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anika-ann · 24 days

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Ocaruj me (Bewitch Me) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; drabbl-ish; a part of this pseudo-medieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 2k

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers is a man with love. That love is you. His beautiful lady who bewitched his soul even without the supernatural powers you possess. He'll follow you anywhere.

It that means bathing in a lake in a moonlight, so be it.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, fluff, knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Očaruj mě (Bewitch Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a "č" and an “ě“ in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; inspired by THIS ask (you can find headcanons and a playlist there)

A/N 2: Chronologically fits before the events of Pomiluj mě, but if you read this first, you will spoil some of the reveals.

Magic is a dark evil thing; that is what all knights of the kingdom are reminded during their studies and training.

Magic is the wicked twine that curls around your wrist when you reach out a hand, grips you tight and drags you towards perdition.

Magic takes face of a twisted beauty, a temptress, and leads you down the path of sin with a smile worth of the Devil himself.

Magic only knows curses and wrongs.

Sir Steven Rogers knows these axioms by heart.

Steve knows they are horseshit; or at least fail to fulfil the basic rule of an axiom, which is supposed to be universality.

In Steve’s eyes, people are corrupted by many things, amongst which there is the power that comes with magic. That much is true. But the nature of magic itself is pure; t reveals the person wielding it and amplifies who they already are.

Steve would only agree with part of the axiom second to last, assured whenever he sees you. He would now too, standing near the bank of a lake, still fully clothed, his gaze inevitably drawn to the enticing image in front of him.

You, standing to the waist in the water, dressed in but the luxurious robe of moonlight caressing your skin and wearing the lake like the richest skirt; your hair cascading down freely like an elaborate veil, the commonly dark ink of your tattoo reaching from the side of your neck down your shoulder shinning bright.

When you glance over your shoulder, eyes glimmering more entrancingly than the moon and the stars combined, lips curling in a smile, the last thing Steve would compare you to would be the Devil, a dark evil thing.

The truth, however, is that if you did decide to drag him towards his end, he would follow voluntarily, heart pounding just as hard as it is now, with warmth in his chest and searing heat in is gut.

When you speak his name, a sweet ‘rytier moj’, you indeed are every bit of a temptress, the seductress steering him toward the most beautiful of sins; but not in the name of evil.

In the name of love.

“How is it that you are not cold, bosorka moja? And by gods, remind me, love, why is it that I should follow?” he asks with a grin on his lips, as if he does not feel every ounce of his body being pulled to you by the alluring image of you alone, by the promise of the feel of your skin under his fingertips, of the taste of your lips, of your wickedly delicate hands touching him in ways no unwed lovers should.

You have told him there was a deeper meaning in bathing in that particular lake on this very night, but as fascinated as he always is by your faiths and magic, you have been convincing him with your lips whispering to his own, causing his memory to be considerably less reliable, his mind much more pliant.

You turn around to face him fully, your watery skirt swirling; Steve’s mouth turns dry at the sight of your stiff nipples and plump breasts, his last reservations dispersing as his pants become uncomfortably tight.

“For this lake is believed to possess supernatural properties, rytier moj. For I know it does,” you remind him gently, your gaze trailing down his body in appreciation as he sheds his cloak, his tunic and pants.

You once told him what you saw when he did and have aided him in recalling it quite frequently.

Beauty.

Strength.

Goodness.

Safety.

Home.

And desires personified.

Steve is only a man; all these are virtues in his mind, privileges, and the one that is not makes him preen all the more.

Dark eyes glimmering in the moonlight, your smile earns a teasing edge even as your words begin with gravity.

“Bathing in the light of the full moon nearest to the summer solstice makes one stronger. Something my knight might appreciate. I know I for sure would, since he insists on recklessly risking his life.”

His own lips curl up, heart humming with tenderness; he is cared for. He is worried about. He is loved. He is not the only one who has the comfort of a lover on their mind. Perhaps it is for ‘lovers’ is not quite the word fit for where his heart quivers in the matter of you and him. Not the only word.

Desire personified.

Gorgeous temptress.

But also beloved.

Láska moja.

Bosorka moja.

Home.

“All knights do, bosorka moja,” he says as he steps into the water, the liquid welcoming him with an unexpected sensation of cold and warmth combined.

Where his skin meets the water, immersed deeper with each tentative step on the invisible rocky floor, he is enveloped with an unfamiliar sensation, the warmth seeping into his skin almost violently, leaving gentle tingling in its wake.

His lungs expand. His heart thunders. His muscles ache until they feel as light as a feather. His large bones seem to harden, his joints feel stronger but pliant. His blood pumps vigorously, forcing a shuddering breath out of his chest.

Well, he’ll be damned; he would be if he wasn’t so blessed. He would never doubt you again. Not that he ever truly did.

You watch him, a hypnotic and hypnotizing gaze, soaked in the satisfaction and desire having thickened your tenderness. Your skin almost glows and Steve understands that his eyes were not deceiving him earlier. He is not the only one absorbing power; yours might be different in nature from his, so different and ethereal, a true force of nature, but a power nevertheless. And as you soaked in the water, your immense power grew further.

“And yet, I have not seen any knight, soldier or mercenary, nor the clumsiest commoner with as many scars, nor I saved them from so many,” you oppose him, still playful; yet, your voice has earned a husky quality Steve is drawn to like a mot to a flame, his steps growing confident.

For almost every step he takes, you take one back, away from him, sinking deeper, hiding your tempting body from his hungry sight. A delightful feigned chase begins, one of which you both know will only end in bodies intertwined. A dance Steve knows, for he has felt its thrill before, for he has danced with you before; he has danced lips to lips, hands to hips, hips to hips, lips attached to your mound with hooded eyes too, senses enveloped with heady primal need, laced with love both corporal and intangible.

It all hums within him, pounds with force bolstered by the magic surrounding him. You feel it too; he reads as much in your features.

“You haven’t seen them naked either,” he notes, a slight smile remaining.

The conversation continues even as it fades.

You hum with a smile of your own, stopping at last as takes three long strides and catches up with you, gazing up at him with a sweet challenge he cannot refuse. “That is true, rytier moj.”

But that is not what your body whispers, already miles ahead when only inches from him.

Touch me, it coaxes him instead.

Hold me.

Love me.

Have me.

Fill me.

Make me sing for you. Only for you.

Do as you crave; I crave the same, just as much.

Who is he to deny a lady? Who is he to deny you, especially when the wordless pleas entice him, please him, echo his own?

The slight prickle of strength reborn, one unknown to ordinary men, still heats his very core, his lips speaking on their own even as his fingers wander with purpose, over the skin of your waist, down your hip, over your belly button, to your sternum, over the swell of your breast, stepping closer to feel your hardened peaks brush against his chest, eliciting a breathy sound of his name amongst his questions.

“What of other blessed nights bathing in this lake? Equinoxes as well?”

Your hands move with purpose too; mapping the constellations of freckles and moles on his body, caressing the planes of strengthened muscle with teasing lightness. Your touch is surprisingly warm, Steve realizes distantly, his head and hands full of you; if he did not know better, if he did not know you were a witch, he would think you an entirely different magical species.

As you nod and explain, your hand rises above water, stroking over his shoulder – the water follows seemingly effortlessly, swirling and curling around your palm; even as you speak, he shudders under the touch where your hands could not have possibly reached him, not at so many places at once; and yet, every single of these caresses are just as warm, loving and teasing as those of your own fingers.

With how you bended the water to your will, Steve would have thought you were born to do so. He would have thought he found himself a water nymph instead. His breathtaking, enchantingly playful water nymph.

“Bathing in the lake on a new moon nearing the spring equinox breeds rebirth, ridding of all old aches, body and heart,” you explain quietly, intimately, as your fingers tease along the dip along his hips, his own hands grasping your soft flesh with urgency growing. “First new moon after the autumn equinox calls upon the forest spirits, their protection, bringing the wiseness of our ancestors with their blessings.”

Steve’s head is full of you; your words, almost fairy-tale like, but spoken with reverence of a person who knows them true, whose rituals has called upon the forces of nature and has been rewarded for it, blessed by them.

His hands are full of you too and as his heart sings.

The rest of his body vibrates with need, impatient fingers slipping lower, towards your core, teasing alongside your slit. Even as he asks the only natural question, his focus is elsewhere, fingertip dipping into your welcoming heat, his lips whispering against yours, your hips eagerly meeting his touch.

“And what of winter solstice, bosorka moja? Tell me,” he coaxes, revelling in your playful touch turning into a grip on his hip instead, other hand wrapping around his own to urge him to sink his finger deeper, for another to join.

Who is he to deny you again? His bewitching water nymph, whose heat would envelop him just as welcomingly as the water of the lake and fill him with just as much exceptional powerful sensation...

Love her.

Take her.

Protect her.

Make her mine.

“It keeps your heart warm,” you sigh, mouth chasing after his, fingertips finally brushing over his hardness, curling around the length and squeezing and twisting enough for his strained muscles to melt, rushing to lift your leg to wrap around his waist, opening you up for him, your taste, your scent, your husky voice like the most tempting trap he rushes into with vigour and pride. “Keeps your love safe. On the full moon close--- oh Steve— closest to the solstice- preserving it even through the— the harshest of winters----Steven!

