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imyourbratzdoll · 8 months

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𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇…

hello! sorry for not posting anything in a while, I haven't had any motivation but this is an idea I've been thinking of for about a year now! I hope you all enjoy it.

summary - it's your first day working for the famous weatherman ari levinson, it turned out a lot better than you expected.

warning - smut, voyeurism, recording, daddy kink, choking, fingering, creampie, swearing, degrading, slut shaming, semi-public sex, powerplay.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You walk into the building, excitement building with each step. Your knee-length skirt rests tightly on your hips, cupping your arse wonderfully and your tucked-in, light purple blouse hugs your figure, barely containing your breasts from spilling out. Your heels click against the tile, and your heart squeezes inside your chest as you near the room. Your hand shook slightly as you reached for the handle, pushing the door open, your eyes widening as you took in the hustle. Everyone was moving fast, ensuring everything was getting done in time.

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on the infamous weatherman. The man every woman has wet dreams about, the man they’d happily get up early for just to see him on their screen. You watched as women fluttered around him, refreshing his make-up, to make him look perfect for the TV but that was impossible, he was already perfect enough. You felt your knickers dampen, slick gathering between your thighs, cunt throbbing as your eyes connected with his. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, you swear you were on the verge of a panic attack when he smirked, his eyes moving up and down your body slowly before he licked his lips. Ari Levinson was going to be the death of you and all womankind.

“Miss?” You blink, breaking eye contact with a god and shyly look at another man trying to get your attention. “Mr Levinson is ready for you. You will be training alongside him, so he said to meet him in the weather section.” You nod, happily but shyly follow along, keeping your head down so you don’t accidentally catch his eye again. The man stops in the area and shows you where you will be standing. A table is wheeled in and you grow confused, never seeing a table in this part of the news before.

“What is the table for, if it’s not too much to ask?” You stare at it curiously, tilting your head to the side.

The man shrugs before his hand flies to the earphone connected to his ear and he speaks to the person on the other side. He looks at you. “Mr Levinson will be here in a few seconds.” That’s all he says as he turns and leaves you to stand there by yourself. You look around, standing with your hands interlocked in front of you.

You are so busy looking down at your shoes, getting lost in your own world that you don’t notice the man himself has made his way over. His navy blue suit hugged his figure perfectly, his shoes shined, and his medium-length hair was combed and pushed out of his face. “Good morning, Miss L/N” You jump, looking up with wide eyes as you notice he’s neared, standing so close that you can practically smell his cologne. “It’s a pleasure to have you here.” He reaches forward, expecting a handshake.

You stumble, quickly slipping your hand into his, feeling a shiver rush through your body as you make contact, his hand so warm and large. “G–good morning, Mr Levinson! It’s a pleasure to be working with you!” You stutter, spurting out words as you peer up at him through your lashes. Your chest heaving as his blue eyes stare down at you. “I–uh…” You look between him and the table. “May I ask what the table is for? I’ve never seen you use it in one of your reports.” You gulp, hoping that you haven’t disappointed him immediately.

Ari smirks, his hand comes around and rests on your lower back, leading you over to the table in speaking. “I have something special planned for this one. You, my little costar. Will be my special guest.” He smiles down at you, something darker behind his eyes. You didn’t know, but the moment Ari had seen you in the interview, he knew he needed to have you any way he could and he planned something so naughty, so sexual that the whole world would talk about it. “You don’t mind, do you, sweetness?”

“N–no! I don’t mind at all, Mr Levinson! I am just honoured to be working with you! You see, I am a big fan!” You blink up at him, wondering how he could be even more perfect up close. “I will do anything to make this perfect!” Ari’s grin widens, and you shift as he continues to stare. “I–is there something on my face, Mister?”

Ari shakes his head and moves away from you, he runs his hand through his hair and gets in position. “No, sweetness. Now, be a good girl and stand behind the table for me.” He gestures, watching with lustful eyes as you obey immediately. He holds back a groan as his gaze falls to your arse, loving how the skirt hugs it so perfectly. Ari blinks and his face becomes straight, his eyes move from your plump arse to the cameraman, and he gives a slight nod, showing that he is ready. Once he gets the signal, he begins. “Good morning everyone! I am your weatherman Ari Levinson and I have a special guest with me today! Please welcome, Miss Y/n L/n!”

You smile shyly, giving a small wave and you feel your body heat up as Ari takes a step closer to you, brushing up against you. “H–hi!” You clear your throat and straighten your back, wanting to be seen as a professional instead of some shy little girl.

Ari’s hand brushes against your hip, and you swallow down the whimper that threatens to escape. A giddy geek by the name of Jake Jensen stands behind the camera, anticipating what's to come. He was amazed at how Ari could work his looks and money, being able to persuade everyone in the building to leave to let him do the weather announcement without them. He trusts his good friend to stream this live video to the house filled with the other group of friends. All the men gather around the couch, waiting for his friend to bless them with a good show.

Ari presses against you, his bulge resting between your plump cheeks and you let out a small whine. “Why don’t you tell our audience what the weather will be like today, okay, sweetness?” You gulp, blinking a few times as you try and pull yourself back from the fuzziness. His hand comes up and he strokes your cheek with his knuckles, “You there, sweetness?”

You nod, sighing softly. “Y–yes, I’m here. Uh, the weather today is said to be cloudy with a–a…” You stop, eyes widening when you feel Ari begin to grind against you, his hand sliding to the front of you, slowly pulling your skirt up.

He leans forward, whispering in your ear. “Keep going, You wouldn’t want to lose your job on your first day, now would you?”

You immediately shake your head, continuing as he connects with your bare cunt, groaning when he realises you’ve been walking around wearing nothing underneath. “With a chance of rain…” You clear your throat, biting hard on your bottom lip when his finger brushes against your soft, glistening cunt. A squeal escapes you when you are suddenly bent forward, your chest flush against the cold table, nipples hardening and slick gathers between your thighs. “W–what, what are you doing, Mr Levinson?” You whimper, feeling him grind into you.

“Shh, sweetness. This is what’s so special about this one. You should’ve known that I wouldn’t let someone like you slip from my grasp. I had to have you, and so do my friends.” He leans over you, your body practically disappearing with his large build, and Ari looks directly into the camera. “Say hi to them sweetness.” His other hand slides up and tightens around your throat, squeezing when you don’t obey. “I said, say hi to them. Don’t be a disobedient slut.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a whine passing your lips as he continues to rub your swollen clit. “H–hi, Mr Levinson’s friends!” Your mind felt cloudy, never having felt this much pleasure before. “W–what are you going to do, Mr Levinson?” Your arse pushes back against him as his fingers slip into your hole, pumping fast and hard, curling them into that sweet spot you’ve never been able to reach.

“Call me Daddy, sweetness, and don’t even worry your pretty little head about what I’m going to do.” His cock throbs in his slacks, hardening and straining against the material. Ari presses harder against you, fucking you with his fingers and groaning as you tighten around them. You whine as Ari pulls his fingers out of you, and your orgasm which had been close to the edge, fades away. “You don’t get to cum, sweetness, unless it’s around my cock. You wanna cum on Daddy’s cock?”

You nod rapidly, grinding yourself against him, wanting him buried deep inside of you. “Yes! Please, Daddy, I wanna cum on your cock!” You gasp as his hand moves from your throat, his thumb rests on your plump bottom lip and a groan slips from Ari as you immediately wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking and licking, eyes dazed as his taste fills your mouth.

Ari lifts the fingers that were inside you to his face and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. “Taste so good, sweetness. I can’t wait to be buried between these thighs.” He reaches down, slowly pulling out his thickened cock, smirking as you whine and wiggle in anticipation. “But, I won’t today. I’ll save that for another day. For now, sweetness. You need to be patient, I’ll fuck you in a second.” He growls, smacking your arse, and his cock twitches as he watches it jiggle.

“P–please, Daddy! I’ll be good, please fuck me!” You whimper, pushing your arse against his throbbing cock, and your skirt now rests above your hips. Ari slowly strokes his cock, tapping his leaking tip against your glistening folds, rubbing it through until his head gets caught on your entrance.

“It’s okay, sweetness. Daddy will fuck you now.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head and a strained moan escapes you when he begins to push in, stretching your walls. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, sweetness. I’m never letting you go after this, oh– You’re squeezing my cock so well.” Ari grunts, thrusting fully into your cunt, gripping your hips as he begins to fuck you hard and fast, becoming feral the more his cock drives into you. “Feel good, sweetness?”

“Uh huh, uh huh! So good, so full!” You scream, gripping the table as your body moves up and down with each thrust. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Your moans echo throughout the room, your walls tighten around his thick member, and for the first time in your life, your toes curl. The men watching groan, pants tightened as their cocks strain against them. Your knuckles grow white as you grip harder, feeling your walls pulsate around Ari.

“Jesus, fuck! Sweetness, if you continue to squeeze me like that, I’ll finish inside you.” Ari groans as you squeeze him tighter at his words, the thought of him pumping you full causes your whole body to go crazy. “You’re such a slut, sweetness. Your first day on the job and you are already sleeping with your boss while his friends watch. You know how much of a whore that makes you? I bet you want them to be here, passing you around and using you.” You let out a pornographic moan at the thought, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock begins to pound into your sweet spot.

“Daddy, I’m cumming! Please let me cum! Can I cum, please?!” You cry out, thrusting your hips back against him, wanting to feel him deeper. Your head feels fuzzy, eyes cloudy and the core inside of you tightens. “Please, please!”

Ari grips your hips tightly, pounding faster and harder, feeling his orgasm approaching rapidly. “Cum for me, sweetness. Milk my cock.” He growls in your ear as he leans forward, fucking you deeper. “C’mon be a good girl and show my friends how well you obey orders.” Your mouth falls open into a silent scream, your walls pulsate like crazy and your juices squirt out of you, coating Ari’s cock with white cream. You sigh, planting your face onto the table as he continues to fuck you. “Fuck, that was so fucking hot, sweetness!”

Ari holds you tighter, hard enough to leave bruises on your soft flesh. “I’m going to pump you full, sweetness, and then carry you home to my friends so they can all have a turn with your sweet body.” He whispers into your ear, grunting as he feels his balls tighten, cock twitching and throbbing before thick spurts of cum shoot out of his thick mushroom tip and into you, filling you to the brim, coating your walls. “Jesus, you feel so good, sweetness. Let’s see how pretty your cunt looks filled with my cum.” Ari groans and you whine as he slowly pulls his softened cock out of your used hole, and squats down. “Oh, sweetness. She’s so beautiful!”

You whimper as his finger connects with your puffy clit, rubbing it gently before he moves down and spreads your lips apart. A groan slips from his lips as he watches his cum slowly begin to leak out of your hole. You gasp as Ari slowly pushes a finger into your hole, pushing his cum back into you, deeper. “You know what the best part of this will be, sweetness?”

You hum, too fucked out to understand. “The fact that you aren’t wearing any knickers, means you’ll be walking out of here with my cum dripping down your thigh.” You let out a little whine, wiggling against him as he continues to finger his cum back into you. Ari stands, straightening his back as he tucks himself back into his slacks and ensures his suit looks perfect. “I hope you had a good show, boys. Now, sweetness. Let’s get you dressed so that I can introduce you to my friends.”

“I’m so tired…” You mumble, nuzzling your face into his neck when he stands you up and spins you around, giving everyone a view of your arse before Jake turns the camera off. Ari grins, pulling your skirt down gently to cover your gorgeous legs. One hand rests on your hip while the other comes up and fixes your shirt. You slowly pull away from his neck and blink tiredly up at him, feeling all tingly and sore between your legs, having never taken someone so large before. “So pretty.”

Ari smiles, tucking a strand of hair that’s come loose behind your ear. “Thank you, sweetness. You’re the most beautiful woman that’s walked this Earth.” His eyes fall to your plump lips, wondering what it would feel like to feel them against his. This man had taken you, yet not once had he stolen a kiss. Your eyes follow suit, flickering down to his lips, willing him to kiss you. A gasp leaves your lips when Ari leans down, holding your chin between his thumb and finger and kisses you, swallowing the soft sounds that escape you. Your hands clutch onto his suit jacket, holding him close to you as your lips move in unison, his taste is so delicious and magical.

You whimper when he pulls away, his and your eyes flutter open and you stare at each other for a short while before you stumble, your mind cloudy from the kiss and legs feel like jelly and Ari smirks. “Why don’t I carry you out, sweetness? It looks like I did a good job, just wait until you get to my house.” You whine at the thought of being filled by multiple different cocks. Ari leans slightly and grabs your thighs, he lifts you and wraps your legs around his hips. “Are you ready, sweetness?”

You nod, nuzzling into him more. “I’m ready.”

With those words, you are off. He carries you out to your new future, one where you will no longer have to work and be worshipped by many men. Fate had a funny way of getting you to meet your soulmates, and a certain cameraman by the name of Jake Jensen was known as a geek, being smart enough to know everything about tech. Except today, he had been so invested in you and your beauty that he didn’t notice he accidentally switched the live recording to broadcast to the world instead of just his buddies.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 7 months

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Cure [Sex Pollen Trope]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x AFAB Reader x Frank Castle

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sex Pollen Situation 1. A fictional substance that makes the characters experience unbearable pain if they don't fuck. "You, Bucky, and Frank are exposed to a strange chemical in an abandoned Hydra warehouse. And there's only one way to make the effects wear off faster."

Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). No use of Y/N. AFAB Reader. Implied sexual assault of and by Bucky during his time as the Winter Soldier. Implied past/current casual sexual relationships between the Reader/Bucky and Reader/Frank. All the dubious consent circumstances that come with sex pollen. Unprotected P in V, threesome, breeding kink, creampies, multiple orgasms, pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart, honey).

WC: 3,200

A/N: Trope de Sept order got a little shuffle. Don't worry, everything is still coming, I just wanted to space out characters, fic types, etc. now that I have a better idea of what the rest of the fics will be.

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

How you and Bucky managed to get separated from the rest of the team, you weren’t sure.

The Hydra base was recently abandoned. Tipped off that the Avengers were on their way, they scrambled to make their escape, leaving miscellaneous papers, weapons, and other evidence of guilt behind.

You certainly weren’t going to take anyone in on this, but at least you’d have some clues that could maybe point to where they’d be next.

You and Bucky made your way into some kind of lab, the rest of the team raiding other areas of the base. Coms were down, but you weren’t too concerned as there seemed to be no threat that required back up. Hydra left this place abandoned and disheveled due to their hastened exit.

“Shit. There’s no one here.” Bucky lamented, sending a set of empty beakers crashing to the floor in frustration

“Not no one, but sure as shit ain’t Hydra.” a gravelly voice cut through the darkness of the lab

You and Bucky turned to the source; a tall figure attached to dusty combat boots, vest dripping with white paint smears and long-ago dried blood splatters. He wore a scowl on his tired face, a bruise covering the left side of his jaw, and had a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Castle.” Bucky nodded toward him

“Barnes. Sweetheart.” he nodded back to the two of you

“I’m sorry– sweetheart? How do you two…” Bucky asked, pointing between you and Frank.

“Remember when you said I should get a hobby? You know when weeks go by and there are no missions?” you said

“I meant like, take up pickleball or crocheting; not get sexually involved with vigilantes.”

“Hey, hey!” Frank rebutted

“Woah!” you also interrupted Bucky’s implication “Who said anything about me sleeping with him? No, I started taking on some– let’s just call them personal cases outside of work. You know, using my powers to be the everyman's hero. I run into Frank on rooftops sometimes.”

“So your hobby is being a superhero, when you’re not at work being a superhero?”

