#AND I’m assuming it’ll still be going on when

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

shen yuan, dragon god of cang qiong mountain sect, has a new mission.

[Mission {Master of Masters} at 2% progress. Subquest {Master of One} begins now! USER_002 must obtain protagonist [Luo Binghe] as a personal disciple! Continue to work hard!]

there are steps between, of course. shen yuan comes back down the mountain once he’s calmed down—just to check on binghe, not to make a scene! but yue qingyuan was alerted that their sect’s god had descended his peak, and a meeting of all cang qiong’s lords was called. every peak lord is called back to cang qiong. it’ll take a week for everyone to arrive—liu qingge is off on a night hunt, and shang qinghua is accompanying his head disciple to negotiate contracts for fabrics and dyes (and, shen yuan thinks resentfully, probably off doing traitor-to-the-sect business. fuck that guy).

while they’re waiting, shen yuan is invited to stay on qiong ding—as if he doesn’t have a perfectly good mountain he can ascend again until the peak assembles. but yue qingyuan seems anxious to have him, and shen yuan is kind of internally geeking out over getting to properly meet this sect leader. so he agrees, and he’s arranged in a manor fit for a visiting sect leader, which is kind of insane. rich, dark woods; silks in qiong ding’s deep blues and grays; night pearls illuminating every room. is this how people live in this world???

yue qingyuan…hovers a fair bit. surely he should be busy with sect-leader-y things, but apparently having shen yuan come down is a huge deal that requires yue qingyuan’s constant attention. bringing tea and snacks, accompanying him to meals on each peak with all the lords in residence (except shen qingqiu), escorting him to and from qing jing every day when he goes to check on binghe.

that always seems a little uncomfortable for yue qingyuan. shen yuan is still rightfully pissed about binghe’s treatment, but he hasn’t gotten that horrible feeling that his territory is under threat again, so he assumes binghe is alright. the first time he tells yue qingyuan that he’s going to qing jing to check on ‘that young disciple your shidi thought it right to whip,’ yqy gets this constipated look on his face before—before fucking defending sqq.

saying sqq isn’t a cruel man, really—or, he is, but not without reason. all of cang qiong’s disciples are disciplined when it’s appropriate, he says. shen shidi has had problems with that disciple before, and lord canglong shouldn’t judge him too harshly before he hears the full story.

the furious energy crackling around shen yuan is enough to cut yue qingyuan’s entreaty for leniency off. yue qingyuan always seemed like the kindly big-brother type in the novel, if a bit too indulgent of sqq. and shen yuan always wondered why he would turn a blind eye to sqq’s abuse of lbh when he knew it was going on. now he’s seen it with his own eyes, and yue qingyuan still has the audacity to try to cover for sqq, and it kind of makes shen yuan sick.

he’s been doing his best to play the part of the great immortal now that the upset of his initial descent from the mountain has passed. but when yqy defends sqq like this, shen yuan can’t help but drop all pretense of formality and glare, eyes blazing, at this sect leader. ‘do you think i’m fucking stupid?’ he spits. and yqy pales, horror in his eyes, trembling more as shen yuan lays into him.

to discipline a child is to teach them the way they should go. what does whipping a thirteen-year-old boy teach him? shen yuan knows what luo binghe has learned from his shizun’s instruction. that he is stupid, incapable, unworthy of his martial family’s care. that the sect who took him in—the sect shen yuan himself established centuries ago—only took him so it would have something to beat.

shen yuan is pissed. he doesn’t wait for yqy’s escort to qing jing; he takes his sword there himself, finds luo binghe, and brings him back to the guest manor yqy set him up in. binghe is confused, of course, to be faced with his savior’s fury, but when lord canglong makes a request of him, he’s all to happy to comply. and if he buries his face against lord canglong’s robes as they fly back to qiong ding, it’s only to protect his face from the wind.

there’s warmth in his chest whenever he walks near lord canglong, and as he’s led by a hand on his shoulder into lord canglong’s guest quarters, binghe feels like he might combust (in one part, from the overwhelming, humbling joy he feels at being the subject of his sect’s god’s attention; in the other part, because lord canglong’s grip is imbued with so much spiritual power it makes binghe’s skin tingle all the way down to his toes).

binghe follows lord canglong into the main room and, when it’s clear they’re done walking, he sinks to his knees in gratitude.

‘enough of that, luo binghe,’ shen yuan splutters, reaching to pull binghe up from his kowtow. honestly, he’s going to be the emperor! none of this prostration; it’ll only be a debt on his head later on! ‘get up. i won’t see you humble yourself to this—uh’ shit! System, help! What do gods like this call themselves?!!

[Answering USER_002, his title is {Lord Canglong, Shen Yuan, Grand Master of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.} ‘This Grandmaster’ would be expected and appropriate.]

god, that feels so pretentious. shen yuan swallows his millennial sensibilities and does his best to thicken his face a little. ‘—to this grandmaster whose sect has treated him so poorly.’

binghe looks up with stars in his night-dark eyes, and it takes every shred of shen yuan’s self control not to soften at the awe in this child’s face. how come no one told him little lord luo would be so cute?! of course he’s adorable; he’s the protagonist.

‘this—this lowly disciple wouldn’t dare—that is, he wouldn’t presume to, um—lord canglong is—”

poor thing! too cute, too cute!

‘luo binghe is not lowly,’ shen yuan says first, because that feels like the most important part to address. no humbling yourself in front of this old dragon, ah! no debts to this sect! ‘didn’t this grandmaster say in front of everyone that luo binghe is uniquely gifted?’

‘this disciple thought…’ luo binghe’s eyes are already trained on the ground, but he shrinks into himself at this. in this grand room, luo binghe looks so small, so unlike the menacing demon lord shen yuan knows he’ll become. ‘this disciple thought that perhaps, in his anger, lord canglong…exaggerated… to make a point to shizun.’

‘if i have anything to say about it,’ shen yuan mutters, ‘he won’t be your shizun much longer.’

at that, luo binghe’s gaze snaps up, his shoulders tight. ‘this stupid disciple doesn’t understand.’

‘not stupid,’ shen yuan says immediately. ‘what this grandmaster means to say is just that. luo binghe will not be a qing jing peak disciple for much longer. this grandmaster does not trust qing jing peak’s lord to raise luo binghe well, so he will do it himself.’

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You (too)" - EREN/READER - REINCARNATION AU (chapter 6)

eren/reader

Rating: M

2020s reincarnation of marleyan nurse reader & undercover eren

4k words

also on Ao3

<- chapter 5

*A Warm Living Room*

Jean resented the word “babysitting”.

Connie said: “I mean that’s basically what it is though, right?”

And Sasha- well… actually Sasha didn’t really say much of anything. Her face was too full of french fries when Eren asked them to do it.

Regardless of their feelings on the matter, after Eren called them to cash in a favor they all end up there:

Alone. In your apartment. With only you because Eren was running out of excuses to give his boss and he was going to get his ass fired if he called in sick one more time.

“Don’t stress too much about it,” Armin had told him on the phone the night before. “If anything, getting back into your old routine might help her remember things.”

“Yeah but… I still feel weird leaving her alone. What if something happens?”

There was a muffled sound from the other side of the phone before Armin was back: “Jean said he could come over and keep an eye on her.”

Eren could barely make out Jean’s defiant: “I DID NOT!” from the other end of the phone.

“Oh, and he just told me Connie and Sasha could help too!” Armin added.

Jean awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “I feel like a phone call would have worked fine…” he mumbled. Jean knew you were his friend, a version of you anyway, but that version was tucked away in your subconscious with the current version leaving a lot to be desired.

Especially with how you were staring at him.

“What?” Jean’s glare caused you to jump before looking back to your lap.

‘Good riddance,’ he thought as a proud smirk spread across his face.