The steady movements of his fingers stutter at the needy pulsing grip around them, eliciting another and another, his thumb brushing over your clit, mouth slanting over yours to swallow your cries of ecstasy, cradling your head to his as your hips keep rocking into his hand. You’ll feel like heaven, like you always do, but the burst inside him at feeling your pleasure coaxed by him is almost, almost enough.

“I’ll be here,” he promises against your lips, kissing you again, tipping your head back, your body so gorgeously pliant to his greedy touch. “I will be here, with you, every quarter a year. Every month, every day, love.”

“Ľubim ťa,” you gasp and Steve makes another promise, to not meet you here, but bring you. Bring you from your shared home at last, because even by the damn equinox, he will have done you right, a ring on your finger, his everything made yours, as you deserve.

“Ľubim ťa, bosorka moja,” he whispers back, a chuckle escaping him when his eyes flutter open, offered a sight of soft sprinkles and curls of water rising above the surface and glimmering in the moonlight.

Your magic exploding outside of you as pleasure fills your veins.

Steve is certain it will never cease to amaze him; or spur him to coax something even more fascinating when chasing his own peak and yours together, even as that alone is a gift he cherishes.

Your hands slide to his shoulders for leverage as his fingers leave you empty, moving to your bottom to lift you up, sliding in almost effortlessly.

No words are needed then. As you connect your bodies and souls alike, the water keeps dancing.

You glow behind Steve’s hooded eyes, tattoo shining as bright as your affection, beauty and goodness, a reminder that no, magic could not be further from the darkness in corporal form. In every waking moment, he would swear he has never seen, nor heard, nor felt anything more beautiful and lighter than you, even with a face and voice of a temptress you embody.

The only sin you have led him to, the only speckle of shame on his honour, is the one he will remedy soon and has nothing do with your magical nature.

No, not the Devil; a goddess in your own right.

And you have not cursed him, no. Sir Steven Rogers, tvoj rytier, entirely bewitched, feels blessed.

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Terms of endearment from Slovak language: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine) Ľubim ťa (I love you)

I hope you enjoyed, loves 💕 Please consider leaving feedback/reblog/anything if you did 🥰

May April be kind to you 🌼✨

#steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers #knight steve rogers x you #knight steve rogers imagine #knight steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america au #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #medeival au #fantasy au #fairy tale au #ocaruj me #bewitch me #pomiluj me #love me tender #anika ann

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topsyturvy-turtely · 3 months

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TURTELY JOINS FANDOMTRUMPSHATE

the game, lovely turtles, is on!!!

i am offering to write 1 Johnlock fanfiction, 5-10k words long. I am totally up for a Harry Watson fanfic too.

fluffy, angsty, (preferably) happy ending. no smut. my usual writing style i suppose... always wondered what i would do with a certain prompt? or don't wanna write an idea yourself? well lmk and we'll make it work.

i am COMPLETELY new to this and tbh it feels kind of insane rn 😅 soooo please be patient! :D

thanks for reblogging and spreading the word 🙃🐢

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @snonkerdoodlefizzy221b

#turtely #fandom trumps hate #fth 2024 #johnlock #bbc sherlock #harry watson #sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes

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ugh-yoongi · 8 months

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HOBI REQUESTS YAY! okay so at first i was thinking it might be hobi's birthday and he stays late at the studio regardless of the day and comes home to reader all tired and drained, but then reader has such a sweet surprise for him when he gets there (whether it be a cake, flowers, balloons, etc.) and it just seems like he can breathe again without the weight of his work on his chest, even if it's just for that night, he can fall asleep with no problem.

OR, considering it's in the name of jess' birthday, it could be reversed? reader's birthday and hobi has the sweet surprise instead? i don't have an idea of what specifically would be demanding so much of reader's attention, but coming home to hobi with his pretty smile on such a day seems like something so beautiful.

that's all i could muster up as of now, 🙃 if you chose to, feel free to play around with it until it's something you are comfortable with! <3

thank you so much for the request! i went with the first one and i hope you enjoy it! <3

(side note: i banged this out in one sitting so i'm tentatively optimistic that my writer's block is cured. we'll see. thank you all for your patience and not showing up in my ask box with pitchforks.)

ataraxia

pairing: hoseok x reader genre: est. relationship au; fluff, a tiny bit of angst warnings: hobi's kind of going through it so there are allusions to poor mental health, otherwise this is mostly fluff. just being there for your person when they're having a tough time. no gendered pronouns used. unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1k listen to: novo amor - anchor

Hoseok had heard once that babies born in the winter are stronger.

Something about mothers being able to absorb more vitamin D during the summer months.

As he collapses onto the floor of his studio, sweat and exhaustion blurring his vision, he thinks those people are full of shit. What has being born in winter gotten him besides muscle cramps and seasonal depression? Because he’s also at a higher risk for that, which those people lauding his athleticism tend to leave off of the discussion.

He sighs. He’s twenty-nine now, and there’s something truly haunting about the inevitability of time. Can’t slow it down, can’t make it go faster; he just has to sit here and take it. Next year he’ll be thirty, thirty-one the year after that, and on and on it’ll go for the rest of his life.

All he has are these little joys: the squeak of his new sneakers on the studio floor, the kids in his class finally nailing their routine, those peach iced teas he likes being buy one get one free this week at the convenience store next door. He has you, too, but you were smart and traded in your two-cent dreams for the corporate world and now you’re spending his birthday on a business trip to Singapore.

Yoongi would call him an asshole for that, probably. He has friends. Friends who want to see him, buy him a drink and give him gifts, and he appreciates the effort, he does, he’s just… tired. Fatigue has seeped into all of his bones and left him nothing more than a husk of a person. It’s been months of this same unending grind, and he’s running out of self to give.

At least Singapore is warm this time of year. In Seoul, beyond the frosted windows of his studio, there’s nothing but gray-brown slush and a patch of black ice he can’t melt no matter how much he salts it.

“Fuck this,” he mutters.

It’s nearing nine o’clock. He needs to get home; needs to eat something and drag himself into a hot shower before he crawls into bed and spends the entire weekend there. Needs to reply to all the texts on his phone wishing him a happy birthday. Needs to tactfully and politely turn down all the invitations. Needs to post some bubbly, colorful message on social media thanking everyone for the well-wishes and attach a photo from a few weeks ago because he hasn’t been smiling much lately.

First, though, he needs to get off the floor.

He usually likes his walk home. Likes pressing his face to the glass to look at all the window displays when he’s not in the mood to shop. Likes seeing other people go about their days, live their lives. Likes looking at all the ways the city reflects sunlight and fades to husky gold. Likes walking under the cherry blossoms in the spring; likes it even more when a few petals stick to his shoulders and you laugh and brush them off as soon as he comes through the door.

It’s hard to get off the floor when none of that is out there.

But he does it anyway, because maybe he has a bit of that winter strength. He packs up his stuff and sits at the bus stop, counts his exhales as they materialize in front of him, thankful for the heavy coat you’d bought for him a few years ago, now well-worn and no longer itchy. He sits at the back by himself and sends half-assed replies to all of those texts. Scrolls back to stare at the photo you’d sent him this morning—fresh from sleep and barefaced, lips pursed together in a kiss, thumb and pointer fingers together in a heart.

Slush sticks to his shoes as he ducks inside the building. Nearly trips climbing up the stairs, because the two of you live on the fourth floor and it feels too lazy to take the elevator, even when his muscles are screaming from a long day at the dance studio. But it keeps him moving. Keeps him upright and functional when all he wants to do is rot away.

His shoes are dry by the time he reaches the door, soaked into the carpet lining the hallway. His hands still bear the cold—red and unsteady, it takes him a few tries to punch in the code. Gets it wrong twice, and he takes a second to just… stand there, head resting against the door, feeling the weight of the world come down on him.

He’s not sure what he thought twenty-nine would be like, but surely it wasn’t this.

And maybe if he wasn’t feeling so low, he would’ve noticed. Your keys in the bowl by the door, your shoes in the rack. The light on in the kitchen. The smell of the miyeokguk simmering on the stove. The sound of your footsteps as you meet him where he stands, shoulders slumped, eyes brimming with tears and exhaustion.

“Hob-ah?”

There are hands on his face. Soft, he thinks. They’re touching him so softly, treating him just as delicately as he feels. He leans into it; recognizes the perfume stuck to the wrist. Knows it smells like home and an aching he can never seem to put a name to, and you don’t hesitate to wrap him tightly in your arms.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says, words waterlogged and hesitant as he speaks them into the crook of your neck. Nothing feels real, and he doesn’t trust himself to open his eyes.

You tangle your hands in his hair. Scratch lightly against his scalp. “I got an early flight home. Got back this afternoon.” This is where someone else would ask if he’s okay, try to pry apart his ribcage and look at all the ugly parts, but you don’t. There’s just a small intake of breath and the reluctance to let him go. “The miyeokguk is almost ready,” you say instead. “Do you want to take a shower while I get everything ready?”

Hoseok is reluctant to let go, too, but he’s at his best when he has a task. Needs something to accomplish, something to check off on his imaginary to-do list, so he nods. Pulls away and immediately misses your warmth. Takes your face in his hands and presses a kiss to your forehead. Thank you, it says. I needed you here.

You already know, though. You always do.

#hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok x you #jhope x you #hoseok x y/n #jhope x y/n #hoseok imagine #jhope imagine #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok au #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #fic: jess drabbles #jewel answers #jewel writes

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cethlyarlo · 6 months

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Imagine this with me for a sec, I'm here to break your heart with this silly little headcanon:

Baylan and Shin made their outfits.