“I mean sometimes we also sleep with each other.” Frank added

Frank was lucky your powers didn’t involve laser vision, or else he’d be burnt to a crisp by the way you glared at him.

“Really, doll? Castle?”

“You know what Bucky, I don’t need judgment from someone who's dating pool includes all four of the Golden Girls. Wait, how do you two know each other?” you motioned between him and Frank

“A mutual friend of ours, Curtis Hoyle, runs a veterans therapy group once a week. It usually also turns into a poker game at my place afterwards.”

“Wilson joins sometimes too.” Frank added

“Didn’t think this was your scene, Castle,” Bucky said, bringing the subject back to the mission “Thought you worked alone. You’re not thinking of joining up are you?”

Frank scoffed. “Nah. Following a lead. Led me here.”

“To a world wide terrorist orginization’s base?”

“You’d be surprised how many of the street level scumbags I chase down are involved in shit like this.”

“So you came here to go all Punisher on them?”

Frank raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Sure, the Avengers have been playing whack-a-mole with them for years, but the vigilante with a rage problem and a bunch of guns is gonna do it.” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“Fairness to me, didn’t know just what this place was til I got here.”

Bucky let out a deep exhale. He glanced between you and Frank, before returning his focus to the abandoned lab around you.

“Well you’re here now, might as well make yourself useful.”

The three of you looked high and low through the lab and turned up nothing of real value that could even be a glimmer of a lead on what Hydra was planning next or where they had scurried off to.

Bucky used his vibranium arm to bust open the door of a locked walk-in freezer, the last place it seemed you hadn’t searched.

Various test tubes and bags of medical supplies sat on the shelves, some full of odd looking substances, others spilled over and shattered from Hydra’s escape efforts.

Frank walked up to a shelf containing vials of cherry-colored liquid, picking one up in his large hand and examining it curiously.

“Don't touch that!” Bucky exclaimed, lunging forward just as Frank turned his head

Their bodies collided, sending the glass canister spinning into the air and crashing down to the ground. The red substance splashed all over the concrete floor and tiny fragments of glass flew in every direction.

“Castle, please tell me you didn’t just do that.”

“The hell you mean, me? You’re the one who pushed me!” Frank argued back

Bucky’s panic stricken gaze met yours and you had never seen fear quite like this in his eyes.

“Don't breathe.” he commanded

“What do you mean don’t breathe?” you asked, shaking off some of the liquid that splattered on your boot

“Oh god, no no no. It’s too late. We’ve all already been exposed.” Bucky lamented, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands.

“Bucky, what is that stuff? What is going on?”

“It’s a serum.”

“Like a super soldier serum?”

“Yes. But also no. This one’s effects are temporary. And highly potent. And very airborne.”

“Airborne. Like we all just breathed it in?”

“Yep.” he confirmed

“So what does it do? What’s gonna happen to us?” you asked, panic rising in your chest

“When I was theirs,” he motioned to the room around you, implying his time as Hydra’s prisoner “They realized all their sick experiments finally worked on me and they wanted more super soldiers, to replicate what they’d created in my bloodstream. The problem was, this was right around the time Dr. Zola got captured and arrested by the team that would become Shield.”

You glanced up and down the shelves once more, hoping something in here could be used for first aid in treating whatever the hell was about to happen to the three of you.

“So without their best scientist, no matter how many liters of my blood they took and tried to recreate the serum with, they couldn’t. In a last ditch attempt, they thought maybe it could be transferred genetically, They thought maybe they could use me to breed more supersoldiers.”

Your attention snapped back to Bucky.

“Breed? Wait, so they made you…? Oh my god, with who?!” you asked in horror as Bucky revealed yet another disturbing detail of his past

“Usually volunteers for Hydra’s cause. Sometimes other prisoners; women they also had been doing experiments on.”

“That’s disgusting.” you commented

“Believe me, I’m aware.”

“But what does that have to do with that stuff?” Frank motioned to the mess still splattered on the floor

“Zola’s prodigy, a real peach of a human named Dr. Whitehall, wanted to ensure the maximum possibility my DNA would take and the women participants would be as fertile as possible. I mean, after all this shit they did to me before, they thought maybe my swimmers would be pretty fried and they could create something to remedy that. So that stuff is a concoction he created in the 70s, basically it enhances all sexual urges to their most primal instinct, so those exposed are inclined to reproduce.”

“So it’s horny juice?” Frank asked

“Eloquent as always Castle, but yes. I’d say we have about ten more minutes before it kicks in. Once it does, it’s really painful until it’s out of your system or until you act on what it wants you to.” he turned to you “Okay here’s what’s gonna happen– Doll, you’re gonna go outside and lock Frank and me in this freezer so you’ll be safe from us.”

“Safe from you? What do you mean?”

“This stuff, it kinda alters your self control for a while. Like I said, it makes you run more on instinct, especially when the painful side effects hit. Once it starts kicking in, we’ll do anything to get rid of the pain. Frank and I won’t be able to resist you and you won’t be up for putting up much of a fight either. Get somewhere where our coms will work again and radio to the team, have them get you to Banner’s lab immediately. He might be able to concoct something to ease your symptoms for a few days.”

“A few days?!”

“Well it fades faster if you… ya know. But if you don’t, it could take a while to move through your system.”

“What about the two of you?”

“We’ll just have to… take care of ourselves here.” he said, making lewd gesture with his hand “Won’t be as efficient as the real thing, but it’ll help.”

“I’m not gonna leave the two of you to just jack off and suffer.”

“Sweetheart, we’ll be fine. Just worry about you.” Frank chimed in, agreeing with Bucky

“If the solution is to… you know fuck it out. I mean shit, it’s nothing I haven’t already done with either of you.”

“Excuse me?” Frank inquired, now the one whipping his head to look between the two of you

“Remember in group a couple months ago when I said I got casually involved with a coworker, but broke it off cause it was getting in the way of our work? Well...” Bucky gestured towards you

“Unbelievable.” Frank grumbled with a shake of his head

You sat on the floor across from Bucky, tac suit suddenly feeling a bit too tight and itchy against your skin.

“This freezer we’re in… it’s still on right?” you asked

“Yeah.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m gonna combust at any minute?”

“It’s the serum. Shit, it’s already taking effect.” Bucky rushed over and crouched down beside you “Doll, you sure you don’t want to get out of here?”

“No. I want to stay. I want to help both of you and I don’t want to go through this alone either.” you said, unzipping your jacket and tossing it across the room without a thought, “Jesus it feels like my blood is on fire.”

You fanned yourself with your hands to no avail. This must have been how your mother felt during your teenage years when she’d lament about hot flashes.

Suddenly, you understood what Bucky meant by pain all over your body. It started small, almost like a needle prick, near your abdomen, but rapidly spread like ink on wet parchment.

Evidence that they were both starting to feel it too was showing; the way Frank’s brows were scrunched and how he was keeled over, hands on his knees with white knuckles gripping at his jeans. Bucky’s supersoldier powers combined with his previous exposures to this substance, he seemed reasonably calm compared to the two of you. His blue eyes were glazed over in a vacant stare as he sat on the ground across from you. Sweat droplets were beginning to form on his unusually pale skin.

“P–please” you begged to both of them, pain suddenly unbearable as you pushed your pelvis off the floor, trying to find relief with friction against nothing.

You reached out to Bucky, but he shook his head no.

“Take care of Frank first.” he lulled his head to look at you “I’m more resistant to it’s effects. I’ll be fine for a while.”

“How many times do we have to… you know, to get it out of our systems?” you asked, still writhing your body against the air.

“As many times as it takes.” Bucky said

“Frankie” you reached a hand forward, beckoning him towards you.

He stumbled as he crossed the room, still slouched over slightly as he walked.

Frank’s cock was obviously strained against his jeans as he crouched down in front of you, deep brown eyes meeting your gaze.

“Sweetheart, you sure?” he asked once more, resistance to the serum fading quickly as he ran the back of two fingers down your arm, stroking you in reassurance.

As soon as his hand brushed your skin, icy relief washed over you, sending goosebumps along your flesh. You had the irresistible urge to press more of his skin against yours, to be as close to him as possible to quell the heat still bubbling beneath the surface.

All you could do was nod in response as you lunged forward, rubbing your hand along the bulge in his pants. Frank whined, a sound you’d never heard him make in the times you’d fallen into bed together, before crashing his lips against yours.

His kisses were fiery, full of tongue and teeth, like he just couldn’t drink enough of you in. Usually so patient and tender in bed, his large hands were now clawing at you, desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as he could.

He tugged off your boots in one motion, allowing you to shimmy your pants down your body. Both of your shirts were quickly discarded as well. Fumbling to unbutton his jeans and push them down, Frank let out a relieved sigh as he finally freed his aching cock. The cool air from the freezer hit your sopping cunt, refreshing as another wave of heat rolled through your body as the serum was now fully in control.

You glanced over to Bucky as Frank laid you down on the hard concrete floor. His eyes were squeezed shut in a mixture of pain and pleasure, flesh hand down his pants stroking himself to quell the growing anguish as he listened to you and Frank.

“Goddamnit doll, I can smell you.” His breathing was labored as he spoke.

Frank reached down, running a trembling finger through your folds.

“Shit Barnes, of course you can, she’s soaked.”

“P– please Frank” You begged again as Frank touched you where you needed him most, the action unknowingly teasing you into more pain.

“Shhh shh shh sweetheart. I know. It’s hurting me too. I’ll take care of you.” Frank reassured, sliding two fingers into you effortlessly

A strained sob slipped from you as he pumped in and out of you, relieved at the sensation but still in so much agony from not getting what you really needed.

“I think you’re ready.” he commented, barely restraining himself from just taking you roughly

You reached for his shoulders, guiding him fully on top of you. As he lowered himself he slid inside you in one motion, sinking all the way in easily. The serum didn’t allow him any pause, hips immediately snapping in and out with rough thrusts, primal need taking full control. His ample length repeatedly hit that perfect spingey spot inside you, causing you to cry out.

God the sounds in the room were downright sinful. Frank, who had been incredibly verbal during your previous trists, now reduced to only groans and grunts being swallowed by your sloppily placed kisses. Bucky’s lewd moans echoed off the walls and combined with the sound of skin slapping and your mewling. The vulgar symphony only spurred you on. Your peak hit you surprisingly quickly, though you attributed that to the foreign chemical invading your system.

It was like no other orgasm you’d ever had, like those viral videos of a firework finale all accidentally exploding at once. It felt endless, like you’d just be there cumming on the floor for the rest of your life.

“Shit honey, keep squeezing me just like that.” Frank finally found his words, climbing his own summit to relief. His large hand gripped at your jaw, steadying you beneath him as his movements became more erratic, an improvised drum solo of a brutal pace.

His dark eyes met yours, pupils blown out as he watched you come apart beneath him once more. Another overwhelming orgasm washed over you, more intense than the last.

That was enough to drag Frank over the edge with you. He pulsed deep inside you, filling you to the brim so much that you could feel it running down your legs before he even pulled back.

“Goddamnit.” he groaned into your shoulder

Sprawled out on the floor, you were an absolute mess of your own slick and sweat and Frank’s cum, but you didn’t care. You still direly needed more relief and knew Bucky must’ve been in total agony by this point; listening and watching you and Frank go at it.

“How you doing sweetheart?” Frank asked as he rolled off you, now a little more clarity that he’d gotten one orgasm out. You could still see the strained muscles in his neck, his skin still a shade of red as his lust was not yet fully satiated.

“Better. Still hurts a little but much more bearable. Bucky, you ready to take over?”

He was slumped against the wall, eyes still squeezed shut. His jacket and shirt were gone and his pants were undone. But he’d given up on touching himself, knowing it wouldn’t soothe his suffering in the way he needed. You crawled across the floor toward him.

“Hey Buck? Eyes on me baby.”

His eyes snapped open and looked at you, full of desperation and pity.

“Let me help, yeah?” you spoke sweetly

He nodded, watching limply as you fumbled with his fly and exposed his throbbing length.

A switch seemed to flip inside him as you straddled him and sank down, coming alive with an animalistic fervor as you rocked your hips slowly. He let out a hearty exhale feeling your velvety walls all the way down his cock, finally alleviating the anguish he’d been trying so hard to conceal.

Every sensation in your body was amplified, every touch of Bucky’s skin against yours was exquisite, every caress of his metal arm up and down your back shot like lightning striking straight to your core. You could feel every ridge of his cock, every thrust, every exhale. Overwhelmed by it all, you collapsed against his shoulder, letting him take the reins as he began to pitch himself up into you. How different he was too in this circumstance than the times previously you’d had him. Long languid strokes to ensure you’d feel it all long forgotten in favor of dragging you down by the hips over and over to meet his pace, every slam punctuated by lust and fury. Muttering ‘oh god’ and ‘yes baby please’ into your ear.

A soft caress brushed along the back of your neck, Frank kneeling behind you placing tender, open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder blades as you and Bucky fucked it out. The urge must’ve been building in him again because his hands were all over you and soon enough you weren’t sure whose grasp was where, only vaguely aware because Bucky’s vibranium touch was cool and calm amongst the heightened temperature of your sweaty skin.

Your orgasm with Bucky blossomed, rising from deep within your core and spreading like wings in the breeze. You cried into his shoulder as he did not relent in his pace, pulling your pelvises flush as he came inside you with a carnal moan.

But you still weren’t satiated and you could tell neither were they. Fuck, this was gonna be a long night.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #frank castle x reader #frank castle #jon bernthal #trope de sept #sex pollen #bucky x you #frank castle x you #imagine #bucky barnes x you x frank castle

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starsworldd · 1 year

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➴ astro observations pt 4 ➶

reminder to go listen to domino 1 by iamsagsssssss out on all platforms now <3 (i know the artist very well i promise it’s good ⭐️

remember to please take the following with a grain of salt ⭐️

⥺ mars conjunct mc people are very hard workers but are often met with conflicts with people at work also. could be business entrepreneurs

⥺ people who have moon sextile venus are very kind and endearing <3

⥺ scorpio mercuries often hide weird stuff (doesn’t have to be innapropiate but it’s just weird and odd) on their phones and more than other people don’t show people their photos, social media, texts, etc…

⥺ mercury conjunct uranus people are some smart people let me tell you. i find that they’re often pretty witty and good with defending themselves in arguments too!

⥺ sun in 6th house people get burnt out really easily but moon in 6th house people seem to be working 24/7 and seem unbothered by it?? maybe they just hide it better. moon in 6th house people are also really smart. i want to look more into that though, because moon and sun are both luminaries so you’d think they’d both get pretty burnt out being in the 6th house of daily work and service…

⥺ the 8th-9th-10th houses i think explain how one finds their purpose in life and their calling. of course all the houses are involved in this because a chart works as a whole story, but i want to focus specifically on these 3 houses: we start at the 8th house of trauma and transformation. 8th house transits usually signify a new beginning (though it usually doesn’t come without trouble and hardship) and it is in the 9th house that we find what we can do to help ourselves out of hardship. what do we believe in? what do i learn out of this difficult time? what experiences can i engage with that help me be a better me? pluto (ruling the 8th house) is the ruler of the underworld and from there we literally go to the king of the heavens (jupiter, ruler of 9th house) to one’s calling in life, signified by the 10th house. it is through one’s hardships and main battles (8th house) that can show us how we can put our best selves out into the world (10th house). sorry to rant, i just think this is so cool to point out! if you guys want i can make a post for the rising signs on this topic ⭐️

⥺ pisces venus people are obsessive over their crushes

⥺ venus conjunct saturn natives may not be that interested or rushed into getting into serious partnerships, in fact they seem to not prefer it, usually due to a past experience unfortunately :(

⥺ does anyone else get their period when the moon crosses their ascendant? just me? okay☺️

⥺ aries sun people are so attractive

⥺ people usually say that musicians with the same moon sign as you resonate with you more, but, this is kind of an iffy observation BUT, artists with their moon in your fourth house may also seem to make music you really like as well or you may just like them in general

⥺ cancer risings having an aries midheaven meaning that their life’s ambition is about defining themselves and being themselves unapologetically <3

⥺ people with venus in a detriment sign are often really attractive (aries, scorpio)

⥺ cancer and leo risings have a natural almost child-like glow to them. also really attractive placement in my opinion

⥺ scorpio risings and mars are often perceived as mean and intimidating. same for moons (unless if there’s aspects to venus i’ve noticed)

⥺ mars in gemini 🤝 over-competitive in games (especially games to do with the hands like spit, word hunt, certain sports, etc..)