“Play nice,” Sasha ordered, slapping him on the back of the head as she crawled over the back of the couch to join the two of you in the living room. “Soooooo…” she started.“What do you like to do for fun?”

“I like to read,” you answered.

Connie snorted. “Fuckin’ nerd,” he mumbled.

Your head tilted curiously to the side as you looked at him. Obvious confusion was plastered across your face.

Connie was only half paying attention to what was going on, slumped in the loveseat and more absorbed in his phone game than anything. At least, until he realized what he had said and his eyebrows rose. He immediately sat up straight, his phone falling to his lap. “Sorry! Normally you’d- uh call me a dumbass back or- um-...”

Your eyebrows tightened together. “Mr. Kruger said we were friends.”

“We are friends.”

“But… I’m mean to you?”

“That’s-... oh boy…” Connie sighed. “You really are different.”

You scowled into your lap. “...everyone keeps saying that…” 

“ ‘s not a bad thing that you’re normally different,” Jean mumbled. “The old you seems kinda...” he vaguely waved his hand as if you were supposed to know what he was saying.

And you supposed you did: “Marleyan?” you finished for him.

“Woah there!” Sasha quickly jumped in. “You being Marleyan doesn’t have anything to do with it! My fiancé is Marleyan and I’m Eldian or at least- we used to be. Technically Marley and Eldia don’t really exist here but-”

“You’re engaged to a Marleyan!?” you exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise.

“Uh-... yeah,” Sasha answered, “have been for a while. We’re doing that whole ‘long-term engagement’ thing.”

“And you tell people that?”

“I mean I do,” Sasha said. “Nico’s kinda embarrassed about the fact that the economy is in shambles and it’ll be a while before we can afford a wed-”

“No not about that!” you interrupted, “about… about you being in love!”

“Huh?” Sasha seemed confused. “Oh- yeah! Yeah, we tell everyone.”

“It’s kinda gross, actually,” Connie said.

“You’re just jealous,” Sasha stuck out her tongue.

“Ew gross! If anything I feel sorry for Niccolo having to kiss your burger breath all the time.”

“Hmm… bold of you to assume he doesn’t have a food kink.”

Connie threw his head back with a loud laugh. “Oh my god he totally has a food kink!” he clutched his stomach through his laughter, almost falling out of his chair as he did so. “Sash, you're nasty! Is he into that feeder thing too!?”

“Even if he was I-”

“Guys please shut up,” Jean cut them off. “You’re traumatizing her.”

Connie and Sasha looked over at you. You’d gotten quiet (which would have been weird under normal circumstances, but they were starting to realize that silence was pretty typical for your old self). 

“No I-” you stuttered, “sorry. I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Sasha asked. 

“I-” your cheeks flushed pink. “Wh- Where I’m from an Eldian and Marlyan can’t-... a-and even if they did they would… well…”

“We know,” Jean told you. For the first time, there was an undertone of concern in his voice. Like a part of him cared about you. Or at least some version of you. 

Of course, that concern was quickly washed away as your eyes met his and he went back to scowling.

You looked back at Sasha and Connie (they were a lot nicer). “Well if you know that then maybe you also know that I-... I um…” Your cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. “I’ve never said it out loud before but-...”

You squirmed against your seat, suddenly unsure if you should keep your hands in your lap. No, the armrests! No wait next to you! No, that looked awkward!! 

“I think she’s gonna hurt herself,” Connie whispered to Sasha.

“Yeah, she looks like she’s about to have an aneurism,” Sasha mumbled back just in time for you to blurt it out:

“I-I’m in love with Mr. Kruger!!”

Your cheeks burned deep crimson as you clenched your hands in your lap, tightly gripping your skirt while your shoulders trembled. 

You couldn’t believe you had just admitted it! You’d said it, out loud, to someone that wasn’t him!! This place was so amazing, if you were allowed to admit that then you really, truly never wanted to leave!

Jean sighed. “Yeah everyone fucking knows that.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. “E-Even Mr. Kruger!?”

“Oh my god...” Jean rubbed his hands over his face with a loud groan. “Yes. Mr. Kruger,” he said in a mocking tone, “is very very aware that you’re hot for him.”

“A-And… how does he um-... how does he feel about… me?”

Jean groaned again as he leaned back in his chair.

You turned your attention to Sasha and Connie instead, eyes begging them for reassurance. 

Instead of offering you any, they both held back their laughter:

“...this is so fucking priceless...” Connie snickered.

“...wish I had this on camera…” Sasha agreed.

You scowled as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I don’t get what’s so funny about someone having feelings for another person! No one was laughing at you when you were talking about your- your- your feeder kink fiancé!!!”

Whatever that meant (and honestly you had no idea) it must have been pretty funny because Connie started laughing so hard that he fell out of his chair. Sasha clutched her stomach yelling “My abs! My abs stop! They hurt!!” Even Jean, who seemed to hate your guts, let out a loud bark of a laugh. 

You still weren’t sure what you said, but you knew their reactions.

Part of you did, anyway.

And that same part encouraged you to join in on their, strangely familiar, laughter.

So you did.

You laughed with them. You laughed with your friends over a joke you didn’t really understand.

You’d never laughed like that before.

*An Office Downtown*

Eren was pulled from his computer screen daze as Armin placed a coffee on his desk.

“You’ve been glaring at your computer all day,” his best friend pointed out.

“Sorry,” Eren sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Just catching up on emails. Buncha bullshit piled up.”

“Then how about you actually take your lunch today and give yourself a break?” Armin asked. Eren was notorious for getting sucked into something and forgetting to eat, which is why he’d spent the entire morning in complete silence glued to his computer. Thankfully, working at the same company as his best friend meant that he normally had someone looking out for him.

Eren glanced back at his monitor and a half-written email stared back at him. Then he looked down at the coffee Armin had brought over.

He reached for it. “A break sounds good.”

They ended up circling the small park next to their office building, enjoying the sunshine while it lasted before sitting down by the fountain in the middle of the park where they usually ate lunch together (on the days Eren remembered to do so, of course). 

It didn’t take Armin long to get to the elephant in the room:

“Still no luck getting her to remember?” he asked.

Eren sighed, knowing that this question was coming. “Nothing,” he answered, immediately running his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a week and she hasn’t remembered a single thing. What if she never does? What do we do if she’s just stuck like this and-”

“Eren, don’t worry about it,” Armin cut him off, “sometimes it takes a little longer.”

“But a full week?”

“Yeah. That’s not unheard of,” Armin shrugged.

Eren let out a short sigh as he picked at the lid of his empty coffee cup. The past week had been… rough, to say the least.

He’d kept trying to maintain an air of normalcy, but that was growing increasingly more difficult every time you looked up at him in wide-eyed amazement over something in the modern world, or smiled at him like he’d hung the fucking moon, or every single time you called him Mr. Kruger.

It was never Eren.

Always Mr. Kruger.

And every time you said it, it felt like a punch in the gut.

“Eren?” Armin asked, sensing his best friend’s apprehension. 

“I just-” Eren dropped his hands with a sign. “I just miss her so fucking much,” he said, “she’s right next to me but it’s not her and I-...” he drifted off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“I know, Eren. We all get it. It’s hard waiting for things to go back to the way they were.”

Eren scoffed. “It’s not going to though.”

“Of course it will.”

Eren didn’t reply. Instead, he stared down at his coffee cup and ran his thumb against the light brown stain on the white lid.

“This is how it always happens,” Armin said. “Every time someone wakes up it’s hard for a few days, but once their minds catch up with them things have a way of working out.”

“‘Working out’ and going ‘back to the way it was’ are two different things,” Eren pointed out.

“I-- yeah,” Armin sighed, “you’re right, but sometimes ‘working out’ is better. Don’t you think?” 

Eren’s hold on his cup tightened, causing the thin paper to crinkle as the lid almost popped off.

