#should i actually put this one in the public tags and not just mine?

[lastthroes]

this was something noticed by a few others, but i don't think it ever reached tumblr

a certain someone (higuchi yoshito, a tales director) has been vaguely hinting at something at least since vesperia's anniversary, by making a tweet referencing what seemed to be yuri's cameo outfit of asch. at the time, you could also read on his bio「相変わら色々仕込み中。聖なる焔の燃えカスがやらなければいけないこと。」which also referenced asch's position in the story, with luke in opposition being called in the ancient language "the light of the sacred flame"

he updated the bio again and now it reads 「色々仕込み中。生きてゆく意味など超えた場所。」aka "various things are getting ready. a place past the meaning of life", which is also part of the anime ed's lyrics

i disregarded it as something random initially, but after yesterday's events maybe it's no mere coincidence... remaster incoming? something else?

it'd be so nice if abyss got the p3r treatment. won't happen, but a man can dream

[bennyden]

User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism. 

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it. 

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here. 

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately. 

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now. 

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did. 

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping. 

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave. 

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us. 

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from. 

Thanks for reading.

[negans-lucille-tblr]

The Fan | Jensen x Reader | Oneshot

Summary: Y/N has an unhealthy obsession with a man with a filthy mouth and an oral fixation he’s hell bent on ruining her life with. 

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Tags: audio porn, porn AU, dirty talking, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation, oral fixation, oral sex galore, use of sex toy, masturbation, public masturbation, Jensen has a filthy filthy mouth in this one, it might make you feral be warned…

WC: ± 4K

A/Ns: I shouldn’t be trusted to write porn when I’m feeling feral because this is absolute filth and I just wanna thank Laura for commissioning it and sending me further down my crazed rabbit hole. <3

Want your own commission? Find out more here!

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

“Oh fuck, baby girl, you take Daddy’s cock so fucking well in that tight little cunt, don’t you?” he coos as your whole body starts to break out into a light sweat. “Best damn pussy I’ve ever fucking had, sweetheart.” 

You whine, your back arching off the bed, your head fuzzy with your impending orgasm as your eyes flutter closed and you try to stave it off just a little while longer. 

“Look at you, so fucking perfect, you were made for me, made for my cock inside you. Daddy’s perfect little slut,” he growls, gasping for breath at the end of his sentence, moaning deep from his chest. “Tell me what you are, I wanna hear you say it.” 

“I’m your perfect little whore, Daddy,” you whine out, your fingers working your clit to the very edge of sweet release.

“That’s fucking right you are, baby, feel so fucking good on my cock, fuck, making Daddy wanna fucking cum. Do you want that? Hm? Do you want Daddy’s cum deep in that pussy? Maybe I should put your panties back on you and send you out. Let you walk around the store with my cum dripping down your thighs. Oh you like the fucking sound of that, don’t you?” he chuckles darkly, and you gasp for air, the feeling of the cock pistoning in and out of you almost too much to bear anymore. 

“You’re not going to cum again are you?” he asks. “You know how I feel about you cumming when my mouth isn’t down there to taste it. Do you need my tongue in that cunt again, baby girl? Or are you still craving Daddy’s cock? Look at you, so fucking desperate you don’t even know what you want anymore, you just want to be used, don’t you? You just want Daddy to use that fucking cunt over and over until I’m through with it. I’ve fucking got you, baby girl, you’re mine and everyone fucking knows it. I’ve marked you up good, you wanna see your skin, fucking covered in my claim.” 

You can’t take anymore, and you cum hard, screaming out in pure ecstasy as your climax washes over every inch of you, and you’re left gasping for air, squirming on the edge of over-stimulation as the cock continues to piston in and out of you at the steady pace you’d set it at. 

Your eyes flutter open and you’re brought back to the room, your earbud falling out, letting the natural ambience of your bedroom fill your eyes, the very faint sound of the actor’s voice still bleeding through the forgotten earpiece. Your body is still trembling, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you as you finally reach for the dial beside you and slow the machine down until it’s come to a stop, and you carefully remove the toy from inside you and whimper at the loss of contact, even if you are thoroughly done. You reach for your phone to pause the audio, realising there’s still ten minutes left. You never can make it to the end of one of his audios. That man is far too good at what he does, and it’s a crying shame he doesn’t do videos, though you realise that audio gets you off far better than visual does nowadays. You don’t even think you’d care what the guy looks like, if he can make you cum that hard and that many times with just his words, he could look however he wants and you’d still fuck him. 

Somehow, the guy seems to be all your biggest fantasies wrapped up in one dirty mouthed human, and you’re actually starting to worry about your real dating life, given you’re never going to find a guy that will ever come close to your favourite audio actor, you’re sure of it. Still, it doesn’t stop you from trying, even if your nights do end like tonight; alone and getting yourself off with your best investments yet; your fuck machine and Patreon subscription to ‘Dean Winchester’.  You hadn’t even needed a machine before Dean, and you actually had more real life sex with real life men, but over time you ended up settling for mediocre one night stands less and less, rathering going home to Dean, instead. You know your obsession is borderline unhealthy at this stage, but if the guy would stop putting out the best audios you’ve ever heard, then maybe you’d stand a chance. 

*

Work is so mind-numbingly boring, you find yourself watching the clock on the wall and praying that the last twenty minutes would hurry up, so you can get out of the office for the weekend. With the weekend upcoming, you don’t have time to start a new project, but you finished your last one two hours ago, and have been desperately trying to seem busy for your boss’s sake since then. You sigh and twist yourself left to right in your office chair, and practically leap at your phone the second it goes off next to you. Finally, something to do. 

You’re quick to glance around you when you realise that the notification is from Patreon, and you open it cautiously to see Dean has posted a new audio. It’s rare for him to post something mid afternoon on a Friday, and you read the title and the audio information, eager to find out what your Friday night is going to entail. 

Daddy can’t get enough of eating that sweet pussy (with toys)

Contains: Excessive oral sex, daddy kink, use of toys, praise, degradation, slight humiliation, mocking for multiple orgasms, soft dom, aftercare 

You look around the office, feeling your pussy getting uncomfortably wet already, and rub your thighs together, reaching into your purse and grabbing your headphones, before quickly making your way towards the bathroom. You would normally at least try to wait the extra hour, and for  the comfort of your own home, but this one sounds too good to wait. You just want a little glimpse; at least that’s what you tell yourself as you lock yourself into a bathroom stall and eagerly put an earbud in, making sure your phone is definitely connected to it before you turn the volume up a little. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Dean hums through the headphone, and instantly the wetness doubles.

You shift uncomfortably in your heels, and take a seat on the closed toilet lid, hitching your dress up enough to get to your soaked panties. You can just have a little play, it’s not like you’re busy, and no one will know what you’re doing in here. 

“Have you missed me? Aw, I can tell,” he coos, “have you been waiting for me all day? I’ve had a long week, and I was thinking I could use some stress relief,” he explains. “I’ve been thinking about you since I left you naked in bed this morning, been thinking about that sweet little pussy, about how good you taste. My cock has been hard all fucking day just thinking about tasting you when I got home.” 

You try your best not to moan out loud, your fingers now pulling the ruined material of your panties to one side as you take a shuddered breath in and start to tease your swollen clit. 

“You don’t mind if I help myself, do you?” he asks, and then a low hum rumbles through him. “Fuck, let me take those panties off, wanna see that dripping little pussy properly. It’s gonna taste so fucking good, you always taste so fucking good, you’ve got Daddy addicted, d’y’know that?” 

You rush to remove your panties over your heels, wanting to keep up with the fantasy now playing in your mind’s eye, and you quickly stuff them into your blazer pocket. 

“Don’t worry about making dinner, I’ve got enough to feast on right here,” he chuckles lowly, and then the sound of his lips smacking over something fills the quiet, and he moans under his breath. “Tastes fucking good, baby girl,” he praises. “That pussy was made to be eaten, and look at it, practically dripping for me, such a naughty little slut, hm? You want a finger inside you?” 

Instantly you slide one finger inside your warm, wet cunt, and your eyes roll as you throw your head back. 

“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he laughs, “then why don’t you use the dildo I got you? It’s right here, I’ve got it, let me see if I can make it fit.” The sound of vibrations accompany Dean’s hums of approval, and you wish with everything in you that you were home right now, where you could reach for your own vibrator and slide it inside you like Dean’s doing in your fantasy right now. “Fuck, baby girl, you take it so well, does that feel good? It’ll feel better when my tongue is back on that clit.” 

“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath, pushing a second finger inside you in a desperate attempt to mimic the toy you’re imagining. 

“Don’t worry about me, baby, I’ve had a cockring wrapped around my cock all day, I’m gonna be fucking you for hours yet. Now you just lie back and let me take care of that sweet little cunt.”

The bathroom door opens outside of the stall, and you jump to remove your fingers, even though whoever has entered won’t see what you’re doing, you still don’t want to get caught out somehow.  The obscene noises of Dean ‘eating you out’ are still playing into your ear, and you rush to pause the audio in an attempt to calm yourself down a little, hearing the clicking of heels on tile as someone enters the stall next to you.

“Y/N?” you hear Amber call out. 

“Yeah?” you call back, your voice shaky and not trustworthy, right now.

“You coming to the bar with us?” Amber asks. 

You stand up and flush the toilet to complete your facade, heading out of the stall and quickly beginning to wash your own juices off of your fingers before Amber somehow notices. 

“Not tonight,” you insist, your mind very much on the remaining twenty three minutes of Dean’s new audio, and the date with your machine you’ve found yourself with suddenly. 

“C’mon, you’ve not been out in forever, plus, Sascha insists that this new bar has the hottest guys,” Amber explains as she also exits her stall and stands at the sink beside you, washing her own hands. 

“I gave up on men a long time ago,” you remind Amber with a chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon, I’m all for silicone friends, but you’ve gotta get a real dick at least once in a while, and girl for you, it’s been a while.” You laugh at her bluntness and shake your head. “You’re coming, even if I have to pay for your drinks all night,” Amber insists. 

You sigh and roll your eyes, before nodding reluctantly, guessing one drink won’t hurt if it gets Amber off your back. 

“Great,” Amber beams, reaching forward to undo the top button of your dress so your cleavage is far more on show than it was before. “There, let’s go.”

*

One drink has somehow turned into three, because every time you say you might leave, Amber is quick to buy you another cocktail, and you feel bad wasting her money by not drinking it first. You’re hyper aware of the fact your panties are still stuffed into your blazer pocket, and your pussy is completely bare and exposed under your dress, and the only thing you can fully focus on is the remainder of Dean’s audio you want to listen to. You really do have a problem, apparently. 

By the fourth drink, you offer to pay, feeling bad that Amber is footing your bill all night, and you guess you owe her one drink before you finally go home to your machine. You stand at the bar and shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you wait to be served, your mind running wild with all the ways Dean is going to fuck you tonight, and when the barman finally stands in front of you, you realise you’ve forgotten what Amber wanted. You guess your way through a list of a few different cocktails, figuring one of the girls will drink them even if Amber doesn’t, and as the barman moves away to make your long order, you hear a scoff beside you. 

You turn your head to look at the man, and are kind of taken for a moment because he’s pretty attractive. Sascha was right, the men at this place really are better looking than the rest of the bars around town. Maybe they have some weird lighting, or something. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs easily, and his voice shoots straight to your core. Jesus, has it really been that long since a hot guy has talked directly to you? “It’s just I’ve been stood here for over five minutes, and that bar man is only serving the hot girls,” he explains. 

Your brain takes a second to process what he’s saying, and then you scoff and shake your head. 

“Clearly not, he just served me,” you counter. 

“I stand by what I said,” the stranger insists, after his green eyes have raked up and down your body a couple of times. Is this guy actually flirting with you? You find yourself staring for a moment. There’s something very familiar about him, but you’re fairly sure you’d remember ever meeting a guy this attractive. 

“Do I know you?” you ask him, frowning. 

His green eyes light up and he laughs softly, shaking his head. 

“Urm… don’t think so,” he finally offers, shaking his head. But his hesitance only confuses you more. 

“Are you sure? I swear I know you somehow,” you insist. 

The guy begins to blush, and he clears his throat before looking around himself. 

“Well, what if I said my name is… Dean,” he slowly offers. 

Your eyes widen immediately, and you’re not sure if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kiss the man. His voice that’s what you know, that’s what’s so familiar, and that’s why you’re having this kind of reaction to just talking to some guy. So you’re not that desperate, after all… or maybe you are, depending how you look at it. You would’ve never placed him as Dean Winchester, no matter how intimately you know his voice, because you never would’ve actually expected him to be more attractive than the picture you’d painted in your head. And you never would’ve expected to bump into him at a bar in town of all places. 

But then the realisation hits you fully. If this guy is Dean Winchester then he knows that you listen to his stuff, and he knows that you listen enough to recoginise him. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, your cheeks burning. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed, I’m so sorry,” you fumble to apologise, but Dean just laughs and shakes his head. 

“Why are you sorry? I love meeting fans.” 

The word fan only makes your skin crawl more, he’s going to think you’re some psycho, some desperate woman that needs audio porn to get her kicks. 

“Oh god,” you groan, now feeling your skin crawling in shame. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, really,” he reassures you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. “Honestly, I’m flattered a girl like you listens to me.” 

“Oh sure,” you scoff, not believing him for one second. You want to tell him you don’t really listen to his stuff that much, but then you realise that might be insulting, and you don’t want to tell him you’re as big a fan as you are, or you’ll just look even more pathetic to him. “Listen, I’ll leave you alone,” you conclude. 

“Oh,” he replies simply, before licking his lips and nodding his head. “Yeah, sure, if that’s what you want.” 

You can’t help but feel like you’ve insulted him somehow, and you swallow hard, rushing to explain. “I don’t wanna seem like some creepy fan,” you excuse. 

“Sweetheart, I’m the one that hit on you,” he laughs. 

Your eyes only widen further, “you were hitting on me?” 

“Yeah, well… I thought I was… I did call you hot, didn’t I?” 

“I guess,” you agree, now feeling embarrassed for a whole new reason. The guy that has given you more orgasms than all the other men in your sexual history put together has hit on you. “I’m sorry, I just always assumed that a guy like you would be married, or at least dating someone.” 

“Nah, my work is just as much for my benefit as it is yours, trust me,” he laughs softly. “So, can I at least buy you a drink, even if it’s just to thank you for liking my work?” 