⥺ moon conjunct jupiter people are so wholesome. they have very good morals and care deeply for the well-being of others. such a lovely placement <3

⥺ bucket-shaped chart is giving “you have all this pizazz and potential but…(insert planet here) is giving you some obstacles”

⥺ moon square neptune could be an indicator of a parent who struggles with alcoholic or drug addiction

⥺ chart ruler square neptune can give poor perception as to how you’re perceived by others or anxieties about it

thank you for reading! hope you’re well ! ⭐️

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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Better failure for social media

Content moderation is fundamentally about making social media work better, but there are two other considerations that determine how social media fails: end-to-end (E2E), and freedom of exit. These are much neglected, and that’s a pity, because how a system fails is every bit as important as how it works.

Of course, commercial social media sites don’t want to be good, they want to be profitable. The unique dynamics of social media allow the companies to uncouple quality from profit, and more’s the pity.

Social media grows thanks to network effects — you join Twitter to hang out with the people who are there, and then other people join to hang out with you. The more users Twitter accumulates, the more users it can accumulate. But social media sites stay big thanks to high switching costs: the more you have to give up to leave a social media site, the harder it is to go:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

Nature bequeaths some in-built switching costs on social media, primarily the coordination problem of reaching consensus on where you and the people in your community should go next. The more friends you share a social media platform with, the higher these costs are. If you’ve ever tried to get ten friends to agree on where to go for dinner, you know how this works. Now imagine trying to get all your friends to agree on where to go for dinner, for the rest of their lives!

But these costs aren’t insurmountable. Network effects, after all, are a double-edged sword. Some users are above-average draws for others, and if a critical mass of these important nodes in the network map depart for a new service — like, say, Mastodon — that service becomes the presumptive successor to the existing giants.

When that happens — when Mastodon becomes “the place we’ll all go when Twitter finally becomes unbearable” — the downsides of network effects kick in and the double-edged sword begins to carve away at a service’s user-base. It’s one thing to argue about which restaurant we should go to tonight, it’s another to ask whether we should join our friends at the new restaurant where they’re already eating.

Social media sites who want to keep their users’ business walk a fine line: they can simply treat those users well, showing them the things they ask to see, not spying on them, paying to police their service to reduce harassment, etc. But these are costly choices: if you show users the things they ask to see, you can’t charge businesses to show them things they don’t want to see. If you don’t spy on users, you can’t sell targeting services to people who want to force them to look at things they’re uninterested in. Every moderator you pay to reduce harassment draws a salary at the expense of your shareholders, and every catastrophe that moderator prevents is a catastrophe you can’t turn into monetizable attention as gawking users flock to it.

So social media sites are always trying to optimize their mistreatment of users, mistreating them (and thus profiting from them) right up to the point where they are ready to switch, but without actually pushing them over the edge.

One way to keep dissatisfied users from leaving is by extracting a penalty from them for their disloyalty. You can lock in their data, their social relationships, or, if they’re “creators” (and disproportionately likely to be key network nodes whose defection to a rival triggers mass departures from their fans), you can take their audiences hostage.

The dominant social media firms all practice a low-grade, tacit form of hostage-taking. Facebook downranks content that links to other sites on the internet. Instagram prohibits links in posts, limiting creators to “Links in bio.” Tiktok doesn’t even allow links. All of this serves as a brake on high-follower users who seek to migrate their audiences to better platforms.

But these strategies are unstable. When a platform becomes worse for users (say, because it mandates nonconsensual surveillance and ramps up advertising), they may actively seek out other places on which to follow each other, and the creators they enjoy. When a rival platform emerges as the presumptive successor to an incumbent, users no longer face the friction of knowing which rival they should resettle to.

When platforms’ enshittification strategies overshoot this way, users flee in droves, and then it’s time for the desperate platform managers to abandon the pretense of providing a public square. Yesterday, Elon Musk’s Twitter rolled out a policy prohibiting users from posting links to rival platforms:

https://web.archive.org/web/20221218173806/https://help.twitter.com/en/rules-and-policies/social-platforms-policy

This policy was explicitly aimed at preventing users from telling each other where they could be found after they leave Twitter:

https://web.archive.org/web/20221219015355/https://twitter.com/TwitterSupport/status/1604531261791522817

This, in turn, was a response to many users posting regular messages explaining why they were leaving Twitter and how they could be found on other platforms. In particular, Twitter management was concerned with departures by high-follower users like Taylor Lorenz, who was retroactively punished for violating the policy, though it didn’t exist when she violated it:

https://deadline.com/2022/12/washington-post-journalist-taylor-lorenz-suspended-twitter-1235202034/

As Elon Musk wrote last spring: “The acid test for two competing socioeconomic systems is which side needs to build a wall to keep people from escaping? That’s the bad one!”

https://twitter.com/elonmusk/status/1533616384747442176

This isn’t particularly insightful. It’s obvious that any system that requires high walls and punishments to stay in business isn’t serving its users, whose presence is attributable to coercion, not fulfillment. Of course, the people who operate these systems have all manner of rationalizations for them.

The Berlin Wall, we were told, wasn’t there to keep East Germans in — rather, it was there to keep the teeming hordes clamoring to live in the workers’ paradise out. In the same way, platforms will claim that they’re not blocking outlinks or sideloading because they want to prevent users from defecting to a competitor, but rather, to protect those users from external threats.

This rationalization quickly wears thin, and then new ones step in. For example, you might claim that telling your friends that you’re leaving and asking them to meet you elsewhere is like “giv[ing] a talk for a corporation [and] promot[ing] other corporations”:

https://mobile.twitter.com/mayemusk/status/1604550452447690752

Or you might claim that it’s like “running Wendy’s ads [on] McDonalds property,” rather than turning to your friends and saying, “The food at McDonalds sucks, let’s go eat at Wendy’s instead”:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1604559316237037568

The truth is that any service that won’t let you leave isn’t in the business of serving you, it’s in the business of harming you. The only reason to build a wall around your service — to impose any switching costs on users- is so that you can fuck them over without risking their departure.

The platforms want to be Anatevka, and we the villagers of Fiddler On the Roof, stuck plodding the muddy, Cossack-haunted roads by the threat of losing all our friends if we try to leave:

https://doctorow.medium.com/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms-9fc550fe5abf

That’s where freedom of exit comes in. The public should have the right to leave, and companies should not be permitted to make that departure burdensome. Any burdens we permit companies to impose is an invitation to abuse of their users.

This is why governments are handing down new interoperability mandates: the EU’s Digital Markets Act forces the largest companies to offer APIs so that smaller rivals can plug into them and let users walkaway from Big Tech into new kinds of platforms — small businesses, co-ops, nonprofits, hobby sites — that treat them better. These small players are overwhelmingly part of the fediverse: the federated social media sites that allow users to connect to one another irrespective of which server or service they use.

The creators of these platforms have pledged themselves to freedom of exit. Mastodon ships with a “Move Followers” and “Move Following” feature that lets you quit one server and set up shop on another, without losing any of the accounts you follow or the accounts that follow you:

https://codingitwrong.com/2022/10/10/migrating-a-mastodon-account.html

This feature is as yet obscure, because the exodus to Mastodon is still young. Users who flocked to servers without knowing much about their managers have, by and large, not yet run into problems with the site operators. The early trickle of horror stories about petty authoritarianism from Mastodon sysops conspicuously fail to mention that if the management of a particular instance turns tyrant, you can click two links, export your whole social graph, sign up for a rival, click two more links and be back at it.

This feature will become more prominent, because there is nothing about running a Mastodon server that means that you are good at running a Mastodon server. Elon Musk isn’t an evil genius — he’s an ordinary mediocrity who lucked into a lot of power and very little accountability. Some Mastodon operators will have Musk-like tendencies that they will unleash on their users, and the difference will be that those users can click two links and move elsewhere. Bye-eee!

Freedom of exit isn’t just a matter of the human right of movement, it’s also a labor issue. Online creators constitute a serious draw for social media services. All things being equal, these services would rather coerce creators’ participation — by holding their audiences hostage — than persuade creators to remain by offering them an honest chance to ply their trade.

Platforms have a variety of strategies for chaining creators to their services: in addition to making it harder for creators to coordinate with their audiences in a mass departure, platforms can use DRM, as Audible does, to prevent creators’ customers from moving the media they purchase to a rival’s app or player.

Then there’s “freedom of reach”: platforms routinely and deceptively conflate recommending a creator’s work with showing that creator’s work to the people who explicitly asked to see it.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

When you follow or subscribe to a feed, that is not a “signal” to be mixed into the recommendation system. It’s an order: “Show me this.” Not “Show me things like this.”

Show.

Me.

This.

But there’s no money in showing people the things they tell you they want to see. If Amazon showed shoppers the products they searched for, they couldn’t earn $31b/year on an “ad business” that fills the first six screens of results with rival products who’ve paid to be displayed over the product you’re seeking:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

If Spotify played you the albums you searched for, it couldn’t redirect you to playlists artists have to shell out payola to be included on:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

And if you only see what you ask for, then product managers whose KPI is whether they entice you to “discover” something else won’t get a bonus every time you fatfinger a part of your screen that navigates you away from the thing you specifically requested:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-fatfinger-economy-7c7b3b54925c

Musk, meanwhile, has announced that you won’t see messages from the people you follow unless they pay for Twitter Blue:

https://www.wired.com/story/what-is-twitter-blue/

And also that you will be nonconsensually opted into seeing more “recommended” content from people you don’t follow (but who can be extorted out of payola for the privilege):

https://www.socialmediatoday.com/news/Twitter-Expands-Content-Recommendations/637697/

Musk sees Twitter as a publisher, not a social media site:

https://twitter.com/elonmusk/status/1604588904828600320

Which is why he’s so indifferent to the collateral damage from this payola/hostage scam. Yes, Twitter is a place where famous and semi-famous people talk to their audiences, but it is primarily a place where those audiences talk to each other — that is, a public square.

This is the Facebook death-spiral: charging to people to follow to reach you, and burying the things they say in a torrent of payola-funded spam. It’s the vision of someone who thinks of other people as things to use — to pump up your share price or market your goods to — not worthy of consideration.

As Terry Pratchett’s Granny Weatherwax put it: “Sin is when you treat people like things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is.”

Mastodon isn’t perfect, but its flaws are neither fatal nor permanent. The idea that centralized media is “easier” surely reflects the hundreds of billions of dollars that have been pumped into refining social media Roach Motels (“users check in, but they don’t check out”).

Until a comparable sum has been spent refining decentralized, federated services, any claims about the impossibility of making the fediverse work for mass audiences should be treated as unfalsifiable, motivated reasoning.

Meanwhile, Mastodon has gotten two things right that no other social media giant has even seriously attempted:

I. If you follow someone on Mastodon, you’ll see everything they post; and

II. If you leave a Mastodon server, you can take both your followers and the people you follow with you.

The most common criticism of Mastodon is that you must rely on individual moderators who may be underresourced, incompetent on malicious. This is indeed a serious problem, but it isn’t the same serious problem that Twitter has. When Twitter is incompetent, malicious, or underresourced, your departure comes at a dear price.

On Mastodon, your choice is: tolerate bad moderation, or click two links and move somewhere else.

On Twitter, your choice is: tolerate moderation, or lose contact with all the people you care about and all the people who care about you.

The interoperability mandates in the Digital Markets Act (and in the US ACCESS Act, which seems unlikely to get a vote in this session of Congress) only force the largest platforms to open up, but Mastodon shows us the utility of interop for smaller services, too.

There are lots of domains in which “dominance” shouldn’t be the sole criteria for whether you are expected to treat your customers fairly.

A doctor with a small practice who leaks all ten patients’ data harms those patients as surely as a hospital system with a million patients would have. A small-time wedding photographer who refuses to turn over your pictures unless you pay a surprise bill is every bit as harmful to you as a giant chain that has the same practice.

As we move into the realm of smalltime, community-oriented social media servers, we should be looking to avoid the pitfalls of the social media bubble that’s bursting around us. No matter what the size of the service, let’s ensure that it lets us leave, and respects the end-to-end principle, that any two people who want to talk to each other should be allowed to do so, without interference from the people who operate their communications infrastructure.

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Heisenberg Media (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Elon_Musk_-_The_Summit_2013.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[Image ID: Moses confronting the Pharaoh, demanding that he release the Hebrews. Pharaoh’s face has been replaced with Elon Musk’s. Moses holds a Twitter logo in his outstretched hand. The faces embossed in the columns of Pharaoh’s audience hall have been replaced with the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The wall over Pharaoh’s head has been replaced with a Matrix ‘code waterfall’ effect. Moses’s head has been replaced with that of the Mastodon mascot.]

#pluralistic #e2e #end-to-end #freedom of reach #mastodon #interoperability #social media #twitter #economy #creator economy #artists rights #content moderation #como #right of exodus #let my tweeters go #exodus #right of exit #technological self-determination

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astro-royale · 4 months

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How to “make it” when you live in a toxic environment

‼️Disclaimer: This is my personal opinion based on what has helped me and is by no means professional advice. Please take what resonates according to your situation.

1. Drop your expectations. People who have shown you consistently that they don’t care will not change.You need to preserve as much energy as you can for yourself and your goals. Stop setting yourself up for disappointment. Yes, it’s sad. Do the shadow work and don’t tell people things YOU KNOW they will react negatively to.

2. Don’t expect people to be happy for you or support you. Move in silence. People’s subconscious fears will be projected onto you and your goals, why do you need those curses placed upon you when you have so much to deal with anyway.

3. Take what you can get. Accept whatever help you can receive that you know will have no repercussions. Sometimes people can help you with some things and not others.

4. Shift all your efforts towards being able to leave that environment. Do research on how you can expand your finances, and that may mean doing something out of your comfort zone such as creating a social media platform etc. Never compromise on your well being however.

5. You need to believe in yourself as much as you can, even if people won’t.

6. Take advantage of the free help and advice on the internet. Can’t afford something? Well you have time more than money at the moment so use it to research. That research can be used as an asset to help you now and maybe later it can be the reason you start a particular business or are inspired to help people.

7. BE SOLUTION ORIENTED. focusing on problems only creates more problems. You’re going to have to try over and over again in life. Focusing on what’s wrong all the time will not allow you to step outside of the box and see things from a detached point of view where you can actually see a solution.

8. Prayer. I cannot stress this enough. Prayer has caused miracles in my life. Rely on God/Universe whatever you resonate with as much as you can. Your connection to yourself and your higher power is something you always have access to and if you believe and have faith even in times of darkness your high vibration will cause the ripple effect you’re looking for and problems will be solved. I recommend praying and setting up an intention every morning and night.