Armin continued: “Remembering everything that happened back then made all of us cherish this life so much more. All the bad stuff from the past doesn’t-”

“Don’t you dare tell me it doesn’t matter, Armin!” Eren exclaimed as the lid to his coffee popped off and fell to the pavement below them.

Armin remained silent at his friend’s outburst.

“I’m sorry but it just-- it can’t not matter,” Eren said. “Just because we’ve been given a chance to try again doesn’t mean that what we did before doesn’t count for anything!”

A silence hung over them again.

Eren stared down at his empty cup. He noted how light it felt, the way it crinkled against his hold. The way it felt to dig his nails into the white paper.

A paper cup with coffee stains.

A paper cup with three pills.The green one discreetly slipped into a pocket before anyone could notice.

Armin captured Eren’s attention with the soft calling of his name:

“Eren?”

Eren was scared to look up, so he didn't.

“Who was she?” Armin asked.

It was the question Eren had been avoiding. The same question he couldn’t answer. Not to the rest of his friends. Not to Armin.

Not to you.

“Whatever happened to the two of you in your first lives,” Armin told him, “no matter how- no matter how terrible it was, this is our chance to try again. Everyone who’s woken up understands that.” Armin reached out to place his hand on Eren’s, giving it a soft squeeze. “...and she will too.”

Eren pulled away. He tossed the coffee cup into the trash can and shoved his hands into his pockets.

He didn't want Armin to feel the way they trembled.

The way they shook.

The way his fingers twitched with nervous hesitation as Armin’s words repeated in his head.

But more importantly, he didn't want to look at them for himself.

At his hands.

Eren wanted to cut them clean off, even now that he couldn’t regenerate. Especially now that he couldn’t regenerate.

He wanted to cut them off and make them pay for their crimes.

*A Warm Living Room*

Pandemonium had broken out in the time Eren had been gone, and that fact became immediately obvious as he stepped back into his apartment.

“Connie if you don't fucking back me up here I'm going to chop your balls off in your sleep!!!” 

“Fuck you, Jean! What do you want me to do!? It's completely chance!”

“It is not chance!! It depends on when you push the button!”

“NO IT DOES FUCKING NOT!!”

“Okay then push it now! Push it right fucking now I dare you! You won't do it because it's not completely cha-”

“Oh look I won!” The third voice wasn't Connie, Jean, or even Sasha.

The third voice was you.

Everyone burst out into excited screams:

“HOLY SHIT!!! HOW DID THAT JUST HAPPEN!!” Sasha exclaimed. 

“IT'S NOT CHANCE I TOLD YOU IT'S NOT FUCKING CHANCE!!!” Jean shouted, immediately followed by Connie’s loud:

“FUCK MY ASS OFF DUDE HOW ARE YOU STILL THE MARIO PARTY CHAMPION!?!?”

Eren tucked his shoes into the closet and Bitcoin stumbled out of the living room. He hobbled over to his dad and rubbed against Eren's leg before he began loudly meowing for his dinner. Eren leaned down to pick him up and walked into the living room, towards the commotion.

“Guys we have neighbours you know,” he sighed, “can you please keep it down?”

Everyone looked over at him as he entered the room. 

Jean and Sasha were on the couch as Connie took up the loveseat. Despite how there was more than enough room for you to sit on the couch too, you were in front of the coffee table, much too close to the TV for it to be doing anything good to your eyes.

You clutched your GameCube controller in one hand as you smiled at him. “Look Mr. Kruger, I won!” You told him, pointing at the TV where Princess Daisy stood in front of the flashing lights and banner that declared:

You are the DREAM STAR!!

Apparently god given Mario Party 5 skills trumped even reincarnation.

Who knew?

Eren chuckled with a smile. “Good job ba-” he stopped himself before the pet name came out. “Good uh-” he cleared his throat, “good job.”

You smiled.

His stomach flipped, just like it always did.

*A Cozy Bedroom*

“Connie and Sasha told me something,” you told Mr. Kruger that night as you crawled into bed.

Mr. Kruger always came to make sure you were all set before falling asleep. He’d turn the lights off for you, check that the cats were comfortable (although the old brown one was the only one that would actually stay in the bedroom overnight) and then he’d tell you goodnight before leaving.

It was the exact opposite of the real world, but given the way everything else in this somewhere nice was the opposite, you figured it made sense. 

“What did they tell you?” Mr. Kruger asked, placing a glass of water on your bedside table, just like he did every night.

“They said um-...” You looked down at your hands, curling the blanket in your lap against your fingers. “They said that Eldians and Marleyans didn’t really exist here.”

“They don’t,” Mr. Kruger confirmed as he sat down on the end of the bed.

“Sasha also told me that she has a fiancé who’s Marleyan.”

“She does.”

Eren watched you stare down at your lap as you avoided his eyes. He noticed your cheeks turn pink in a way he’d never seen on this version of you. 

The old you.

The old you had two modes, and he’d gotten familiar with them after the months he spent with you in Liberio. You were either spaced out, completely gone as your body moved in robot mode to complete whatever task needed to be done, or you were fake.

Smiling.

Cheery.

Putting up a performance that, in the past, made his blood boil to watch.

Right now though- with your slightly flushed cheeks, the subtle smile that slowly spread across your face, and the way you eventually looked up at him- right now you looked like the version he was used to.

The version he met here. The version he fell in love with without any memory of what had happened in the past.

Who he’d been in the past.

“Is that allowed here then?” you asked, making Eren’s heart feel like it might beat right out of his chest.

Eren cleared his throat. “I--Is what allowed here?”

Your reply came out after a moment of hesitation. Softly, as if you were nervous about how he would answer: “Are an Eldian and Marleyan allowed to be together…?”

Suddenly, the two of you were in dangerous territory.

Suddenly the same feeling of impending doom washed over Eren, just like it had when Armin asked: ‘who was she?’

It was all he could see. It was all he could feel-

The grinding of stone. Fire. Screaming. The roar of his titan. The zipping of lines. And a body lifeless against the battered streets.

At some point, he’d sat down on the bed.

At some point, you’d leaned closer.

At some point, you’d looked back down at your lap. Down at your hands before you took a short breath.

Before your hand slid across the covers and hesitated, just a fraction of a centimetre from his.

It was all so familiar but so different at the same time.

The way you paused. The way the bed dipped between the two of you. The way Eren could feel the warmth radiating from your fingers, even though they weren’t touching his.

But the sheets below you were dark green, not white, and the walls were covered in framed photos, not completely bare.

So it was different, and he tried so hard to focus on how it was different but---

But it all felt so familiar. 

So familiar that he got lost in it for a moment. So familiar that when your hand finally moved closer to his, brushing so gently against his pinky finger- Eren jumped.

“Is…” you whispered, “...is this allowed?”

Your finger brushed against his, just your finger, so hesitantly that you could easily have pretended it hadn't happened if you wanted to.

But Eren didn’t want to pretend it hadn’t happened. The moment you touched him finally actually touched him, lit a fire in the pit of his stomach as his heart pounded.

“It’s-- It’s allowed…” he slowly answered, so softly that if there had been any other noise in the room at all you might have missed it.

His finger hooked against yours, body moving completely on its own as if it was instinct.

And it was.

At this point, it was instinct.

Eren could hear his heart beating in his ears at the simple sensation of your finger pressed against his. He’d touched you so many times (you’d been dating for six years, so obviously he had) but it had never felt like this.

It had never felt so intense…

He didn't know at what point your fingers had curled together.

He had no idea how long it took until he looked over at you.

And he surely couldn't recall when you'd looked back at him, but all of a sudden you had.

All of a sudden the two of you were sitting there in that bed with that wall and your hand in his.

And it was just like Liberio.