*

“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this,” you confess, already drunkenly laughing behind your hand as you look over at him. 

Dean – or Jensen, you’ve now been told his real name is – seems to wait patiently for your confession, and in the two or so hours you’ve been sitting together drinking and getting to know each other, you somehow feel like you’ve known him for years. Maybe that’s because of the porn, but either way, you’re actually about to say this out loud. 

“The audio that you released today?” you prompt, and a smirk grows over Jensen’s plump lips.

“Yeah…” he prompts. 

“Well, I didn’t get to finish it, but let’s just say I started it in work… in a bathroom stall… and I’m still a mess. I was dying to get home to finish it.” Your confession doesn’t leave you as embarrassed as you thought it would, not when Jensen only smirks harder, and then bites his bottom lip as his green eyes look around the bar. 

“Well… why don’t I just… show you what the rest was like?” he asks, blinking at you. 

“What?” you ask, feeling yourself beginning to sober up at just the very thought of what Jensen’s implying. 

“What if we… y’know, re-enacted it?” 

*

“So how far did you get?” Jensen asks, breathing against your neck.

You crane it, pushing your head back further into your pillow as you moan softly, dragging your nails through the soft hair on the nape of his neck. 

“Not very, you’d just pulled out a vibrator,” you explain breathlessly, your heart thudding in your chest. If this man is this good at kissing, you’re not sure you’ll survive the rest of it. And you already know what a filthy mouth he’s got from the dirty talking. And from talking to him tonight, you were more than excited to find out that his audios are a true reflection of his own kinks.

“Do you have one?” Jensen prompts, and you blindly reach under your bed for the box that holds your toys, throwing the lid off carelessly and wrapping your hand around your favourite vibrating silicone friend. 

You produce it in front of you, stopping Jensen in his tracks as he smirks, taking it from you and throwing it to the bed next to you both. 

“I don’t have a cock ring though,” you add with your own smirk, and Jensen chuckles lowly. 

“Don’t worry, I’m covered,” he tells you smugly, taking your hand and pushing it under his boxers. Your hand meets soft, warm velvety skin, and as it gets a little lower, you feel the rubber ring at the very base of his swollen cock. 

“Do you always go to bars wearing one of those?” you sass, wrapping your fingers around his erection and growing pleasantly surprised at the thickness. 

“I had it on for the audio this morning, y’know, for authenticity, and figured I’d leave it on because I was so horny. Meeting you was just the bonus,” he explains. 

“What else do you do for authenticity?” you tease, gasping when Jensen’s teeth sink into the delicate skin on your neck. “Do you…” you struggle to regain your composure, grinding your core up against his bare thigh, your slick coating his skin. “Do you actually eat pussy?” you finally manage to ask. 

“Unfortunately not. It’s been a while since I got to eat a pussy… don’t mind if I fill up on you, do you, baby girl?” 

“No, Daddy,” you whimper, not even ashamed at how quickly you submit to him. 

“Oh, someone’s been listening to my work… such a good little whore, f’me, aren’t you? Bet you taste fucking delicious.” 

Suddenly, Jensen’s face is gone, and you feel his hands grab the backs of your thighs and push your legs backwards, spreading you open. He doesn’t waste any time dining on your pussy, making sounds far more obscene then the audios could ever capture, and just when you thought this man couldn’t get you off any harder, you’ve finally felt his tongue for real, the stubble on his face rub along your delicate skin, you’ve finally felt exactly what this man can do to you. 

Your fingers comb through the hair on the top of his head, and Jensen only ever pauses to bite and suck on the flesh at the insides of your thighs, before returning to licking and sucking your pussy like a starved man. Your back arches into his touch, and you nearly lose your mind when you see him blindly reach for the dildo you’d given him, turning it on to a low rumble as he presses the tip to your entrance. 

“So fucking tight, baby girl, you like having something inside you when I eat that pussy, don’t you?” he growls, his voice slightly deeper and far more reminiscent of his “Dean” persona. 

You moan loudly, bucking your hips desperately as he begins to fuck you with your vibrator, and you find yourself torn between wanting his mouth back on your pussy, and wanting his cock replacing your toy. Amber’s right, sometimes you just need the real thing. Especially when the real thing is as tempting as Jensen’s. 

“Fuck, Daddy, feels so good, please don’t stop,” you beg, feeling his mouth back on your cunt in an instant, and he laps at your arousal and moans loudly around your clit when he sucks it between his lips. “Holy fuck,” you shout, staring up at the ceiling, not sure you’re even going to survive this. 

Jensen’s rutting against your mattress, but seems to be in no rush to finish eating you out any time soon, and your thighs tremble either side of his head as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface. 

“That’s it baby,” Jensen pauses for a brief second to say. “Cum f’me,” he growls. “Cum on Daddy’s tongue, c’mon, perfect little cunt, tastes so sweet, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he chuckles, looking up grinning at you like the devil. 

“Yes,” you whine, encouraging his mouth back on your clit as he now fucks your vibrator in and out of you so much better than the machine has ever managed to. 

Jensen doesn’t stop to talk again, he just hums and moans against your skin until you’re cumming hard and fast on the toy, and he’s quickly removing it to lap at your juices that are practically flooding out of you. 

As always when you listen to his work, your first orgasm does little to stave off the arousal he’s elicited from you, but luckily, it seems Jensen’s not done with you, because he licks his lips clean and hums, rising back to his knees between your legs. He begins stroking his cock in his hand, his eyes several shades darker as he looks down at you. 

“So,” he smirks, guiding the tip of his cock towards your soppy entrance, only teasing it with his tip before tapping the heavy length on your sensitive clit, making you squirm. “Which of my audios should we re-enact next?” he asks. 

“Any one that requires that inside me,” you reply, watching Jensen chuckle under his breath. 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Want your own commission? Find out more here!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for bitching about fics I dislike on my blog?

as a foreword, this is kind of a non-issue and no one's ever told me to stop, but I'm curious what other people think of fandom etiquette.

the fandom: a fairly small one. 2.4k fics on ao3 small. I recognize most people posting in its tumblr tag small. if I tell you the name of the source you'd almost definitely be able to find me small.

the source: pornographic, which means everyone involved is or should be an adult. it's BL with a switch MC, but the fandom overwhelmingly prefers bottom MC/top LIs (love interests), to the point where I've had people be astonishingly rude to me because my favorite character is a bottom LI and some of my friends have been outright harassed for the same. I used to not care about sex positions in the slightest, but now when I see bottom MC fanworks I can't help but remember how poorly I was treated.

the fics: wildly and inexplicably popular, even though they are, frankly, poorly written. it's eternal bottom MC turned up to 11, complete with copious amounts of OOCness in order to turn every ship into the worst ye olde yaoi gender roles dynamic you can imagine. it's things like MC, canonically a 23yo plank of a dudeguy, being written as a big titted milf in his 40s (which is made more confusing by the fact that one of the LIs is already a big titted milf). it's also things like the MC being written as disliking sex and having to be coerced into it when one of the most charming things about him is that he's a hilarious sex pest, or writing the LIs sexually harassing the MC when they really would never do that. I've likened it to replacing the characters with OCs that share the same name and my friends have agreed with me. I'm honestly convinced that the author and his readers don't actually like any of the characters if they feel the need to change everyone so thoroughly.

why I might be an asshole: it's assholish to hate on free fanworks, and I've bitched about these fics on my public tumblr blog. the fandom is small enough that there's a non-zero chance of it getting back to the author and a reasonable chance that fans of the fics have seen my bitching. I'm probably projecting the hostility I've received onto someone who's done absolutely nothing to me, and I am absolutely just straight up jealous that their fics get better stats than mine. I may also be being an asshole to myself, because being critical of other people's fics has made my hypercritical of my own.

why I don't think I'm an asshole: I think everyone has the right to be bad at things, but I also think everyone has the right to be a little hater. I don't put the fandom tag on these posts; they stay on my blog and my blog alone, and if later on I feel like I was unfairly vitriolic I'll delete the posts. I only post on tumblr because I'm certain the author in question only uses twitter, which dramatically lowers the odds of him stumbling across my posts. the fics are so popular that it's definitely possible that their fans would see my posts, but I think it's unlikely that they'd bother looking at my blog because 99% of my posts are about one of the bottom LIs. I have never and would never leave comments on the fics themselves, and I generally try to keep the bitchy posts to a minimum; it's far from a constant thing.

tl;dr - I publicly bitch about fics that (in my opinion) are poorly written and extremely OOC, under the assumption that it's unlikely the author would ever see it. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[nephyria]

Hi, genuine question here.

This witch game kickstarter. Putting aside the whole "inspired by HP" thing (not because it is not bad, this is a fair complaint, but because it became a known fact a fair bit into the reblog chain), but why does everyone act like it _must_ have something to do with Disco Elysium? Simply due to the "witch looks for a cat" part like in the Alps witch tweet? Which seems like a trope-y coincidence, if anything? Is it just a joke?

Hi I honestly thought it was related bc I was having a nervous breakdown due to Having The Entire Country’s Public Funding Cut By A Tyrant King, Including Mine, so I saw that, screenshotted it, thought “I need to nap before I do something stupid to myself” & then I napped. and Well. WELL. I MADE A POINT NOT TO TAG IT. I MADE A POINT TO NEVER EVEN SAY THE PHRASE!!! THOUGHT IT WAS HIDDEN FROM SEARCH. MY LUCK IS IN SHAMBLES.

TL;DR - it IS just a coincidence ❤️ the MCs just looked similar ❤️ the phrase “witch looking for her cat in the alps” is no longer a cozy game trope to the internet, but a Memetic Concept ❤️ she’s a stand-in for people who don’t like Dark Or Complex Content, but their media illiteracy keeps them from making Cozy derivatives or comparisons that Work

To answer the 1st half of your question :) it’s bc the Infamous Tweet timeline (2020) and the Potential Game Development Timeline (2023-2025, so 2-ish years of development, initially I thought it was from late-2020-2025) lined up very suspiciously, and the potential main characters looked uncannily similar at a glance, just tweaked enough for the copyright not to get stripped off like a sheet. And like. It is indeed a Young Witch in the not-Alps Looking For Her (presumably dead) mom’s Cat. It’s very generic and it’s a platformer not a narrative RPG with a unique skill system, but that seems exactly like the kind of thing the cozy games genre would do. because it’s more marketable to kids and stuff that way. But the dev team tripped over the trope on their own, they didn’t base it on the tweet.

Which leads to THE SECOND PART. OF YOUR QUESTION.

Young Witch Looking For Her (Neighbor’s) Cat In The Alps is basically a meme phrase around the internet at this point. It’s used when someone who doesn’t understand why a Boring Game in a Setting Full Of Serious Conflict would do well, and tries to take a central element that they liked from the game and make it Cozy™. This ends up completely missing the central point of the original thing, its genre, its audience, the gameplay, and the interplay between all those things, and then is upset bc nobody liked their idea, which is often attributed (or misattributed) to misogyny in the games/media sphere. it’s also used when people watch/play/read a piece of media, get squicked out by the primary draw of that media, and go “hey I’ll just recommend this other, cozier option” that ends up being nothing at all like the original media.

Often times it’s presumed that a female audience doesn’t want a gritty, emotionally fraught story with stakes and consequences. or complexity. Or fighting. as I understand it Mattel used this strat massively with Transformers and Barbie.

so as an example of that 2nd one. Someone might say “I liked the gameplay of Red Dead Redemption 2, but I didn’t like playing as a problematic white man at the end of the Wild West Era who kills people for money, and has to grapple with the horrible and appalling things that people did in that time” and you’re like oh yeah that’s a fair criticism. I too would not enjoy that storyline, particularly if I were marginalized in similar ways that—“It should be like Barbie Horse Adventure instead,” they say. And you say Beg Pardon?

and they say, “Yeah it should be like if Barbie Horse Adventure got remade in the modern era with RDR2-style mechanics. And you win races and ribbons. Actually I’ll be recommending anyone who liked RDR2, but not that Shitty Stuff, Barbie Horse Adventure or games like it instead.” So you didn’t like the public server stuff either? “No I don’t like robbing people or PVP :( but you should be able to play with friends :)” I. How are they at all similar, you wonder. “Oh my god. not every main character has to be a man.”

Like yeah. Maybe a modern Barbie Horse Adventure would be cool. I think kids would like it. I would never in a million years compare it with RDR2. Until now I guess.

Mentioning it to friends, you wouldn’t say “do you think consumer misogyny and media illiteracy, combined with conflict avoidance and overall societal stress, is creating a snake that eats its own tail? Haha jokes right?”

You would say. “So I had an idea for a game. It’s like RDR2, but what if. instead of playing another white guy doing crimes for money. it’s about a Young Witch In The Alps Looking For Her Neighbor’s Cat.”

[answer2jeff]

fixer-upper. // lip gallagher

lip x biker-girl!OC

warnings : public sex, oral (m!receiving), praise kink, light to rough hair-pulling, unestablished relationship, intense and obvious flirting, porn with plot and detail, mentions of smoking (tobacco), cursing, OC is just as full of herself as Lip, knows she's a bitch, kinda has a weird sense of possessiveness over him?? clunky and overly detailed writing with a journaling/diary style.

authors note : trying something a little different! using the first person POV with an original character. first time writing this way—still getting the hang of it <3 this is REALLY long...sorry.

song : beauty school.

disclaimer : you can picture the OC however you like! her name is really just used for aesthetic purposes. there isn't much description on her appearance other than the fact that her hair is long enough to put it in a ponytail. enjoy!

Great. Fucking great.

One of my tires is punctured. The visor in my helmet is cracked. My elbows are etched with surface level scratches and dried blood. And the engine cover of my bike has finally snapped off. I had it coming. It was an old piece of rusty junk from my cousins garage sale from 2012, anyway. But it had charm. I knew I was gonna miss that bike for the good couple of hours, possibly days, I would reluctantly end up leaving it in a repair shop down the street from my apartment.

I can hear the squelch of skin, the seal between my hot breath and sweaty skin breaking as lift my helmet from my head. I hope to feel a rush of cool air, but the humidity tells me to go fuck myself. I'm pulled over onto the curb. I can't totally remember how I got there; being in the middle of the street on a scorching summer day wearing denim shorts that chafe up my inner thighs and rub my skin until it is raw and red and unbearably itchy, was not my vision for today. My handlebars are loose. That would explain it.