9. Even if you’re in survival mode 90% of the time. That 10% you spend meditating and praying. Even a little 10 minute meditation, if you can do it and have that time to be in complete surrender and serenity it will still make a difference. It’s not about how much time is spent on something but rather the quality of that. Allow that 10 minutes to be sacred, profound.

10. Ask for all the help you can get from where you know you can. you may get turned down, life is about risks. But always keep going.

11. Create time if you don’t have it. Give something up in order to gain something else. You may need to compromise on something for the time being to be able to create a prominent change/shift in your life. But make sure it is something that won’t affect your health and well being. Example; less time watching tv, more time spent on cultivating faith

12. Be very consistent in your efforts. Consistency towards something is what creates that energetic momentum which will eventually lead to a manifestation.

13. Daily affirmations and listening to affirmations when you sleep is also a great method to reprogram your subconscious and set you up for success. Again, so many free resources out there you can use, you just have to consciously use your will power and pray to receive the strength you need so you can push through.

I’ve linked my energy healing playlist as well as another energy clearing I listen to. I will also be posting more energy healings , always listen with the intention to receive. You don’t even need to pay attention when listening to those.

The meditation I linked says “love meditation” but I’ve used it to manifest other things and I’ve received answer to my prayers immediately.

I hope this helps and I’m sending much love to everyone needing this.

youtube

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infraaa · 10 months

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KOSA 101

Let’s talk about this. This is something I haven’t seen a lot of in my end, and this new bill may be troubling to not just us as a whole, but content creators. So, this isn’t just exclusive to AO3 anymore. This can go as far as places like Wattpad, Quotev, DeviantArt, and here.

So, to put it bluntly, if you give a fuck, listen.

What is KOSA?

KOSA (Kids Online Safety Act,) is a bill within the United States that was initially created last year with the aim of protecting youth (considerably age 16 and under,) from viewing harmful content online. It has since been updated and reintroduced by Richard Blumenthal (D-CT) and Marsha Blackburn (R-TN.) Now, on surface level, it may seem like this has a good outlook, right? Not in the slightest. This bill, while it may not be passed yet rather introduced, may take an extreme to protect youth and monitor all. Yes, I said monitor.

Not only is NSFW content bound to be flagged, which may totally censor a lot of creators not just on this platform but others, a wider band that is under this new bill is LGBT+ content. According to Senator Blackburn of Tennessee, who is KOSA’s co-author, even education on race discrimination was viewed as “dangerous to kids,” and this soon branches out to race, gender, and sexuality discrimination. This also extends out to anxiety, depression, eating disorders, etc. The bill puts itself in the hands of State Attorney Generals in order for them to use tools of censorship against our rights and safety— not just for the youth, but for adults too, as we may face (giving an example,) hurdles trying to obtain things like legal documents.

How does KOSA work?

KOSA works by acting as a censor and self filter for the internet. By the hands of Attorney State Generals, they ultimately decide what is harmful to kids online. Though, this is a dual edged sword. This would also present the loss of access to information that a large sum of people may not deem dangerous. This again extends outward towards things like depression, substance abuse, etc— complex topics without a clear agreement on causes or solutions. This means that it could also filter, and possibly censor medical information, extending outward to trans medical care as well, which may lead on to silence the transgender community further. This is a very bad thing.

There would still be features like Age Verification, but it also filters legal speech. What I mean by “there will still be features,” to give an example, Tumblr has a tab in settings where you can add your birthday, which in turn verifies how old you are. Tiktok has this feature as well. About filtering legal speech, any kind of media or information that has to do with societal ills that is held on a platform, for example, Tumblr, will enable that platform to be held liable for holding that information. But… it may seem like I’m getting off topic, aren’t I?

So let’s swing back around…

KOSA has the ability to hurt creators on several different platforms. This gives the United States Government unlimited range of control over the internet.

This linktree has at least four different petitions open for you to take action against the bill, and to contact your congressmen and women. There’s also a discord server that’s dedicated to stopping KOSA from passing.

By doing this, you are spreading your voice. You are helping millions of people nationally— creators, artists, writers, everyone.

And finally, don’t just like this post. Reblog it— it helps it spread and gain exposure.

Let’s put an end to KOSA.

#infrawrites #infraspeaks #kosa bill #kosa act #kosa #stop kosa #kids online safety act #lgbtq community #lgbtqiia+#wattpad #a03 down #a03 #writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr #I’m sorry for the tag overload and the cookie run tags are irrelevant but that’s the community I’m in #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run overbreak #crob

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sugusoneandonly · 24 days

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Quixotic - STSG - ch 2

a/n 1: ik i said fem reader but like there’s gender neutral pronouns, however the reader does have feminine presentations maybe? Like dresses, makeup, etc. 😭 idk how ts rlly works guys dont cancel me im a rainbow person too😞

cw cont: jealous sugu ,, questioning sugu ,, oblivious reader ,, thats all i got lmk if i missed smth

!! do not repost/copy on any other platform !! if u do at least lmk where and give creds 😒 /j !! pls don’t tho <3

After your brief introduction with Geto, you were now sitting on a leather couch that overlooked the bright city of Tokyo. Gojo had stepped out to go handle whatever modeling business he had to attend to, leaving you with Geto. It’s been silent since then, even more than before the chatterbox out of all 3 of you had left.

You couldn’t help but admire the man before you, no doubt in the fact that he could’ve become a model himself if he wanted to. As if he could feel your gaze, he turned around to lock his deep lilac eyes with your own. You blinked. He smiled, softly but surely. Anything he would say, you would do. Whether out of fear, admiration, or something else, you didn’t know.

His studio was clean (cleaner than yours at least) yet had the essence of life and his own soul strewn over it. Silken fabrics adorned the windows and deep fabrics were strewn across the island in his office, his desk with a stack of papers and an open portfolio. With curiosity your gaze shifted to it, focusing in on it to try and see what was on them, his latest line maybe?

Yet before you could catch the slightest hint, his pale hands had flipped the open file closed. “I apologize for my lack of introduction, i’m Suguru Geto, you probably already know though.” You had to get a grip on yourself, he’s your…mentor and you can’t swoon around for your own mentor. “I’m Y/N L/N, I really love your work.” you quickly managed to get out.

A moment of pause, and he let out chuckle that was deep yet as light as a summer’s night breeze. “I’m quite familiar, I see your name in my notifications quite frequently.” And with that, summer’s scorching sun had graced itself into your cheeks, and if you couldn’t blush before you might as well have now. Your appreciation for his work posted online hadn’t gone unnoticed apparently. What’s worse, he knew your social media already and you can’t remember whether you left it private or public.

“..I’m sorry again for my harsh behavior it’s not everyday you meet your lovers ex and take them in-” He began but you quickly cut him short, hands frantically waving in front of you frown etched with wide eyes and scrunched eyebrows. “I have no feelings for him anymore and even if I did there’s no way I’d express them, especially considering everyones… positions. I didn’t even know I-” realizing your rambling, you finally looked him in the eye, a tight lipped smile pulled on his face. “Then there’s no point wasting time on informalities, is there then?” , not trusting your mouth you simply nodded.

“We have a tight schedule today, we begin with picking the next project.” we. i get to help my idol make his next project. a project that people are gonna wear. and people that actually know who made it instead of my occasional etsy shoppers.

When you returned to reality, you saw a collection of various designs laid before you on the coffee table. The seasons were shifting from summer to fall. Although it was early September, the industry never waited, not even on the leaves to fall. Your mouth fell to a small o , Suguru swore if you had gazed at him with the stars in your eyes, they might’ve been warm enough to make him melt.

wait, what, that’s not how it goes - sugu

You skim through each and every sketch, feeling as if you’ve discovered a new chest of gems, one that nobody knew of. You stopped when you fell across a particular sketch, not really a sketch but a photocopy. The style felt familiar, and upon closer examination, it’s my drawing

You look up at Geto, “I was thinking, there’d be no point in interning if you couldn’t exercise your own work. So, if it’s alright with you I was thinking to incorporate some of your ideas into the next line.”

A grin spread across your face, “Yes, Of Course! I’d love that so mu-” you were cut off with the door opening, and Geto quickly shut the folder with the sketches out of sight. You turned around to see the door, none other than Gojo standing there, playful pout gracing his face. “He’s not allowed to see the works in progress,” Geto explained. You tilted your head, no words, and like second nature Gojo responded “He wants to be mysterious and keep it a surprise like the bum he is.” Gojo had scrunched his nose at Geto, plopping himself down next to him, arm resting on the couch behind Geto’s back.

A twinge of jealousy pinched at Geto, seeing what’s probably surface level remnants of your past relationship come back to life like clockwork. He brushed it off, you had no feelings, Gojo has none, what could go wrong.

he forgot about himself

Yet, you had no feelings. None. You looked at the couple in front of you and exhaled with relief. you did it, you were over him, and you can carry on

It was dead silence now, how unfortunate. Why won’t your mouth work, say something. Thankfully, Geto and Gojo had been fussing over whatever rich people business Gojo had brought with him. Albeit, quite hushed. Praying your stomach wouldn’t go back to its old ways, you had jinxed yourself. A quite prominent growl had presented itself to the room. Geto glanced up at the clock, Gojo smiled. It was pushing 1 in the afternoon, unfortunately you couldn’t brush it off as only one person was sitting in the direction of the sound, and that person was you. Gojo had slightly toed Geto under the table.

“Next item on the schedule would probably better off as lunch, hm?” Geto offered, a teasing, forced?, smile on his face.

“Really?” You glanced down at the paper, lunch wasn’t for another hour? Quickly the paper was lightly tugged from your hold, two different hands yet adorned by similar rings. The two glanced at each other. “A designers life never sits set in stone, little one.” Gojo said in a sing-song.

“Ohh” you had bought it. They take this very seriously, perhaps it’s best not to mess around too much like this - Suguru

Quickly, the two men had already began to make their way out the door and to the elevator down to the city. You made your way to keep up with them, to wherever they were taking you.

©sugusoneandonly 2024

a/n 2 :: BONJOUR 🥖

This is very slow burn i think. Guys im being so fr idk what im doing im just throwing up my thoughts. Idk how to write enemies to lovers so i give u crisis sugu <33

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accio-victuuri · 3 months

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fandom thoughts & are cpfs really gonna get banned from yibo related comment sections? 📝

i may regret publishing this cause it will, like it always does, attract the wrong sort but whatever. i don’t really care. for someone who has been here for a good number of years, i have really learned to pick my battles especially fandom-wise. i can tell you that every week, there will always be some kind of trouble going on with fans and you will be exhausted if you obsess over each one of them. i have said before that if there is anything that will drive me out of stanning the boys, it’s the toxic fandom — so that’s why i mostly steer clear. hence, having this small space for myself on tumblr.

the fandom disagreements, whether that’s within cpfs, so/o vs cpfs, so/o vs other so/os and we somehow get dragged is always gonna be there. and it’s not really unique to our fandom. the question tho is why you are here? is it to participate in fan wars or to consume content related to xz and wyb? is it to be famous and get followers? etc personally, i’m here for xz and wyb. the active fandom is a bonus. there are so many things i love about the cpf community, but my priority will always be xz and wyb + their career. i mostly get involved if the issue makes it on HS and if it’s to amplify something positive within the fandom.

lately, i’ve mildly spoke up about people accusing cpfs of buying likes cause it was all bs.

which leads us to the next topic of being banned..

i guess this is a “hot topic” in other platforms that love drama.

so for the past days, including weibo night, cpfs have been commenting en masse in comments section. for example, with yibo’s weibo night post and ybo’s recent post about bystander ep photos. what you will notice is the use of ❤️💛 💚 to highlight that we are cpfs. the same thing is done in xz & xzs post. the only reason why we are more visible in the top comments of yibo posts is because motos are disorganized. i said what i said. i see efforts for their coordination but cpfs are just more organized when it comes to doing likes and votes. xfx are so much better than us on this tho. they have lots of professional fans. omg i’m gonna get dragged for being a xfx lol but it’s the truth.

you must notice that the friction between cpfs and motos have been happening for a while now. going as far back as SDC 5 finals ( even before that actually ) and so on. this is why i’m not surprised that this stunt from cpfs triggered them again. ⚠️

the short answer is, no one is getting banned. what they can do tho, and that includes YBO is to report these comments as spam. and if you look at it, they do look like spam posts. if a user gets reported multiple times, then that is when the ban comes in. i don’t think they will be spending money on censoring certain emojis tho. i tried right now and you can still send it.

i have seen some conversations on wb among cpf, that the comments should not be like this. it should really be actual comments on what is being shared. that we should not include xz’s name or face. that’s what i like about the fandom, cause we can admit if we do something wrong or if we need to improve in some aspects. we don’t blame other people, which is what other fandoms love to do btw. it’s all they can do. lol.

and it doesn’t help that in yuehua’s recent post regarding yibo’s lawsuits, the top comment is about demanding to control the comments section of yibo related posts. so of course they will look into that. sadly, the group that the company will always appease are the solo fans. it is what it is.

so that’s basically what the issue is about.

i’m actually just observing at this point but it’s not where my focus is. i am personally excited about saturday and seeing captain yibo 💥 plus i have other interests and things happening irl. this is why i don’t get people who seem to only be in fandom to start fights or obsess over cpfs. can’t relate.

i’m not saying that we should ignore everything and pretend that things are perfect. the point is, do not obsess over every fandom drama. also, look at things from cpf side before so/os. people usually come to me, sending me things that so/os say and my question is why the hell are you reading their posts? why are you in there? let’s stay on our lane. they are so/os, of course they will be biased. and don’t expect me to be always up in arms about stuff like this. my energy for over reacting is primarily for cpns and not fandom wars & drama.

lastly, being a cpf is not for the glass hearted. if you are weak-willed, this is is not for you. or maybe it is and this is the fandom that will build you up. i hope more and more people will find that perfect balance in participating in this fandom. that we set and implement boundaries — i know it’s especially hard for the new ones — when you are bombarded with the negativity. it’s not all that. there is so much more positive things to gain in being a cpf if you know where to look 🫶🏼

#yizhan #bjyx #personal #fandom drama #hugs to all cpfs 🫂🫂🫂#if you all have nothing to do then watch tgcf

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transformativeworks · 11 months

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Seeing all posts about so and so merging with AO3 or this fandom archive moving over ...how does the process work? Like how do you avoid story duplicates or even authors? What happens when one author posts the same story under different names on AO3 and whatever old archive you're merging with? Can you filter that out? Easy of course if stories are only posted on the smaller archive and being moved to AO3 but authors post on different platforms all the time so I'm curious how the process actually works on your end.

This is such a great question! I didn't know so I went and asked the people who are in charge of moving archives onto AO3.

