#Also live blogging is fun for me too ESPECIALLY when I can come back to it later

[shima-draws]

I haven't watched more than like, 8 episodes of once piece, but i just want to say that i'm loving your live(?) blogging of the episodes as you go. especially all the sanji x luffy, it's all very cute in general but also how excited you get about it is fantastic.

that's all! i just love seeing people passionately enjoy things.

AAGFGHGHF THANK YOU OMG........I feel like I've been REALLY annoying talking about Sanlu nonstop but I'm glad at least somebody is enjoying it lmao. But if there's one place where I SHOULD have no filter and feel free to talk about my ships constantly, it should be my own blog right. LOL

Essentially,

[littlemissmiller]

𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend

Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y���all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎

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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.

Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.

He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.

As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.

“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”

“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately

He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.

“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked

“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else

“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”

You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.

“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.” You lied again

“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table

Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.

“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”

“Clearly” you giggled

“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.

“What ya playing?

“COD” he remarked dryly

“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired

“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”

“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”

“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”

“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”

“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.

You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.

“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined

“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.

“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”

He sighed, turning over

“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”

“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”

“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.

The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.

By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.

“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.

“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked

“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.

“About the same as the last time you saw me.”

“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked

“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.

“She would if there was one.”

“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more

“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.

“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”

“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over

“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”

“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained

“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”

You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.

“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked

“And he tips well too.”

“Gee I wonder why” they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”

“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly

“Mhmm sure” they said

You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.

Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.

Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.

But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.

Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.

“See you Wednesday :) Joel”

You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.

“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “

“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.

“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.

“Who’s Joel?”

“My regular” you repeated

“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.

“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”

“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”

“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again

“You expect me to believe that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back

“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh then what is he?”

“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie

From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.

“Well hey their sugar” he smiled

“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile

He searched your face and could tell something is up.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”

He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.

“Thinking about food?” You asked him

“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“

“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff

“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”

“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.

Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel

“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted

“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered

“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.

He sighed and shook his head

“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”

“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.

“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”

“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back

“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.

You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.

You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.

“Hey. What’s wrong.”

You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.

“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.

“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed

Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.

“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed

You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:

“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”

Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.

“Hello?”

“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered

“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly

Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.

“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”

You nodded and sobbed.

“Ok…”

Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.

“Come on in.”

You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”

He smiled ear to ear.

“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.

You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.

“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.

You looked at him, smiled and nodded.

“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”

Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”

“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.

“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled

“No really.”

You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.

“Got a bedroom?” You smirked

Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.

His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.

“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.

As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.

He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.

“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.

He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.

“Baby, you ok?”

You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.

“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”

“When’s the last time he touched you?”

“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”

“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”

You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.

“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”

With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.

He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.

“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.

He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.

“Could taste ya all day darling.”

You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.

“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”

He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.

“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.

He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.

“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.

You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.

“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly

“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”

Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.

“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”

You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.

How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?

Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.

“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.

“Yes darling..” he whispered back

“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”

“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged

Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.

“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”

꧁✩★✩꧂

[cryptictongues]

The Sun Lives in His Eyes

pairing: Vincent Valentine x Fem!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 6.9k summary: You try on swimsuits for Vincent, and he doesn't know how to handle it.

warnings: porn with feelings, angst, teasing, lots of dry humping and making out, come tasting, sexual tension

Spoilerwise, I made it so the emotions after the second visit to the Golden Saucer were present but didn't get very specific as to why aside from the keystone and what the stone is needed for (which is in the OG game too). Other than that, this is pretty spoiler free!

Also, just to add, when trying on bathing suits, please for the love of GOD keep your underwear on. Don't let your bare cooch touch it.

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was midday in Costa Del Sol and it was alive as usual. The beach goers were all in their swimsuits, with their beautiful lays and their skin that had been kissed by the sun. The sky was as blue as can be with a slight overcast of clouds. Booths of a multitude of items for sale and fun games that make the atmosphere of the area feel like one big fair. It was a refreshing change of scenery, especially after the last 24 hours.