“Don't go tonight,” he'd said as his fingers curled, for the first time, around yours. You were touching him. Not to change a bandage, or give him his medicine, or check his heart rate. You were touching him all on your own for the first time.

“Why wouldn't I go to the festival?” You laughed with a smile. A smile so wide and genuine that Eren wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever. “It sounds fun.”

“Please,” Eren begged. Before he could stop himself, he'd lifted his hand to cup your cheek.

He was touching you. He was touching you and not because you were changing his shirt, or passing him a tart, or helping him hobble across his hospital room. He was touching you all on his own.

His thumb brushed against your cheek. Your warm cheek, as the image of your bloody body, discarded against the cobblestone, flashed through his mind.

No. No no no no no please no.

“Mr. Kruger I-”

You were just as close right now as you had been then. Looking up at him with the same eyes, the warmth of your palm against him in the same way.

Except it wasn't the same, right? It was different now.

He was different now. He was Eren, not Mr. Kruger.

In a different life under different circumstances with a different path in front of him.

You were safe here, finally, where there wasn’t fire or rubble or cobblestone. Here, where nothing bad could happen to you.

Eren's hand cupped your cheek and the two of you moved closer. It was warmer here. It was better.

He was better. He was Eren, not Mr. Kruger.

“Is… Is this allowed...” your breath ghosted across his lips as you asked it again.

Eren's eyes slid closed as he nodded. He leaned in, craving your kiss so badly that it almost hur-

“...Mr. Kruger?” 

Until you finished your sentence and Eren’s world completely shattered. 

Mr. Kruger.

Right.

That’s who he was to you right now. He wasn’t Eren, he was Mr. Kruger.

“She’ll do it.” “Oh good, your dog can do more than just fetch.”

“She's distracting you, Eren.” “No, she's not.”

“Then kill her.”

Eren’s palms grew damp with nervous sweat. His stomach turned. His heartbeat rang in his ears, this time for a different reason entirely.

Mr. Kruger Mr. Kruger Mr. Kruger

That’s who he was to you.

Mr. Kruger

Eren pulled away from you, trying not to watch your heartbroken expression as he pushed out of bed. “H-Have a good night,” he stuttered before he left the room.

He didn’t turn back to look at you. He couldn’t.

He was worried that if he did, all he’d see would be-

Fire and screaming. The roar of his titan. The zipping of lines. And a body-  your body -lifeless against the battered streets.

Eren didn’t want to look back because if he did, he’d remember who he was to you.

Mr. Kruger

The man who had manipulated you into loving him.

*Libero* 854

“Good morning Mr. Kruger!” Three days into his undercover mission and it had quickly become one of his least favourite sounds. 

Eren groaned as he sat up.

Headache. Pills. Wate-

“I snuck you an extra apple,” you told him with a wide smile, holding up the crisp red fruit just for him. He wanted to deny it and tell you he didn’t need your pity, but his rumbling stomach betrayed him and he reached for the apple anyway.

You laughed. “Don’t tell anyone or they’ll accuse me of picking favourites.”

Juice dribbled down his chin as he bit into the apple.

He looked over at you as he chewed.

It was a good apple.

Crisp. Fresh. Sweet.

It was a good apple.

And the way your eyes light up- with so much hope and joy, like a dog waiting to be praised- it was-

It was pathetic.

Pathetic how eager you were to please.

…he could use that…

TAG LIST: (like this post to be added or unlike it to be removed)

@xngelsau @f4irygard3n @vlsquuu @fvckingeetar @shmaptainbonky @maluvilela @gojojang @merrygo14 @ebubeu @janneeeexdxc @yn7877 @misshale21 @dracucil @venus1224idkpleaze @decadentprunepersonadragon @magictrump @kooromin @ilovemollyweasley @azulaenthusiast @dattebakay @suagxsugax @sky-full-of-magic @longestline @skoll1897 @hayleighloatx @datshittuebrat @br0ken-g1rl @tbzzluvr @jaeg3rb0mb @ratkidcalledallie @sieihebendh @lcve1yk3nz1e @marklover142717 @areenaa @luvs4kim @anything4yoongi @misavxz @dumdxm @pink-apples001

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Last day of new teacher orientation tomorrow and I had better get my questions answered tomorrow or I’m gonna explode

[designernishiki]

woke up at 6:50am after getting two (2) hours of sleep just to get some merch from the recieve you kazumaji zine leftover sale i am dedicated and miserable

[goatsandgangsters]

how to find literally any post on a blog in seconds (on desktop)

there are so many posts about ~tumblr is so broken, you can’t find any post on your own blog, it’s impossible, bluhrblub~

I am here to tell you otherwise! it is in fact INCREDIBLY easy to find a post on a blog if you’re on desktop/browser and you know what you’re doing:

url.tumblr.com/tagged/croissant will bring up EVERY post on the blog tagged with the specific and exact phrase #croissant. every single post, every single time. in chronological order starting with the most recent post. note: it will not find #croissants or that time you made the typo #croidnssants. for a tag with multiple words, it’s just /tagged/my-croissant and it will show you everything with the exact phrase #my croissant

url.tumblr.com/tagged/croissant/chrono will bring up EVERY post on the blog tagged with the exact phrase #croissant, but it will show them in reverse order with the oldest first 

url.tumblr.com/search/croissant isn’t as perfect at finding everything, but it’s generally loads better than the search on mobile. it will find a good array of posts that have the word croissant in them somewhere. could be in the body of the post (op captioned it “look at my croissant”) or in the tags (#man I want a croissant). it won’t necessarily find EVERYTHING like /tagged/ does, but I find it’s still more reliable than search on mobile. you can sometimes even find posts by a specific user by searching their url. also, unlike whatever random assortment tumblr mobile pulls up, it will still show them in a more logically chronological order

url.tumblr.com/day/2020/11/05 will show you every post on the blog from november 5th, 2020, in case you’re taking a break from croissants to look for destiel election memes 

url.tumblr.com/archive/ is search paradise. easily go to a particular month and see all posts as thumbnails! search by post type! search by tags but as thumbnails now

url.tumblr.com/archive/filter-by/audio will show you every audio post on your blog (you can also filter by other post types). sometimes a little imperfect if you’re looking for a video when the op embedded the video in a text post instead of posting as a video post, etc

url.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/croissant will show you EVERY post on the blog tagged with the specific and exact phrase #croissant, but it will show you them in the archive thumbnail view divided by months. very useful if you’re looking for a specific picture of a croissant that was reblogged 6 months ago and want to be able to scan for it quickly 

url.tumblr.com/archive/filter-by/audio/tagged/croissant will show you every audio post tagged with the specific phrase #croissant (you can also filter by photo or text instead, because I don’t know why you have audio posts tagged croissant) 

the tag system on desktop tumblr is GENUINELY amazing for searching within a specific blog! 

caveat: this assumes a person HAS a desktop theme (or “custom theme”) enabled. a “custom theme” is url.tumblr.com, as opposed to tumblr.com/url. I’ve heard you have to opt-into the former now, when it used to be the default, so not everyone HAS a custom theme where you can use all those neat url tricks. 

if the person doesn’t have a “custom theme” enabled, you’re beholden to the search bar. still, I’ve found the search bar on tumblr.com/url is WAY more reliable than search on mobile. for starters, it tends to bring posts up in a sensible order, instead of dredging up random posts from 2013 before anything else

if you’re on mobile, I’m sorry. godspeed and good luck finding anything. (my one tip is that if you’re able to click ON a tag rather than go through the search bar, you’ll have better luck. if your mutual has recently reblogged a post tagged #croissant, you can click #croissant and it’ll bring up everything tagged #croissant just like /tagged/croissant. but if there’s no readily available tag to click on, you have to rely on the mobile search bar and its weird bizarre whims) 

[kisshim]

ugh my friend looking at me all weird when i said i’d rather be with someone that has the same religious beliefs as me and telling me she’s never thought ‘i’d be that way’ even though we’ve been friends for years and she’s seen me pray and go to the temple and observe auspicious days and whole months like is it not??? real to you??? it felt like she was questioning whether or not i was actually hindu it’s fucking crazy like i felt like screaming

[anaquariusfox]

I spent the evening looking into this AI shit and made a wee informative post of the information I found and thought all artists would be interested and maybe help yall?

edit: forgot to mention Glaze and Nightshade to alter/disrupt AI from taking your work into their machines. You can use these and post and it will apparently mess up the AI and it wont take your content into it's machine!

edit: ArtStation is not AI free! So make sure to read that when signing up if you do! (this post is also on twt)

[Image descriptions: A series of infographics titled: “Opt Out AI: [Social Media] and what I found.” The title image shows a drawing of a person holding up a stack of papers where the first says, ‘Terms of Service’ and the rest have logos for various social media sites and are falling onto the floor. Long transcriptions follow.