Eskici here! I’m one of the chairs of the Open Doors committee, which is responsible for all of the imports of offline and at-risk archives to AO3. Before each import is announced, we compile a spreadsheet with a row for every fanwork from that archive. (If the archive is backed by a database, we can often export this spreadsheet manually, but for hand-coded archives, we often do this manually.) Creators frequently email us shortly after we announce an upcoming import to let us know that their works from the archive are already on AO3 (or if they don’t want their works imported for any other reason), and we track those requests in the spreadsheet as they come in so that we don’t import duplicates. Then, as close to right before the import as we can, we manually search AO3 for every fanwork from the archive whose creator hasn’t already contacted us. Usually, we start by entering just the title of the work and a keyword or two from the name of its fandom. We try to cast as wide a net as possible so that we don’t accidentally filter out results from anyone who didn’t tag their work with the canonical fandom tag, with tags for characters/relationships in the work, etc. If we don’t turn up any results, we mark the work not found, but if we do find a matching work, we check to make sure the content is the same and then mark on our spreadsheet not to import it and instead invite that work to the AO3 collection that the imported archive will feed into. On the other hand, if we find too many matches to check all of them, we add keywords to the search to try to make it more manageable for our searchers. As you can imagine, this is a lot of manual work for us to do on top of the imports themselves, which are sometimes manual as well. Open Doors recruited for import assistants earlier this year to help with tasks exactly like these ones, and we hope to do so regularly in the coming years! If you ever have an offline or at-risk archive you’d like us to look into importing (with moderator permission), you can always reach us at [email protected]. And if you’re interested in volunteering for the project, keep an eye out for recruitment. We usually recruit for our different roles at least once or twice a year. Thanks for your interest in fanwork preservation!

#Mod Remi #ao3 #Open Doors #archive of our own #today we learned

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soft-girl-musings · 7 months

Text

Perks of Being a Wallflower

Jake Lockley x plus size fem!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for thirsty jake, author does not dance but saw it on the tv once (i'm mostly kidding), mustachioed jake jumpscare (tagging for the haters), no use of Y/N

wc: 1.9k

fic summary: For Jake, a night on the town means sticking to the background, listening for signs of trouble. That all changes when he sees you at the dance hall.

A/N: still on the jake train and I am making it everyone's problem. just wanted to preface by saying, as a curvy girlie, i recognize that plus size folk are not a monolith. so everything in this fic is based on my own experience, etc. enjoy!

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Jake likes to keep his intel hotspots in rotation.

Mondays and Wednesdays he'll head to the diner after a day in the cab, refueling and checking in with his network.

Tuesdays and Thursdays he'll hit the bars. Weekends are mostly for driving.

But Fridays? Fridays are for dancing.

Jake's guilty pleasure is scoping out the dance hall. The clubs have their appeal, but there's something timeless about the hole in the wall he’d discovered a while back. Nothing special, just a cozy ballroom with a bar, tables lifted on a platform framing ¾ of the room and turning the dance floor into an inverse stage.

Tonight he nurses a beer in the corner, listening to a couple of seedy characters describe some suspicious activity at a warehouse he'd been tailing. But he hasn't caught much of their conversation. Truth be told, he's a bit distracted tonight.

Because of you.

He'd seen you come in with four other people, two couples by the look of it. He'd been immediately taken by you: while some patrons came to dance in jeans and t-shirts, you'd dressed to impress. He'd shamelessly raked his eyes over your form, generous curves hugged by the bodice of your dress that trailed down over your ample hips. You walked with a timid sway, the movement inevitable even as you drew your arms about yourself, settling into your seat with care at a table clear across the room from him.

As much as he's tried to fight it, his attention always drifts back to you: poised and pretty, eyes scanning the room as one couple, then another leaves you for the Latin-dance-of-the-week group lesson hosted like clockwork every Friday. The instructor drones on, but Jake is zeroed in on you: all softness and warmth, criminally tucked away from the rest of the fun.

The warehouse can wait.

__________

You don’t consider yourself the kind of girl someone crosses the room for.

That’s probably why you don’t notice the determined stranger making his way across the crowded dance floor, eyes trained on you as he adjusts his cap with a smirk.

You’re taking another sip of your overpriced cocktail when you hear an unfamiliar voice below you.

“Not a fan of the rumba?”

You finally register the man standing by the corner of your table. He’s handsome, you have to admit, his dark features highlighting kind brown eyes, creased from his almost too-eager smile. When you realize he’s talking to you, your words are still slow to come out.

But he doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s the mustache, isn’t it?” He grins sheepishly, dragging a palm across his lower face. “Knew it’d skeeve some people out, but I thought I’d give it a go.”

“No,” you say too quickly for your own liking, “It’s, ah– nice. Suits you.”

You’re met with a cheeky grin as he steps closer, eyes half-lidded as he leans in. “I’m Jake. Nice to meet a friendly face.”

You eye him warily, wondering what his angle could be. A quick glance around the room confirms there’s only so many unattached women surrounding the dance floor. You sigh internally. The game is always the same: keep them entertained until the girls they really want to talk to come back from the bar, or the bathroom, or stray just far enough from the guys they arrived with.

Might as well play along.

Settling back into your seat, you tell him your name. His grin widens as he echoes it with something bordering reverence, and you bite your cheek to keep from smiling too wide.

Jake props one elbow on the table, looking up at you. Seems like he’s not going anywhere for a while.

“I gotta know– you not a fan of the rumba?” He asks again, staring up at you dreamily. You don't catch it, your eyes flitting between him and the dance floor. The lesson is over, and couples spread out to dance independently.

“Hm? Oh, um– it’s alright,” you say with a shrug, arms wrapping around your middle again. “Just not a dancing night for me.”

Truth be told, it’s been ages since anyone’s invited you to dance. You’ve contented yourself with watching, although something deep inside aches for someone to ask you to–

"Dance with me."

You raise an eyebrow, struck by his bluntness. "I'm sorry?"

He leans in, both arms now resting on the table. "Dance with me, doll." His grin widens as he drinks you in. Your cheeks heat under his gaze, and you almost believe the admiration behind his eyes.

You press your lips together and look back to the crowd. "No thanks."

"I promise I don't bite," he teases, baring his teeth for effect. The slight gap in his smile catches your eye and you look away again. He's definitely a charmer.

"I…" you trail off, searching for an excuse but find you're hesitant to give it.

Your self-sabotaging streak wins out. "Sorry, I have to keep the table for my friends." You nod toward the couples you came with, each person settled in the arms of their partner as they stumble through the rumba on their own. Your frown deepens; it does look fun.

Jake hums and props his head on one hand. "Don't tell me you only tagged along to watch their purses? Not the best of friends," he adds, critique mixed with sympathy.

You almost tell him that this wasn't the plan, you were meant to have a date tonight. A date who suddenly couldn't make it once your friend had caved and sent him a picture of you– a snapshot you'd both hoped wouldn't "fatfish" but was flattering enough to entice him to commit. Clearly he didn't.

You consider telling him everything, so lost in thought you don't realize he's been saying your name. He calls you once more, and you snap back to the present, tearing your eyes away from the dance floor.

"Sorry, what was that?"

As you speak, Jake walks around the table until he's closer to your side. He holds out his hand.

"C'mon, one dance." He asks again, angling his head to catch your eye. "Please?"

The last of your resolve absolutely crumbles at the way his voice softens with every word. As if you have something he wants. As if you could reject him and make it sting.

Oh, what the hell.

"...Alright. One dance."

You didn't think he could smile any wider, but he does– tossing his cap onto the table and trailing a hand through his thick black curls, he's all crow's feet and smile lines as you accept his hand.

Jake weaves between dancing pairs with you in tow, until you reach the middle of the floor. Your eyes dart around at the couples surrounding you, but a gentle touch under your chin brings your attention back to him.

"Just focus on me, yeah?" His voice is still soft, keeping you grounded in the eye of the busy dance floor. You nod, letting out a shaky breath.

"Right, so–" Jake clasps your right hand and raises it to chin level. He moves your left hand to cradle his shoulder, and places his right hand on your shoulder blade. It takes everything in him not to squeeze the flesh under his palm; you're just as warm and soft as he'd thought you'd be.

He talks you through the basics, how to time your steps and the flow of each movement. Every so often, he’ll lift your chin again, since you keep looking at your feet to keep up.

You catch on quicker than you’d expected. Even though your cheeks are blazing, you feel yourself loosen up– your body relaxing, your hips swaying a bit more freely.

Jake can tell: he’s never short of praise and encouragement, and has to remember his own advice to stop himself from watching your hips the whole time.

"Alright," he warns, "here's something a little tricky-"

As soon as you feel his hand flex, you know what to do. You step out and deftly spin under his arm, hips swaying with a cheeky flourish for effect.

Jake barks a laugh of surprise, arms settling back into place as you complete the step.

You let yourself crack a smile. “You third wheel enough of these dance lessons, you’re bound to pick some things up.”

“No kidding,” he affirms, resuming an easy rhythm for you both. You’d think he was born with that grin on his face, the way it hasn’t faltered since he introduced himself.

One song bleeds into another, but neither of you notice. Instead, you draw closer together, your frame more relaxed and your heart racing. With every beat, you fight back the budding intoxication of the moment. Because this can't be real; this can't be something that lasts. No matter how many praises he showers, winks he offers, or lingering brushes against your hips, shoulders, seemingly anywhere he can touch you, you know you won't be hearing from Jake once you leave this dance floor. That's how this always goes down.

The song ends and you both slow to a stop. Slightly breathless, your hands trail up to Jake’s shoulders, thumbs tracing the fabric there as you work up the courage to ask one last question.

"So… is this the part where you go back to your friends and tally up who got the big girl to believe you were interested?"

Jake's brows knit together, his hands pressed to your shoulder blades to hold you steady. "I don't-"

"Oh please, you don't have to pretend. I survived high school, I can take it." You smirk, worrying your lip to keep your disappointment at bay. This was a nice fantasy, but you know how this ends.

The band starts to play a slower tune, and his eyes meet yours. In a flash of flexed arms and footwork, you’re suddenly looking up at him, body tilted back as he dips you. A cheeky grin is plastered on his flushed features.

"Doll, you misunderstand." He draws you back up, bringing you cheek to cheek as the stubble of his warm face scratches your skin. He continues, voice low and close to your ear:

"We're dancin' because it'd be criminal to leave such a pretty wallflower unplucked all night." He starts to sway in time to the music, still holding you. An invitation to stay, to do this all again.

You lean back; his rapt attention is trained on you like before, the warmth in his brown eyes seeping into your cheeks. Your face blossoms into the widest smile, your soft angles catching the light and making you look downright radiant.

"That's… so corny." And you laugh, a rich, uninhibited sound pouring from your lips until tears nearly spill down your cheeks.

Jake takes it all in– the vision that you are. His hand trails down to the softness at the small of your back. The way you quake from laughter sends a thrill up his spine, and he chuckles in turn. If he wasn’t holding you, he swears he’d be a little weak in the knees.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder as you calm down. “What’s one more dance?” You breathe, letting yourself move in time with the music.

Jake bites his lip and nods, taking your hand again. “Thought you’d never ask, doll.”

With a flick of the wrist he spins you out, eliciting another laugh from you as he pulls you back in.

The warehouse can definitely wait: his night's going to be spent drawing that sweet sound from your lips as long as you'll let him.

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A/N: when I say "brainrot," i mean i couldn't sleep until i set this gd thing to publish (don't ask me what time)

huge shoutout to @hon3yboy @chrissymodi-frost and @mrsnadeem for letting me ramble in your DMs about dancer!Jake, all my love my darlings <3

addtl tag list: @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi

tysm for reading!

#my works #btw formatting this on desktop is making my eyes hurt idk how y'all do it #moon knight #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley x plus size!reader #jake lockley/plus size!reader #jake lockley fluff #moon knight fluff

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Cruel Summer | Chapter III: Clean

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, some Spider x Reader, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: You and Neteyam learn to navigate life without the other.

A/N: Hey besties, I’m sorry that this took so long, but I’ve honestly been struggling a little on this website, and it’s taken quite the toll on me. It’s been a weird week(?), in which although I’ve never received more followers and more notes etc., I’ve also never felt more alone, and more disconnected from the platform and the people in it. I think you will be able to tell in the chapter as well. When I was posting the Cardigan series, although I had a lot less followers, I felt like people genuinely enjoyed/connected to the story, and I just don’t really feel that way anymore, and I think I’m still learning to deal with it. Anyway, personal issues aside, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I think it’s only going to be another couple chapters in this story. I might however make an alternate ending to it? I’ve also had some inspiration for Midnight Rain Part II, and thank you so much for being patient with me with that story, it took me a while to understand what I wanted to do with it, as I wasn’t planning on it having a second part initially. Ramble over, I promise.

enjoy besties ily xoxo

: ̗̀➛ listen to Clean here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

The drought was the very worst

When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

It was months and months of back and forth

You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore

“Come on… open the door, please?”

Lo’ak’s voice was pleading and saddened, and so were Kiri’s soft sobs, but you pretended you couldn’t hear them, not their tone nor their words, because hearing them meant acknowledging it and you couldn’t. You couldn’t acknowledge them, or the previous few that tried. Not Jake, not Norm, not Neteyam. Definitely not Neteyam. You couldn’t open that door, because if you did, you would crumble at their feet, you would beg and scream and thrash, and you didn’t want to do any of those things. The anger you felt for all of them, each and every one of them was strong enough to drown any other emotion, any emotion other than overwhelming hurt and anguish that was threatening to tear you apart with each passing moment that these people were standing outside your door, every moment that passed in which they were still leaving, still leaving you behind, leaving you alone.

You were all alone. No matter how many years you have spent by their side, no matter how much Jake promised you were as much their kid as the rest of them, no matter how many hours and days and months and years you have spent stuck to Neteyam like glue, it was all in vain. It was all fake. You would never be a part of their family. All these years, you were just a family pet, that they would pass on to the next owners when the situation called for it. This thought was fuel enough for a new set of wailed cries that you tried to muffle with a hand over your mouth. It took a while, but eventually, they left you to your own devices, left you to deal with the mess they made, a mess you’ll never forgive them for. Never forgive him for.

At the dawn of a new day, the dreaded day, a new knock, more timid and timed bellowed, and the sound rang painfully in your ears.

“Kid… they’re leaving. They really want to say goodbye to you… they all do. Tuk is crying, she’s saying you’re mad at her. Just… just please come out, honey, ok?”

Tuk…

“Tuk can come in. But that’s it.” You hoped Norm couldn’t make out how hoarse and broken your voice sounded, and hope he couldn’t tell that you cried so much in one night that you blacked out from dehydration, only to be woken up by his announcement.Sure enough, a few minutes later, Tuk came in through the door you just unlocked. You tried to wash your face and look a little more presentable, but as you took one swift look in the mirror, you knew it was pointless. You just prayed Tuk wouldn’t notice.

“Come in, baby.” She ran into your arms and fastened her arms around your neck, and you were always shocked at how she was just as tall as you, and somehow even stronger.

“Sister! I thought I wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye.” She was crying, you realised, as her hot tears spilled down your back, getting absorbed in your cotton top.

“Of course you would, baby. I am so sorry. I’m so sad that you’re going, so I needed some time, but I would never let you leave without telling you how much I’ll miss you, and that I love you so, so much. You’re the best little sister anyone could have ever asked for.” Her high-pitched cries tugged at your heart painfully, but you knew you had to be strong for her. She didn’t deserve any of it, any pain or hurt, anything other than pure bliss.

“I love you, too! I want you to come with. Why can’t you come with?”

You tried to ignore the way your entire body felt like it was being put through the meat grinder, and just focused on her, on her tears and her soft little hair that you caressed gently, and the way her head fit so well in the crook of your neck.

“Because I’m human, baby. And where you are going, they wouldn’t like me. I wouldn’t fit in. But baby, look at me.” You brushed the unruly braids out of her face and her tears from her cheeks, giving her the biggest smile you could muster. “This isn’t goodbye forever. I will see you again soon, and I can’t wait to hear all the adventures you’ve had and all the memories you’ve made. I’m so proud of you, you know? One day, you’ll outgrow me, and I’ll get to watch you be the most amazing warrior ever, just like your mummy is. And I’ll still be your biggest cheerleader, and I’ll watch from the bleachers, like in the movies, do you remember?”