When Shin was young and living with her family, she learned to sew because it was something commonly taught to all people within her community (like driving or riding a bike in ours). This means she grew up with the craft and is familiar with how to both sew by hand and with a machine. She knows how to darn, mend, and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if she knew a thing or two about embroidery, crochet, or knitting.

(oh my golly, imagine Sabine finding out Shin can crochet)

Anyways, fast forward to the first few years she and Baylan spent together on the run. Shin is officially an apprentice and they work together to survive, take contracts, teach, and learn. They do everything together, and because of their profession, they feel like they need ✨outfits✨ to appear more reputable to potential clients.

Now, if you look at the stitching on Shin's tunic compared to Baylan's, it's a lot neater. The color of fabric is uniform and overall, it's looks like it's held up fairly well to the abuse it's been through. Baylan's is... a little less neat, but still durable and it serves it's function.

Here's where I'm going with this:

Shin, in this scenario, is a relatively experienced seamster, or at least more experienced than most. This means that she probably had to teach Baylan a thing or two when it came to creating their outfits respectively, hence why the craftsmanship in Shin's appears a tad better than in Baylan's.

Now just imagine Baylan's pride towards trying to learn this new skill from his apprentice and inevitably succeeding after many failed attempts. He knows his handiworks isn't the best in the world, but he did it and it was his own apprentice that taught him how. It made his apprentice smile and that's really all that mattered in the end. It was probably a defining series of moments/activity in their relationship and it probably brought them closer as a Master and his Apprentice, or more like, a Father and his Daughter.

That's all 🙃

#shin hati #baylan skoll #ahsoka #star wars #headcanon #costume details #costume design #theory #ahsoka tano #ahsoka tv #i love them so much #I really am convinced this is canon #i also firmly believe Shin can knit and crochet #fight me #i dare you #sabine wren #ahsoka series #wolfwren

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goosewriting · 2 years

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Rise bros x reader 😤 it's a Yokai party hosted by Sunita where mysterious stranger reader is checking out the turtle, and the turtle is looking back, and theirs tension all night until reader approaches and is super flirty until they inevitably have to leave, and the reader and gives their number and the turtles just like wow that just happened, smitten with this stranger 🙃👍💗💗 love your writing

I couldn’t help but notice you’re staring

summary: the turtles keep catching a stranger stealing glances at them all night

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie x GN reader (separate)

warnings: nothing really? i’m not even sure this counts as fluff lol

word count: 3186

A/N: the drummer ask hit a special spot in my heart because i was a drummer back in high school and it was the best :’) when i read it i immediately thought of a hidden city party setting, so when i got the yokai party one i thought they’d go perfect together! so i decided to combine them. hope i could make them both justice :D

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

After some exciting months at April’s school, Sunita decided to host a big farewell party, since her exchange programme came to an end.

It took place in the Hidden City, and there were humans and yokai guests alike.

The turtles were of course ecstatic that they could be at such a big party. Sunita had even invited a band to play some music later. And thanks to her dad, it was Hueso who was in charge of the catering, so the four brothers were very busy gulping down some of the best food they’d had in a while.

That was until one of them abruptly looked up and around, dismissing the food for a second. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

🔵 Leo

You were standing on the other side of the hall, the light from the disco ball on the ceiling painting colourful and spinny patterns on the floor. You leaned with your back on the wall, arms crossed, and your eyes watching that turtle with a blue bandana intently. Ever since his group entered the room, there was just something about him that made you focus all of your attention on him.

Leo sat at the table, scanning the crowd with a light squint, until his gaze fell on you. He gulped down the rest of his food at how intensely you were looking at him. The room wasn’t lit all too well but even so he could tell there was this air of confidence around you, he was slightly intimidated. Not to mention that you looked stunning.

Throughout the night, he felt like he was being watched, and every time he turned around, lo and behold, there you were. You could be chatting with your friends, laughing, and just as he turned around, you’d steal a glance at him and shoot him a smile.

When Leo went to the drinks table to get some juice, again he felt like he was being watched. As inconspicuous as he could, he turned around again, and a couple tables farther back, you were helping yourself to the donuts, and again you shot a glance his way.

It was driving him insane, to be honest. It was clearly an invitation to go talk to you, but for some reason, just the thought of approaching you made him super nervous.

Just as he finally gathered enough courage to make his way to you, he couldn't find you anywhere. He went to Mikey to ask him if he had seen you, but suddenly the lights were turned off.

One single spotlight showed someone on the stage, presenting the band. The crowd cheered, and Leo decided to enjoy the music, since he wouldn't be able to find you in the darkness either way.

The curtains opened to reveal a band of four, which apparently consisted of both yokai and humans, as far as he could tell. All members were wearing masks so he wasn’t entirely sure.

“One, two, three, four!” the drummer counted, hitting the drum sticks to mark the tempo, and the band started jamming. The crowd cheered and clapped; they were really good.

Leo was enjoying the music, when he noticed something strangely familiar about the drummer. The way they moved, it was so full of grace and passion; he couldn't help but be quite mesmerised at the sight.

After a couple of songs, the announcer said they’d be taking a break but coming back up later. Just as the curtains were closing, the drummer faced the crowd one last time, both drum sticks in one hand, and pointed at them. For everyone else it probably seemed like they were just pointing at the crowd in general, thanking them for being a good audience, but Leo knew they were pointing at him. And that’s when he recognised your jacket; you’re the one who had been looking at him all night, driving him crazy.

He went by the stage and waited for the band members to come out. You came out last, still with your mask on. Upon seeing him wait for you at the door, you took off the garment hiding your face.

“Hey Blue” you greeted the turtle in a sing-song voice. Leo was caught completely off-guard, you looked even better up close.

“So…” he started. “I’ve kinda been feeling eyes boring into the back of my head all night and was wondering what that was about.” He gave you his signature smirk, trying to seem unphased.

“Can you blame me? It’s not every day I come across a handsome turtle like yourself.”

Leo’s heart skipped a beat. Had he finally met someone to keep up with his banter? Just as he was to retort, the other band members called for you.

“Look, I’d love to catch up, but I gotta go. Here” you took a pen and a piece of paper out of your pockets and scribbled something on it. “Why don’t we meet after the second part of the show? Would love to get to know you better.” You winked at him, pressing the paper into his hands.

Before Leo could even answer, you were gone. He blinked twice, trying to understand what just happened. Looking at the paper in his hand, he saw a phone number and your name with a little heart next to it.

Well, this night just got a lot more interesting, he smiled to himself, already typing the number into his phone.

🔴 Raph

Looking around the crowd, Raph scanned the room with his eyes, until his gaze connected with yours.

You were sitting a couple of tables farther back, laughing at something your friend said, but you were looking at him. Or maybe just in his general direction? Raph shook off the paranoid feeling from before, and resumed to enjoy his food.

A couple of minutes later though, he felt the same again. Looking up from his plate, he looked in your direction once more, and there you were, head propped on your elbow, looking at him. With your other hand, you gave him a little wave. Your friends stole some glances his way as well and giggled, and you joined them.

Were you messing with him? You were pretty cute though. What was even happening.

Raph was very confused, to say the least.

Throughout the night, whenever he felt like he was being watched, somewhere nearby you were stealing glances at him, shooting him smiles, waves, and- was that a wink? Raph’s brain short-circuited. Just as Mikey was shaking him by the shoulders, asking what was wrong, the lights shut off to show the announcer on the stage.

When the curtains lifted, he immediately recognised you sitting at the drums. Mainly because you shot him another of your smiles, which by now he realised he actively seeked out.

He had thought you were cute before, but seeing you now jamming out to the music, being so fierce and intense, for some reason it added even another layer of cuteness in his eyes.

As the band finished playing their last song, as the announcer said, the crowd started cheering, asking for one more jam. The band members looked at each other and agreed. The audience cheered and clapped.

Just as they were getting into position to start one last song, the drummer called the singer to them, and whispered something in their ear.

“This one goes out to Big Red!” the singer said into the mic, and then they started playing.

Mikey, who was standing next to Raph, elbowed his side, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“Stop it” Raph brushed his brother off, but blushed nonetheless. He hoped you weren’t able to see it from the stage (you did).

After the band was done playing, he tried to come up with a plan. He really wanted to talk to you, but how? When he asked Mikey, he got some advice from Dr. Feelings, which wasn’t all too practical to be honest. So he took a deep breath and decided to just go and talk to you normally.

He was nervous and a bit stiff, but he quickly found you in the crowd, talking to some fans, apparently. The other people scattered just as he stood in front of you, towering over you unintentionally. You didn’t seem the least bit scared though.

“Did you like that last song, Red?” you asked, looking up at him, batting your eyes.

“S-Sure did!” he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “You were really good on the drums.”

“Most important member of the team! I carry the others on my back…” you proudly said, pointing at your shoulders with both thumbs. “…so they can shine.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling” Raph said softly, thinking about how he wanted to support his brothers for them to reach their full potential.

“So…” he started again, looking away. “You’ve been kinda looking at me all night. Was there something you wanted to say?”

You smiled mischievously at him, taking out a folded piece of paper out of your pocket.

“There’s a lot I want to say but this isn’t the place. Why don’t we catch up later, Red?” you placed the paper in his hand, your touch lingering just a second longer than necessary, and left to reunite with your band.