Instagram/Meta (I have to assume Facebook).

Hard for all users to locate the “opt out” options. The option has been known to move locations.

You have to click the opt out link to submit a request to opt out of the AI scraping. *You have to submit screenshots of your work/face/content you posted to the app, is curretnly being used in AI. If you do not have this, they will deny you.

Users are saying after being rejected, are being “meta blocked”

People’s requests are being accepted but they still have doubts that their content won’t be taken anyways.

Twitter/X

As of August 2023, Twitter’s ToS update:

“Twitter has the right to use any content that users post on its platform to train its AI models, and that users grant Twitter a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to do so.”

There isn’t much to say. They’re doing the same thing Instagram is doing (to my understanding) and we can’t even opt out.

Tumblr

They also take your data and content and sell it to AI models.

But you’re in luck!

It is very simply to opt out (Wow. Thank Gods)

Opt out on Desktop: click on your blog > blog settings > scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle

Out out of Mobile: click your blog > scroll then click visibility > toggle opt out option

TikTok

I took time skim their ToS and under “How We Use Your Information” and towards the end of the long list: “To train and improve our technology, such as our machine learning models and algorithms.”

Regarding data collected; they will only not sell your data when “where restricted by applicable law”. That is not many countries. You can refuse/disable some cookies by going into settings > ads > turn off targeted ads.

I couldn’t find much in AI besides “our machine learning models” which I think is the same thing.

What to do?

In this age of the internet, it’s scary! But you have options and can pick which are best for you!

Accepting these platforms collection of not only your artwork, but your face! And not only your faces but the faces of those in your photos. Your friends and family. Some of those family members are children! Some of those faces are minors! I shudder to think what darker purposes those faces could be used for.

Opt out where you can! Be mindful and know the content you are posting is at risk of being loaded to AI if unable to opt out.

Fully delete (not archive) your content/accounts with these platforms. I know it takes up to 90 days for instagram to “delete” your information. And even keep it for “legal” purposes like legal prevention.

Use lesser known social media platforms! Some examples are; Signal, Mastodon, Diaspora, et. As well as art platforms: Artfol, Cara, ArtStation, etc.

The last drawing shows the same person as the title saying, ‘I am, by no means, a ToS autistic! So feel free to share any relatable information to these topics via reply or qrt!

I just wanted to share the information I found while searching for my own answers cause I’m sure people have the same questions as me.’ \End description] (thank you @a-captions-blog!)

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES TIP JAR

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

Your future spouse will find how controlled you are but how they manage to make you lose control to be very sexy. You’ll have a natural sensuality going for you even outside the bedroom. Initially, they’ll feel like they see you because you’ll be sort of lonely, it’s not going to be something that you’ll be actively dwelling on instead you’ll be extremely nurturing and genuine with those around you, trying to take care of yourself, spreading kindness and remaining connected to what truly matters. You’re going to seem really grounded and based in reality, you’ll look like you take good care of yourself physically because at that time, you will be. When they’ll come in, you’ll still seem very controlled but the more time starts going by, the more you’ll start handing the control over to them. They’ll discover new sides of you - the side of you that gets angry and throws a fit when you lose something, the side of you that isolates yourself when hurt, the side of you that kicks your feet in the air joyfully whilst seated on a chair, the side of you that hasn’t told anyone that you carry all the bills, the side of you that cries when worried about your finances and future, so on and so forth. They’re going to want to protect you, and give you all the stability and love that you so deeply deserve. You’ll react a certain way when they’re visibly angry. Your cheeks will flush up with a visible tinge of red, your lips will be slightly parted and you’ll be closing it again, and again, you’ll bite your lower lip and nibble it to ease up your nervousness and the tingling sensations that you’ll be feeling all over your body. Oh, they’re going to want to take you right then and there, they’ll want to release their anger and make up with you in what I (and probably they) consider to be the most effective way. Assuming that they’re a man, you’ll bring out an even manlier side of them. I’m not sure what you consider to be a true man but I personally think that a true man is a kind, considerate protector and provider. You’ll not bring out the animalistic and lustful side of them right away, they’re going to feel a strong sexual attraction towards you but it’s going to be an undercurrent, it’s going to be hard to be around you due to how strongly attracted they’ll feel towards you but their crush on you, the fluttery butterflies in their belly, the desire to catch a glimpse of you without you noticing, the desire to know how you feel, the desire to sort out their own emotions is going to be their main area of focus. They’ll find it hard to be around you without noticing you, they’ll even have to maintain the pace of their breathing in case they forget to breathe, they’ll feel you through your energy alone, their body will grow physically warmer when you’re around but their main area of focus will be on being who and what you’ll need them to be at that time. They’ll feel protective towards you and will want to look out for your needs. Not only that but you’ll also bring out an almost childlike yet father-like aspect from within them, the romance and warmth shared between you will be like no other. At times, they’re going to find themself acting like their child self in front of you, you’ll draw out the tenderness from within them. They’ll be so smitten, so childlike, almost naive because of your influence, you’ll make them so happy, so childlike, that they’ll often not even realize that they’re smiling. It’ll be difficult for them to contain their smile even at the mere sight of you. You’re going to be their dream person, they’ll not have felt this way for anyone else. Loving you will come so naturally to them, you’ll make them feel something that they didn’t know they were in search of, the kind of love that cannot even be written about.

It will be the kind of love that no matter how much one may try cannot be channeled into any art form, the kind of love that cannot even be described, the kind of love in front of which every word in the dictionary is bound to fall short, the kind of love that only be felt from within the deepest layers of the heart. “I don’t want a palace of mirrors, with you, even dry bread feels good” is the energy that I’m getting here. Your down to earth way of living will give them a new life and their structured, disciplined, respected and respectful ways of living will give you the same. Well, the thing about being down to earth is, earth does not only have peaceful and still lakes, and rivers, it also has volcanos, and you seem to be a volcano. Even though, usually you tend to be more calm, due to your flaming hot chemistry with them and your lack of knowledge on how to deal with it, you’ll erupt quite a lot. However, in bed, you’re going to let them take you in ways that you never would outside of it. You’re going to let them lead you and will not give them a single moment of silence, you’re going to be noisy - you’ll moan, you’ll cry, you’ll hum, you’ll groan, YOU’RE EVEN GOING TO LAUGH and they’re going to love it all. I’m getting that while you’re going to be giving yourself to them completely, you’re still going to act like a brat at times. Despite this, they’re going to be the one in control and they’ll love it. You’re going to change the way you’re acting within minutes but it’s going to make it all the more exciting, it’s just going to piece together, almost as if everything was well planned beforehand. They’re going to love the way one moment you’re running your mouth and the next you’re keeping shut, and taking it. They’re going to edge you to the point you can’t take it anymore and try to take matters into your own hands… or should I say ‘fingers’, just for them to hold you in place, they’ll hand cuff you and tie your hands if the need be there but they’ll usually be strong enough to keep your fingers from giving you the friction you so desperately crave, not having to use any external materials to quote unquote ‘keep you from misbehaving’. They’re going to find it all so sexy, the way you whine and try to protest just to have to end up practicing a virtue namely ‘patience’. Also, you have a really high sex drive. They’re going to love your ability to keep up, in fact, you’ll do more than just keep up, you’ll please them and you’ll both love it. You’re never going to be able to get enough of each other and what’s sexier than that? You seem to have an overstimulation kink and they seem to have it too, they’re going to want you to not be able to walk comfortably after your sexual encounters and they’re going to want to experience pleasure to the point they’re too sensitive to continue. I’m getting that either you’ll have eight to nine rounds of orgasms (as long as you have time for it) or they’ll give you rounds after rounds of pleasure until your head is spinning and you genuinely can’t take it anymore. They’re going to love the way you try to keep your legs shut, not even being able to vocalise that you can’t take it anymore, the way your legs shake when they continue pushing, the way you arch your back and roll your eyes with the most exquisite music coming out from within your diaphragm, the way you grab their hair and scratch their back while riding your high, and the way you let out a playful and vivacious laugh after all is done, and you’ve finally caught your breath. Also, the way you’ll look at them, still disheveled after your love making session and then a small smile will creep up your cheeks until you have a wide smile across your face. The saying that “it hits different when it’s made with love” will stand true in your case. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