Traveling back to Costa Del Sol was no easy task, especially when exhaustion, anger, and disappointment have infiltrated the air. With the failure to retrieve the keystone, the direction of the group had faltered. No one had a clue where the Temple of the Ancients was located, and the future seemed bleak. That was until the mysterious man, the one you have grown very attached to, had suggested using the Tiny Bronco’s radio to try and intercept the signal from the Turks to retrieve the coordinates.

Vincent Valentine: the epitome of peculiar. A man, a beast, a creature of mystery. You and everyone else’s first interaction with him being an almost fatal one, for the bestial side of him was quite destructive. He was fairly fast for a creature of his size, strong reflexes, and phenomenal perception. He wasn’t a normal beast, but of course he wasn’t: he was still a human underneath it all. Which is why once he had transformed back into his original form, the brokenness and anguish that appeared on his face was apparent. You remember vividly how he had looked directly at you, stunning you in your place as you wondered what you had done to receive such a stare. 

You never thought you’d make contact with those eyes again with his lack of interest in coming along. So, it was a surprise to see him hop on the Tiny Bronco, explaining the sins he must atone for. It made sense, but a weird part of you sensed that it wasn’t the full truth, especially when he kept looking your way during his tiny monologue. It stirred something within you, having never felt an intensity such as his before. All in all, however, he was a quiet one, kept to himself, and very much an observer. 

A very, very good observer. 

Something that drew you to each other was neither of you were talkers. You’ve always been the reserved one of the group, not minding wandering around on your own while the others stayed together. The introvert in you enjoys the peace and quiet when able to have it, even though you love your found family. You assumed Vincent relates in some way because after the arrival to Costa Del Sol the first time, he has lingered by your side ever since. You didn’t mind the company, especially when there was a silent mutual understanding between you two.

What you did mind, however, was how utterly insane he’d make you feel. You don’t know if it’s all in your head, but day by day you swear he is advancing his way into your heart and loins. It started with simple glances that led to subtle grazes of his covered fingers on your exposed ones. The intimate moments have gradually increased, which have haunted your dreams in the most intimate of ways.

Back at the Golden Saucer, you and Vincent had been off on your own together. You both had stayed in the Queen’s Blood gaming area for a while, playing stacked games since you both were considered pros amongst most people. It was the last round, and you had a slight lead. You were waiting for him to take his turn, watching him contemplate his hand. You were hoping, praying even, that he didn’t see how you had set yourself up to win. 

But of course, he had seen right through it. Once he plucked the card he wanted to use from his deck, you already knew it’s game over. You had let out a groan before he could put it down and the look in his eyes shifted as quickly as they had shifted back in amusement.

“You don’t even know what I am playing.”

“I can take a wild guess.”

“Hmm, is that so?” He had hummed, leaning in as close as he could without his body messing up the board. He had held his card between two of his left fingers, dangling the damn thing in front of you. “If you guess the specific card I’m about to play correctly, you win.”

You were in shock as he was one to never willingly gamble his wins. In your dysfunctional brain, you had thought about all of the cards he had in his possession. Vincent’s biggest asset as a player was knowing how to use his cards, often using ones that didn’t seem to do much on the surface. You had thought long and hard, debating between which cards he could have considered, before deciding there was only one that made the most sense.

“Grandhorn.”

Vincent chuckled, putting his card down, and low and behold the Grandhorn appeared. It boosted his score a point above yours, but it hadn’t mattered. You had won.

“So, I guess I won since I guessed correctly?”

“I suppose so, but I expected nothing less.” He had leaned in once more, a glimmer in his eyes as he looked you dead on. “Smart girl.”