Raph opened the paper in his hand to reveal your number and name. He clenched his fist with the paper in a feeling of success.

Like a boss, he complimented himself.

🟠 Mikey

Scanning the crowd with a “hmm”, he rubbed his chin and let his eyes wander over the people. His gaze stopped when it connected to someone else’s eyes.

Noticing that he had seen you, you smiled at him and gave him a little wave.

Mikey’s heart did a somersault. The way you were looking at him like he was a snack… Oh mi gosh, he thought to himself, and brought his focus back to his brothers and the food.

“What’s wrong, Mikey?” Raph asked, concerned. “Your face is super red.”

“Nothing!!” Mikey retorted. “Everything’s cool.”

“Right…”

Just as he was forgetting about you, once again immersed in the debate with Donnie about the best Hidden City pizza toppings, Leo elbowed his side.

“Bro” Leo said, almost in disbelief. “I think that person over there is checking you out.”

Mikey’s eyes followed to where Leo was pointing, and indeed he was right. There you sat, just a couple tables over, giving him a once over with a smile. You were clearly not trying to hide it.

Mikey’s face went red once more, and he turned around to avoid your gaze.

“Aw, baby brother. They grow up so fast.” Raph cooed. “Why don’t you go talk to them?”

“Isn’t the band about to play?” the orange turtle diverted the topic. “Let’s get closer to the stage!”

His brothers shared an amused look but agreed, and made their way to join the audience, already eagerly waiting.

As the announcer was on stage, Mikey looked around trying to find you in the crowd, but to no avail: you were nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or a bit disappointed.

The curtains lifted and the band stood in position to play. All members were wearing masks, and Mikey couldn't recognise anyone.

Their music was really good, and Mikey jammed out, playing air guitar and everything. The band played a couple of covers of well known songs as well, and he sang along to the lyrics he knew. When they were done, he was pretty out of breath, and cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

Just as the band was leaving the stage to take a break, the drummer lifted up the mask slightly, and made eye contact with Mikey, who was standing pretty close to the stage by now. Recognising that it was you from before, Mikey gave a shy wave, and you winked at him, leaving him a blushing mess yet again.

Leo was poking fun at him, when he saw you approach them from behind Mikey, and with one last jab of his elbow he left, calling a “Good luck~” over his shoulders.

Mikey tilted his head in confusion, but turned around when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He came face to face with you, and blushed for the upteenth time that night.

Cute, you thought.

“So, rocker boy, I take it you enjoyed the music?” you asked, imitating his air guitar from earlier.

“Yeah, I did! You guys were great” he replied earnestly.

“Have you ever played a real guitar?” you asked, looking him up and down once more.

“Not really, I don’t play any instrument actually” Mikey said, avoiding your gaze and scratching his cheek in thought. Then his eyes found yours again. “But if I had to choose I think I’d go with the drums. They’re the coolest, if you ask me.”

“Well, you know I’ll agree to that!” you laughed. “Good thing I used this then and not the guitar or bass” you said, giving him your drumsticks.

“Wha-“ Mikey started but you cut him off, placing your other hand on his chest. “Just consider them a souvenir.”

You took a couple steps back, holding one fist to the side of your face, thumb and pinky finger stretched out, and mouthed ‘Call me’. Then you turned on your heels and joined your band members.

Mikey was left quite flabbergasted. What just happened?, he kept repeating in his head. That was until he looked at the drumsticks in his hands and noticed that you had written your name on one and your number on the other.

Maybe he’d ask you for some drumming lessons, after all.

🟣 Donnie

Donnie finished chewing the last bit of food he had in his mouth, scanning the crowd with a grumble. He was about to use his goggles, when his gaze fell on yours.

You were not too far away, pouring yourself a drink, but didn’t break eye contact with him. You merely smiled at him, bringing the drink to your lips and taking a sip, then turned around and joined your group of friends.

Donnie brushed it off as probably being in your line of sight for someone behind him, and brought his attention back to the food and the shenanigans of his brothers.

The whole night he kept feeling like he was being watched though. Every time he turned around, you were somewhere nearby, stealing glances at him. It was getting on his nerves. If you wanted something, why not just talk to him?

It must be the bad boy persona, he reasoned with himself. They’re clearly intimated but can’t keep their eyes from me, understandable.

After coming to that conclusion, he found himself actively seeking you out, trying to get your eyes to meet his, and give you a smug grin. You responded with a little wave and a smile every time. Lingering looks and shy smiles went back and forth, except for this time, when he was once again trying to be nonchalant about it, but it was obvious he was looking for you. So when he once again smiled and gave a little wave of his own, you looked him up and done once, smiled, but then bit your bottom lip. That took him off-guard. Had you been flirting this whole time? He just wanted to follow your little game. Wait, what-

The lights were shut off, and the announcer stood on the stage, presenting the band for the night. All four of them had masks on, making them hard to recognise or even tell apart.

Donnie however didn’t get too much about the first songs since in his brain he was running every possible scenario and calculation on what had happened, how it happened, and what to do the next time he’d catch you looking at him. Had he even caught you? Or did you let yourself be caught? Or was it actually him getting caught for looking at you?

He only came back to reality with an elbow jab from Leo, giving him a smug look, as the singer had just announced that the drummer wanted the next song to go out to “Handsome Purple”.

The show was over all too soon, before Donnie could formulate a solid plan in his head, and the crowd started to scatter after cheering.

He went to look for April; she was his best shot at making some sense out of this whole situation.

Just as he was about to take a step in her direction, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Thinking it was Leo again to make fun of him, he turned around with an unamused look. When he saw you, he was just surprised.

“Ah, the drummer” he said, seeing as you were holding your drumsticks in your hand.

“Did you enjoy the show?” you asked amused, since he clearly hadn’t recognised you.

“Yes, it’s not what I usually listen to but it was a nice change of pace. Could use some synthetiser though…” He added that last part under his breath.

“Is that so, Purple?” you asked and took off your mask. Donnie gasped in surprise.

“You…!” Pointing at you with an accusing finger, he tried to come up with something to say. “All night, you’ve been terrorising me, and…” His mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing else came out. You just laughed, not to make fun of him, but because you were amused by his reaction. Placing your hand on his, you pulled it down so he wasn’t pointing at you anymore. You didn’t remove your hand from his however.

“Me?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I’m pretty sure by the end it was you who was looking for me, hm?” You quirked one eyebrow up at him. “Guess you couldn’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

“Scoff!” Donnie said and placed his other hand on his hip. The one you were holding he didn’t move to pull away. “It was you who started. Clearly it was you who couldn’t keep your eyes off all of this.” He gestured at himself. “And apparently your hands neither.” He smirked.

“Ah, you got me” you smiled at him. “Let me make it up to you, here.” You took out your phone, opening your contact list and adding a new one. For the name you wrote ‘Handsome Purple’.

“Care to share your digits? You strike me as a numbers person.” you asked him. Donnie said that you were indeed right, with a triumphant smile, and gave you his number.

Saving the contact, you put your phone away and said your goodbyes, since you had to meet up with your band for the next part.

“Ah, wait!” Donnie called when you were a couple of steps away. “I’m Donatello by the way, most call me Donnie. I didn’t catch your name?”

“My name is Y/n” you retorted and once again gave him a once over with mischievous eyes. “But you can call me whatever you like.”

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt x reader #el-chiste

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coconutcordiale · 2 years

Note

hi! congratulations on 500!!🥳✨

could i request roommates with rooster for the bingo if it hasn’t been taken already? 🤍

you taste just like sundays (dripping off my tongue)

pairing- rooster x female!reader

warnings- 18+ minors DNI, dom bradley, oral (m receiving), degradation kink, probably not a good idea to fuck your roommate if i'm being honest but live ur life, the ‘miles teller is a mean dom so let’s pretend rooster is too’ club unites at dawn (or whenever I get around to posting this)

length- 3.3k

an- thank you so much!!! i'm sorry this took so long :( and of course apologies if this is not your thing i just run away in wild directions with these prompts

500 follower celly prompts are done yay! only took me over a month 🙃

title from u taste like sundays by łaszewo. i thought it was funny because i'm immature

You’re debating the merits of Kodiak Cakes versus Eggo frozen waffles on a late-night shopping run when you hear your name coming from a familiar voice.

You try not to tense up, but the smile on your face feels like plastic when you turn around to see the blonde. “Justin, hi.”

“I can see why you didn’t want me to come in last night.”

You pause. That’s one hell of a greeting.

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you let the freezer door slam shut, a gush of cold air raising the hair on your arms. “What?”

He gives a pointed look towards Bradley, who wandered from you moments before Justin waltzed up, still in his uniform. “Didn’t take you for a tag chaser.”

You fight the sudden urge to roll your eyes obnoxiously.

“He’s my roommate,” you respond through gritted teeth.

At least you know for sure you made the right call to not sleep with Justin last night after your mediocre date, no matter how frustrated you’ve been lately, no matter how much he reminds you of a poor woman’s Austin Butler.

He may be pretty, but he's still a dick.

Given that you don’t actually know Austin Butler, you can only hope he’s less of a dick than this guy.

Justin scoffs, “Sure, he is.”

You didn’t mind Justin’s cocksureness when you first met him in line at your favorite coffee shop, liked it even. He paid for your iced oat milk latte, forward and confident in a way only men who always got what they wanted could be.