If I just take it to Born Free Cycles, leave it overnight, and come back in the morning, I can act like this whole thing never happened, and I'm not horribly irresponsible.

40th West View Ave.

Oh. I'm close actually. Barely a block away. I should go there now. I can call Mikey and have him drop me and the bike off at the garage. I'll see that kid with the grown out buzz-cut and black motor grease on his knuckles that somehow always transfers and blots on his face. Specifically on his strong jaw and right before the peak of his hairline. I wonder if he notices. Maybe he doesn't clean it off because it gives him edge that he doesn't need. Like the nickname on his name tag on a black uniform hadn't given his thirst for trouble away already. And the circles under his eyes are almost the same shade of smudged charcoal grey.

I wonder if he notices.

—

"So the engine cover popped? Just—" he shrugs, looking up at me as if I can't understand him "clean off?"

The sunlight bleeds in through the open garage door. It shines behind Lip, casting a shadow that makes his face hard to see perfectly. But I know the look he's conveying. His eyebrows are raised but drawn slightly closer together, his teeth are gnawing at the inside of his cheek so he can stifle a smile and the laugh that will follow soon after, and his blinks remain slow. I try not to smile too. But I fail.

I've only been here about 3 times, really. The first time was to get handlebar grips from Eddie. That was when I saw Lip. I chose not to make any kind of move, but it ate at my insides until the second time. That time was with Mikey. I was preoccupied with the blue-eyed kid, propped up on a workbench and throwing mindless flirty implications at him while he took long drags from a cigarette, to remember why Mikey was even doing there and why he dragged me along with him. His laugh, the playful eye-roll after I complimented his sweat-laden blonde curls weighed down by heat humidity, told me he was on board.

But I wasn't done.

I knew this time I'd pounce for what was mine.

"Yeah," I breathe out, crossing my arms and peering down at him, "And I mighta' been redlining the RPM a little too much. Probably fried the fucking thing."

Lip nods, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. He beckons his hand toward himself, telling me to kneel down beside him to inspect the bike. "This things kinda old, huh?" He teases, turning his head to me and finally letting a real smile break. It warms something in me. I shrug. He glances at my white tank-top, covered in black stains of dirt and oil.

"It's not great, no. It's a piece of shit. But it's cute!" I play along with him, taking the hairband on my wrist and twisting my hair into a high ponytail. Lip huffs though his nose, shaking his head and laughing again.

The next couple of minutes are filled with him telling me things I already know. Things I was too exhausted to manage on my own, defeating the whole purpose of why I was here. Fuck the bike. I know what's wrong with the bike. I know it's an old piece of junk and it's barely salvageable. You should know why I'm here. And maybe you do. But you should do something about it.

Lip has this way of speaking to me that feels ridiculously sweet and overly 'cool.' I know it's just his cadence and his cockiness, but I like it. I like that he thinks it makes me swoon. Partially because he's right, but mostly because I've mastered hiding it. He doesn't see my heart pound or the rising heat in my abdomen when he cracks his knuckles or puts a hand on my shoulder and let's it travel down to the small of my back when I crouch down beside him to look at another motorcycle he's trying to save. I'm almost certain he convinces himself that my gestures are nothing more than a meaningless flirt. I simply find him attractive, as does everyone. Nothing more.

But he's got it all wrong.

He knows my intentions somewhat well enough to the point where he can't not flirt back, though. He knows I haven't stopped him from letting his eyes travel from mine to my lips whenever I speak. He likes that I let him light my cigarettes for me. But he doesn't know this isn't just for fun. I'm so hyper-aware that it isn't out of the kindness of his heart. And neither are his compliments and lame jokes he makes to impress me. He treats my attraction to him as fact, but my genuine interest as a possibility.

Again, he's wrong.

I can't wrap my head around how he could reciprocate my efforts without ever pushing the envelope and asking to exchange numbers, or if I had a boyfriend, or maybe he had one of his own. No, no. He'd tell me if he had a girlfriend. He is, above all else, loyal.

Lip's what I want. I meant when I said his hair looked nice. I meant when I gave him a 20-dollar gratuity and a peck on his cheek just for giving me a repair cost estimate on my shattered headlight. I smile any time he says my name: Maeve.

Hey Maeve, back so soon, huh?

Hand me that box, Maeve.

Y'alright, Maeve?

Yo, Maeve, wanna bum one?

Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

—

"Think you'll be back tomorrow to pick it up? No rush, though. I can keep it 'till you're ready," Lip asks me, leaning against the wooden workbench littered with microfiber towels and tools. His swell arms are crossed to his chest. I nod, coating my fingertips with a thin film of spin while I fish out some cash from my beat up faux leather wallet.

"A-huh. Thanks," I hand him 6 twenties before glancing at the opening of his button-down uniform.

The corner of my mouth lifts itself into a knowing smirk, my hand on my hip as I shift my weight to it, making my chest stick out and my spine bend correspondingly. My lips hang open a measly centimeter apart before I draw the bottom one between my teeth. I watch him sort through the cash, biting down harder on the flesh of my lip when he freezes.

"Looks like you're a good 15 short," he barely mumbles, looking up at me through his eyelashes. His brows narrow down to me again. I click my tongue coyly. I step closer to him, my hand, with fingernails painted black, pushing the cash in his palms down and his arms down with it.

"About that..." I pause, tilting my head with a look of naivety and not bothering to push away the strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail and over my eye. Instead, I wait and let Lip set the pile of cash down and draw the curtain of my hair open to reveal my face. My stomach twists on itself, and I can practically feel his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath in my own lungs.

I beg to whatever higher power lies above us in this garage that a kiss will work. Not that it usually doesn't, but my form isn't as confident as it typically would be. The guys I wrap around my finger aren't as driven as Lip is. And God, none of them are part of my tantalizing daydreams nearly as often as he is. I picture his rough hands exploring me, squeezing and rubbing over the valleys of my skin. I imagine his breath is hot with the taste of mint and cigarettes. Every part of me wants to know if my predictions are accurate. If he's the type to sink his teeth into my neck and shoulder blades just to apologize to the reddening skin with open-mouthed kisses. The anticipation kills me. It's enough to swallow me whole.

"...Maybe I can pay you back a different way?"

I barely whisper and Lip scoffs, glancing away from my gaze, scanning the area just for it to be completely empty. He comes back to me. His eyes go a little wider than before. Almost to say, 'oh shit, you're serious?' I stick my tongue between my teeth and tug on his uniform, feeling the fabric rub between my sweaty fingertips. My eyes watch Lip's adam's apple bob as he swallows a breath.

"Yeah?" He thumbs my bottom lip and pulls it down, his free hand traveling down to my hip and pulling me closer to him, "what were y'thinking, Maeve?"

"Mmmm," I hum while pressing my hand against his chest while the other cups his cheek, and I let the pad of my thumb graze over the grove of his defined cheekbones. "Dunno yet."

My teasing is much to Lip's dismay, but he handles it quite well. It's sobering to see a guy as seemingly self-involved and easily impressed play into my mind games. It only pushes me further, and he knows it. I crash my lips into his, my hands anchoring themselves on his shoulders for support. He sighs into me, a hand reaching down to hook a finger through the belt loop of my shorts and drag me closer to him. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into his mouth to let his tongue slip past my own. And he tastes just as I expected. Minty, smoky, and mine. I practically grind my self onto him in complete desperation, feeling him harden under me. Every roll of his hips threatens to send me over the edge. And fuck, his muffled groans of pleasure against my mouth that ring in my ears are hypnotic. But even with his sturdy, growing buldge forcing the fabric of my shorts to press roughly on my clit, I need this to last.

Blissfully and ever so slowly.

I finally pull away to catch my breath, the buck of our waists slowing down. My head feels fuzzy and heat rises in my cheeks when I open my eyes to see how flushed Lip's face is. Even the tips of his ears have turned a little red. I smile, giggling like a teenager who just kissed her crush in a closet at a house party as a dare. He laughs back in a way that asks 'what are we even doing?'

"Thought you had a boyfriend."

I pause, my eyebrows knitted. I try to think of who he could possibly be referring to.

Ah.

"Who? Mikey?" I try not to laugh, looking around to the imaginary audience to check if they're really hearing this nonsense too, "ew, no. He's like my brother."

Lip lets out a breath of relief he almost didn't realize he'd been holding. It surprises me. Probably a lot more than it should. But hey, for the other 3 times I've been here, I kept asking myself why his flirting was just as intense as mine, but he never asked for my number or made a true move on me. To think that my friend had been unintentionally cockblocking me with his ridiculous height and horrid American traditional tattoos all over his arms, and it wasn't because the guy had a girlfriend...it's almost funny.

"Oh," he replies, his eyebrows raising. Now both of his hands rest at my hips.

"What? Is that why you left me hangin' when I did this?" I press a kiss against his cheek, my palm rubbing over his shoulder to pull a chuckle out of him.

"I guess so, yeah. Just didn't want him to kill me for getting to close t'you," he kisses my cheek, smiling again.

"Geez. Mikey wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. He just...looks scary. Plus, nobody tells me what to do."

"Noted. Glad to hear that, actually."

"Mikey is—" I pause, biting the inside of my cheek "a sweet guy."

"Uh-huh."

"Too sweet. And I hate the aftershave he uses. He's—he's entirely too much."

"Mm."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," he shrugs, trying and failing to act clueless.

Fuck. He's fucking glad. He's glad I don't have a stupid-waste-of-my-time-cockblocking-boyfriend on my hip who's constantly watching my every move and stopping me from giving all of myself to Lip. Hell, I'm glad too. Very glad. With one swift movement, I take matters into my own hands again. I undo every last plastic button on his uniform, snaking down his chest and abdomen. I latch onto his neck, biting the skin and sucking a bruising hickey. He shivers beneath me and wraps his hand around my ponytail, huffing breathless chuckles and slowly getting more and more frustrated with my agonizingly slow, torturing pace for foreplay.

I bend my knees to begin my descend to the ground, kissing down his torso. My hands travel down his sides. Lip gently lets go of my hair to lean back into the workbench, never letting his head reel back so he can carefully watch me tenderly adhere to his needs while anchoring his hands behind him for support. I giggle to myself, relishing in the affect I have on him.

Shit. This is risky. Screw it. Pretty girl without a boyfriend who tips in 20 dollar bills and blowjobs? How could I say no? No part of me wants to back out, Lip's mind races, his grip tightening on the wooden slab as he clenches his jaw.

I wonder if he's nervous. Or maybe he's done this time and time again: fucking a girl right in this garage. Possibly bent over this very work bench. Those girls must've been so easy. I can bet on my life that they were never as fun, never as wet, never as needy as me. This would be different. I wouldn't give him everything he wanted and more that quickly. A girl deserves to have her fun. She deserves to watch the overly confident guy she's fancied for weeks, who continues to play hard to get, squirm and writhe with every slight of hand she gives him.

And that's exactly what I'm doing.

"Y'having fun down there?" Lip chastises me, chuckling lightly to himself as he tilts his head down to get a better look at my face.

My kisses stop right above the waistband of his jogger pants. I look up at him pleadingly through my lashes, my eyes big with lust and cunning seduction. I pull the middle of the waistband down just so I can drag my tongue across the exposed skin just centimeters away from his cock. The curls of his happy trail tickle my chin, but the full body shiver and the shaky exhale of "fuck," as he tries to keep his composure, makes it so worth it. He finally shuts his eyes, head reeling back. I lick my lips and smile, cupping his groin before he can even think about looking back down and feeling the blood rush to his cock again. His twitching dick underneath my palm sends me sitting on my heel, ready to slowly rock my hips down into it to fill my desperate need for friction. My cotton panties are definitely soaked.

I can't waste any more time.

I remove my hand from his crotch and quickly pull his pants and his boxers down with them. They pool at his ankles, and his cock strains hard and leaking sticky, crystal clear pre-cum from the thick and aching tip. My mouth nearly drops. I admire every vein, letting my hand wrap around the base of his cock once I've spit into it as makeshift lubricant. I'm so lost that I don't even register Lip peering down at me, swallowing impatiently.

"My, you're so worked up, Lip. And I haven't even started." I don't bother to look up at him as I rub my hand up and down his shaft, worried his pretty face will distract me. But I can picture him perfectly.

"Fuck you," he huffs through a struggled laugh, covering his mouth as he groans in pleasure at the feeling of my hand squeezing his cock every once and a while as I slowly pump him up and down.

"Later," I retort. I bite down on my bottom lip, looking up at him again for permission. He nods, almost as if he's able to read my mind. My eyes shut and my stomach flutters. Soft lips cover the head, swirling my tongue over the slit. His tip leaves my mouth with a loud pop, and I lick a bold stripe along the thickets vein I can find.

"Jesus, fuck, Maeve!" He writhes, his breath hitched in his throat by me hollowing out my cheeks and taking nearly 3/4 of his total length into my mouth. Moans of pure bliss at the feeling of his cock enveloped by the wet warmth of my mouth echo through the garage. I fear he's too loud, but I decide not to care. Not now.

My hand pumps the rest of his cock that I don't fit into my mouth at the moment, while my free hand reaches for his. My eyes remain closed and my sucking maintains a steady pace as I bob my head up and down his cock. I grab his hand and set it on the top of my head, but he hesitates.

"W—you sure, Maeve? I don't wanna hurt you," he swallows, accidentally bucking his hips into my mouth and running his unoccupied hand through his sweaty curls. I detach myself from him, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from the corner of my mouth and finally looking up at him.

"You won't," I take a deep breath, "I won't let you. I'll tell you if 's too much, kay?"

"Okay. Maybe just—" he clears his throat "tap my leg 3 times? And I'll...uh—I'll let go? Yeah?" He looks beautiful. Flushed, bare, and oh so needy for my touch. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He's so compliant, so understanding. But part of me knows that once I let him do this, it'll show me the side of him I've really been praying to see.

I nod, smiling contently and feeling myself blush when he twirls his fingers around my ponytail again. He bends over just the smallest bit to cup my chin and smile back. The pad of his thumb grazes over my skin before he lets go. I take it as my sign to go back, pressing my hands against either of his thighs and feeling clit jump with excitement when Lip tugs at my hair the moment I take his cock into my mouth again. I bob my head up and down, my eyes rolling back when his tip hits the back of my throat. Tears prick at my waterline as I struggle not to cough.