She nods half-heartedly, but her face lights up a little, and you think the worst is over.

“Come, I’m sure everyone’s waiting. I will miss you, sweet girl. Be safe.”

You kissed her forehead and both of her cheeks, and with one last hug, she left.

They left. He left.

Hung my head as I lost the war

And the sky turned black like a perfect storm

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“How does it feel?” Neteyam watched as you eyed his queue, that was leisurely hung over his shoulder, a glimmer of curiosity in your eyes. He’s noticed you doing that for a while now, and when you were kids, he’s let you touch it once or twice, but it’s been years now, and the situation was no longer applicable. You were no longer just a friend, not quite a mate, somewhere in between, something undefined and awkward, something you didn’t talk about unless absolutely necessary.

“How does what feel, Vol?”

“The Tsaheylu. Connecting to another animal, another Na’vi. How does it feel?”

“I thought you knew about from all your little books.” You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyedly.

“Yes, I do. I know the theory. I know you use it to connect to other beings, to Eywa, I know you can feel each other’s emotions. I know all of that. But how does it feel?”

Neteyam thought about it for a long time. How was he supposed to describe something that was so natural and so quintessential to his life, to his existence, to someone who would never be able to experience for themselves?

“Do you know how sometimes we look at each other and we kind of just have a whole conversation just with one look? Because we know each other so well now, that words are not really necessary? Vol… I know everything you think, and everything you feel. I know you so deep in my soul, it’s hard to separate my own feelings from yours, my own thoughts. You’ve become so essential to my being, it’s like you are a constant part of me.”

He suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed at the confession, and felt like he overshared something that may have been better left unsaid.

“I mean, I-“

“I know what you mean.”

You sighed and got closer to him, and you moved until you were in his lap, in your own little bubble of safety and comfort. It was your favourite place in the world, you once told him.

“I know what you mean too well. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell where I stop and you start.”

He felt relieved at your words, relieved to know you understood and felt the same. That you got him.

“Well, there you go. That’s kinda how it feels like.”

“But, how does it feel like? When you mate with someone, does it amplify the sensations, does it… make it better? Make it so you never want someone else ever again?”

The saddened, desolate tone of your voice told Neteyam that you were moving into uncharted territory, that this conversation was taking a turn neither of you were ready or skilled enough to navigate safely. He didn’t know what was the right way to answer something like that. Because the truth was that yes, from his understanding, it did make it better. It made it more intense, more special, it made it everything. There was a reason Na’vi had sex with however many people they wanted, but only bonded with one. It was the bond that separated a sexual experience from a mating experience, from something you would only ever wanted to experience with just one special someone. But he couldn’t say that to you. Not when you didn’t have this ability and never will, not when he knew how much you wanted it, not when there was nothing neither of you could do about it. So he considered a different approach.

“Do you want to touch it?”

Neteyam’s never allowed anyone near his queue before. No Na’vi would. The kuru was for themselves, for their mates and for their mothers as infants. It was the most sensitive and intimate part of them, and so naturally, Neteyam was a little uneasy and nervous. But he trusted you. He loved you. He was in love with you, and would have given anything to mate with you, but maybe this will be enough.

He laughed softly at the way your eyes widened in shock. You understood the implication of what he was asking you, and that scared you both. But still, almost bashfully, you nodded, a soft warm loving smile taking over your features. You softly reached for it and brushed your hands over the length that was draped over his shoulder, a touch so soft, so minuscule that it was barely there, but Neteyam’s whole body shuddered, goosebumps instantly appearing throughout his whole body. You quickly removed your hand, and looked guilty as you spoke.

“I’m sorry. This was probably a bad ide-“

“Hey, stop.”

Neteyam couldn’t help his fingers as they reached out and stroked you face and jaw, making their way down your throat and collarbone. He smirked a little when you shivered under his touch.

“See? Did that feel bad?”

You smiled and shook your head gently.

“It doesn’t feel bad. It’s just… new. But I want you to do it, Vol. I want you to do it.”

A little unnerved, you resumed your inspection of his braid, grabbing at as gently as you could and bringing it up to eye level.

“The hair here is softer.” You mused, almost to yourself. “I love that.”

Slowly, you moved downstream, until eventually, you reached its end, and gasped slowly as the pink tendrils came into view, moving a lot more erratically and enthusiastically than they normally did.

“Why are they doing that?”

“Because of you, Vol.” he said through panted breaths. He was experiencing a range and intensity of emotions he never had before, never in his life. The things you were doing to him, that only you ever did to him, the feelings you evoked in his mind and body, were now intensified a thousand fold, and he was crumbling under their weight.

“It’s doing that because my body feels you. Feels what you’re doing, knows who you are.” He hesitated before speaking, but he needed to get it out, he had to get it out. “It’s doing that because it knows I’m close to someone it… it wants to mate with.”

You removed your hand from him almost like his queue burned you. Your face contorted in a frown and you were struggling to push tears back in your eyes.

“Oh. Well, unfortunately, that’s never going to be able to happen, so…” You removed yourself from his lap and started turning your back to him, but he caught you and held you in place. You were almost face to face like this, which Neteyam was happy about. He had to look into your eyes to get his point across. He had to look into your eyes to get the courage needed to say this.

“Ma Vol, it doesn’t matter.” You scoffed, and the small movement of your head spilled unwanted tears, that you quickly brushed away with your thumb.

“Hey, look at me. Please?” You did so hesitantly. His thumb was caressing your face, your jaw and lips.

“It doesn’t matter. Do you not understand, Vol?” He moved his hand to rest on your chest, above your heart. “I can feel you. I can feel everything you feel. I can feel feel it like I’m going through it. When you’re sad, I’m sad. When you’re happy or shy, or anxious or scared, when you are annoyed or excited, I feel it all. You see? It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t you get it? It never mattered. Not with you.” A small moan escaped you at his words, that he knew you needed to hear, and he needed to speak out loud. He didn’t know what would happen, didn’t know if he should have, but as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, harsh and needy, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

There was nothing left to do

When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room

So I punched a hole in the roof

Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you

Neteyam woke up with a mean headache, and he felt almost hungover. He always did these days, pain seeping through every dimension of his life, of his body and mind. The dreams were unrelenting, and they stung each night, so many memories, so many moments he wished he could go back to, that he wished he could relive… that he wish he could forget. It’s been weeks, yet your final interaction still haunts him. How could it not? He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. Nineteen years of friendship, of being each other’s safety net were swiftly thrown out the window in a split second, and Neteyam found it difficult to cope with the gap you and your presence left behind. There was so much that had to change for him, it felt like every day was a new life he never asked for and didn’t want, but was forced to live through regardless. A strange purgatory, one with warm breezes and crystal clear water and golden sandy beaches. Probably not the worst of purgatories, if Neteyam was honest with himself, but even Heaven could easily feel like Hell under the right circumstances.

“Ok kids, remember, no getting into trouble. Go meet Tsireya and Aonung and train. Pull your weight. Neteyam, once you’ve mastered the ilu, Tonowari said you can start learning how to tame the tsurak. Now let’s go show the Metkayina how the Omatikaya do things, alright, kids?”

“Yes, sir.”

Neteyam walked alongside his siblings to the meeting place they’ve been training every day for the past couple of weeks. As it turns out, the Metkayina can hold their breath underwater for up to 15 minutes, their bodies physically adapted to allow them to, and well… the Sullys couldn’t. So there was a lot of breathing training, on top of swimming lessons and ilu riding practice. Neteyam was frustrated to have to start anew, frustrated that he couldn’t fly every day, the way he has grown accustomed to for the past 6 years since completing his Iknimaya, frustrated that he went from being the future Olo’eyktan to a novice, to a nobody.

Despite everything, he tried. That was in his nature. He would always try, he would always give his best, and he would always make the best out of a bad situation, because that’s who he was. That’s who he had to be. The move left him broken and unmoored, with no purpose and no home, but Neteyam would still keep going, because his family depended on him, and that knowledge alone was enough to keep him afloat just a little while longer.

Neteyam couldn’t help be jealous of his little brother, who not only adapted, but he did so almost instantly. The new place felt immediately like home to the boy who has always felt alone and misunderstood, like a pariah and an outcast. It was the same here, yet somehow, the presence of the Olo’eyktan’s only daughter seem to lessen the blow and make him want to try harder than he ever has before. His breathing technique was better than all of theirs, except Kiri's, most likely due to the extra lessons he was getting every day from Tsireya. Neteyam was proud of Lo’ak, he really was. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of annoyance that once more, whilst Neteyam was plagued with insurmountable challenges and continuous sacrifices, Lo’ak once more got everything he’s wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He just wishes sometimes life could work out in his favour the same way, at least once. At least in one aspect. The one aspect.

The days were long and tedious, but every day something happened that he wished he could tell you about, that he wished you could experience. You loved water. He could just about imagine your face, your thoughts, your every expression, every sound you would make, every undulation of your voice. He could imagine taking you to the mangrove forest and finding a spot just for the two of you, your screams of pleasure drowned by the greenery and the sounds of exotic birds. He could see you taking your mask off despite his complaints, and kissing him, deeply and passionately, smiling as his tongue explored your body, as your hands explored his.

He missed you. He wondered if you missed him too, or if the hatred that probably fuelled your days prevented you from doing so.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“I’ve missed you.”

You were a mess of tangled limbs on your bed, Neteyam’s warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket, much more so than the one currently covering you both. His voice was thick and laced with languor, and so sweet, it was making your eyes flutter closed in bliss and soothing relaxation.

“I’ve missed you, too, Teyam.”

Neteyam’s large hand cupped your face, lifting it gently so he could meet your eyes, smiling softly as he did.

“Ma Vol… are you happy?”

Neteyam’s loaded question took you by surprise, and woke you from your near-sleep. You thought about it for a while, pondering the weight of the word. Happy. Were you happy? Happiness was such a strange, abstract concept to you. On one hand, yes, you were. So, so happy. In this moment, you were happy. In every moment you were in his arms, every moment he laughed at your silly jokes, or watched you intently as you spoke about your day, in every moment he was just who he was, your best friend, your confidant, your boyfriend and mate for all intents and purposes, except the one that mattered most. And there was the flip side, the ugly monster, that was ever-present and following you everywhere you went, marring even the most serene, the most beautiful, the happiest memories. The truth. The truth was the antithesis of happiness. Because the truth told you that one day, Neteyam would up and leave you, and when he did, your life as you have come to know it for 19 years will change. Because let’s be honest. Not only will you lose him as a lover, as an unofficial boyfriend, but you knew you would lose him as a friend. You knew that whoever it was that would be his mate would not approve of your friendship, and that, in time, even that will dwindle and fall apart, leaving you completely on your own.

Still, all of that was far away in the future in your mind, and telling Neteyam any of it meant admitting feelings you shouldn’t be harbouring to begin with, so you settled for a white lie. A harmless lie. A necessary lie.

“I am, Teyam.”

“Are you?”

“Right now, I am.”

“Good. Because so I am. I know it’s strange. I hate this place, you know. So many horrible things have come out of it, so much hurt and pain and death, but somehow, being here with you… this room, this bed. Somehow it feels like home. And I think it’s you. I think you’re my home.”

You tightened your grip on his body and didn’t say anything as you allowed yourself the respite of his words, and the hope of tomorrow.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You woke up in pain, and crying, as you did most nights these days. You were slowly losing hope the nightmares would ever stop, that his face would ever be erased from your mind, both conscious and unconscious, tugging at every strand of sanity you had left, any shred of self-preservation still keeping you going. It’s been long enough that you thought the pain should have subsided by now. Long enough that maybe, just maybe, the world wouldn’t be as dark and gloomy anymore, that maybe while not the whole sun, but at least one ray of it could penetrate the ice that wrapped around your heart, slowly thawing it. But your world was still dark and filled with dim shadows and water that was slowly filling every chamber of your heart and lungs, slowly drowning you.

You got out of bed with a sigh and turned on the shower, water so hot it felt almost scalding on your skin, the only way you showered these days, the only way it was bearable, the only way. Because this way, in your mind, little by little, every inch of skin on your body he ever touched was slowly melting away, and in time, all the cells that died would be replaced with new ones, and in time, your body will be rid of his imprint and then, maybe then, you could finally be free.

You made your way to the dining area, determined to be a productive member of society at least to some extent today, determined to not spend yet another day in bed, replaying the same 10 songs that only made you sadder, or the same show that you have seen so many times you have memorised by heart. Most of the humans and Avatars were there, enjoying some breakfast prior to a long day ahead. There was yet another attacked planned today. Tarsem was a good leader. Strong and capable, unrelenting in his quest to impede as many of the human developments as he possibly could. He was not deterred by the Recoms and he had faith in Eywa’s ability and desire to protect her world and her people, and so far, he has been right. Even with Avatars, they have not been able to find the new Omatikaya base of operations, and you have even found some of them dead in the woods, mostly likely as a result of an attack by all the ikran that lived in the mountains.

“Morning, honey.” Max sent a wide smile your way, that you tried your best to reciprocate.

“Coffee?” The words were music to your ears. You’ve only tasted coffee a couple of times when you were young, before the provisions depleted, but now, with all the trains and helicopters that the Na’vi and Avatars managed to take down, the stronghold had plenty to spare once more.

“Yes, please.” Norm poured you the magic liquid and took a sip of it himself, sighing happily to himself.

“You know, it really does suck that the humans came back, but my God, this is definitely a silver lining.”

You chuckled a little.

“I doubt the Na’vi will see it that way, Norm.”

“No, but outside of coffee and burgers and all the other human things we’ve missed, Tarsem is incredible, kid! We have so many lab supplies, reagents and equipment that we are still trying to unpack, categorise and put together. It’s incredible all the stuff they brought with them. It’s almost like all the stuff we used to do on Earth, they’re trying to bring here. Who knows what we could do with all of it?”

“After breakfast, I can help you with it. This way we can go through it faster and figure it out?”

“That’d be great, kid.”

“Where’s Spider?”

“He’s training with the Olo’eyktan and his men. You know? Tarsem loves him!” Norm laughs heartily. You raise an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, kid! Turns out 19 years of training with Neteyam and Lo’ak under Jake’s supervision really did make him quite the fighter. Now, he’s obviously never going to be able to take the Iknimaya or be one of the people, but Tarsem sees a true warrior in him. Can you believe that?”

You couldn’t really, but you also couldn’t help the swell of pride that overtook you. It was nice to know there was some hope for the humans in the clan after all.

“Why don’t you go with him? You’ve also trained with the kids growing up. I know you split your time between that and being in the lab, but kid, it’s worth a shot. There’s a whole life out there waiting for you, and this way, you get to feel more integrated with the village. This is what you’ve wanted all your life, isn’t it?”

Yeah, you thought bitterly. A different life.

Despite everything, you took Norm’s advice, and spent your time training with Spider and the Na’vi warriors, deepening your understanding of guns, practicing bow and arrows and even learning hand to hand combat from the human Avatars. In the spare time, you helped in the lab, doing experiments and organising all the overwhelming amounts of new things you were receiving from all the raids. It was a good distraction, and it kept you busy sun up til sun down, each day, every day.

You and Spider got closer by the day, even closer somehow than you used to be. You cleaned his wounds and he helped clean yours, although he didn’t know much about how to do it, but in time, you taught him and you enjoyed the feeling of another person helping you, another person healing you. You almost felt the edges of the gaping hole in your chest start to close when you spent your days together.

But no amount of distraction could really keep the nightmares away when they wanted to come and haunt you in the night.