When he brought up taking you to dinner, it hadn’t even been a question, not really. You were surprised at how much you didn’t hate the inevitability that existed in his suggestion, like he always knew you’d say yes.

But then, he spent the entire date talking about himself, hardly letting you get a word in edgewise, and had the audacity to get angry when you didn’t invite him into your bed. So, now, you kind of want to wring his neck, twisting until the last bit of his undeserved, obnoxious pride is depleted from his annoyingly muscled body.

“Is this the fruit you like for your smoothies?” Bradley asks, oblivious, as he ambles back up to you with a red bag boasting tropical fruit blend on the front.

When you don’t answer, too busy grinding your teeth together and imagining what it'd be like to knee this overgrown frat boy in the balls, Bradley looks up from the bag, spine straightening as he clocks the tension between you and Justin.

“Hey man,” your mustached roommate says slowly, carefully, extending a hand towards Justin. “I’m Bradley.”

Justin stares at the outstretched hand in disgust and it drops back to Bradley’s side. You finally give in to the urge to roll your eyes.

The thing is the last couple of guys you slept with were so courteous, so sweet, so nice. They were barely a cut above adequate, leaving you with an itch to scratch, discontent trembling beneath your skin.

By the time you ran into Justin, you were embarrassingly ready for someone bolder. Someone a little more confident, a little more willing to take charge.

Someone a little more like Bradley, your mind supplies.

Shut up, you shouldn’t even know that, you tell it.

Unfortunately for you and your imagination, you do, in fact, know that Bradley would likely check every box that you’re looking for. The thin walls of your shared apartment ensured that months ago.

Lies to yourself aside, two minutes into a bruschetta appetizer with Justin, you had realized he was likely only going to take charge in disappointing, selfish, and unsatisfying ways.

“Don’t waste your time with her,” Justin tells him, acid dripping from every syllable. “She’s a fucking cock tease.”

Bradley’s eyes flash in anger, the bag crinkling audibly as he takes out his ire on frozen fruit. “You sure that’s something you want to have said to me?”

You watch Justin size him up, probably noting the couple of inches your roommate has on him.

“She’s not worth this shit,” he spits before turning on his heel to stalk out of the aisle.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight for a moment when he leaves, ignoring Bradley’s eyes on you. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bradley nods tersely, silently following you to the checkout line, waffles forgotten.

“That’s the guy you had over last night?” Bradley asks finally when you two make it back home and are busy putting things away, disdain ringing clear through the apartment.

“No, I didn’t let him come up,” you snap, knowing it comes out a little harsher than your roommate deserves. “He called me a cock tease, remember? Because apparently letting him buy me dinner means I’m supposed to put out.”

He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry.”

The silence stretches out awkwardly between you, the refrigerator humming as you try to focus all your attention on the absurd number of cereal boxes in the pantry.

“It just sounded like you were having a good time when I got home last night,” he mumbles.

You freeze, wondering if it’s possible to will a blush back down your body. How did you not hear him come in last night?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rooster,” you manage a flippant tone you don’t feel at all, continuing to move things around the cupboard haphazardly.

“Didn’t mean to overstep,” he says innocently, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter across from you in your tiny galley kitchen. “I’m not judging, more impressed, didn’t know you were such a player. Going out with one guy, calling another over after.”

“I didn’t,” you defend without thinking, and you immediately want to slap your hand over your mouth.

You can feel the heat of his body at your back now, and silently will your hands to stay steady as you organize cereal boxes.

The man is such a slut for Shredded Wheat. He’s probably the only person keeping them in business at this point.

You wish you didn’t find his penchant for shitty cereal as endearing as you do.

“Oh?” He says, but there’s a shift in his tone, voice at least a couple of octaves lower now. “So, you didn’t booty-call some guy named Bradley after you kicked blondie to the curb?”

Your mouth drops open in shock. What a little shit.

You exhale shakily, knowing there’s no way you can fight the pink rising to your cheeks now. “I don’t know what you thought you heard—”

“Don’t be like that, princess,” he rumbles in your ear, sending chills all the way down your spine. “Next you’re gonna tell me it was just a dream.”

You bite your lip. How could he possibly know that was the excuse you were going to try?

He chuckles, something wicked lighting up his coffee-colored eyes as he turns you around and backs you against the counter, pulling boxes out of your hands and tossing them in the pantry without looking. “Fine, I’ll bite. What did you dream about?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you whisper, refusing to meet his eyes.

Unfortunately for your dwindling self-control, this puts your gaze right at his chest where his flight suit is partially unzipped, tan skin glowing against his black undershirt.

It’s clear he’s taunting you now. “That so? Have those dreams about me a lot?”

You furrow your brows. It’s hard to think with him this close, the spice of his aftershave muddling your senses. “That’s…not what I meant.”

“I have those ‘dreams’ about you too. Never knew you felt the same, or I might’ve said something before.”

You’re torn between elbowing him in the ribs for his obvious air quotes and dropping to your knees at the sheer dominance he’s exuding that threatens to choke you in this tiny kitchen.

Bradley must sense your hesitation because his fingers begin rubbing soothing circles at the pulse points on your wrists.

“I could tell you what I did after I heard your gorgeous voice moaning my name,” he offers, gently, softer than you expect, given he’s spent the last five minutes barely holding back his amusement.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

He trails a hand up your side, leaving goosebumps underneath the thin material of your t-shirt. “Was hard as a fucking rock, baby, you sounded so beautiful. Came in my fist thinking about how wet you must’ve been dreaming about me.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” you admit, still quiet.

He smirks at that. “I know.”

Glaring at him, there’s an accusation lacing your words. “You also knew I didn’t sleep with him last night.”

You want to smack the smug look right off his rosy cheeks when he agrees, “He doesn’t look like a Bradley.”

You don’t, though, eyes drifting to where your hands are trapped against the counter, Bradley’s weight pinning you still.

“I know what you need,” he murmurs, voice like caramel in your ears.

“And what’s that?” You fire back with a strength you don’t feel, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control over this situation that’s rapidly spiraling.

Bradley is unphased by your attitude. “I think you know, otherwise you’d have invited him up here.”

You remain defiantly silent, hoping your expression remains blank. His mouth twitches upwards as he sees right through you.

“Why didn’t you let him come up, baby?”

You avert your eyes, uncomfortable under his intense gaze because directed at you, you’ve never seen his eyes quite like this.

Bradley isn’t exactly known for being even-keeled, his temper often flaring as he lets people get under his skin. But he’s never been like that with you, never stared at you with anything but puppy dog brown eyes.

Until now.

Now, there’s a fire lighting them up. A fire you always assumed was reserved for flying multi-million-dollar airplanes or arguing with Jake Seresin.

Despite that, his voice is eerily calm when he hooks a finger under your chin, forcing your attention upwards. “Answer me, princess.”

“Knew he couldn’t give me what you can.”

Pink lips quirk up fully at that. “And how would you know that? Heard me before?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks in answer, and you find yourself fighting the urge to duck your head again.

“Did that make you jealous, baby?”

You let out a small breath and gather the last of your courage. “A little. Mostly just made me wet.”

Bradley unleashes a dry chuckle that has you running hot and cold with embarrassment before he speaks again, low and gravelly.

“Better than me. Makes me fucking angry,” he grumbles in your ear. “The thought of that idiot’s hands on you.”

It’s finally your turn to smirk, although it feels a little weak in the face of his intensity. “It’s a good thing I’ve always kept my dates away when you were home then, huh?”

Bradley’s mouth presses together in a hard line, expression turning to stone. You know you shouldn’t be proud of the way his grip tightens on your wrists, the way his nostrils flare in irritation. You take advantage of his momentary lapse to switch your positions, pressing him back against the counter.

You want nothing more than to get your mouth on him and drive every memory of other girls from his mind. You weren’t lying when you said you weren’t jealous at the time, but you can’t help the competitive part of you that wants him to know he won’t find anyone else like you.

Before you can, he grabs you by the elbows, pulling you to him for a filthy kiss. Your first kiss.

Huh.

You want to laugh, suddenly, that you were ready to have your mouth well acquainted with his cock before you even got to kiss him.

Bradley sucks in a sharp breath once you break away from his lips, eyes pools of black as he notices you trying to move to the floor. “Gonna get on your knees and take care of me?”

“Well, I have to make sure you forget those girls somehow,” you tease, sliding your hands across his abs as you shift downwards.

“If I had thought for a second I could have you instead they never would’ve made it past the front door.”

You roll your eyes at him for patronizing you but busy yourself tugging down the zipper of his flight suit instead of saying something that’ll get you in trouble.

Mouthing at his hardening cock over his boxer briefs, your fingers toy with his waistband but don’t pull them down. You’re fighting back a giggle, giddy and feeling pretty proud of yourself as you listen to his breath catch, as you see his hands grip the counter behind him.

When he opens his mouth there might as well be ice in his breath, a warning in his tone that sends shivers straight to your core. “Don’t tease me, baby, you’ll regret it.”

You acquiesce, pressing your lips together to hold in a smile, thinking it’ll go unnoticed but Bradley’s eyes flare anyways.

“Was gonna be sweet to you,” he drawls. “But I don’t think that’s what you want. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be trying to rile me up.”

Your eyes are stuck on where he strains against his black briefs, words becoming harder and harder to form the longer you perch on the tile floor.

He runs a strong finger across your jaw and you swallow hard in anticipation. “Harder to tell me than it is to push and try my patience, isn’t it?”

