your head away from him. You were quick to get up, ready to reheat the meal for him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could leave.

“Sit,” he said and you did.

“But-”

“It’s okay, I’m not hungry,” the worried look in your eyes pulled at his heart strings, and he spoke up again, “I’ll have a big breakfast in the morning.”

“Promise,” you asked, holding out your pinky. You wanted to ask him to eat right then and there, but you knew it was no use. He was stubborn and worked up over the case files, food was the last thing on his mind.

“Promise,” Dick said, connecting his own pinky with yours, he placed a quick kiss against your lips to seal the deal.

“Will you come to bed soon,” you asked and he nodded in response. “Okay, I’ll wait until you’re ready then.” Dick smiled with his heart full and his eyes heavy.

Dick was loved by many, adored even, but no one made him feel the way that you did. No one cared for him like you did.

“Alright, let’s go to sleep now,” he said abruptly, closing his pen with its cap. He stared at the mess of papers on the table and decided that it was a problem for the morning.

“But I thought you had more work to do” you questioned. He didn’t answer and instead lifted you in his arms, the action caught you off gaurd. It was always likes this with him, he was unpredictable, but comforting. You knew you were always safe with him.

You placed your arms around his shoulders and he held you bridal style up the stairs. You laughed at his antics while ruffling his messy brunette locks. He grinned and repeatedly kissed your cheek, enticing more giggles from you.

“Let’s get my baby back to bed,” he said softly before kissing your cheek one last time. Dick opened the bedroom door with his foot and placed you gently against the pale blue sheets.

He walked over to his side of the bed and stretched before laying down next to you. Once he got comfortable, you moved closer and placed your head on his bare chest. Your fingers instinctively wrapped themselves on to the small locket around his neck. He wore your initials. That too, with pride.

You traced the charm with your index finger and Dick let out a deep, exasperated sigh. He ran his hands through your hair. His fingers grazed your scalp and you hummed delightfully.

The moment was intimate and calming. It made your body feel limp with an overwhelming amount of comfort and it slowly lulled you to sleep.

Once Dick felt your soft, rhythmic breathing, he kissed your forehead before muttering a small “goodnight, doll,” and then, he finally let himself get the well needed rest.