I grow even more desperate. My hand dives into my shorts and I slide two of my fingers inside of me, unfortunately never living up to the potential size and feeling of Lip's. The continuous ram into my gummy and tender spot causes me to fall apart, whining with his dick occupying the space in my mouth.

"Oh my God," Lip nearly whines, his grip tightening as he guides my head up and down his dick, but it's so gentle it never startles me, "so fuckin' good, baby. Jesus, fu—ah..keep doin' that. Yes, fuck.."

My tongue swishes over and under his cock in mind-numbing patterns, and I can't help but let little muffled moans escape my throat and vibrate against him. He almost can't contain himself: bucking his hips and practically fucking my throat. I do my best to cancel out the occasional gag so quickly he won't feel guilty and possibly stop.

Use me, I think.

Usually, I'd take the lead, never letting a head pusher take the role. But not this time. Lip's so pent up, so stressed with the complexities of his life. This is a kind gesture. One that involves tears of struggle spilling out of my eyes and streaming down ky cheeks. But fuck, I love it. It's filthy. It's nasty the way I nearly suck him dry. I can't remember the last time a blowjob was this fun.

"Such a good girl. Y'know that?" He looks down at me, biting his lip as his eyebrows knit in pleasure and desperate need to cum down my pretty little throat, "how'd you get so fuckin...so fuckin' good at this, baby? Shit—feels so good."

He babbles over and over again, and I'm taking strategic breaths through my nose and speeding the pace of my fingers as they thrust in and out of me so I don't stop him from releasing the way he absolutely deserves. Finally, he pulls my ponytail tighter than he ever has, warning me that he's about to cum, but by the time he tells me, it sends down my throat. He groans out, releasing my hair and going limp. I swallow the salty substance, blinking out the last few tears in my eyes and sliding my fingers out of me.

—

Lip: 1 message.

Hey. 11:47pm

Hey. Miss me already? 11:52pm

Something like that, yeah. 11:56pm

What's up 11:58pm

I get off early tomorrow. Just wondering if you wanted to come by the shop and hang out for a bit? 11:59pm

Sure. See you then. xoxo 12:03am.

—

current taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

[yuyu1024]

I missed you

Pairings: Yoongi (Suga) × y/n

Genre/tags: idol secret dating

Warning: language, making out, semi public sex, pet names, fluff [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.40k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Check pinned post for more ♥️

*******

He have been touring for a while. You wished you can accompany him and see the world with him but that's impossible. You have your own work and you can't risk people seeing you in every tour stop. It's for your own protection and also for his career. You don't want to ruin his career.

It maybe romantic to scream yo the whole wide world that he is your man and you both love each other so much. It's not always the best option.

But since it's been months since the last you saw him, you planned on going to one of his stop. You saved enough money and Vaction leave credits so you can stay for a week for him. Since he will be staying as well for work too.

----

Admiring the view from your balcony, you can't help but smile like a little kid while taking pictures of the sky, the buildings and everything you're seeing.



(Photo not mine. Ctto)

You got tense a little as hands snakes around your torso. "Having fun?" But the second you heard his voice, your body relaxes. You lean back, head on his shoulder and giving him access to kiss you on your neck. "I'm sorry, I'm a little late... we got caught in traffic on our way back."

"It's fine. I understand." Moving away from his embrace, you face him and admire how dashing he looks. "Your hair got longer..." you then tug his hair behind his ear.

"Well, you said you wanted to see me with longer hair so... I grew it out."

"Did I?"

"Yes, mentioned it before..."

"You really do pay attention to everything I say..." you giggle on how cute your boyfriend is. This makes you feel happy.

"It's because I love you..." he moves closer to you, making you walk back a little. Your lowerback now is leaning on the fence of the balcony. His face is just inches away from yours, "I missed you so much..." he say staring at your parted lips. "Wait.. You're wearing make up?"

You look away, a little embarassed. You're not the type to actually put make up all the time. Yoongi is used to seeing you barefaced since you two always meet in hiding. Either your apartment or his.

"Well, it's been so long since I've seen you... and... maybe... you've seen quite a few beautiful ladies around the world so..."

He snorts a laugh. He tries not to laugh but you can see how his shoulder is shaking trying to supress it.

"Yah!" You slap him by his shoulder, "what's so funny? Am I a joke to you now?"

"Oh, babe." He wraps you up in embrace, his hands, one at the back of your head and one at the back of your neck. His thumb lightly caressing you. "You know how much I love you... I don't care about other women. My eyes, heart, body and soul is just for you... my Y/n..."

You lock your arms around his torso. "I love you too... so much..." you nuzzles your face on his chest. "I missed you so bad... this have been the longest we were apart."

"I know..." he kisses the top of your head and then reaches for your chin to lift it up. "I've missed you to... and.." he pauses to kiss you. He does it with a very longing feeling. He is not rushing every move but he's very much leading the whole kiss. You can feel how he savours each lips to lips friction.

"Yoongi," you say as you lips parted from his, "I think we should get inside... we are exposed here..."

"Why? Don't you love to make out here? With this view?" His body is closer to yours. So close that both of your clothes are the only thing separating you both.

"I do..." You push your hair away from your face, "but don't you think... people might see us...?"

He leans down and begins kissing you on your neck then your exposed shoulder. You didn't realized he had already slipped the strap of your dress down.

"Yoongi..." you moan but you still try to stop him. "Babe..."

"We're on the 28th floor. We are facing the ocean... the other buildings are far away. They will not notice us..." he says quietly

He grabs both your hands by the wrist, throwing them around his neck for you to hold onto. He then takes one of your leg up around his hips. Pushes the skirt of your dress away, exposing your legs and giving him an easy access to your panties.

"Please...babe... allow me..." he runs his thumb over your already wet core. "I want to have you now... promise... I will be careful... if you're worried anyone would see us... I just..." your foreheard together, his eyes closed shut as he rub his thumb on you.

You didn't answer him yet. You want answer but your so indulged in the moment.

"Ah! Yes..." You hold on tight around his neck. You feel a sudden weakness on your body as he continues to rub your clit. "More... Yoongi... more..."

"Did you miss this?" He whispers to your ears. You nod. "How about this?" He pushes your panties to the side and slides one finger in.

"Fuck! Ah! Y-yes..." you cry. Your grip onto his shoulder like its life or death. "Please... so good!"

Yoongi slowly pushes another digit in you making you quiver with pleasure. "I love how you sound..." the rythm of his pushing in and out of you is making you go crazy.

"Please... I want you..." you says looking into his eyes. "I want... you..."

He picks you up like a bride. "Let's go inside. It's getting cold."

"I thought... you want to try do have sex here... for a change..."

"We can if you want to.. but I realized I don't want you to get sick. You get cold so easily..."

"Oh, okay."

"Plus, I don't think they are ready to hear us do this all night... maybe some other time. For now... all of your orgasm is mine to hear and enjoy."😈

[fairuzfan]

Your post about how many people are unknowingly falling for & spreading propaganda... yeah. I typed up a whole spiel of a comment on one of your posts the other day that I ended up deciding not to not actually post because it felt like detailing, but seriously. The amount of well meaning, genuinely anti-zionist people ignorantly sharing zionists' posts because they just don't pick up on the leading undertones is honestly more terrifying than than the amount of actual zionists in some ways.

I'm someone who was born into a doomsday cult, and seeing all these people falling for the exact same blatant (or so i thought lol) recruitment/manipulation tactics I've seen used by them my entire life has absolutely fucking terrifying. These are people who are actively trying to combat zionism, but I guess the general public is so uneducated about propaganda/cult tactics that what immediately reads as blatantly manipulative, misleading bullshit to me just doesn't even register as strange to most people. Not to be repetitive, but seriously: fucking terrifying.

There's so much focus on the way people/groups who want to manipulate you will use language of fear, but in this case especially, people need to realize they will almost always appeal to your compassion before they appeal to your fear.

It's all peace and love and happiness because that's what gets people in the door. You preach (or post) the mushy, happy, fun stuff that makes people feel good to draw them in, and you slowly start peppering in the ideas you actually want to lead them to believe later on once you've got them wanting to believe you.

This also has this added effect of helping the group or person's image. Even the people who you don't manage to draw in will have the impression of you as someone who runs their mouth 24/7 about how you're full of love and want the best for everyone, which is especially useful for when you inevitably want to frame yourself as the victim to demonize the people who will inevitably oppose you. If your first and only exposure to a person is seeing them calling for world peace and universal love, you are much more likely to be inclined to believe they (and by extension their cause) are the sympathetic, loving, peaceful good guys being unjustly targeted.

Sorry for rambling, but like... really. It won't always be something nefarious, of course--the vast majority of the the time, it won't be--but I think we would all be in a much better situation if people took it as a general rule of thumb that you should always be a little suspicious of overly vague talk about peace and love.

You're EXACTLY right. I really appreciate this message, because you put to words a lot of my inherent analysis of arguments and ideas. I like grew up with this rhetoric so it's easy to spot for me, but the way that people speak about "peace" as the overall goal when they're zionist is so blatant to me because there is no material change in the scenario they propose but rather a calmness where Palestinians are ignored.

And picking up on subtext of a lot of messages is something you have to have a muscle for kinda because of how subtle it is. The frightening part is, you're right, that the indoctrination part of zionism is the most harmful part because you appeal to their pathos — their fear, their sense of safety, etc — and you go on down the rabbit hole and slowly start being radicalized and pro-zionism or you might not even be pro-zionism 100% but enjoy... soft zionism as a mutual of mine put it once (if you read this and want to be tagged, lmk). Which soft zionism is the MAIN opinion in many liberal circles btw, its not an uncommon opinion.

I even remember once sharing a post by a zionist because i saw them talk about esims but when i went on their blog a few days later because something rubbed me the wrong way, I noticed their pinned and I was like "oh dam I gotta delete that other post" like that's how often this happens.

Idk, I try to combat this by putting sources or approaching from a standpoint of logical arguments rather than identity-based politics (although, sometimes i think there are some things that people who are a certain identity can be the only true experts on) so that I try to encourage actual engagement with ideas and walking them through thought processes rather than "I'm palestinian so just trust me."

Like even with my one fact checking list, idk if I succeeded but I wanted to emphasize that there are multiple factors you should consider when confronting ANY sort of information and should not blindly trust things. News sources have regularly burned or ignored Palestinians so I know a lot of us are really sensitive to these things, but I don't know! I hope people can engage with ideas more than just surface level thinking in general because it helps everyone when you actually interact with the point of view the other person is providing rather than just blindly trusting/distrusting people.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Scout's Honor

Day #1 - Prompt: Firsts | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex Acts, Language | POV: Goodie (Freak) | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Newly Gotten Together Steddie, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Touch Me While Your Bros Play Grand Theft Auto Super Nintendo, The Boys of Corroded Coffin Are Tired of Eddie's Horny Bullshit

This has a sister fic, Full Throttle, from Steve's POV. Either can be read standalone.

"It's my turn!" Gareth shouts, grabbing at the controller, and Goodie holds it up, as far as the cord will stretch, trying to keep it out of his grubby little hands. Laughing as he pushes and fights to get a hold of it.

It is his turn, but Goodie isn't about to cave to the little shit's demands that easily.

"Guys," Jeff warns, then adds, "just take mine," offering up his controller up to Gareth.

"But I want to be player one!" Gareth snaps, and Goodie just laughs. No fucking way. 

"Winner gets to be player one, and that's me," Goodie tells him, and Gareth whines about it, but he does take the second controller from Jeff's hands. 

Their first decent check came last week, and after divvying up and paying out all their debts, they had just enough left over to buy the brand new Super Nintendo. There was one left in the store, and if they pooled their money together, they could actually afford it.

So. The check is gone, long gone, they spent every damn dime, but it was fucking worth it, as they crowd around the TV in the cheap apartment they're all crammed into, playing Super Mario World. They've been taking turns, the four of them. Well, three now that Steve Harrington has shown up. Goodie thought it'd mean they had to give him a turn too, but instead Eddie gave up on playing with them, and is on the other couch, Steve all over Eddie, taking up all his attention.

Just because Eddie was the first of them to get into a relationship, doesn't mean the band should have to be subjected to this all the time. But they are, because Eddie and Steve are horny motherfuckers, the both of them.

It wasn't so bad before they all lived together, but now, torture. Pure and utter torture.

They've been trying to do the long-distance thing, and Goodie was sure it would fizzle. After the shine wore off fucking King Steve. Like, he gets it. High school Eddie could never, would never, and now he's reliving his adolescence, chasing after Steve Harrington like a little lap dog. Panting, and humping his goddamn leg.

It's so high school, it makes Goodie sick. 

Unfortunately, this has gone on long enough that now Goodie's sure they're about to be saddled with Harrington full-time. 

Goodie looks over, and no fucking way. Not on his couch. Their shared couch. Community property.

Steve's trying to look normal, but he's red-faced, eyes squeezed shut, his gym shorts pulled down in the back, Eddie's fingers disappearing down into them, into Steve, Goodie's pretty fucking sure. He doesn't know where else they could be. Especially not with the face Steve's making.

Goodie nudges Gareth, just to make sure he's not seeing things. Misconstruing. Maybe he just has a dirty mind, and is still traumatized from the blowjob incident last week.

And the tongue in the asshole fiasco from the week before that.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, not again," Gareth says under his breath, so no, no he's not imagining it. Eddie's got three fingers shoved up Steve's asshole right where they can all see. 

"Eddie!" Goodie yells, and Steve is the one that jumps, Eddie just fucking laughs, but he doesn't pull his hand out of Steve shorts, until Steve crawls off his lap, ears tinged red, heading straight for the bathroom.

"Seriously? With us in the room?" Goodie asks, as soon as Steve's gone, behind the closed door.

"I wasn't doing anything," Eddie bemoans, but he has a shit eating grin, as he puts up three fingers, in a mock salute, "Scout's honor."

And his fingers are fucking shiny, with what must be lube. 

Because they've been up Steve's ass. 

Goodie shakes his head, trying not to give Eddie the attention he's clearly craving. He's a pervert, and Goodie's not playing into his exhibionist streak. 

Steve finally resurfaces from the bathroom, and Eddie stands.

"Time for bed," Eddie says, and then they're gone, the door to Eddie and Gareth's bedroom shutting with a heavy snick.