All you can manage is a tiny nod.

“Answer me,” Bradley says again, but this time the words are harsh, steel bracing his tone. "Use your words, princess."

You bite your lip, trying not to moan at the hand he’s busy tangling in your hair. He notices, because of course he does, and tugs, pulling the words from you.

“No, sweet is not what I want,” you whisper, blinking up at him slowly.

He grins at that, and you shudder at how mean, how mischievous that expression looks.

Bradley grabs your hands, placing them on his thighs. “Pinch here if it’s too much. If any of it’s too much.”

You raise your eyebrows at him but nod again, more confident this time, licking your lips eagerly.

The bastard laughs. You’re a little sheepish at the way the sound makes you clench around nothing.

“Should’ve known you’d be desperate for a cock in your throat.”

You try not to shift too obviously at his words, unable to stay still as you ignore your own need.

He pulls himself out and your eyes widen at the sight. Your first thought is how sore your jaw is going to be tomorrow.

Your second is that you do not care one bit as long as you get your mouth on him immediately.

Unmoved by the impatience playing itself out across your forehead, Bradley’s other hand goes back to your chin, thumb roughly pushing in to pry your lips apart. You hollow your cheeks around his finger, fluttering your lashes and making a show of it, pride swelling in your chest when he groans.

Your mind has all but turned off as his thumb retreats so he can replace it with his cock, and your tongue darts out to lick his slit, following down to drag across the vein on the underside.

The hitch in his breath almost makes you regret your hands frozen in place on his muscular thighs, lamenting letting him take the lead completely, fire burning deep within you to take him apart with your mouth.

There’s always next time.

Next time, you think wildly, hoping to whatever higher power there’s an unlimited number of next times that’ll make permanently altering your friendship worth it.

Meeting his eyes, they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them, and you can’t help the muffled whimper that leaves you as you feel him sliding deeper, relaxing your jaw as best as you can as he builds a steady rhythm.

It’s probably better like this anyways; lips stretched around his thick length, spit pooling messily at the corners of your mouth, tears forming as he presses himself in, in, in, choking you.

It’s got to be better like this; on your knees, Bradley’s fingers tangled in your hair, your panties ruined where slick pools between your thighs, each thrust driving every remaining thought from your head.

It’s definitely better like this; Bradley fucking your mouth with abandon and making you take it, watching the sinful curl of his lips through blurry, glassy eyes, the struggle to breathe settling something that’s been aching in the back of your brain for months now.

“Not gonna last very long,” he warns, hand drifting down to the front of your neck, hips stuttering ever so slightly when he feels the bulge of his cock there.

That’s hot as fuck, you think hazily amidst the fuzz inside your head. Whether it’s the fact that he can see himself in your throat, the lack of oxygen going to your head, or him being on the edge so quickly - you don’t know.

You don’t care. Nothing exists beyond the weight of his cock on your tongue, his rough thrusts in and out making your clit beg for attention.

“The way you look right now—fuck, you were made to be on your knees with my cock in that pretty mouth, weren’t you, baby?”

It should be demeaning, but all it does is make you press your thighs together to quell the heat lighting itself through you, searching for some sort of relief.

Bradley shifts back until the tip is left in, only the distressed whine you let out keeping him from pulling out completely. You push back down, as much as you can with him still holding on tight.

His jaw slackens in surprise, a groan rumbling from his chest. “Greedy little slut, aren’t you? Gonna take all of me, want my cum down your throat?”

All you can manage is a pathetic mewl in response, eyes desperate and pleading.

Rhythm faltering, he pumps into your mouth just a few more times before cumming with a shudder. Your hands flex against the green material beneath them as you swallow around him, salt on your tongue.

“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, a fucking wet dream,” Bradley pants after he’s ridden out his high, pulling you up from the floor and against his chest.

In a show of brute strength, he hooks his arms under your legs and carries you swiftly across the short distance to your room, laying you down on your soft baby blue comforter. You’re so taken aback that you don’t even think to complain about him wearing his gross flight suit in your bed.

His chest is still rising and falling rapidly as he arranges you next to him and frustratingly does not touch anywhere that Jesus wouldn’t approve of, instead massaging your sore knees with affectionate, gentle sweeps of his fingers.

You’re trying not to rub your thighs together too obviously, trying to give him time to recover without letting the need thrumming through you take over.

Bradley drops a kiss on your forehead and rolls over to the other side of the bed. “Alright, baby, goodnight.”

Your jaw, even sore as it is already, drops in surprise, outrage plain as day on your face as you grab his shoulder in protest. When you roll him back over to you, he’s shaking with silent laughter, eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Bradley coos, condescension filling the air between you as he presses you back onto the pillows, thumbs moving to smooth out the angry lines on your face. “Hope you slept in this morning, it’s gonna be a long night.”

#i don't even eat cereal but i felt very strongly about the shredded wheat thing #rooster seems like he eats boring breakfasts idk why i dont make the rules #I’m not trashing austin butler I just wanted to say this man looks like him idk #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster smut #rooster x you #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster imagine #500 followers celly

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sugatrapp · 6 months

Text

「 W a f f l e s 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You wanted to take a picture with Carmy, but he didn’t take it seriously. You threatened to post the failed pictures on Instagram, but then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual Themes ~ Spanking ~ Food Play ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader ~ just an overall playful and goofy mood with a little spice

A/N: It’s my birthday today, but I figured why should I be the only one to enjoy today? Well, you’ll probably enjoy it more than me since I have classes 🙃 but still hope you like the story!

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Being around Carmen felt as natural as breathing. From the moment you met, you knew right away there was no one else you’d rather give your heart to. He made you laugh even when he wasn’t trying, he remembered the most minuscule details about you and what you liked, and he was always there when you needed him. You could never bother me. ‘M only a call or text away, he’d remind you for the fortieth time after you admitted to not wanting to add to his stress from work. No one could ever dream of asking for a better boyfriend.

Except whenever you tried to take pictures with him.

It had been ten minutes since you asked him to take a picture with you for your socials. Saving memories was your second favorite part of making them, so it was inevitable that you’d ask him. But he was in an especially playful mood that day. The smile he flashed at the camera was overly wide and a bit creepy if you looked long enough. With a pout, you shoved him away while he laughed.

“You’re such a jag off.”

He held a hand over his mouth to calm himself down to no avail. “Hey, I smiled didn’t I?”

“Like a serial killer.”

He shrugged and kissed your forehead as an apology. As you scrolled through the handful of failed images, a lightbulb flicked on over your head.

“I don’t even care, I’m still gonna post them.”

“No you’re not.”

When he saw the blank expression on your face, he reached for the phone only for you to hold it out of his grasp. You both made eye contact. A glint he knew all too well flashed behind your eyes. A glint that meant you were going to be a bratty pain in the ass. He reacted a second too slow as your form dodged his arms and took off running up the stairs. He rushed after you, but you had already shut and locked yourself in the bedroom. He banged on the door.

“Babe open the door! You better not post those.”

“Or what Carmen?” You asked, putting emphasis on his name.

“I’ll sue.”

You chuckled. “Guess I’ll be seeing you in court then.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his curls while pacing. What to do, what to do? After a moment, an idea popped into his mind and he smirked. He made sure to get nice and close to the area of the door where he knew you were standing.

“I’ll spank you.”

There was dead silence for a while before you spoke in a breathless whisper.

“Promise?”

He hummed in agreement. “Just give me your phone and you can have what’s behind door number one.”

“What’s the catch?”

You knew him too well.

“You take however many I feel you deserve—“ you made a sound of protest, “but I’ll sweeten the deal with some waffles.”

You thought over his proposal, but the throbbing between your legs had already decided. The lock clicked and the door swung open. You huffed as you handed over your phone. He deleted all but one of the photos, using it to set your wallpaper to his creepy smile before pocketing the phone. You’d see his surprise later.

You were bouncing your leg the entire time he was preparing the waffles. Carmy was awfully heavy handed when it came to punishments. Just a few weeks ago when he caught your hand between your legs without permission, you thought he was in a good mood helping you find your release. But then he kept going and going until you were too sore and sensitive to handle him even breathing on your skin.

A shiver ran up your spine as the steaming stack of waffles was placed on the island in front of you. While you were zoned out, he had dressed them up with whipped cream and berries, topping it off with buttermilk syrup. You were definitely not going to be able to sit down properly for a while.

“You wanna eat ‘em now or take ‘em with you?”

“With me,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t go easy on you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You frowned as he chuckled, giving you one last nicety of a kiss at your temple before he got down to business.

“Bedroom in three. Don’t be late.”

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

He was sitting at the edge of the bed when you entered. Beside him was a can of whipped cream. He patted his leg with a smirk on his face.

You took a deep breath before walking over, carefully lying across his lap with your waffles. You had sliced them into smaller pieces downstairs to make it easier. He wasted no time, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them off. You flinched as he gave you a light playful swat, laughing.

“I haven’t done anything yet, baby, relax.”

Easy for him to say. You knew he was lulling you into a false sense of security as he caressed your bare bottom, but you couldn’t help but melt, taking a bite of the waffles. It was heavenly, all fluffy and sweet, bright flavors exploding in your—

Smack!

You yelped as his hand came down hard on your right cheek.

“Count,” he demanded.

“O-One chef.”

“Good.”