They’ll love missionary, you’ll love missionary, the end! Ahaha, just kidding. On a more serious note, they’re going to find you to be very physically attractive, even with clothes on. They’ll have a great deal of appreciation for your values and who you are as a person. They’re going to love everything about you, from the way you walk, to the way you talk, to the way you move. They’re going to feel a pull towards you from the very first time they’ll meet you and this feeling will only continue to grow into more and more passion as they spend more time with you. They’re going to feel a desire to be with you and you’re going to reciprocate their energy for which they’ll be really grateful. It’ll be a natural flowing connection where the both of you will desire each other and will care about each other from the very start. They’ll love that you enjoy risky situations, it’s going to be sexy how you’ll be the one to initiate stuff in such cases, like in family gatherings, if you’re in the kitchen with other people and the both of you are standing behind the counter in a way where your lower bodies are covered, you’ll just rub your hand over their tool from over their jeans, continuing your conversation with the other people present and gosh, it’ll be so sexy, they could get off to the memory of it. You’re going to tease them like that quite a lot - touching them at times when you shouldn’t be, making suggestive comments, just to leave them alone to deal with it while you go ahead with your day. Another thing that they’ll find incredibly sexy is the way you seamlessly combine tenderness and intensity. As you both will lie close, your bodies almost touching, there’s going to be a magnetic pull in the air, a silent promise of intimacy. What they’ll find most captivating is how you can be both passionate and gentle, knowing exactly when to take the lead and when to let the moment unfold naturally. You’ll seem to be perfectly in sync with one another. Even the sizes of your body and the way it looks, it’ll seem as though the both of you were supposed to fit together. No matter if you were a virgin before you met them or have had a long line of sexual encounters lined up from before you met them, you’ll move with a subtle confidence, a quiet power that doesn’t need to be spoken - each gesture will be deliberate yet fluid, as if every action is meant to communicate something deeper. When your hands glide over their skin, there’s going to be a sense of connection, an understanding of what they need without them having to say a word. It’s as if you’re not just touching them physically but reaching into their very soul, creating an encounter that feels both exhilarating and comforting. There will be moments when you’ll let your emotions take the lead, allowing your vulnerability to show. This openness, this willingness to bare your heart, will be intensely sexy to them. Supposing, you’re sharing a quiet moment together, perhaps after an evening of passionate love-making and you start to talk about your deepest feelings, your voice might falter here and there but even so you’ll continue telling them about it as if you could never break their trust and that will be the moment that pulls them in even closer.

In the throes of passion, they’ll be enchanted by your ability to shift the dynamic effortlessly. One minute, you might be tender and slow, savoring each kiss, each touch as if time itself has slowed down just for you. The next, there’s a sudden intensity - a fire that burns brightly, consuming both of you in its heat. Your spontaneity will keep them on their toes, never quite knowing what to expect but loving every moment of it. Yet, it’s not just the passion that will captivate them, it’s the sense of trust you cultivate in those moments. When you’re together, they’ll feel like they can let go of all their worries, all their defenses, because you’ve created a space where it’s safe to be completely themselves. There will be times when you both lie in silence, your bodies intertwined, and they’ll realize that this is what they’ve been searching for - a partner who understands that intimacy is as much about emotional connection as it is about physical pleasure. In those quieter moments, your future spouse will be mesmerized by how you listen, how you pay attention to the smallest details. Maybe it’s the way you instinctively know when they need to be held a little tighter or the way you remember something they mentioned in passing and bring it up at just the right time. These small gestures, these signs of your deep care and understanding, will make them fall even more in love with you. So well, I would say that what they’ll find most sexy about you is the way you make them feel cherished, desired and completely understood. You will have this incredible ability to make every moment feel special, to turn the ordinary into something extraordinary. 69… they’ll love it. They’ll find it extremely sexy when you sit down for them to lick and suck you. They’ll especially love your smell, when you sit down for them to eat you out, they’ll take a long breath in, finding something as simple as normal vaginal smell to be appealing and worth remembering. I wouldn’t even be surprised if they secretly, at least once or twice sniff your panties. It’s not like it’s an actual fetish that they have but they find it funny and thrilling regardless? They’re going to love your giggles, I’m not sure how you giggle but it’ll be one of their favourite parts of your aftercare, while the both of you will be having a conversation, you’ll just giggle and they’ll just stare at you like “___ is so endearing, what have I gotten myself into?” They might get cuteness aggression and crush you in their arms, rupturing your ribcage slightly xD. I’m so sorry but I’m not even being able to describe everything that’s coming through in words because your connection is going to be divine in nature. Even the sex is going to feel surreal. They’re going to be turned on by everything you’ll do so they’ll find everything about you sexy, they’ll find YOU to be sexy. It’s not going to be the way you are or anything that you do, it’s going to be who you are that they’re going to find sexy. All of it. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

︎︎⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

Welcome, my make up sex pile! They’ll find it sexy as to how almost all your fights end with the both of you in bed. As a couple, you’ll both indulge in pretty rough play. There will be a lot of biting and scratching involved alongside dirty talking. When it comes to your fights, even when the both of you are making up through activities, the bickering will continue. However, the bickering is going to get dirty and exciting. “You really think you’re always right, don’t you?” Then, they’ll bite and suck on a sensitive spot on your neck while playing with your kitty (assuming that you’re a girl/woman). “How about this? Do you like that?” They’ll probably grab your hair a lot and you’re going to do the same too. They’re going to find it incredibly sexy as to how you grab their hair while they’re eating you out, also your mouth will be slightly agape. They’ll want to see it all, they’ll not want to let their eyes stray away from your face for even a moment. Honestly, I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t want to either because you seem to have really sexy facial expressions while in bed. They’re going to love the way you react when you’re getting close, how you bite your lower lip in order to hold back sounds sometimes, the way your breathing gets quicker, your face gets redder and your eyes become half lidded. There will be something about the way you raise your hips and slightly move them while they’re eating you out that they’ll find incredibly enticing. They’ll find themself smiling and smirking while eating you out and even while kissing you. They’re going to love the feel of you in every sense - the way you feel on their tongue, the way your tongue entwines with theirs, the way you smell like vanilla/roses/whatever fragrance you wear just for you to end up sweaty and smell like it as your sexual encounter continues. They’re going to find the smell of your sweat to be really sexy too. I’m not sure how to explain it to you but it’ll just appeal to them. I feel like they’re going to be someone who naturally sweats a lot as well but regardless of that, they’re going to look very sexy while sweating. Also, they’ll love how you look with your face and body, all red and sweaty after all the fun activities that you’ve done together. They’re a very possessive and passionate person, and so are you. You’re both going to indulge in a lot of jealous and angry sex. I usually don’t feel called to name placements but who here has major cancer, leo, 4th house or 5th house placements? If not you’re probably going to share those synastry placements. Many of you here might be inexperienced and when they’ll meet you, you might even have an innocent image going for you. However, they’ll be able to pick up on the fact that you have something dirty lurking under the surface. Many of you are not willing to sleep with just anyone, you wish to sleep with those who love you deeply and who you love deeply. Naturally, due to your innocent image yet the sense of something dirty and lewd hidden within you, you’re going to seem very corruptible. In fact, you probably are very corruptible, they’re going to love how you get better with time and the power, and control that they’ll have over you. There’s going to be a theme of overindulgence, you’ll both prefer to have multiple rounds and many different ways of reaching, and riding your high. They’re going to love 69 with you, you’ll personally really love it as well. It’s not just 69, you’ll also enjoy mutual masturbation. To be honest, both the parties here seem to be pretty sexual in nature so you’ll love any and every position that you can do 💀. You’re going to love overstimulation and so will they, I’m getting a lot of clitoris stimulation taking place here. They’re going to use a vibrator on you a lot and they’re going to love the way you react.