Gareth looks over at Goodie, and gives him a withering stare, "Thanks. Now my room's gonna smell like spunk. Again."

Goodie just cackles. Sucker.

Steve's moaning, Eddie's grunting, headboard hitting the wall, and honestly, Goodie thinks maybe he should have just kept his goddamn mouth shut. This is worse.

"How're they still like this, it's been years," Goodie says, not really asking a question. 

"Years?" Jeff asks, "The dancing around each other, maybe, but the fucking? That's brand new."

"You're shitting me?" Goodie asks, in disbelief. There's no fucking way. "Gareth?"

Gareth will know.

"A couple months?" Gareth offers, and Goodie cannot believe that's true. Eddie's been lusting for, talking about, obsessing over Steve Harrington ever since that weird spring break that sent Eddie to the hospital for weeks, with Steve a constant at his side. Steve had taken up permanent residency, like he was Wayne Newton in Vegas. 

Eddie wrapped up in soft sweaters that definitely weren't his own. 

They were together. Right? Definitely. These two just weren't observant.

Eddie punctuates his thought with a long, disgusting groan, that can only mean he's just come. 

"We gotta make some changes," Goodie says, "we can't live like this."

"We're barely here, Goods, let him have this," Jeff says, the peacemaker, the voice of reason. The herder of cats. 

"No," Goodie argues, just to argue. 

"Yes," Jeff counters, "if you don't, I bet Steve's cozy little house on Wabash is gonna look pretty damn good."

"Eddie wouldn't dare," Goodie snaps, and then he hears Eddie and Steve both giggling, and well, Eddie might.

Goddammit. 

"Fine, we'll be assaulted by the sights and sounds, but I won't be happy."

"None of us are," Gareth says in solidarity, agreeing with Goodie, for once. Hell has officially frozen over.

Eddie comes out, holding a towel over his junk, bare ass in the wind, grinning like an asshole as he heads towards the bathroom.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: This is inspired by Taylor's Swift song So High School. Steve knows how to ball, Eddie knows Aristotle. I don't make the rules.

Read Steve's POV on this situation right here in, Full Throttle.

[ollypopwrites]

WIP Wednesday

On an actual wednesday imagine that.

i got tagged by none other than @razildor and will now be presenting an unedited bit of the Aureate sequel with no context. Good luck, babe!

tagging WHOEVER WANTS TO. idc tag me. i wanna see it. i’ve already tagged people today and im afraid of being a Bother.

Emmrich hadn’t been serious about it. When he had suggested it, the idea was merely a way to shame Mortiz Lechner. He was deeply incensed that Rook had overheard Lechner speaking of his very unnecessary concerns. When she offered her consent to such an arrangement to make up for being a mark on his reputation, something simply had to be done.

“She should be here shortly, she was in Treviso for dress fittings.” Emmrich announced to the room.

The two barristers present stared at him for a moment.

He had the same legal appointee for years, as he had been updating his bequeathments yearly since he had enough to be concerned about. There had been little else to see her for, so their visits until recently had been annual and short. Bauer looked back at the paperwork in front of her, and then turned her entire body towards Emmrich to speak quietly.

“This is… unusual, you understand?”

“And what is so unusual about it?”

“Typically these types of contracts offer, erm, more protection.” Bauer glanced at the papers, “we could reschedule, possibly reassess some of the terms.”

“They are exactly as I’d like them, thank you.”

“Professor, I am merely concerned,” she insisted. “You changed your will quite a few times last year and now —“

“Pardon me, the world was ending, I had many more precautionary preparations to make,” Emmrich nodded. “And a major life change such as this certainly requires some legal intervention.”

“Of course,” Bauer conceded. “However, hiring your fiance a lawyer — one whom I have a very public rivalry with, mind you, Professor Volkarin, is extremely… odd.”

“I merely wanted to be sure her representative would have every reason to keep her best interests at heart.”

Bauer stared, stumped and then narrowed her eyes, “forgive me for asking, but I must be sure, are you under any duress? Any outside influence that could force you to make a decision like this?”

“I am of perfectly sound mind, and under no circumstances am I being forced.”

“Professor —“

The door opened, and Rook sped in. “I am so sorry, there was some kind of faulty sentinel outside the Treviso eluvian, Lucanis and I had to take care of it and tell the Veil Jumpers.”

Emmrich immediately stood, coming around the table to kiss her cheek. “Perfectly fine, my dear.”

She was bit flustered, her hand was blistered with a light burn and she had a fresh cut on her cheek. One of her sleeves had been torn, and her boots were dirty. His wonderful, dashing adventurer. He gently used some magic to heal away the evidence of the fight as he rubbed her cheek.

“This is Barrister Bauer, my representative these past fifteen years.”

Rook threw her hand out to shake, Bauer took it and then procured a handkerchief to wipe soot away from her hand.

“And this is Barrister Faust, who I took the liberty of retaining for you,” he said.

Faust put his hand out first, and Rook smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

Emmrich pulled her chair out for her, before he went back to his seat.

“So, forgive me, I’ve never even had to think about all this before, is this normal? Two barristers for a single license? I thought we were just going to the court house.”

“We will head there immediately after these proceedings are finished,” Emmrich informed her. “There is some business we must finalize before signing any binding documents.”

[ithurtsogood]

everything here is fantasy and assumed between consenting adults

minors, do not interact

this is an adult content focused page and might contain some very hard kinks, either in likes as in interactions, some of them roleplaying situations that can actually resembles someone’s trauma

if this is you: i am so so sorry and i see you and you are valid and you have the right to feel whatever you do about this thing i do here, my advice for you if that’s the case though is blocking pages like mine; doing that they already stop appearing for you, there’s no need of reporting and stuff pls i dont want to be nuked 🥺

and for our community: put CWs on stuff is not that hard (one day i’ll elaborate this further i’m becoming talkative and at this point i’m tired lol) (self-critique, i need to do it with my content. i will be when i have time, i didn’t thought on my acc as something public at first lol)

on my account i am talking about lots of simulated non-consenting, degrading scenes and language in general and some mid body restrains - sore (no blood, though - i have my limits, too; check them below) go somewhere else if that kind of subject causes distress on you.

under #safeplace you can find my sfw/wholesome side and aesthetics

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

polyamorous, bi/pan, probably hypersexual, GMT -4 -3, english as second language, autistic, sub-leaning masochist

28y cunt, 5’4 (1,64) 🍒: 36E

needy slut in any language. brain leaked between my legs, it’s amazing you should try

dms are open, but i will stalk you i mean check your ✨vibes✨ before knowing how/if i want to interact to you; any delay on answering is not personal, i just have a life outside this lol

feel free to send fantasies and visual content (for self pics, ask first. again, ✨vibes✨ ~better chances if we are already mutuals but still, ask first. and i will not show my face here - well, except if i want to)

in general im very very sub leaning (at a point of when i did my last bdsm.org test i didn’t even answered questions designed for dom/me side), my list of kinks and their color coding was written on my thoughts of being receiving part/bottom. but since lately i’ve had some fun exploring my (very subtle) domme side, i made a parallel list of things i feel would be into on giving a sub (though i guess i prefer to study each individual ones, it’s part of the fun for me) ;they will appear in bold in my color coding list below

might appear often/ i’m really into

cnc, rape play, free use, gang bang, object inserting, inspection, spanking, impact play, sensorial deprivation, choking, sonmo, body worshipping, feet play, overstimulation, multiple stuff inserted in my holes omg i <3 to feel fulled, bondage, pain play (clit and nipples punishmennt hmnn), kidnapping, being kept in a dungeon as a sex slave, humiliation, degradation, spit, slap, fisting, school authority teacher/detention (bullying scenes, my beloved), objetcification

praise and objectification in a more psychological way

under certain conditions/ with specific people

blood, age play, public tasks irl, ddlg, misoginist roleplay, medfet, body writting, piss play (swallowing is red zone though), electric play, (soft) pet play

i wouldn’t and i prefer don’t see content about

scat, puke, permanent body changes, gore, feederism/ food control, bestiality, pregnancy, raceplay, incest (and sorry folks, even the fauxcesty mommy/daddy language makes me uncomfortable, but this ones is more a personal thing than an actual judgment), actual misoginy or any kind of talking that demands degrading an entire group of people*, not only those to agreed to participate (i want to eventually elaborate that concept)

* ik i have some ftm degradation posts saved, but i wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to someone, it’s just.. situations i imagined myself being under, before seeing the tag (which might not make sense since i’m cisgender, but well, my imagination is fertile) and was so well written to not save (i’m not always checking the source page from where i save stuff, sometimes i’m just scrolling the feed and like spamming; but if i ever interact in a post of yours in a way you’re not comfortable, or if your page is a cis people dni, feel free to tell me, and i step back, unlike and offer my sincere apologies. // tl;dr: this page is and always will be trans/nb ally 🏳️‍⚧️

if you read this till the end and Agree on Terms of Use™️, start your dm with said emoji sequence, so i can assume your awareness (and you let me know you’re capable of respecting real life boundaries/ safe words)

❌🍑❌🍑

• #safeplace for kink unrelated stuff/ safe for work content

• #kinkeducation #outofcharacter for some meta thoughts (in process)

• i have the intention to map some of the most frequent kinks and interactions but still doing #askhurtsg #challengehsg (in process)

[olsenmyolsen]

Chapter Twelve: A Weekend Away Pt. 2 - Black and Brusied

The Farmer's Daughter - (A WandaNat Story)

Masterlist . Tag list: @xenaizogie

Summary: Natasha calls Wanda just to hear her voice. Later on, Natasha gets what she signed up for when she agrees to box with Maya Lopez.

Word Count: 4.2K

Content: Feelings, Sam Wilson embarrassing Wanda, Yelena (r.i.p), Mayaz Lopez Vs Natasha Romanoff

"Tomorrow night for sure."

Natasha sent back and closed out her phone as Kate knocked on the guest room door. "Natasha, can I come in?"

Natasha rose from the bed and saved her breath by opening the door.

Kate stood in the hall wearing a completely different suit from the one prior. "Okay, be honest. How does this look?" Kate asked as she looked Natasha up and down. Her eyes widened a tad as she loved how the dress fit Natasha.

"I think it looks great, Kate!" Natasha was being supportive as she brushed Kate's shoulder. Kate looked down at Natasha's arm scars before looking at her own suit. "You sure?" Natasha laughed through her nose. "Trust me. You look amazing."

Kate looked at her friend. "You too." She didn't mean to, but she flickered her eyes to the scars Natasha had once again. Natasha saw. She lifted her arm up and looked at it, too.

Kate spoke up as she moved her eyes to Natasha's face. "Sometimes I find it hard to look at mine..." Kate's hand rubbed the side of her stomach. Natasha noticed. She then smiled. "We're still badass." She still had troubled days with her own body, but she didn't want her and Kate to dwell on it before the big night.

Kate laughed and flicked Natasha's arms. "Clearly. Come on, we should get going before I change my suit again."

Natasha picked up her phone and matching clutch. "I think the color purple suits you. Even if it is just a tie!"

They arrived at the event slightly earlier than the scheduled time, which was perfectly fine with Natasha. It allowed her to see everything before the majority of the public did.

However, as the two exited the elevator to the studio space for the event, they ran into an old buddy, Kate had forgotten that she had invited.

An older man with a beard, short, muscular stature, and thick brown hair.

"Oh my goodness!" Kate opened her arms wide as the man pulled his cigar away from his mouth and reluctantly accepted Kate's warm nature. "Logan!" Kate said as she exited the hug. "I didn't think you make it."

"You forgot you invited me, didn't you?" He asked as the cigar went right back into his mouth. Kate smiled as she spoke honestly. "Yep." She said, making Natasha chuckle slightly.

Natasha could tell Kate's nerves for tonight were starting to rise rapidly.

Logan moved his eyes from Kate to Natasha. "Nat, good to see you." Logan extended his hand. Natasha took it and shook it. "See, you still got that grip." The man spoke.

"See, you still have that bad habit of yours." Natasha pointed with her eyes to the cigar. Logan grumbled and rolled his eyes before taking the cigar from his mouth and putting it out on his left hand.

Dead nerves.

"Didn't know you were around," Logan spoke to Natasha as Kate looked between the two. "In the city?" Logan asked. Natasha shook her head. "Found work not far in a small town." Natasha lightly bumped Kate on the shoulder. "I actually ran into Kate this past week while out with some friends."

Kate flicked her eyes to Natasha at the word friends. 

"It's been nice catching up." Kate smiled and playfully bumped Natasha back. "It really has been nice." Logan slightly tilted the corners of his mouth up at that.

"What about you?" Natasha asked. "How have you and Kate contacted each other recently?"

Logan's eyes went from Natasha to Kate. Almost as if he was asking permission. Natasha briefly looked at Kate.

Kate took the lead. "Logan owns a few gyms around the state..." Natasha slowly nodded. "Okay..?"

"And so one day I was in the gym- not by myself, no I was-"

This process was going to take too long, especially with Kate's nerves. "Her girl goes to my gym," Logan spoke. Kate closed her mouth and turned to Natasha, who raised an eyebrow. Kate exhaled. "I was with Maya at the gym a couple of weeks ago, and in walked Logan. It was nice. It had been years since I had really seen anyone. We caught up briefly, and then I blinked, and he and Maya were in the ring."

Natasha tipped her head with enthusiasm. "Oh really?" She looked to Logan, who had crossed his arms—a sour look on his face.

Kate smiled, making Natasha smile. "Rusty in your age huh?" Natasha teased. "Alright, come on, Nat, have you seen her girl?" Logan kept explaining his reasonings for his ass hitting the floor in the ring, but Natasha just loved it. "I'd like to see you try." Logan sneered at Natasha.

"Oh, is that right?" Natasha looked from Kate to Logan, who nodded. "I can take her," Natasha said, making Logan smirk, but a figure joined the group before anyone could stop this idea from tumbling anymore.

They tapped Kate on the shoulder, making them turn around.

It was Maya.

Logan smirked. "I'll see you inside." Logan pointed to the event at Natasha and waved at Maya before walking away with a smile.

Natasha moved her eyes from Logan's back to greet Maya. She extended her hand and gave a large, friendly smile. Maya took her hand for the second time today and shook it with her own smile as her eyes looked up and down both Kate and Natasha.

Maya hugged and signed to Kate, making the younger one blush with a smile. Her eyes darted up Natasha's dress as well. "She says your dress is beautiful, and she didn't think you had those muscles hiding."