Another on the right. Two chef. Three chef. Four. It wasn’t until eight when he switched to the left. It was because the right cheek was slightly smaller than the other. You were insecure about it at first, but he made sure to give it equal attention in any other case. But in this case, it didn’t help.

Tears streamed down your face at eleven, shoving more waffle in your mouth to mask your noises. His hand left your hot skin for a moment and you braced for another hit only to be met with a cold spray of whipped cream. He smeared the cream over your sore bottom, bending over to lick it off.

You mewled, forcing yourself to remain still as he tongued you down, open mouth kisses getting awful close to your desperate core. Of course he pretended not to notice, avoiding it like the plague yet gripping your inner thigh mere inches away.

“Carmy,” you moaned.

His hum vibrated over your skin.

“Please…”

Smack! You had fallen for it again.

“Was trying t’ give you a break but if you insist.”

You gritted your teeth, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. Another five hits later and the whipped cream was back. You sighed and pushed back into his roaming hand.

“Taste so good baby,” he moaned.

You stabbed another piece of waffle with your fork, twisting a bit to offer it to him. He closed his mouth around it, expression blissful as he took in the flavors. He plucked a strawberry from the plate, dipping it into the whipped cream still on your ass. You squirmed in place, beyond turned on and uncomfortable at being in the same position for so long.

Smack!

“You gonna be good or am I gonna have to add another one?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be good for you.” Then you sweetened the deal with wide, albeit watery, puppy eyes.

He took another fruit from the plate and popped it in his mouth. “Still got two more.”

You whined, on the verge of kicking your legs in protest until another smack halted you in your tracks.

“Three more.”

You bit your tongue and nodded. Eventually twenty-two rolled around and you sighed in relief. Your waffles were all gone, a few pieces of fruit left behind. You hissed as he ran his hands over your sore cheeks, no doubt bruised.

“Did so well for me baby. I think you deserve a little treat.”

Your eyes lit up. “You mean the waffles weren’t it?”

“I mean, if you don’t want it—“

“No!” You sat up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking the side of his face. “I want it.”

He stood up, hands falling to the button of his jeans. You watched with hungry eyes as his pants and boxers fell to his ankles, revealing his engorged cock. The tip was an angry red, a bead of precum just begging to be licked off. As if it wasn’t enough, he sprayed a strip of whipped cream down the length.

“Think you can handle it?” He teased, slowly stroking himself and smearing the cream.

“Oh I know I can Berzatto.”

“Then c’mere and show me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

#sugatrapp #gender not specified #reader insert #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear #kinktober #n s f w 🤫#the bear fx #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #birthday

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zepskies · 2 months

Text

Writer Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @venus-haze! As always, your responses on this were really interesting and got me thinking about my answers. (Here's the original post.)

So these first questions are geared toward Ao3 stories.

How many works do you have on AO3? 48 and counting.

What's your total AO3 word count? Aw geez. According to the statistics page, 1,022,400.

(But I have more fics listed in Tumblr thanks to headcanons and things not yet posted in Ao3.)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Every Loyalty - (Jon Snow x OC)

And So It Goes - (Butcher x OC)

Never Say Goodbye - (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Break Me Down - (OC Version | Soldier Boy x OC)

Checkerboard - (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! Always. I love getting feedback and engaging with the people who take the time to read my work. 💜

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Ooh, it's gotta be this imagine in SPN fandom: "Sam crosses the line." In which he's in love with Dean's girlfriend.

(Sequel to "You are Dean's one exception.")

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Well, most of my stories have happy endings. But probably Never Say Goodbye (Dean W. x Reader). It's a soulmate AU, so very rom-com and fluffy, despite all the drama they went through.

Though I could also say the same of the last story in the Midnight Espresso-verse: In Bad Weather.

Do you write crossovers? No, I don't. I've enjoyed reading a few though.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, unfortunately lol. It's inevitable for as long as I've been writing though.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh yes lol. I'm a romantic though, so it's often a mix of fluff, straight up romance, occasionally dashed with angst and/or hurt/comfort.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge. (I hope not!)

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, but I've received solicitations lol.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yeah, when I was a teenager just starting out writing, I used to write with one of my best friends growing up. (We're still good friends to this day.)

What's your all-time favorite ship? That's pretty much impossible. 🤣 It depends on the fandom! Nowadays I tend to write for OCs or reader inserts though.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Ooof, nothing recent. But I finally finished And So It Goes, which took me 3 years for some reason. 🙃

Though I do have both a Jason Teague x OC series and a Smallville Clark Kent x OC series outlined that realistically, I probably won't get to. 💔

What are your writing strengths? I've been told I'm good at dialogue and keeping canon characters in character, which is always amazing to hear! I try my best.

What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes and smut scenes are my biggest writing challenges, though I've been told I do a decent job at them. I know I tend to use adverbs a lot lol (I'm trying to curb that).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? So I try to minimize use of this, but, I've gotten critiqued (putting it mildly) on this before for two reasons. Admittedly, I've had to revise myself in certain use cases, but also, there are slang words and phrases in certain Spanish cultures that wouldn't make sense to another Hispanic/Latino culture that doesn't use the word/phrase. So sometimes, it's not that it's wrong grammatically, but that it's slang.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Oh jeezus, probably Chronicles of Narnia fandom when I was like, 10 and brand new to writing. 😂

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? Ooh a tough one. I feel like there are so many! I do have a story I had outline years ago now for Steve Rogers/Captain America back in the MCU fandom (which I've written in before). But that fandom is a bit intimidating. 😂

What's your favorite fic you've written? Also really tough for me. I think it's a tie between two series:

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Midnight Espresso (Dean W. x Plus-Sized Latina!Reader)

One totally took me by surprise by how much I enjoyed writing the series and the characters (and figuring out how to write Soldier Boy/Ben 😂).

While the other allowed me to be a little more indulgent with myself, writing from my personal experience and my culture.

The responses on both stories have been amazing and incredibly heartwarming. 💗

No pressure tags:

@thatonewriter15 @waywardxwords @impala-dreamer @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @deanwritings @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @kaleldobrev -- and whoever else wants to join! 💜

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flowercrowngods · 9 months

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hi dio i have a clarkson first sentence for you because ofc i gotta make you write about the old men again 🙃

It was around 2am when Wayne found himself smiling like a lovesick teenager at the contents of his lunchbox: hidden among a whole array of delicious, freshly prepared sandwiches was a note that read "I hope you'll like my hummus-cucumber sandwiches as much as I like you."

anna!!! clarkson!!! how wonderful to see you both 🥰🤍 thank you for this, i hope this is a vibe, my friend 🤍🌷

He couldn’t help the smile that immediately came over him — a smile that turned into a happy little hum the longer he looked at the words written in Scott’s neat handwriting —, and he reached for the pen in his breast pocket like he always did, writing his own little note in much more scrawny letters: Still like you more :-)

The smiley face felt a little much, but so did the smile on his face and the way his heart fluttered in his chest — it’s all a little much, and still not enough, and just perfect. Eddie always said it had to be a little ridiculous to be worthwhile; and worthwhile it was.

He dove in, humming at the deliciousness of Scott’s hummus-cucumber sandwiches, already looking forward to the end of his shift in a few hours, when he could drive home and have breakfast with his favourite men before driving Scott to school, basking in the way he would talk about the sunrise in wonderment — he always did, and Wayne couldn’t even imagine ever getting tired of it.

As he enjoyed his late-night lunch, thinking about his sweetheart rambling on and on about sunsets and morning dew and his favourite students and his least favourite parents and the way they’re inevitably linked most of the time, Wayne could feel his thoughts drifting off to the ring in a little blue box sitting at the bottom of his sock drawer, and the smile stayed on his lips until the end of his shift and beyond.

send me an ask with the first sentence of a fic and i’ll write the next five 🌷 continuation welcome

#clarkson #wayne munson #scott clarke #wayne munson/scott clarke #wayne munson x scott clarke #listen i’m sorry but i can’t write these man as anything but happy and sappy and besotted because honestly it’s what they deserve #god it’s been a while since i’ve written anything in past tense hdhd sorry if it’s clunky

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effervescentdragon · 11 months

Note

A/b/o Charlos 👀

parts 1 2 3 4 🙃

Carlos spends his rut alone.

It's one of the worst ones in his life. He feels completely and utterly wretched, and the whole week passes in a daze of anger, arousal, and sorrow. The first two emotions, he'd expected. They've been more or less the same ever since he presented, ever-present and common. He knows how to deal with both his anger and agression and with his unnaturally heightened state of arousal, despite all of them being more intense than ever. It makes sense, since this is the first rut he spends without someone to f- for company.

Caco and his father both called him a fool.

"You have willing omegas and betas, and even alphas at your disposal, just waiting for us to call!" his father had hissed. "And you decide to suffer this alone, Junior, like a complete fool! I thought you were smarter."

"What the fuck are you playing at, Carletes?" Caco had asked. "I don't know why you're acting like a fool, but this is just plain fucking stupid!"

Carlos hadn't budged, no matter how much they insisted. His ruts, just like those of all the alphas on the grid, were timed to happen during the summer break. The moment final race had ended, Carlos had run back to his home in Spain, because he could feel his rut incoming much faster than usual. He'd closed himself off for the week, adamant to go through it alone this time. If his father or Caco had a suspicion as to reason for it, they hadn't mentioned it to Carlos. It was the thing he was most grateful for, because how was he supoosed to explain that the thought of touching anyone who wasn't Charles made him want to scream? How was he supposed to say it out loud when he could barely admit it in the confines of his own mind?