Ten months sober, I must admit

Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it

You woke up panting, crying and tugging at your night gown in an effort to make the pain stop, the gaping hole in your heart that hurt still as badly as that first day, that never seemed to get any smaller, that refused to heal. You barely registered the door to your bedroom sliding open with a soft whoosh, but jumped when you noticed a dark figure approaching you slowly.

“Spider, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. I just heard you scream, I was worried about you.”

You looked at Spider, your eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out his beautiful face and his dreads that were getting longer by the day. He needs a haircut, you decided mindlessly. You had to admit his presence was soothing to you, his presence in this room that only Neteyam truly ever came in, that only Neteyam ever slept in, that only Neteyam knew as well and intimately as you did. But Neteyam wasn’t here. Neteyam would never be here again. You winced at the sharp burst of pain that shot through you at the thought.

“I’m alright. Thanks for asking. Just had a nightmare.”

Spider sighed, picking at something on his arm.

“Yeah. I get those too.”

You barely stopped to consider what Spider must be going through, too self-involved in your own heartbreak to recognise his own, one that was probably closer to yours that you could have ever thought. You lost Neteyam, but Spider lost Kiri. You both lost a Sully, both lost a love you cared for deeply, more than anyone could ever understand except the other.

“Ok, well, sleep well. Let me know if you need anything.”

You saw Spider turn around and make his way towards the exit, and you could’t help the voice that came out uninvited.

“Can you… stay? Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

Spider stopped in his tracks, still turned away from you, and you watched as the atmosphere of the room shifted, as the silence became thicker than it had been a few moments ago.

“Yeah… yeah, I can stay.” He slowly walked towards your desk chair that had a few clothes thrown carelessly on it, that he removed and put on your desk instead. He sat down, playing with the height and back support controls.

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

You laughed quietly.

“Spider, I meant stay with me.” You shuffled on one edge of your bed and patted the other side. You watched his eyes go wide and mouth agape, as he stared at you in shock.

“You don’t have to, if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

He shook his head and lowered his eyes to the ground. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…”

“Spider, it’s ok. Forget I asked, ok?”

“Oh, shut up. I want to, ok? I just needed a second to adjust. Jeez.”

In true Spider fashion, he stomped over to the bed and got under the covers, and slowly turned around to face you. This was a strange feeling to adjust to for sure. You’ve never had a normal sized person in this bed before. You’ve never had anyone else in here before except Neteyam. Spider looked tiny by comparison, even though the young man was almost a whole head taller than you. Your synchronised breaths were the only thing filling up the tense, awkward silence.

“This is a little weird.”

You couldn’t help chuckle. Well, at least one of you acknowledged it.

“A little.” You admitted. “But I’m glad you’re here, Spider.” He gave you a boyish, crooked smile, one that you’ve grown up seeing develop, just like the rest of him had. You never really paid attention to Spider before. To you, he was just your weird, Tarzan-impersonator, lanky and smelly friend, someone that was just always there. After Neteyam, you never really paid attention to anyone, especially of the opposite sex. Why would you? Any second spent on such affairs was a second wasted, in your mind. But now, Neteyam was gone. Neteyam would move on, and he’d find a mate, whether in the Metkayina or back here, if he ever return. It was time for you to pay attention, it seemed. And you did.

Spider grew up into a beautiful man. He was tall and strong, a testimony to the entire life dedicated to living as close to a Na’vi as he possibly could in this body, that was pure muscle. He was completely naked barring a pair of boxers, and even in the cover of darkness, you couldn’t help trace his biceps and pecs, his pronounced collarbones, and settle you gaze on his face, still kind and innocent, still the same kid you’ve known your whole life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you smiled a little, almost bashful that he caught you, not that you were in any way subtle about it.

“You’re beautiful, you know? I think I’ve always been caught up in my own bullshit to really notice, and I’m sorry for that.” He rolled his eyes, but the blush in his cheeks was so intense it was noticeable even in the dim light coming from the bioluminescent glow of the nature right outside your window.

“You mean caught up in Neteyam.”

It was your turns to blush, hard enough that your cheeks felt like they caught fire. He laughs at you.

“It’s ok. You’re not the only one who knows what it’s like to love someone you can never have, and also not the only one who did things Neytiri would kill you for if she ever found out.” He opened up his arms.

“Come here.”

You hesitated for a second, but couldn’t help the sudden need to be held again, to allow yourself the chance of some sort of connection, some sort of lull in a sea of storms and heartache. Once in his arms, you were once again painfully aware of the difference between him and the man you’ve come to know by heart, the man that still held every part of you hostage, trapped in his hold.

“I know you’ve had a really tough time, and I know that you’re angry, and that most of all, you’re sad that it’s over. I am, too. But the rest of us are still here, you know? The rest of the world is still here. And I think maybe it’s time you give it a chance. Who knows what will happen?”

“How can you be so ok with it? They left us. They abandoned us.” His hand was calloused, but warm and gentle and it caressed up and down your back, and the touch, so familiar and yet so different, brought tears in your eyes as you found yourself wishing once more other hands, bigger and bluer, could do it instead.

“They had no choice. You really think any of them would abandon their home, their family, the forest… any of it, if they could help it?”

You were surprised at Spider’s words and way of thinking, so much more nuanced and level-headed than yours. You knew he was right. You knew it in your head that you shouldn’t blame any of them, shouldn’t blame him, that this was probably even harder for them that it would ever be for you, and yet still, your head and your heart rarely ever got along or saw eye to eye. Your heart was aching, shooting its poisoned blood all throughout your body with every heartbeat, trickling onto every cell, every ounce of you it could get to, making a mess out of you, leaving you reeling and broken, full of hatred and resentment.

“Don’t you… miss her?” He sighed, and stilled his hand movement on the nape of your neck. “I do. I miss them all. But this is a chance to prove myself, to live and show people that I am more than the Sullys’ little pet. And I will take this opportunity and give it everything I got. I suggest you do the same.”

“You should sleep. I’m gonna kick your ass in practice tomorrow otherwise.”

And so you did. And for the first time in months, you had a peaceful night.

Ten months older, I won't give in

Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it

The peace didn’t last, as it never seemed to, as Norm burst in the lab one day when you were doing some experiments.

“Kid. I just heard from Jake.”

The mention of Jake’s name stilled you in your tracks. The name and the names associated with it could always do that, will always do that, even though it’s been months. You knew Jake would never risk their cover to get in touch, so whatever the reason for this was, it was serious. You felt a lump in your throat, restricting your airways, making the breaths you took shallow and uneven.

“What’s the matter?”

”It’s Kiri. Something happened to her underwater. She’s unconscious. Jake asked us to come right away.”

Kiri… your sister in all the ways that mattered, you loved this girl with all your heart. The thought of anything bad happening to her was unthinkable to you. Another thought crept unwelcome in your mind, increasing the lump now completely obstructing your breath, that got stuck in your airways. Spider…

Trying to calm your thoughts, you spoke, and the voice scratched your throat painfully on its way out.

“Did you t-… did you tell him?”

“He’s out in the forest. There is no time. Me and Max are going now. Kid… I think you should come with.”

Eyebrows raised and mouth agape, you struggled to gather your thoughts enough to speak, only soft mumbles coming out instead.

“W-wh-“

“Because I think there’s a lot left unsaid. I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be, far be it from me to tell you how to feel, but…” he sighed, and you could tell he felt uneasy speaking to you about this. “Spider got some closure. You didn’t. Take it from an old man, life’s too short to not have some peace of mind. Kiri’s unwell, and if something happens to her, you will regret for the rest of your life not having said a proper goodbye when they left, when they wanted to.”

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but they did think they were protecting you by leaving. You know they love you, kid. You’re their sister, their best friend. You’re as good as Jake’s daughter. They wouldn’t have left if they ever thought they had a choice.”

“Look, you don’t have to come. I just want what’s best for you, and I think isolating yourself the way you’ve been doing for months isn’t what’s best for you. Just come. Help us save Kiri, say your peace to the Sully family and then maybe you can move on, honey. And who knows… maybe you and Spider…”

You refused to think about his last sentence and focused on how your mind was short-circuiting at his other words, at his desire for you to join, at the thought of seeing them again. Of seeing him again. Your heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your ribcage, and you ran your hand up and down your arms in order to remove the sweat that was gathering on your skin. You knew you probably shouldn’t, you knew that you were better off never seeing them again and forgetting the way his touch and his presence and his voice still had the power to make your knees buckle under the weight of what he meant to you, of the calamitous love you will always feel for him, but another thought, more pressing and urgent, more demanding, made you speak before your mind could intervene.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

The drought was the very worst

When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

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imyourbratzdoll · 3 months

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𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - when the world was good, negan had always visited the strawberry shack after work and when the world ended, he didn't expect to find the place still up and running.

warning - smut, gloryhole, creampie, swearing, daddy kink, breeding kink.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Negan stared shocked at the building still standing as though it had never been touched by the apocalypse. The sign still flashing ‘The Strawberry Shack’, no sign of the dead around. He was brought back to when the world was fine when the dead didn’t walk. He remembered finding this place and heading inside, finding the perfect woman each time. That woman being you, you were the one he’d cheat on his wife with. You’d take away all his thoughts and feelings. He wondered if there was anyone inside, so with large strides, Negan heads toward the building and enters. Stopping short as he sees the same woman sitting at the front desk.

“Hiya hun, nice to see ya again. What would you like?” She taps her perfectly manicured nails against the counter, staring at him as she waits for his response.

“Sex, sugar. But I got no cash.” Negan watches, waiting to wake up and for this to be a dream.

The woman waves her hand, “Don’t worry, hun. It’s free of charge for our favourite customer.” She smirks, “You know where to go.” He nods, walking toward the door and he surveys the room. It seems that only one person is working, and he’d recognise that arse anywhere.

“I see you’re still working, sugar. Even with the hell going on outside.” He walks closer, eyes focused on how you clench around nothing at his voice. “How I’ve missed you. Shit.” He groans, feeling his cock harden and throb. Negan grabs the flesh of your arse, giving it a good squeeze before he reaches down and plays with your clit. “Fuck, sugar. You’re already so wet for me.” He leans Lucille against the wall as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before pulling out his cock. Giving it a few strokes, watching precum leak for his swollen tip. “So, fucking hard for you.”

Negan lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down as he collects your juices before he slowly pushes into you. His eyes practically rolling to the back of his head, leaning one hand against the wall while the other grips your hips. “Jesus, sugar. You’re so fucking tight!” He groans, sliding deep inside of you before pulling back out and thrusting in, repeating the movements over and over. “Shit!” His balls slap against your clit, causing you to dig your nails into the bench beneath you, your walls tighten around him, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans fill the room alongside the slapping of skin, you wiggle your arse, pushing up against him, causing him to go deeper inside of you. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna let Daddy breed you, huh? Pump you full of my cum like before? You miss being full of me, sugar?” Negan’s words cause you to clench around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yes! Yes! Please breed me, Daddy! Pump me full!” You whine, your toes curl as you cum, coating Negan’s cock with your juices. He grips your hips harder, burying himself deeper inside of you as he cums, coating your walls with his white cream. You sag, sinking into the bench beneath you.

“Fuck me, sugar. That was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time. Might have to take you with me.” Negan groans as he gently pulls out of you, tucking his cock back into his jeans and pushing his cum that leaks from your cunt back in. You let out a huff, your lower half tingling. “I gotta go, sugar. I hope we meet again.” He pinches your cheek before grabbing Lucille, swinging his bat over his shoulder and walks off, giving the woman at the front desk a nod before leaving, heading back to his sanctuary.

thank you for reading!

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 5 months

Text

Fight Club [Frank's Version]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader x Frank Castle

Summary: If this seems familiar, that's cause it is. When @hellskitchenswhore sent this prompt I gave two options: Either Matt fucks you before your next session so he's dripping out of you while you're training with Frank so you "remember who you belong to" ORRRRRR he busts up your session and you end up having a three way with him and Frank in the gym. She chose the former but the later has honestly been bouncing around my brain since then and I finally wrote it. The fic is the same until Matt follows reader to the gym, then the fun begins...

Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering and hand job, Oral (M & F receiving,) THREE WAY! A TRIP TO PARIS!, P in V, Creampie, etc.

WC: 7,200

“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you.

You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.

“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag

“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”

“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”

“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”

It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.

Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.

Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice.

You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)

In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym

“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”

“Why don’t you just ask Red?”

“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”

“Okay, can I ask why not?”

“You can but I’m not gonna answer.”

Frank chuckled and shook his head

“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”

“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”

“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”

“And you’d do that for me?”

“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”

“9:00”

“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”

And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.

“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again

“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest

“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”

“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure. See you then.”

By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.

‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.

You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back.

“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep

“Morning sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine

“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”

“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”

“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires

His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.

“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.”

All truths.

“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go

Perfect.

As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.

Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder?

‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.

But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar.

It takes another week for him to ask you about it.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner

“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply

“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”

“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague

“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”

“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.”

Also technically the truth.

“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”

‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.

Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.

Frank.

“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks

“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level

“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments

“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”

“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”

And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?

After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.

He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit.

You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day.

Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.

The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night.

Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt.

You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes.

“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders.

“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”

“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”

You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”

The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.

When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck.

‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself.

But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him.

Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank.

But how could you smell like…

And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot.

You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home.

Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do.

Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?

The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake.

You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first.

“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”

“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds

That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy.

Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.

“Matt. What’s up?”

“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response.

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”

“So did you ask her?”

“Well no but…”

“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”

And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated.

Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.

Matt still hasn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little do you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym.

“Hey Frank!” you call out as you enter

“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms

Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside.

You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room.

“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”

“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”

Matt knew it. He fucking knew it.

“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”

“No, I don’t”

“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”

“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”

Matt’s heart drops.

How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him. But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was.

“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days. I'm sure you could give Red a run for his money.”

“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll

In that moment, Matt decided this had gone far enough. He needed to come clean. He slipped quietly through the door into the studio.

“Oh I think she absolutely could, Frank. Especially if you’ve been teaching her”

Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you. Both you and Frank jump with a gasp and whip your heads to look at the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, standing in front of you.

“Matt… I”

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask

“Shit Red, you been here this whole time?” Frank asks nonchalantly

Matt nods, shame painted on his face.

“Matt, I can explain…”

“No. I need to explain.” Matt holds a hand up, interrupting your thought “I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.”

Frank scoffs and holds back a low chuckle while your face softens in empathy.

“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”

“Really Red, you think I’m that kind of guy?”

“No... I don’t know.”

“Nah, wouldn’t lay a finger on your girl. Unless it was okay with you.”

Matt shakes his head.

“Now that I’m here though, I wouldn’t say no to a little demonstration of what you’ve been teaching her.”

Frank immediately looks to you, reading the signs on your face to make sure it’s okay. You nod. Now that Matt knows, its time to show him.

“Kay sweetheart, just a few rounds on the bag. Like we been practicing.” Frank reassures

You step up to the bag and look to Frank once more. A soft smile spreads across his face and he nods in encouragement.

You take a few swings. Jab, Cross, Left hook. Like Frank normally has you do. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.

“Woah woah woah. Frank, you’ve been letting her hit like this and not correcting her form?”

“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with her form?”

“She’s too far away from the bag.” Matt places his hands on your shoulders, maneuvering you with slight adjustments and positions his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. “I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”

You take a few more swings. Matt’s breath is against your ear and you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core. God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few swings you’ve taken. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.

“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”

Frank throws his arms up in offense as you try a few more punches.

“See? More power, less effort.”

You grin, happy to finally be sharing something Matt is clearly so knowledgeable and passionate about with him. Craning your neck, you mesh your lips with his in excitement and only pull away when Frank loudly clears his throat and you remember that he is still there watching the two of you.