Natasha moved her eyes from Kate to Maya, who smirked at the redhead. She must've read Logan's lips. Natasha liked the challenge.

Kate could see where this was. "Oh boy,"

"You can see what they can do, let's say... tomorrow?" Kate didn't even have to sign. Maya read lips and smiled wide. She then nodded and looked at Kate, who rolled her eyes.

However, to both of the women, this was one to get to know the other one. Plus, if they could beat a friend of Logan's, all the more reason.

Kate could sense a friendship slowly blossoming, and she adored it.

Shortly after that part of the conversation passed, the trio moved into the art space, and immediately Natasha found herself stunned at the photograph her friend had achieved.

Black and white pictures hung from the ceiling scattered throughout the room. Natasha quickly recognized some of the many places Kate had traveled to, some of them from the military.

It was the perfect combination of living in two worlds.

Natasha glanced back to her friend, who was too busy with Maya, which was no problem. Natasha watched as the two of them started to walk off in a different direction. Maya's hand on Kate's back, moving it up and down. She was bringing comfort to Kate, and it made Natasha happy to see.

So Natasha quietly walked her own way around. She stopped and read the paragraphs below for a lot of them. She watched people walk by and listened to them murmur Kate's praises.

Slowly, the night progressed, and eventually, Natasha came to the end of a row and froze. In front of her green eyes were twenty or more hanging pictures, each one of a whole picture, and when Natasha moved just slightly to the left, she could see that it was her sister.

Yelena Belova, in black and white, was nude and wrapped in a beaten and tattered American flag. Her scars from her tours were on display and immediately Natasha understood the symbolism as she looked at Yelena's eyes full of tears.

Natasha took a step forward to examine the work closely. Yelena's dog tags were shown below a rip in the stars. Yelena's left thigh was exposed and pushed through the stripes.

Natasha was taken aback.

Natasha looked down at the photos and saw Yelena's left wrist lying open in the sand where the picture was taken, and as Natasha's eyes looked, that's when she noticed the only color in the whole art piece.

Yelena's red hourglass tattoo.

The same Black Widows wore—Yelena's callsign.

Natasha found herself gasping, her eyes watering. Natasha always knew Yelena would live on, but seeing it done so beautifully and with care, in a way only Kate could manage, struck Natasha.

Natasha heard footsteps cautiously walk up next to her before a hand worked its way around Natasha's body and pulled her close. It was Kate.

Natasha sniffled and threw an arm around Kate as they held each other. "I don't know what to say..." Natasha admitted. Kate understood and just allowed the two to settle in this moment. It wasn't until multiple minutes passed that Kate spoke up. "We spent hours on that beach.."

Natasha smiled at the idea of Yelena complaining about the sand. "She was a lobster for a week." Natasha wiped her eyes and laughed. "I bet. Even as a kid, she refused sunscreen." Kate smiled before patting Natasha's side and gesturing to the explanation of the art piece.

At the very bottom were five words.

In Dedication to Yelena Belova.

That night, Natasha cried into Kate's arms as the younger woman did the same. It was interesting to think... Kate and Natasha had on-and-off contact since the loss of Yelena but nothing concrete for a long while now.

And just by chance, Natasha ran into the Bishop girl days ago, and now they are back in each other's life, as if nothing had happened. It was comforting and brought a smile to Natasha's face because she knew it wouldn't have happened without Wanda.

"Excuse me," Natasha said as she left the group of Kate's city friends after freshening up. Natasha exited the space where the event was being held and pulled out her phone.

She ignored the text from Wanda sitting on her lock screen and instead called the girl.

Wanda wasn't expecting to hear back from Natasha for the rest of the night, so when her phone buzzed on Sam Wilson's coffee table, she left it alone.

"You gonna get that?" Sam asked from his spot closest to it on the floor. Wanda shook her head at Sam before focusing back on Carol and Bucky playing a fighting game.

What was it called Civil War? No Meele? Smash? Wanda could never remember the name of it.

Sam looked away from his friend and picked up her phone. "Uh, Wanda, you might want to get this." Sam smiled widely and spoke loudly, drawing everybody's attention.

Sam turned Wanda's phone over to show her the caller ID: Nat 🫡

Wanda quickly reached for it and yanked it out of Sam's before he even thought about answering for himself.

"Oh, come on, Wanda, don't leave!" Followed by laughter was the first thing Natasha heard once the ringing stopped. She recognized the voice belonging to Sam. Natasha listened as Wanda breathed down the phone until the background noise faded, and Wanda found herself in the garage.

The smell of rubber filled her nose.

"Wanda?"Natasha asked quietly. "Natasha?" Wanda answered.

Natasha smiled at her gentle voice. "Hi." Natasha smiled down the phone like a dork with a crush. Because she was. But so was Wanda. "Hi." The brunette beamed. "What's up?" Wanda asked as she began walking around the Wilson's garage.

"I was just at Kate's event- I mean, I'm still at it- I'm outside of it right now-" Natasha stopped herself and chuckled. She was getting flustered. "I... I.." Natasha was struggling to formulate what she wanted to say.

Wanda leaned against Sam's jeep. "Natasha, what's going on?" She had never genuinely heard Natasha be this lost for words. Natasha chewed on her bottom lip as Wanda's concern wormed its way through her before speaking again. "Kate made this stunning piece for Yelena..."

Wanda could hear the lump in Natasha's throat.

"Kate allowed me to take some pictures, so I'll have to show you. Like on the phone, not physically." Natasha once again laughed to herself, making Wanda smile.

Natasha really was coming back.

"I can't wait." Wanda softly said as she listened to Natasha's breathing. "I guess it just made me think about these last couple of days..." Wanda nodded even if Natasha couldn't see it. "How I never would've met Kate again if it wasn't for you being in my life. It might seem ridiculous to say, but it's true."

Wanda held her breath as Natasha kept speaking. Wanda loved her voice.

"I miss you, Wanda," Natasha said as she was sitting on the top step of the stairwell in the building. Her voice echoed off the empty walls.

Wanda froze at the words but melted all the same, but before Wanda could say anything back, the garage door to the house opened. "Found her!"  Natasha loudly heard Sam call out on the other side. "Sam!" Wanda yelled back as her secret moment was ruined.

Carol and Bucky squeezed themselves into the doorway with Sam as they watched Wanda flip them off before she turned her body away. "Still there?" Wanda asked.

"I am."

Wanda held the phone closer to her if possible. "I have an audience now." She spoke in an annoyed tone, but Natasha didn't mind. "I can let you go." Natasha politely offered, but Wanda rapidly shut that down. "No... I- Nat I... I miss you too." Wanda's face broke out with giddiness. The words left her mouth before cheers and claps annoyingly happened behind her back. "I'm sorry if you can hear them." Wanda offered with a happy laugh, but Natasha loved it.

"It's okay." A pause as each woman thought about the other. "I guess I just wanted to call and tell you." Natasha shook her head, a little embarrassed. "Okay." Wanda smiled. "Talk to you tomorrow?" Wanda questioned.

"Talk to you tomorrow," Natasha said as a yes.

"K-I-S-"

Wanda ended the phone call, and if looks could kill Sam Wilson would be dead.

Natasha woke up the next morning with her legs being crushed by Fanny Longbottom. She didn't remember the dog coming into her room, but at the same time, she wasn't surprised.

Natasha moved her legs out from under the dog, making Fanny look back because, somehow, Fanny was comfortable that way.

Fanny laid back down and huffed.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh as she got up. "Morning," Natasha said as she found Kate lying on the couch. Kate waved without lifting her head. "I ordered breakfast, and it should be here soon," Kate said as her voice sounded rough.

Mainly because the first thing Kate did this morning was puke.

Natasha came out of the kitchen with water and tea for Kate. Coffee for herself. Kate peered her eyes at the mugs as they hit the coffee table. "I don't remember drinking that much."

"You were trying to calm your nerves a lot last night."

"That makes sense." Kate hummed. "Maya tried to get you to stop, but that didn't work." Kate sat up slightly. "That also makes sense." Kate adjusted herself as Fanny came into the room. "At least I'm not you today." Natasha nodded before hearing Kate's words. "Wait, why?" She looked genuinely confused.

Kate smirked. "You have your spar with Maya."

"You're not scared, are you?" Natasha looked at Kate as they walked side by side into the back area of the gym where the boxing ring was. Natasha raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Not a chance."

Kate loved Natasha's confidence, but she was going to support Maya a tad more today.

As Kate and Natasha walked closer to the ring, they noticed a group gathered around. "Logan!" Kate called out as she spotted their old friend chatting with the referee for the spar, Happy Hogan—a former wrestler.

Logan gave Happy a pat on his shoulder before making his way to the girls. "Got quite a crowd, huh?" Natasha questioned Logan. "Don't look at me. When Maya fights, it's a spectacle."

Okay, maybe now Natasha was starting to get a little worried.

"Where's Maya?" Kate asked. Logan pointed to a speed bag she was working with to the left. Maya turned around as she saw Kate approaching in the gym's mirrors. With a glow of sweat and a smile, Maya leaned down and kissed Kate on the cheeks before signing to her.

Kate pointed towards Natasha. Maya looked up with a smile and waved. Natasha smiled and waved back. Eyes around the room looked from one to the other.

Natasha briefly looked around before walking towards Maya. Her head high but her eyes wandered over her competition. Just as she was doing that, Natasha discovered something she didn't know about Maya.

Maya was an amputee.

Starting halfway up Maya's right thigh was the beginning of Maya's prosthetic. Black and looking like carbon, Natasha couldn't yank her eyes away until the leg stuck itself out.

Natasha looked up, slightly embarrassed. Maya was looking at her curiously. "I think it looks badass," Natasha said honestly before Kate or Maya could say anything.

Kate didn't have to sign; Maya understood. She then pointed at Natasha's exposed arms and flexed.

"You too." She signed.

Natasha smiled and saw how similar they were dressed. Dark-colored sports crop tops. Natasha's grey. Maya's black. Along with black athletic legging shorts. Natasha wore black leggings as well.

Maya smirked at Natasha and signed again, making Kate slap Maya on the arm. "What?" Natasha asked. "She's being cocky." Kate turned to Natasha. "She'd said if you want to stretch, do it now. She would hate to break anything once you're in the ring."

Natasha loved it.

"We'll see," Natasha said before doing a 180 and walking away with eyes on her. She smirked.

Today was going to be fun.

"You good?" Logan asked as Natasha re-tied her hair up into a ponytail. It had been half an hour since Natasha had gone to her corner of the gym to stretch and get a quick workout.

"Yeah?" She questioned, looking up at Logan from the floor mat. "Just making sure." He softened as Natasha looked at him. He was the definition of a big softie. Hard exterior but a profoundly caring man. "I'm good, James." She said before winking and giggling to herself.

Natasha knew how the man hated to go by James.

"Well, excuse me for caring." Logan playfully rolled his eyes before sticking his arm out for Natasha. She smiled and took his hand, helping her up.

Natasha walked to the ring, and the closer, the better view she had of Maya jumping in place, swinging her arms.

She was ready and wearing purple boxing gloves.

"Wait, we're using gloves?" Natasha asked Logan as she stopped at her corner of the ring. Logan looked at her, confused. "Yeah, Natasha, this is a sparring match, not a fight on base."

Natasha softly jabbed Logan's arm and laughed. "I'm just teasing. Jeez, Kate was right. You really did lose your sense of humor." She made a face before jumping up into the ropes and hopping into the ring.

"Did Kate say that?" Logan asked as he climbed onto the ropes behind Natasha.

Natasha turned around and shook her head. Logan rolled his eyes and tossed Natasha her gloves. Red.

She smiled.

"Alright, ladies, are we ready?" Happy Hogan asked after putting the headgear on each lady as they stood shoulder to shoulder.

They nodded before turning to face one another.

Happy looked around at the faces of friends and strangers alike before addressing Natasha and Maya.

"Alright, I want a clean fight—no cheap shots. If a person is down, you do not engage. If a fighter is down for ten seconds or longer, the match is over. Remember, we're here for fun. If I call stop, that's it. There is no timer, just until someone wants to stop. We good?"

Maya knew the rules. This was mainly for Natasha, who listened to every word and took in the rules. Like Happy said, she was here for fun and didn't want anything to get out of hand.

"Are we good?" Happy asked again. Natasha And Maya nodded. "Alright, back up, touch gloves, and we'll start."

Kate cheered the loudest as Natasha and Maya touched gloves before the bell rang.

And briefly, for a moment, as Maya and Natasha started to circle one another, did Natasha think about Wanda and what she would do if she were here? Natasha thinks she would cheer louder than Kate and swear like a sailor at the action. Especially the drunker she got, the more her accent would come out like it did last week.

Should I have told her I was fighting today?

No, that's silly, right?

Natasha thought before she felt a force hit her in the stomach. She let her guard down. Natasha bit down on her mouthguard and brought her focus back to Maya.

Quickly, she backed away and swung, making fragile contact with Maya's right arm. The distance between the two widened once again.

Maya stepped closer to Natasha and landed another shot against Natasha's glove. Natasha watched Maya's stance as she moved.

Maya took a swing towards Natasha, but the redhead was able to dodge and readjust herself before Maya missed another swing. And another.

Everyone was quickly realizing that Natasha was faster. More nimble.

Maya knitted her eyebrows closer and tucked her shoulders in, expecting a hit from Natasha, but it didn't come. Instead, Natasha took a step back and cracked her neck.

She was studying.

Maya stepped forward again and watched how Natasha moved her feet. It was delicate, like a ballerina.

Somehow, Maya needed to get Natasha off balance to win this.

However, Natasha was watching Maya's eyes, and while Maya wasn't wrong in her assumptions, it left her unable to see the split-second Natasha went to punch with her right after faking with her left.

It sounded like a crack. The blow landed on Maya's ribs, making her stumble back. But Natasha was fast and ran forward with another blow to the chest and to the hip before Maya pushed Natasha away.

Natasha smiled, showing her mouthguard. Was it lousy sportsmanship? Who's to say? Maya liked it and let it fuel her as she raised her arms to cover her face.

"Do you think Natasha would use her spin move if we let her?" Logan asked Kate as they watched sweat fall to the mat as Natasha and Maya landed hits on one another.

Kate made an are you serious face. "She would've had Maya's head between her legs so fast." Kate paused. "Wait! That sounded wrong! What I meant was...!"