He kept pretending Charles had nothing to do with it until the moment when everything hurt so much and he couldn't bear it and so finally he took himself in hand and whimpered Charles' name as he came all over himself. From then on, it was an inevitable soundtrack to the week from hell, a litany of Charles' name that echoed through his empty apartment multiple times a day and night both as his biology wreaked havoc on his senses. When the red haze of anger took him, because he was alone when he wasn't supposed to be alone, he wished he could break the world so that he wouldn't have to think about how his insides felt like they were breaking irreparably. And then his dick reminded him that it wasn't over yet and he was at the mercy of his hormones, and he went on like that until he couldn't tell arousal and anger apart anymore.

But all of that, he could handle. It wasn't a problem. Isn't a problem, because Carlos refuses to make it into one.

It's the sorrow that throws him off completely.

It comes in waves that leave him breathless, panting and shaking and crying. It comes in the middle of his orgasms and punches the breath out of his lungs and diminishes any respite he may have gotten from coming. It makes him wake up from nightmares of always chasing someone whose face he can't see, hearing their familiar laugh, almost touching them before they slip through his fingers and he wakes up weeping. It breaks through the haze of his agression until he finds himself grasping for the edge of the cold pool where he was trying to swim his agression out so hard, the tiles feel like they will break under his grasp any second.

It exhausts both his body and soul until he is so miserable, he can't even take himself in hand to give himself some much needed relief.

It was a good thing he was doing this alone. He wouldn't have been able to hide this from anyone who would've been here. He would have forgotten himself, and he didn't want to risk having to first-hand check how good their NDA's were.

Charles doesn't call him through the week.

It's not that he usually calls. They don't really talk that much, except some texts here and there, so it isn't anything unusual. It still makes Carlos want to scream, or cry, or break something.

He is alone in his apartment, sitting on the floor of his balcony and looking out at the coastline, when the message comes.

Carlos thinks to ignore it all, like he's been ignoring everything during this week. He sent off messages to Caco semi-regularly that he was alright, but everything else, he'd ignored.

The moment he sees Charles' name on the screen, his heart starts beating faster. His abused dick also decides it has more in itself, even after Carlos lazily jerked off in the summer breeze not half an hour ago.

Charles: look at this 😂 [link]

Carlos opens the video automatically, and Charles' voice fills his ears. Macarena starts playing but Carlos can't care about it, or about himself in the second part of the short video, because the footage of Charles makes him start jerking himself off immediately.

He messes something up in his haste and the video changes. This time, it's an edit of Charles, and it feels like it was custom made to drive Carlos crazy. He looks at his screen and remebers what it was like, to be inside Charles, to have him underneath Carlos, to hear him say So good, Carlos, so good -

Carlos comes. He slumps back down, exhausted. His dick feels chafed, and the salty summer air brings him little relief. He still burns, burns with desire, burns for Charles.

He looks down at his phone. The video of Charles on a loop is still playing on a loop. The ocean breeze cools down the sweat on his skin. He breathes heavily, his chest feeling like it's cleaving in two. None of the smells around him are right.

He sends the video to Charles. He doesn't pause as he types I like this one better, then closes his phone and eyes both and tries to let the sound of the ocean soothe him.

#i found this in my drafts and i have no memory of this place but oh well i guess yall get this #fb omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #charlos #ferrari boys <3 #f1 rpf #effervescentdragonwrites #my writing #this is extremely self indulgent

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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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ok just read the new chapter of the poly fic and IM SCREAMING. I feel like you’re in my brain atp cause the way I nearly collapsed reading Ghost’s and Soap’s little shower moment. Kinda makes me wonder if we’ll see some Gaz and Price moments👀. Also THANK YOU FOR REPLYING TO ME. It was honestly my first time giving anyone an ask and I thought it was gonna be a lost blurb. Also your writing is absolutely amazing but don’t forget to take breaks !!!!

Aah thank you so much!! 🫶💚💚 It can't all be about the reader lol 😉 gotta let the boys have some fun too!! I'm so happy you're enjoying it so far!!!

Aww you're so welcome!!! I try to respond to everyone, but inevitably tumblr will mess it up somehow at some point 😫 missing asks, no notifications. Gotta love the hellsite!!

I'm taking a bit of a longer break this time, don't worry!! Got some stuff to do irl today and tomorrow so no writing till the weekend 🙃

#gotta love adulthood #thank you so much for your kind words 💚💚#y'all are so sweet #answered

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yesloulou · 1 year

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hello, i am a big fan of your gifs & am teaching myself to make my own! just wondering - when you want to make a gif that is one column wide (540px for tumblr) how do you keep them looking so crisp? i find that im struggling with landscape videos because they are so wide, i'd like a more square shaped gif but it ends up as a rectangle. if i try to size it down to a square the quality is skewed 🙃 hopefully this makes sense! xx

anon im so honored here is a little Gif Sharpening Tutorial !!!

this is the first gif making question ive ever gotten so unfortunately this will also be the first time i try to verbalize these gif making stuff. if there are things i haven't explained clearly please do follow up (my dm is open too!!)

the thing with wide (3:2, 16:9) gifs is that you normally obtain this kind of ratio by shrinking the clip (1920px width and up) down to 540px without any cutting, which is about 1/4 of it's original width that you'd end up with, which means you're losing 3/4 of the pixels in it's width, which is a LOT of details lost in the process, which is why we can't sharpen wide gifs the same way we sharpen square/squarer gifs, and i feel like we should talk about these two scenarios separately. (with square gifs, assuming we're working with 1080p, we'll cut it from 1920x1080 to 1080x1080 or less, and then shrink it down to 540px. this way we'd only lose less than half of the pixels. it's a lot less details we're losing here. as a result it's more tolerating towards sharpening techniques)

ok this is where i take a pause and ask myself when tf did i get so technical about moving picture making on tumblr dot com... ok let's keep going...

Basic Sharpening

soo how i normally sharpen my gifs (which are more often on the squarer side) is based on this awesome gif tutorial, the idea here is that we smart sharpen our gifs first, which will inevitably result in pixelation (over sharpening) to some extent, so then we use a semi transparent gaussian blurred layer to repair these pixelation and hopefully make it smooth and sharp. in addition to following this tutorial you'll also want to play around w the parameters (radius, transparency, sharpening amount, etc) as there is no one size fits all.

after following these steps, if i want to smooth things out even more, i'll use a layer of denoise (see below for setting i normally go with). if i want things even sharper, I will add another small amount of sharpening (again, see below). these two methods can be used together. imo they are what make a gif go from "omg it's crisp" to "i feel like im looking at daniel ricciardo in person what the fuck". the two gifs i attached at the beginning can hopefully showcase the difference <3

2. Sharpening Wide/Landscape Gifs

ok, at this point you've imported a 1920x1080px footage into ps and made it into a timeline, you've resized it to 540p and if you're using the gif tutorial above, you'll start off your sharpening process by doing a 500% 0.4px smart sharpen. after the basic gif making steps, this is gonna be the result:

it's pretty sharp, but it doesn't look as good as the ones at the beginning of this post. in this part we'll attempt to minimize this difference as much as possible.

first we take a closer look at how 'radius' in photoshop's smart sharpen works. to my understanding, radius is the width at which photoshop recognize an edge as "an edge that needs sharpened". in this example, you'll see that at 0.4px, the edges stand out the most, but the gif is not as crisp/fine as that of 0.3px (since a 0.4px edge is thicker than a 0.3 px edge). a 0.4px radius for this gif is what i'd say is over sharpened. on the other hand, if we go further down to 0.2px, the image is basically left unsharpened bc photoshop failed to recognize most of the edges this image contains (as they're mostly 0.3px and up)

so in the next step, we set the initial smart sharpen radius to 0.3px instead of 0.4px:

which is much better. but still doesn't solve the loss of detail problem as it's still pretty far away from top left. so then what i would do is that, when shrinking the image down from 1920px, i don't go to 540px directly. i will instead go to 1080px or 720px first, sharpen as i normally do to preserve as much detail as possible, then further downsize to 540px, and then add a small amount of sharpening to finish off. it'll look something like this:

720px w/ regular sharpening ⬇️

resize to 540px ⬇️

smart sharpen, amount: 90%, radius: 0.9px ⬇️

which will be the end result!!

this gives us way finer edges than what we started with (500% 0.4px) let me actually insert that one again ⬇️

however... (this is gonna be the last part i swear). even tho this is how i would do a 540px wide landscape gif, i feel like with 16:9 or similar ratio gifs, tumblr gif size limit is rarely a concern so why not leave the gifs at 720p so there isn't even additional detail loss to begin with. ik every gif tutorial is likely telling you to resize to 540p but, in a lot of the cases the less extremely you shrink down an image, the less detail you lose, the better it's gonna look on the screen. here is a comparison between the 720px gif (top) and the 540px gif (bottom) we ended up with where the 720px one looks a lot nicer (esp around the curls)

to sum up! with larger ratio/wide gifs, if the original video is of nice quality, i would stick to large sizes (720px and up) as much as i can. if that's not doable, i will sharpen the gifs at a larger size before shrinking it down to 540px so the details are better preserved.

---

Hope this is helpful! again ty for this ask and my ask box and dm are always open <3

#gif tutorial #gif making tutorial #f1edit #f1 #asks #*#gif tutorials #my gif tutorials

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