“Eh, so you gave her a minor tweak. Still say how I had her doing it was perfectly fine.”

Matt finally steps away from you, turning to face Frank.

“Sure Castle, but I think the real testament to your teaching skills is how she does with an actual partner.”

Matt turns his attention back to you. His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.

“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks

“A few. Landed some of them too.”

“Let her show you Murdock, maybe she can knock that cocky attitude out of you like I never could.”

Matt chuckles and shakes his head. He steps away from you, holding out a hand and leading you to the center of the room, the area in the gym dedicated to partner sparring.

You stand a few feet apart from your boyfriend, nervous to demonstrate on him. You’re not arrogant enough to think just a few weeks of training with Frank puts you anywhere near Matt’s skill level. But you also know that Matt loves you and will probably take it easy on you just to be supportive and also not hurt you, so you may just be able to get a few swings in. You don’t need the guilt of piling onto his already long list of previous injuries and scars.

Frank approaches behind you, placing a hand on your arm in reassurance as he leans close to your ear.

“Remember that knee to crotch move I showed you last week? The one I said to only use if some creep comes at you head on and you need to take him out quick?”

You nod, already shifting your feet towards the set up position for that move, trying to activate the muscle memory to bring it back into your brain.

“Well” Frank continued, “might not be a bad time to try it.”

You chuckle at his suggestion.

“Frank, you know Matt can hear all of this right?”

You glance over at your boyfriend, amused smirk painted across his lips as he stretches his perfectly toned bicep across his chest, warming up for your little face off. He’s discarded his tight black shirt in a pile beside him. A cheap bid to distract you from the task at hand with his incredible body that he knows you can’t resist.

“Yeah, just figure if he wants to be a jealous fucker why not rile him up some more? Plus it’s the least he deserves for thinking the worst from you and I, of all people.”

You try not to laugh at the statement. Frank’s askew moral compass being perfectly fine with the regular amount of murder he commits, but thinking being a taken woman’s side piece crosses a line.

He squeezes the hand still resting on your bicep in reassurance before stepping away with a wink, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, radiating from the point where the warmth of his touch still lingers. Frank always keeps it incredibly professional around you and you know he is pushing against the line of flirting just to get into Matt’s head.

“Ready sweetheart?” Matt asks as you step towards him, gloved fists by your face prepared to fight

“Yeah” you reply and Matt also assumes his stance, nodding in your direction as a go ahead

“Ding ding, round one!” Frank remarks

You go for the right hook first, but Matt easily blocks the hit. You throw a few more punches, all of which Matt dodges and blocks without looking like he’s putting any effort into it. He’s cocky and sly in the way that he moves, refusing to even take one swing at you but making you work stupidly hard just to get nowhere.

Fine. New strategy, you decide.

Swinging a roundhouse knee in the air, you connect directly with his ribs. The oof sounds he lets out gives you a rush of adrenaline knowing you legitimately got a hit on him. It’s incredibly short lived as he’s quick to recover. Rushing towards you, he tackles you to the mat, knocking the wind out of your lungs as your ribs connect with the floor. He’s pinned you to the point where you can barely squirm, knee pressed firmly between your legs while his arms cage you in place.

“Nice try baby, but not good enough.” he whispers in your ear, shifting his leg to provide just a little friction against your core

“Woah, take it easy on her. She’s still a beginner. She’s here to learn, not have you be an asshole to her about something you thought she did.” Frank interjects, pulling Matt off of you

“Just cause you take it easy on her Frank, doesn’t mean I have to. She wants to learn, then let her learn with a real opponent, not just you going easy on her cause she makes your dick too hard to think straight.”

“Woah!” you interject, ripping the boxing gloves off your hands while still flat on your back

“Jesus, Red” Frank exclaims as he offers out a hand to get you back on your feet

“Oh come on Frank, you’ve been hard since she walked in here. Just because you’re not banging my girlfriend doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it. I can hear it rub against your pants every time you move. You’re a weirdo, but not nearly weird enough to show up to a gym in jeans unless you had a reason.”

“Look, I’d never…” Frank stumbles over his words, redness creeping up his neck as it tenses with every clench of his jaw

Your pulse is thumping loudly in your ears at Matt’s observation, skin flushed with heat in both embarrassment for Frank who is still stammering beside you and also a little flattered that you so effortlessly turn him on so much.

“Never? Even with my permission?” Matt inquires

Frank’s pupils grow wide at Matt’s suggestion

“Woah, hold up Matt. Permission?” you loudly exclaim, offended at Matt’s implication “Like you own me?! I’m my own person, what about my damn permission?!”

Matt scoffs at your statement and steps toward you, spinning you around so your back is once more pressed against him and you are now facing Frank, who is hesitant to look up. His gaze transfixed on the floor as he tries to find the words to refute Matt’s claims. You didn’t think sheepish was a word one could ever use to describe Frank Castle, nor did you think he’d ever back down from a fight with Matt, even a verbal one.

“Okay sweetheart, let’s talk about you then.” Matt speaks lowly, damp bare skin of his rising and falling chest pressing into your back as he speaks, his own hardness obvious as he pulls your body flush against his

“While I appreciate that you haven’t crossed any lines since you started training, that doesn't mean you’re not enjoying these nightly sessions with Frank. Your heartbeat has risen every time he's been within a foot of you or complimented your progress tonight.”

His voice rumbles against the skin of your neck, right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings. For some reason, you don’t stop him, feeling a little shy but letting him tease you in front of Frank.

“And you want to talk about how wet you were when I first got here?” he continues “I could practically smell you from blocks away. Frank get you that excited, hmm?”

Frank's head snaps up at the statement and he locks eyes with you just as Matt pushes his hand all the way down, collecting the slick he was just describing on his fingers.

“Matt, I…” you attempted to protest, still watching as the lust grows in Frank’s stare while Matt runs his fingers through your folds.

There was no hiding how your body reacted to both men. The evidence drips onto Matt’s fingers as he toys with you.

“No, it’s okay sweetheart.” he reassures, placing a few kisses on your neck “I get it. Frank and I have always said we're two sides to the same coin. It makes sense we’d both find the same woman attractive. And that she’d want us both.”

Matt once again turns his attention to Frank, not relenting in his teasing of you as he slips a finger into your opening, causing a moan to escape from your lips.

“Go ahead, Frank” Matt says with a nod against your shoulder, “if it's okay with her, it's okay with me.”

Frank finally wills himself to step forward. Never wavering in how deeply his gaze is locked on you, he hovers his hands over your waist while Matt continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, waiting for your go ahead. You nod, granting him the permission to finally act on the feelings you’ve both been resisting.

Frank’s trembling hand finally cradles your jaw as he leans into you and softly connects his lips with yours, taking the pace slowly to give you both the space to gauge how you’re feeling.

Matt, on the other hand, is happy to move things along as he pushes another finger inside you. Immediately working his calloused digits against that spongy spot inside you that drives you wild every time. You're not sure what causes you to groan into Frank's mouth, the way Matt touches you so expertly or the tingly sensation spreading through your body as Frank’s tongue and hands begin to explore.

Matt only removes his fingers from your core momentarily to aid Frank in ridding you of your clothes, eager to assist as it now gives him so much more easy access to your sopping cunt.

Warm, wet kisses are placed all over your heated flesh from both men as Frank’s calloused fingers dance all over you, eventually resting just above Matt’s hand to work your clit while Matt picks up his pace.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a strong current against a rocky shore, hands gripping onto Frank’s forearms to hold your self steady as you ride the waves of pleasure to the end. He watches with an almost sort of reverence as you come down, indulging in every beautiful hint of pleasure painted across your face and body.

Your cunt squeezes Matt’s fingers one last time before he removes them, allowing you to fully fall into Frank’s strong form while Matt tastes the nectar of his labor. The groan that escapes his lips is sinful as he indulges in the familiar taste of you. Meanwhile Frank is stepping away from you, shirt joining Matt’s across the gym and jeans following not long after.

You were used to staring at Matt’s scarred and muscular form, but Frank’s sculpted, but slightly beefier body is also decorated with the ghosts of his past. You can’t help but salivate at how well his toned muscles look as he frees his cock and removes the last of his clothing.

He pumps himself a few times while Matt kisses you deeply, guiding you downward.

The squishy gym floor beneath you cushions your knees as you crawl on all fours towards Matt, who is shimmying out of his cargo pants and laying down before you.

Frank follows closely as you makeout with Matt, continuing to touch himself at the sight of your bare body splayed out on the mat. He lunges forward to place a few kisses down your spine as you’re bending forward, ass in the air and inches away from taking Matt into your mouth.

As you begin to suck Matt’s length, his low moans echo out through the musty gym, lips parted in pleasure.

Once Frank is satisfied with how much you’ve got Matt worked up, he slides back up behind you, lining himself up with your entrance. You moan into Matt’s cock as Frank pushes into you.

Alternating between your mouth and your hand, you work Matt up until his eyes are pressed shut, overwhelmed by all the sensory input of Frank fucking you. Matt seizes the opportunity to sit up a little and kiss you deeply, just as Frank begins to increase the harshness of his thrusts. You can’t help but cry out in little mewls and whimpers, as Matt moves kisses down your neck and jaw and guides your lips over his cock once more.

Your legs feel as though they may give out from under you at any moment based on how violently they’re trembling. With Frank only increasing his rhythm and Matt now thrusting up to meet your face and running his nails along your back has you careening closer and closer to your edge once more.

Unable to hold back, you cum with a cry, Matt and Frank both lunging to put their lips all over your skin as you do, sandwiching you in a throng of sweaty flesh and ecstasy.

Pulled fully on your knees now, Matt reaches down to where Frank was just fucking you, running his fingers through your folds again and sending your already overstimulated nerves into over drive.

The room around you now feels stifling, the heat of three bodies in such a state of activity not able to compete with the squeaky and outdated hvac system buzzing above you head. Frank and Matt are both damp, hair sticking to their flushed foreheads as their mouths hang agape in an attempt to slow their panting. Matt’s hazel eyes dart back and forth, reading the signs that both you and Frank are ready for more; the steadying of your heartbeats, the evening of your breaths, and the minuscule sounds of both your muscles relaxing as the seconds tick on. Even though you’ve leveled out a little bit, you’re still dizzy with pleasure and your heart rate surges right back up as Matt moves to position you on your back.

“Atta girl.” Frank encourages as the sticky flesh of your back meets the soft, rubbery floor. He’s laying down beside you, hands roaming over your breasts and taking a nipple into his mouth just as Matt pushes himself forward, beginning to work his tongue all over your pussy.

The crescendo of pleasure begins to grow deep within you again, Matt knowing just how to expertly play you like a conductor leading a symphony as he kisses and sucks on your clit. He inserts a finger just as Frank grabs your jaw, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

Frank’s kisses move down your jaw and towards your ear, whispering sweet praises while Matt continues to eat you.

“Shit sweetheart, look so pretty when you cum. Knew you would. Let me see it again, come on, all over Red’s face. Atta girl.”

While Matt is always phenomenal in bed, never have you heard him talk as filthy as Frank. Usually his moans and grunts turned you on plenty, but Frank’s words are a welcome, new sensation that has another orgasm crashing through you before you even realize its happening.

You practically shove Matt off you as you know he’d be content to just keep going until you were over stimulated to the point of tears. He chuckles and wipes away the slick you left on his mouth and chin.

“Sweetie, you want to help Frank finish while I remind you who you belong to? Hm?” Matt asks as he crawls to hover over you, lining up just the tip of his cock with your slit and causing your cunt to clench around nothing

“Yes, Matt.” you respond, propping yourself up on your elbows so Frank can have his turn fucking your mouth

Frank’s scoff is cut off with a groan of pleasure as you wrap your mouth around him and suck his length towards the back of your throat.

“What Castle?” Matt asks, still teasing your hole while he listens to you blow Frank “You think just because I’m sharing doesn’t mean she’s only mine?”

“Ah shit– I know Red. I know.” Frank replies, chin tilted down to watch the way you look up at him as you swallow him down

“Good.” Matt responds, before harshly thrusting all the way into you.

The vibrations of your moans from how intensely you’re getting fucked, plus the sight of you taking Matt’s dick while sucking him off causes a build up in Frank much quicker than he’d like. Part of his ego doesn’t want to finish before Matt, so he guides you by the jaw off of him and resumes laying on the floor, supporting your head with his chest and guiding your hand to his hardness so he can watch the show and also help you cum a final time while staving off his own orgasm a little while longer.

“That’s it sweetheart” he coos in your ear, hand steady around your throat while you stare up into his eyes and work him over with your hand. Your skin feels on fire as they toy with you, every brush of them against you like electricity firing through your nerves.

You can tell Matt is close by the way his face is scrunched up, focusing on only the feeling of your body beneath his and trying to tune out the rest of the world around. You can only assume Frank is as well, based on how much tighter his grip has gotten around your neck as you continue to jack him off and by how his sweet praises are now replaced with grunts occasionally punctuated by a singular swear word.

Frank reaches his calloused fingers down to goad you along, rubbing your clit in smooth circles, a stark contrast to the harshness of Matt’s now faltering pace.

The slapping of skin over and over combined with the lust-filled groans and moans all of you are making has your head spinning and your final orgasm blooms like a rose in late July, soft and warm and delicate in a way that only these two working in tandem can give you.

Frank watches as you fall apart a final time, not stopping his assault on your sensitive bud until he’s satisfied with how hard you've orgasmed.

You’re totally spent and laying back against Frank. Too distracted by how delicious every drag of Matt’s cock feels against your satisfied walls, you let him use you while you revel in the dissipating fizz of your body being so thoroughly fulfilled. Barely able to even reach up and stroke the taught muscle of Matt’s chest, you do though as a small act of gratitude for sharing you tonight and allowing you to experience such pleasure. Frank takes over for your weak and trembling hands, touching himself while kissing whatever area of your skin he can reach to bring you back down.

Matt’s senses are overwhelmed. The smell of pure sex invades his nostrils and he can still feel the aftershocks of your orgasm in the light pulses of your velvety walls every time he drives into you. Frank’s musky scent blends so beautifully with your natural, floral smell and hearing your satisfied sighs being breathed into Frank's soft kisses is the most beautiful music he’s ever heard. Your hands trace down from his chest and rest on the back of his thighs, encouraging him to find his nirvana as his thrusts become erratic.

“Matty.” you let out in a breathy lament and it finally tips him off the cliff, spilling inside you with a low moan that will echo in your ears for days to come.

Frank, unable to hold himself back any longer and cheekily pleased that he held off longer than Matt, even if it was only for a moment, spills across his stomach and chest as you kiss him through his orgasm while still stroking Matt’s skin to bring him down.

The three of you collapse side by side under the humming fluorescent lights of the gym, labored breathing finally slowing as you all come back to reality.

“Tell you what Red, that was a hell of a warm up for your girl. Ain’t that right sweetheart?” Frank finally speaks up, gravely voice cutting through the silence.

“You’ve got to be kidding Frank, I am not training tonight after all that!” you argue back

Frank turns towards you and presses a kiss to your temple before standing up and finding his clothes.

“Matt, c’mon back me up here.” you turn to your boyfriend and watch as his signature cheeky grin spreads wide across his face.

“You know my dad and I had this mantra, this thing we’d say before every fight he had ‘It ain't how you hit the mat. It's how you get up.’

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It means, you better get back up and do what Frank tells you.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #frank castle #frank castle x reader #charlie cox #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil imagine #jon bernthal

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