Logan tuned her out and went back to watching the match.

Natasha hooked right and landed a blow onto the side of Maya's head, but Maya leaned into it as she had readied herself, so as Natasha made contact, she swung upwards and nailed Natasha in the face.

Immediately, the redhead stumbled back as her left eye clenched close, and she tasted copper.

Natasha got a dose of what everyone knew. Maya could pack a punch. Still, she would never back down from a fight. Natasha raised her arms as blood fell to the middle of the ring.

With one eye already bruising and her nose bleeding, Natasha nodded to Happy and let him know she was good to go.

Maya grinned at Natasha's spirit. It reminded her of stories Kate would tell of Yelena.

A fire always burned in them.

Maya let Natasha get close, thinking the redhead would swing, but she was wrong. Natasha was backing Maya up into the ropes. The second she got there, Natasha stepped forward and swung to Maya's left, but she blocked it, leaving Natasha open to hit her in the chest, which Natasha took advantage of.

As Maya braced herself and took a hit after hit, her eyes found Kate's. With a face fit for an angel, Kate lifted her hands up and started signing.

Amongst phrases of encouragement, one stuck out.

I love you.

Three words pulled Maya off the ropes, making Natasha fall back as her speed wasn't enough for the strength of Maya Lopez.

Quickly, Maya went to work; her hits became faster. Natasha couldn't block them quick enough. Natasha could land hits but was taking more than she could. Soon, Natasha found herself taking a hit to her scarred shoulder before enduring another one on her face.

It was as if it was happening in slow motion. Natasha's body hit the ground. Blood splattered off her lips next to her. Maya watched as Happy stepped in and started counting to 10.

Natasha rolled onto her back, which made her wince as a jolt of pain shot throughout her body. As Natasha stared at the ceiling, she knew she needed to get back up.

Everyone watched as Maya raised her hands, cheering as Happy got to 6...7...8... Logan looked from Maya to Natasha. He bumped Kate on the shoulder as their stubborn friend started to get up.

Happy slowly backed away as he got to 9 before Natasha returned to her feet.

Natasha stood before Maya, who raised her arms, ready to keep going, but Natasha smiled wide, stopping her.

Maya watched as the redhead turned to Happy. He leaned forward as Natasha tried to speak through her mouthguard. He asked her a question, making her nod. Happy then turned to Maya, gently placing his hand on her right arm before lifting it.

Stating that she won.

Maya Lopez won.

Natasha knew she could've kept going and maybe won, but honestly, she had a job and someone special to get back to.

It was time to return to the farm.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[who-let-a-bird-in]

For the most part this is just based on names but I’m gonna put a short description for each of them under the cut, and yes, most of my characters have old people names, get used to it/lh

EDIT: there is one additional person I’m adding to this post, her name is Corvid, there’s more info about her in the reblogs if you want to know about her, and if you want to vote for her just let me know in the comments, tags, reblogs whatever

Quinn- basically it would just be a gothamite blog, Quinn’s backstory is usually just whatever’s convenient for me so I think it would depend on what ends up happening with her on what her backstory would end up being

Constance- basically she’s if Thomas and Martha had another kid besides Bruce (and kind of Thomas junior, he would probably be brought up), an account for her would either be her as like a teenager/20-something, or an older adult when she comes back to Gotham after leaving in her 20’s

Adeline- if Constantine and Zatanna had a kid, I’m gonna be honest I love her so much, I’ve never done anything like publicly with her but I love her, I usually have her being 17-19, she either lives alone or lives with Zatanna when Zatanna isn’t off world or on tour, her relationship with John is a lot more complicated because like hes kind of there, and I think deep down he wants to be there, but he also just doesn’t know what to do with a kid, also in some stuff for her I have her being close to the batfamily since Zatanna has canonically known Bruce since the two of them were like teenagers

Clarissa- half sister of Johnathan crane (scarecrow), she didn’t really get the supervillain thing, just the mental illness genes, in some variations of her she knows he’s scarecrow, some she doesn’t (it really depends on if he gives a shit about her or not if she knows/lh), I haven’t really decided if I would ever want to make her a vigilante or even a villian, I think it would depend on what direction the account goes in on what I do with her

Marceline- another one connected to Constantine, basically Marceline is a demon that just kind of ended up fucking clinging to him one day and Constantine got stuck with her/lh, she has both like a demon form and a human form, she’s trying to learn magic from John, usually she’s like 12-16, id probably put her in the middle and make her like 14, and yes I did get her name from Marceline the vampire queen

Laurel- similar-ish backstory to kon, she’s another of lex Luthor’s clones (yes she is a women, no she is no power girl/karen), she actually does live with lex though, she disagrees with a lot of his opinions and gets manipulated by him pretty often, often times he uses her to make his public image look better, but she’s still her own person, I think maybe at some point I would have her leaving to just further become her own person, fully separate from Clark and Lex

Reyna- spidersona, I really like spider-man but I’m not a huge fan of marvel overall (except for x-men and spider-man) so she’s still in the dc universe, she lives in New York but still shows up in Gotham and Blüdhaven occasionally, I do have a more fleshed out backstory for her but I think it would be something that comes out over time, not just an immediate lore drop

[bippot]

Joyride

Story Summary -> There are three things Jake loves to do at work. None of which are work. One: eating. Two: flirting with his girlfriend. Three: annoying Kevin. At first, he only thought he'd only get to do two of those three options.

Tags -> Smut, Arcades, Car Sex kinda, Semi-Public Sex, Gym Sex, Idiots in Love

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

There's only so many times Jake can run those simulations without getting mind-numbingly bored. It's the same tracks over and over again. He knows them like the back of his hand; he's sure of it. Well, it's his job to be sure of it.

Taking a break would be great for him. He could get some food, maybe some of those healthy kettle chips that Catherine brought in (he wouldn't admit to anyone, especially Kevin, but he actually quite likes them), maybe he'd wander over and flirt with his girlfriend while she was helping fix the car with Chuck and Amir, maybe he'd go and annoy Kevin by telling him how he'd gotten his head stuck in the bannister of the stairs at his house earlier this week. 

Yeah. He should do that. He should take some time to himself.

First up, the chips. That was easy. He walked up and grabbed some without anyone noticing. If anyone asked, he'd claim he'd intended to reach for the BBQ ones but 'accidentally' picked these up and opened them without realising. And, shit, now they're open. He can't waste food now. What would the children in Africa think? Exactly. That's why he has to finish the bag. Not because he likes them, but because he's a good person who loves the environment and the people who inhabit it. He's a humanitarian, if you think about it.

Next up was Y/N. She had to be around here somewhere. Jake confidently walked up to the car and suavely asked, "How is it you still look beautiful with a car on top of you?"

"Boy, I am not your girlfriend," Chuck warned back. Fuck. Of course. He should've noticed that Y/N doesn't have that big of feet. Oops.

Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, Jake cleared his throat then added, "Uh, do you know where Y/N is?"

"Having her daily girl talk with Catherine."

Great, just great. Sure, his girlfriend being buddies with his boss was helpful. Y/N often aided when he got in Catherine's bad books, which was all of the time. However, it always felt like Y/N was conferring with the enemy. Strangely, Jake thought he'd be more comfortable with his girlfriend talking to Blaney or any number of his actual competitors rather than their boss.

That totally wasn't true; he was incredibly protective on race days and made sure the other racers knew for a fact that Y/N was his girlfriend, and his only girlfriend at that. He'd make a big show of snogging the hell out of her before he got into the car and after. The message was clear to anyone around the track.

Still, he'd have to move on to step three: annoy Kevin. He just started out with small talk in the beginning, nothing too in-depth. Then he'd say, "Did I tell you where I got my head stuck this week?"

"If you say Y/N's thighs again, I'm going to replace you with Jessie."

"No. Well, yeah, always," he replied with a chuckle. Kevin looked exasperated, so Jake continued, "Have you seen the first episode of Modern Family?"

"Years ago, yeah."

"So, Luke, the little boy, got his head stuck in the bannister, and I thought, 'He's a kid, that's why. I'm an adult; I could definitely get my head back out.' You'll never guess that I-"

"Go back. You saw a fictional child do something stupid and your first thought was, 'I'm going to do it too?' "

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake clarified, "Pretty much, yeah."

"Honestly, sometimes I have no idea how Y/N puts up with you."

"Other than my sparkly eyes and charming smile - her words, not mine, by the way - it's probably because I spend most of my time between her -"

Covering his ears childishly, Kevin ordered, "Get out before I fire you."

While Jake was busy with Kevin, Y/N had walked back to the car, only to get told that her 'dumbass of a boyfriend' was looking for her, so she walked into the gym, expecting to find him in there. Nope. Nowhere in sight. Yet he had left one of his hats on the seat of the simulator. He'd probably want that. She made her way over and picked it up, placing it on her head for safekeeping. Safekeeping and the fact Jake always got that goofy big grin whenever she would wear his clothes. That grin that made her feel all warm inside.

As she was about to walk away, the simulator made a noise that attracted her attention towards it. It wouldn't hurt to have one go, right? She'd always been curious. After a quick glance that Jessie or Kevin weren't around, she sat in the driver's seat and began playing. Being a mechanic meant that she was pretty good with cars, nowhere near as good at driving as Jake, of course, but was better than the average Joe. And it wasn't rocket science; it was just pedals and wheels, and she knew how to do that.

Jake opened the gym door to see his girlfriend in his hat in his driver's seat. That man could've exploded on the spot. He quickly shut and locked the door behind him, made his way behind her as she drove, and placed his arms around the back of the seat, watching her as she went through the course. She made a few mistakes, but she was having a blast.

'Hey, baby."

"Shhh... focus."

She did as he said and continued the simulation, trying her hardest to keep her eyes on the screen, which was hard because she could hear his deepening breaths close to her ear. The scent of his cologne surrounded her, making her want to bury her face in his neck and inhale deeply.

"Jakey, is this turning you on?"

"Uh-huh," he groaned. Jake was in his own world, lost in his fantasy of Y/N, which actually was a reality. So he had a big grin on his face and an erection.

When her race was over and the time popped up on the screen, he cheered, "That's only 5 seconds more than Jessie; you're almost a pro, babe."

She flirted, "Learnt it by watching you, hot wheels," and tilted her head so he'd peck her on the lips. But he didn't.

Instead, he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip and instructed her to, "Take your trousers off."

What did her little submissive Jake Martin just say to her? Y/N took her time before slowly standing up, unbuttoning her trousers, and shimming them to the ground as she watched as he sat down in the driver's seat. Oh, she knew what was about to happen.

She flashed back to a couple of weeks back when they had gone to an arcade for one of their dates. It had been really sweet. Jake had tried his hardest to win a large stuffed penguin for her, but because the games are rigged, they ended up with a mid-sized sloth (which she thought was even cuter but he wasn't having it). 

They’d been happily sharing some overpriced dirty fries when he noticed the racing game, yet only one of the machines was operational. Still, he wanted a go. 

"Babe, sit on my lap, and we'll both be able to play."

Did she have any reason to decline? No. Why not? If it made him happy, she'd do it.

"I'll do the pedals and gears. You steer. Good?"

"Great."

Things went great. That was until she moved slightly, shifting a little in her seat, and heard him deeply exhale. Then she felt him poke into her, and she quietly enquired, "Are you hard right now?"

"Rock."

Just that would've been enough. It was unfortunate that at that exact moment, a fan recognised the famous Jake Martin and asked for a picture with him.Jake accepted, of course. And so that her boyfriend’s indiscretion wasn’t photographed and shown to the public, Y/N took off her cardigan and handed it to him so he could hide himself behind it, and she held her hand over her mouth as she laughed at him.

"Did you lock the door?"

Nodding, he reached for her hips and pulled her to sit on his thighs, her back to his front. He pulled his joggers and underwear down, then shifted her backwards so she could feel him against her entrance as his hand slipped down the front of her underwear, flicking his index finger against her clit, making her jump.

"Got to be quiet," he warned. "You're so wet, baby.”

And she  felt even better when he removed his fingers, pushed her panties to the side, and guided her onto his cock. She let out a low, lustful moan as he entered her, and his hand immediately clasped over her mouth.

"Hold onto the wheel." 

She did as he said and gripped onto the steering wheel before them. Y/N cried out his name into his hand while he fucked her with long, hard strokes. It was a good thing that she had something to help steady herself because he began to pick up the pace, pushing her hips down onto his like a madman. The friction was incredible, every nerve ending firing her closer and closer orgasm.

Breaking her mouth free, she breathlessly asked, "What the fuck, dude?"

"Did you just dude-zone me while I'm fucking you?"

"Yeah, I gue- ...Oh fuck, Jake," she whispered, taking one of her hands off the wheel and bringing in to the back of his head to intertwine it with his hair. He pounded up into her harder as she did this, and she loved it. The feeling of his hair tickling her palm and his hands gripping her hips for dear life caused her to push his head closer to hers so she could smush her lips against his.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby," he grunted into her mouth, his hand moving back down to play with her to ensure she finished on his cock before he came inside of her. The pressure was building, and he needed to release. "Cum for me.”

Loving his voice as he said that, she nodded vigorously and did, releasing his hair and arching her back as she came hard for him, her body shaking on top of him so he had to restrain her hips. Jake's orgasm was so intense he nearly blacked out. It was one of the most powerful he'd ever felt. 

Y/N smiled and patted his thigh; her breath still staggered. "Good job, stud."

A few minutes later, they were fully clothed and pretending that nothing happened. 

The door had been unlocked, and Jessie walked in. "Hey, Y/N. Y/N's boyfriend," she greeted, suspicious but not catching on to anything. "Mind if I use the simulator?"

Smugly smiling, Jake responded, "Be my guest." 

Y/N didn't even try to hide her smile as she pecked him on the lips (which got a disgusted groan from Jessie - luckily, she had no idea what just happened on the chair she was sitting on) and got back to work.

"What did Jake want?" Amir asked when she arrived back.

"He wanted to talk about going to the arcade."

Conversation topics like that were easy to claim that Jake had tried to talk to her about. Mostly because he had talked to her about it. Many times. Both at home and at work. Their colleagues didn't need to know in depth how much he actually likes the arcade.