They’re going to use the toy even when they’re inside you because that way, even they’ll be able to feel some vibrations and they’ll love the way you’re having a lot to handle at the same time. Regardless of whether you’re flat or busty, they’re going to pinch, lick and suck your tits a lot. They are going to enjoy the thrill of controlling. Almost always, they’ll be the one in control, you’ll often find yourself at their mercy. There will be times when they’ll be heavily stimulating you but will not allow you to reach your high. They’ll either command you to not cum until they give you the permission to do so or they’ll stop ride before you reach your peak. They’re going to love how you become putty in their hands, how your usually arrogant self becomes so helpless while they’re handling you. They’re going to find the way you react to them degrading and praising you to be very naughty. They’ll find it sexy when you can’t take it anymore so you try to get them to give you what you so desperately want and in fact, need. You’ll have your ways of trying to get what you want, some of them being - peppering them with pecks all over their face, kissing them deeply before pleading them to give you what you want or looking at them with puppy-ish eyes telling them just how much you need them, how much you wish to feel them, to feel their touch get you to your point of pleasure. You’ll start acting quite youthful as the session continues, simply just wanting them to take care of you and baby you, and give you what you want of course. You might find yourself talking in a baby voice, trying to convince them to give you what you want. You’ll get louder and make more noise as the session progresses as well. You’ll try to persuade them. “Please, I promise to behave. I promise to give you anything, to do anything, to be anything, please just let me do this.” Eye contact and each other’s face seems to be important to you, like they’ll be looking up at you while eating you out and you’ll be looking down at them with your hand grabbing their hair, they’ll want to do missionary with crazy deep eye contact, when you’re giving them head, you’ll want to look at their facial expressions as well, even when you’re doing positions such as doggystyle and reverse cowgirl, you’ll try to get a glance at each other’s faces once in a while. You’re also going to be observant of them, if their face doesn’t show that they’re experiencing the pleasure that you want them to feel, you’ll do something different that will be more pleasurable and they’ll love it, the way you try to be your best for them, give your all to them. Especially initially, because many of you seem to be inexperienced, you might not be as confident and not know all the ways of pleasuring someone but you’ll try your best and it will show. You might even say things like “I know that I might not have been that good but I promise to get better” or “did I do well? Are you proud of me?” at the end of your encounters. They’re going to find the afterglow to be endearing and sexy. You’ll usually be drenched in sweat and so will they but despite all the smell, you’ll want to kiss each other, you’ll make out but very sensually. They’ll love the intimacy that you’ll both share and well, since make up sex is going to be very common. You’re both going to voice out your emotions and communicate in the end. They’re going to love the soft, smooth and loving energy between you after such an explosive encounter that literally happened because the both of you were fighting. It’s going to feel deep and intimate, how the two of you can experience such dualities and fluctuations together. You’re both going to be unsuspectingly adorable and affectionate almost innocent with each other after everything is done as if you didn’t just engage in such erotic activities. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

[amu-says-hav-says]

I can’t believe I went through all of Season 2 assuming Nina was the stand-in for Crowley when you actually pay attention it’s so CLEAR that she’s Aziraphale. I was tricked by her spiky, sarcastic, cynical outer shell and lulled into a false sense of security by Maggie’s bubbly optimism and wholesome goodness, because on the surface they reflect the ineffable husbands perfectly, in their personalities, their aesthetics, even many of their actions and morals. but not, and this is the real key, when it comes to their “relationship”. but those first impressions really had me damn fooled. 

I missed the blatantness of Nina’s “we’re just friends. actually we’re not friends. we barely know each other.” the same thing Aziraphale said in season 1.  the way he still struggles to quantify their friendship when Nina asks. Nina’s sarcasm when Crowley asks about rain and awnings because it worked for him (we all know it LMAO). hell, that whole convo the girls have in the rain is so AziraCrow (“I know. I’m not your type” “...You have no idea” hits so much harder the second time, help meeeee.) “Lindsay” maybe being symbolic of Heaven and Aziraphale’s toxic relationship with them and their abuse? (the handwritten text messages in red pen make me think of angry notes on paperwork, anyone else?) because Crowley has never actually cared about what Hell thinks of him, just not getting into trouble (or him or Aziraphale getting hurt). Maggie is always chasing Nina. NINA NEVER GOES IN THE RECORD STORE. Just like Crowley always goes to the bookstore, to Aziraphale, Zira NEVER WENT TO THE FLAT (apart from The Swap but that doesn’t count imo). Crowley has always chased Zira, not the other way around. Always there to rescue him, always going to him for company, always relying on their shared connection, always US. OUR SIDE. All through season one, he comes to Zira every time to work together, never trying to work alongside Hell in any way that isn’t to save their skins or Earth, while Zira hides things from Crowley because he STILL thinks Heaven is ultimately good and will do the right thing if he can just show them. fix it from the inside. 

Maggie working up the courage to finally say something, to put herself out there, while Nina is utterly oblivious and then when she does realise Maggie has feelings, becoming standoffish, putting up that barrier, fighting it, denying it, ITS SO CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT ORDER. the way I was fooled into thinking Nina’s trust issues are Crowley because he does have trust issues ofc he does BUT Crowley has ALWAYS TRUSTED AZIRAPHALE. has always relied on him. has always been hurt when Aziraphale doesn’t immediately reciprocate the way he expects (the holy water request, the bandstand, the “off in the stars” etc). he’s always the one putting himself forward. Aziraphale has always been the one to second guess everything, to fight their connection, their similarities, their friendship. the girls really made me think it was going to be okay when they sat Crowley down, even as my inner sirens were going haywire about Metatron interfering, they were telling Crowley he just needs to open up and it’ll all work out BUT HE’S ALREADY AT THAT POINT. he may not say it, and by gosh is that part of their damn problem, but he’s always SHOWN IT. he’s not Nina who needs time to heal and recover from her broken trust, he’s always been Maggie believing it doesn’t matter, they’ll end up together in the end anyway AND I WALKED RIGHT INTO THE TRAP THAT THIS MEANT THEY WERE GOING TO BE OKAYYYYYYYYYYY

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Surprise

Ghosting pt. 1

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.

Part 2 here

“kids?”

“What about them?”

“Would you ever want any?”

It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.

“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.

“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.

As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…

“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”

That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.

You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.

That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.

You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…

Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?

Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.

You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.

Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.

As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.

“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.

“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”

Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.

‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.

“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.

“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.

“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.

You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”

“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.

You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.

It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.

After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.

You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.

Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.

“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”

“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”

“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.

“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”

You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.

“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.

“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.

You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.

Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.

Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.

You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.

Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”

꧁——————————꧂

Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)

[luvrxbunny]

so much

pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader

summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i blacked out again. 

Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 

This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 

Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 

“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 

“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 

“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 

“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”

(“... So fucking bad but…”)

Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   

What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…

“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”

Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’

The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 

He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 

He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”

“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 

You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.

(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)

“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 

“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 

("... strange, abnormal,")

“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”

He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.

("No matter what I do.")

“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 

You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 

“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”

(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)

You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 

You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”

(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)

You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 

“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.

He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 

You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.

You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 

“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 

(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)

(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 

(‘I love that.”)

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

[number-1-crush]

oh my fucking god. OH my fucking god

[moonstruckme]

Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning. 

It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after. 

Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything. 

He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards. 

You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine. 

“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in. 

“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable. 

The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment. 

When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“You know how to cook?” 

“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?” 

“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board. 

“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.” 

You frown. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Didn’t expect you to, love.” 

“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?” 

There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?” 

“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.” 

“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.” 

“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.” 

James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside. 

“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.” 

“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.” 

“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.” 

“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.” 

“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.” 

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself. 

James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food. 

“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.” 

“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing. 

“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.” 

“Do you?” 

James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.

He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans. 

“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.” 

You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month. 

James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder. 

He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask. 

James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?” 

He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.” 

This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity. 

You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?” 

He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you. 

“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.” 

“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.” 

The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing. 

You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness. 

“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.” 

You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.” 

James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.” 

You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.” 

“Guess you’ll never know.” 

[delirious-donna]

The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot

Masterlist

“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”

Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.

“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.

Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.

“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.

Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.

A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 

He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”

“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 

Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”

Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.

“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.

He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.

You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”

Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.

A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.

You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.

It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…

Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.

His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”

“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 

“Spit it out, Higuruma.”

Oh, he was in trouble.

Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”

“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”

“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.

When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 

“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”

Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.

“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.

“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”

How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

~

The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.

Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.

Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.

You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 

Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.

No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.

Higuruma could get used to this. 

He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 

It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.

However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.

The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.

Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 

You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.

By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.

“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”

Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 

As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 

“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 

You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.

There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 

It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.

“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.

“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”

Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.

You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.

“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”

Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.

“Fuck… take it out, please.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 

For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.

It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.

“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”

“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.

Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 

His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.

Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 

His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.

“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.

You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.

He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.

You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 

“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.

The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 

He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.

Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.

With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 

Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.

“Mr Higuruma?”

“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.

“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”

Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.

“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”

Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.

[chrisevansonly]

Playing With Fire

Max Verstappen x Female Reader

summary: you and stella are max’s world, and he’d be damned if he let his father speak ill of either of you.

warnings: angst, jos (ew), angry max, slight mentions of crying, fluff at end

a/n: this is a re-upload to see if it shows up in the tags 🥲

When Stella was born, it was one of the best days ever for Max, seeing his baby girl come into the world, and the way she practically latched onto him from the minute she was welcomed into the family. He knew right then and there he would be the absolute best father to his daughter, just as he was the best husband to you, and always had been.

If there was one thing Max nor you completely enjoyed it was family events when everyone got together, including Jos. Max’s father.Max and his father have a complicated relationship, in a way they seem close but there’s always that edge to his dad that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat. You in particular seemed to still be an issue to him, and every once in a while, you’d become the punching bag at the dinner table.

Stella was sleeping in your arms as you sat next to Max at the dinner table, Jos across from you both and his mother on the other end with the rest of his family and some friends that had joined for the monthly get together.

“So when is the next Verstappen coming?” His father asked looking at you. Stella was only 6 months old so you and Max were happy to just enjoy the time you have with her now, not even thinking about another baby.

“Oh, well i’m sure someday we’ll have another…”

“We’re in no rush” Max butted in, assuming it would stop his father’s line of questioning.

“Yes well, it’s just you had a baby girl…there has to be a boy in the equation…”

You furrowed your brows, fixing Stella’s blanket as she continued to sleep, oblivious to the rising tensions in the room.

“I don’t think so? There’s nothing wrong with having girls..”

“Who’s supposed to carry on the name?”

Max sat up straighter, his hand squeezing your knee gently

“Stella will just as our next baby will eventually, regardless of their gender.”

Jos shook his head taking a sip of his water as he sighed, before looking back at you.

“All i’m saying is you should be trying for a boy.”

“Well it doesn’t work that way.”

The table was getting quieter as the father and son squared off, Jos not backing down and Max not about to let his father attack you in anyway. Not on his watch.

“I knew the second you had a daughter it would make you weak, let alone marrying her and having that baby! She’s useless if she can’t have a boy! You’re wasting your time Max, I knew from the second I met her it would ruin our family.”

Used to his harassment you didn’t cry, but it didn’t stop tears from welling up in your eyes as you almost deflated in a way, hugging Stella closer to your chest. The minute your eyes looked to Max, long gone was his soft stare and gentle smile, replaced was a look almost predatory as he looked to his father.

“Watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking about the mother of my child.”

“Max-”

“No, get out.”

“Excuse me?” Jos’s eyes widened and he shook his head

“GET THE HELL OUT!”

Max yelled, slamming his hands down on the table, seconds later Stella stirring before whimpering in your arms. The dutchman froze and looked apologetically at you as you excused yourself to go up to the nursery, only then turning back to look at his father.

“If you ever so much as think about speaking about my wife and daughter again, it’ll be me coming after you. Now get the fuck out.”

Jos didn’t even offer to say anything else, pushing back his chair and storming out, effectively cutting the dinner to an end as everyone left, Max’s mother sticking around to help clean up and of course comfort you afterwards. She had always been close to you and Max and in a way she was like a mother to you too.

“Baby?”

Turning at the sound of your husbands voice you smiled, still holding Stella in your arms, only this time she was much calmer, her eyes lighting up as she spots her dad.

“Hi, everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that…”

Shrugging you let him take Stella from you, his demeanour much more relaxed with his baby girl in his arms as he placed a few kisses to her cheeks.

“I know what your father is like, yes it hurts but I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters…we have a beautiful baby girl, and that man will never be able to change what we have.”

Max nods, bringing you into his side and leaning down to kiss you softly

“You’re right, he can’t. I’ll never let him ever disrespect you like that ever again. No matter what I have to do.”

“I know you won’t Maxie…and I love you very much for it, Stella too, huh baby?”

Stroking her cheek gently she babbled happily, leaning on Max’s shoulder, her hand patting his chest gently

“My girls…I love you both so much, i’ll always protect you both, with my everything.”

Nothing else needed to be said in the moment, all Max needed was his girls and he felt whole. Nothing else mattered because to him he had everything he’d ever wanted in his life. Despite what he went through growing up, Jos had never made his heart turn cold, he made it big enough to hold the love he had for you two, and would always hold, no matter what happened.

Besides, everyone knew messing with the Verstappen girls, was playing with fire.

[thestuffedalligator]

“For each of her birthdays, I’ve given my niece a gift that has something to do with hummingbirds. I’ve given her hummingbird books, hummingbird clothes, hummingbird hats, hummingbird toys, and my dream is that when I have to disappear and start a new identity, someday, years in the future, she’ll go to her parents and say, ‘This weird woman walked up to me and gave me a hummingbird necklace,’ and then they’ll know I’m still alive.”

“Sorry — putting aside the fact that you’ve planned your eventual disappearance — woman?”

“I assume by that point I figure out I’m trans.”

“Oh. Well. No offence but you can do that now.”

“Thank you, but it’ll be easier when I have to disappear and start a new identity anyways.”