*Click here for my masterlist*

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[itwasthereaminuteago]

Roy Pulver (boss level) x female reader

Tags/warnings: kinda one night stand, fingering, p in v unprotected sex, time loop shenanigans? 😅

A/n: I dunno I was just really horny and he's kinda hot in this film. 😁

You had been staring at the scene in front of your wide, disbelieving eyes for well over a minute now yet you can't tear away. Yeah your head is a little fuzzy from the night before but there's no doubt what you're seeing. The black lace of a pair of your underwear stretched over his ass, framing it perfectly. That's all he's wearing as he moves about your small kitchen seemingly… cooking breakfast?

"Roy?"

"Mornin' baby. You sleep alright?" He replies, turning over his shoulder briefly to flash you that self secure smile of his.

He continues shifting pans around and peering into your fridge looking for god knows what as you know you desperately needed to go food shopping. For the short time you've known each other, this all feels incredibly natural. Almost normal. Like you do this all the time.

"Roy…"

"Hmm? Where's your flour at sweetheart? I'm gonna make pancakes for ya, kinda figured you'd need something to soak up the alcohol after last night, y'know?" His eyes crinkle as he throws you a wink and turns back to his quest for ingredients.

"Uhh, in the top right cupboard, why are you wearing my panties?"

They definitely do. You subconsciously swallow the drool that's apparently been collecting in your mouth as your gaze fixes back on his tight butt again, feeling a heat start to blaze between your thighs as he turns around and you notice how he fills out the front of them, barely contained within the confines of the delicate fabric.

He chuckles as he locates the flour and shakes some into a bowl creating a white dust cloud around him. "Think I'm pullin' it off, maybe I gotta get me some of my own. They look good, huh?"

"Y-yeah, maybe, I guess… but why?"

He stops what he's doing, putting down the almost empty carton of milk he was pouring into the bowl, stalking slowly towards you. You're only wearing an oversized sleep shirt and knickers and as his arms slip around your waist and pull you up close, you feel the warmth rising up to your face, blooming across your cheeks as you look up into those mischief-laden hazel eyes fixed on you. The ones that got you so easily into this situation in the first place. The ones that had you staying for 'just one more drink' in the bar with him when you really should have gone home alone, but you couldn't resist. Roy was far too charming for a guy that looked like the usual one-and-done kinda asshole that you tended to end up with. He actually had depth. And well, yeah, he was attractive too. Very attractive.

"Oh," he says mockingly, "you don't remember what a mess you made of mine last night, do you honey?" He slowly slides his thigh between your legs and you can't help making a small noise as his hand goes to your lower back and he presses you down against his muscular leg. "Or… maybe you do." He grins, and you can't help yourself, automatically reaching around to squeeze those criminally pert and semi-naked ass cheeks in your hands. Yeah, you'd both been kinda drunk by the time you'd dragged him back to your apartment (in the uber quick discussion about where to go during your rather heated public makeout session, yours had been closer), but you knew you wanted to ride him like a bucking bronco. Unfortunately, due to too many shots, you never quite got that far in the end.

He hisses as your nails dig shallow welts into his skin and it's your turn to grin at him. "Hm, are you really blaming me for ruining your pants?"

"Hey!" You yelp as he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walks you to the nearest clear countertop and sets you down upon it, his eyes flicking briefly down to glance at your mouth and back up again.

"Yeah I'm blaming you, well, mostly anyways. You were pretty darn set on gettin' on my lap and grinding the absolute shit outta me before you fell asleep. You're tellin' me you really don't remember?"

You do remember, but the way he tilts his head to the side adorably almost makes you want to string him along some more, however the urge to pick up and continue the activities of the night before is by far winning out.

"I- yeah, I'm really sorry about that, might have been a lil bit too tipsy."

One of his hands slides down your side, settling at your hip as you watch the tip of his tongue swipe across his lips. "Well you shouldn't be, was fuckin' hot as fuck!"

You dip your head at his admission and he gently hooks the side of his forefinger under your chin and tips your face back up to make you look at him.

"Though y'know there's this one thing about last night I regret,"

Your stomach drops to your feet. "Oh…"

Roy leans in so close his lips brush against the heated skin of your cheek, your heart suddenly racing as your brain processes his gravel-toned words.

"I didn't get to make you come."

You let out a shuddering breath as you meet his eyes, seeing the same burning desire there from the night before. Then your eyes close as his lips caress along your jaw, kissing his way to your own slightly parted mouth.

"Was kinda hoping we could…?" He begins to suggest what you're desperate for and you answer by surging forward, your mouth smashing into his, your fingers carding through his thick dark hair, holding him to you and moaning as he catches up fast, his tongue sliding hotly against yours. You squeeze your legs around him, and Roy grunts low as the bulge of his hardening cock rubs at your core through the thin barrier of both pairs of your underwear. You briefly create some space so you can yank the lace down his thighs, his erection bobbing deliciously before you as he's released. You want him, want to feel him but he attacks your neck with his lips and teeth while maneuvering you to the edge of the countertop, one arm wrapped around your waist and the fingers of his other hand sliding up the inside of your soft thighs and trailing over the damp fabric between them.

He keeps teasing you like that, touching you but not actually touching you until you can't take it anymore, grabbing hold of his wrist and thrusting his hand under the waistband of your soaked panties. The moment his fingertips slide slickly over your clit it feels electric. Your forehead drops against his as he smirks at the state you're in, your breaths mingling as you spread your legs even wider to let him discover just what you like.

"Fuck baby, so damn wet," he marvels, encouraging your pretty moans and whimpers by dipping his two digits inside your tight walls and massaging his thumb in circles around your sensitive bud. "fucking dripping for me, beautiful. C'mon honey, let me make you feel good."

Your head flops backwards as he pumps and curls those long, thick fingers in a way that has you speedily racing to the edge. The higher, breathier pitch of your pleasured sounds has him wrapping the fingers of his free hand around your jaw and turning your head to make you face him.

"Wanna see that pretty face of yours, told you I wanna make you come and I want to see every damn second of it."

He kisses you deeply before pulling away to watch you quickly unravel by his hand, squeezing around his fast pumping fingers with a long moan of his name, so easy on your lips.

You cling around his neck until the last wave of your orgasm washes over you, leaving you hungrier, yearning for more.

"Alright, think we're even now, hm?" Roy remarks with a cheeky smirk as he slowly withdraws from your now ruined pants. After you quickly catch a bit of your breath you hop down off the counter, tugging him by the arm back towards your bedroom.

"Not by a long shot, Purver."

"Don't ya want breakfast?" He quips before you push him down hard on your bed, kicking off your panties and peeling off your shirt before you climb over him.

"All I want right now is you."

He watches you in awe, his hungry eyes roaming over your bare body, laying back preparing for you to do whatever the fuck you want to do to him. As you sit over his thighs you guide his hands up your warm skin encouraging him to fondle your breasts, he sits up so he's able to kiss and lick his way from one to the other, satisfied when he hears your little gasps and hums at the sensation of his hot mouth working on you. But you're impatient. You slam him back down on the mattress and shift forward, your slick pussy lips sliding over the thick base of his dick, your smile widening as Roy curses underneath you while you run your fingers down over the hard ridges of his chiseled abdomen.

"Jesus," he rasps as you eventually reach your destination, wrapping your fingers around his girth, giving him a few languid strokes. You trace the pad of your thumb over a prominent vein running the length of his cock and he throbs in your hand.

"Are you clean, Pulver? I feel I've got to check, when you have such a pretty face and dick like yours." You purr, stroking his balls then cupping them in your hand and giving a gentle squeeze that has him biting his lower lip between his teeth and arching under you.

"Oh god damn! I'll take that as a compliment. Yeah- yeah, I'm clean, baby, fucking sparkling actually. You?"

You nod as you don't hesitate to slide the tip of him between your folds to nudge the fat head of his cock at your entrance, both of you moaning in perfect unison as you sink down slowly, eager to feel every ridge of him sublimely caressing your inner walls. Seated deep within you he can feel you gripping him like a vice, so he does nothing but stroke his fingers up and down your arms and rest them at your waist until you're ready to move.

You're both completely sober but its as if the buzz of the previous night never went away, your gazes locked on each other as you start to fuck. You rise and fall on that class-A cock of his, already hopelessly addicted to the way he fills you, the way he's holding back and letting you go at your own selfish pace.

"Shiiit… feels- feels so good…" Your hands push down on his chest, fingers splayed out as you fuck yourself on him. "Roy-" you whine at him, "fucking move, please!"

"You got it princess." He grits through his teeth as he places his hands on your waist and starts rolling his hips up to meet you, letting you feel every fucking glorious inch of him. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, nails dragging down his chest until you've got him groaning half in pleasure and half in pain, digging them in and pinching at his nipples. He snaps his pelvis up in response, hitting a spot so deep inside that has you crying out for more, for something rougher, rawer. Roy scoops his big hands under your ass and starts fucking you even harder, bouncing you on his cock, spearing you with every piston-like thrust. The more you moan out the harder he goes, his intense gaze flickering back and forth between your eyes, your mouth, your tits and the mesmerising view of his cock disappearing inside your slick cunt.

"Fucking beautiful." He praises. You grab one of his hands, bringing it up to your mouth and sucking your lips around his fingers and thumb before you guide him between your legs to help you get off. You're so turned on already, so full of him that it doesn't take much more for you to near the edge, riding him faster as your body is inevitably taken over with the powerful throbbing pulse of orgasm.

Roy is watching in wonder as you let it take you over, giving you mere seconds warning that he's ready to spill every fucking drop he has, as if you're going to want him to pull out now.

"Give it to me," you hiss, your pussy walls still contracting around him as you ride out one high straight into another. He gasps as you lean down, skin pressed to skin as you keep undulating above him, switching his fingers on your clit for your own as he begins to lose rhythm.

"Fucking give it to me Roy… yes!"

He groans long and deep, his body buckling, fingers digging into your soft curves as he jolts several times, finishing hot inside you.

You roll off of him, face crinkling in confusion as you come back down. "Wait, what?"

"Fuuuck…" he pants, a sheen of sweat covering his broad chest as it rises and falls with you laying on top. "doesn't matter how many times we do this, shit… every fucking time you blow my damn mind."

He scrubs a hand over his face, wincing slightly. "Uhh, nothing baby. Just babbling. You got me good y'know?"

"No Roy come on, what do you mean 'every time'?"

[theloganator101]

Just read a fic praised by the MHA fandom as being 'anti Bakugou' and 'anti Endeavor' it is don't get me wrong but there is a part where the messaging becomes awful and the story goes downhill hard.

Aizawa confronts Shoto and Izu on some concerning behaviour they have shown because of their trauma. Then Izu tells him essentially 'Our situations are shit. You can't change mine or risk Bakugou becoming a villain. You can't change Todoroki's unless you want the HPSC after you for ruining Endeavor and having the public question heroes.'

In this fic, Aizawa hears this. Then literally just nods, agrees and decides to do nothing...

Like ignore the fact that the messaging to the reader is pure ass for a moment, what the fuck kind of teacher would react like that?!

Bakugou becoming a villain due to facing consequences of being an abusive shit? Let him. Being a villain would be HIS choice and for him to face the consequences of down the line. Besides he's not an AFO level threat, most heroes could K.O this fucker (especially Izuku which would be cathartic to read) if Hori weren't playing favorites.

The HPSC going after Aizawa for exposing Endeavor as a child abusing shit and the public questioning all heroes because of it? Well, if the HPSC are going to react like that instead of rightfully condemning Endeavor then they SHOULD be questioned. All heroes should be scrutinised because how many other heroes would have similarly got away with being child abusing shits with that logic? How is that a bad thing? In fact, if they did this it would take the wind out of Dabi because he wouldn't have SO MUCH of a valid point about Endeav not facing consequences for being a abuser.

God, the way Izuku and Todoroki in this are content sacrificing their childhoods on a pyre in this to protect these two abusive shits is so, SO sad. It's even sadder that the writer paints this as a noble choice instead of recognising it being a flawed one made by two traumatised children.

Then there is the fact that Aizawa LETS them instead of telling them, 'no you both deserve a happy childhood too' or 'no I will fight for you.' This paints him as an lazy and AWFUL teacher but also a AWFUL person point blank. The fic I don't believe did this intentionally because it isn't tagged Aizawa bashing which makes it worse...

Todoroki and Izuku's other friends and the other adults in their life also all try their best to cheer them up and fail because they don't have a clue what is going on. They also become noticeably sadder as a result which is just depressing.

Sorry for the rant, I'm just so depressed and angry now having read that and needed to vent somewhere.

I'm not the type to be a hater on someones work and I wanted to know your thoughts.

I... don't think I ever read this fic.

But from what you explained... yikes.

Why do these writers want to portray Bakugou becoming a villain as the worst possible outcome? Like I get and I'm all about giving people a chance to change for the better, but you also have take into context what that person has done and if they're WILLING to take that chance and actually WANT to change!

But from what we've seen of him, he never shows any signs of wanting to change for the better and just started holding back his brash behavior. In fact I'm even more convinced that once he's an adult, he'll just start putting a front for the public to make himself look good while concealing his true personality behind closed doors.

I think the only way to make Izuku saying this phrase work is if the story acknowledges what he's saying is wrong, have some of the characters point that out to him, and have one of the adults say something like this to him.

"If he ends up becoming a villain after this, then that's his decision. We'll be there to apprehend him and keep him from hurting anymore people."

Or you can make it into more like it's been ingrained in Izuku's mind that Bakugou is a strong fighter and that if he becomes a villain, than it's all over and no one can stop him. Only to be proven wrong when the news cover Bakugou's capture and how easy it was to take him down.

And as for the second part with Endeavor, god that logic is so fucking flawed...

Did the writer of that story NOT read through that or thought twice how that probably wouldn't make sense if the reader put two seconds into thinking about it? It wasn't like the HPSC was helping him conceal his abuse or anything, that was ENTIRELY on him!

And if he does end up being exposed? So what? They got plenty of heroes to spare and I'm sure they would want to save face to keep people from bashing on them for allowing such a person to be in a position of power.

Both Izuku and Shoto shouldn't have to sacrifice their childhoods to prop up and protect these horrible people in their lives, they both need to learn that people like that needs to be cut out from their lives. And even if they're changing, they aren't obligated to forgive them and keep them close... it won't make you a horrible person for choosing not to.

That's one of the problems I keep finding in this fandom, they have a black and white view on things that they think forgive and forget is the only best option and that choosing not to will make them into a horrible person for holding grudges.