The way he had said it had made your insides curl with delight. Having someone like him be so teasing and flirty in his own way with you had you flushed, and you knew he noticed. Before he had said anything to send you into another flushing fit, you had quickly gotten up and told him exactly what you wanted to do next.

You had dragged him over to the G-Bike game, insisting to play as you’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle, even if it’s just in simulation form. However, within 30 minutes, you were flinging yourself left to right with frustration with the lack of ability to get at least a one-star rating. It wasn’t until you had felt a weight behind you, recognizable leather clad arms wrapping over yours, did you realize how fucked you really were. His body was pressed right against you with every limb touching your own. His fingers had curled over yours and his breath was brushing against the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“ Give me the glasses ,” he murmured.

“Let me take you for a ride.”

Needless to say, you had to excuse yourself. You had felt a tinge of embarrassment at how you reacted, but it was quickly stomped out by how much you needed to relieve yourself. You had felt bad leaving Vincent alone to wander a place that was outside of what he was acclimated to, but the hormonal teen in your brain was screaming at you to do something. 

You had been thankful that everyone was out doing their thing because the minute the hotel door was shut, you were on your bed with your hand down your pants. All you could think about was how good he felt against you. He was warm and you could feel everything; from the buckles, to the leather creases, to the outline of his long cock you felt pressed against your backside. With every twist and turn, your bodies would shift, and it created a friction so teasing that you couldn’t have helped but whimpered.

You had thought about his groans when you would accidentally push back on him. The sound had vibrated on your skin, proving how close his mouth was to your neck. You remembered how his cock twitched against you. Those thoughts had only made you rub your weeping cunt more, leading to more devious ones. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had just kept grinding on him. Would he have lost control? Would he have been as flushed as you had been 30 minutes prior? Picturing images of him flushed below you as you worked each other up had sent you spiraling into release, biting your arm so as to not cause any alarm. 

You had a hard time looking at him the next day without your mind wandering to something sinful. Things have toned down since due to the interruption of plans, but his gazes have stayed firm. You could always feel the stare of his eyes burning into you, and it never failed to make you squirm and plunder. 

Presently, all of you were on the dock, discussing the coordinates Vincent had found over the radio. A game plan was being formed, an agreement that the rest of the day should be one of rest and preparation before the journey tomorrow. The party started to disperse, some with tasks like gathering supplies and booking rooms for the night. You were left to your own devices, debating on what you wanted to do to pass the time. You look out onto the water, and you don’t know if it is the heat or the exhaustion in your muscles, but going for a swim sounded absolutely divine. 

You heard the metal clanking of Vincent’s shoes behind you, making you turn around to greet him. The thoughts back at the saucer were begging to be reminded but you pushed them back, not sure if you would survive those them with him in front of you. He greets you with a hum, hovering very close to you to the point you have to look up at him. Damn, he is so tall!

Clearing your throat, you greet him back with your thumbs twiddling with each other nervously. “So, is there anything you want to do today?”

“That is entirely up to you. Wherever you’d like to go, I’ll follow.” 

Your breath starts to shutter, but you cough to cover it up. You didn’t want to make it obvious how much he is affecting you right now, even though you are sure it didn’t matter what you did. He always knew. 

“Well, this may sound crazy, but I kind of want to go swimming.”

“Oh?” His head tilts, eyes amused.

“Y-yeah, but I know you cannot be comfortable in this heat. I wouldn’t want to keep you in it.” 

“I can manage.”

You laugh because of course he can. “If you say so, but I will need to get a swimsuit. You don’t mind coming with me to buy one, do you?”

He shakes his head, moving to your side to allow you to lead the way. You both start walking towards the bathing suit booth up ahead and as usual Vincent’s fingers linger by yours. There is no touching, but you can feel them right by you, causing your fingers to twitch. It’s driving you mad, and you are tired of him teasing you to the point of insanity. So out on a whim, confidence boosting, you let your hand grab his metal one. You feel his walk stutter, but he quickly recovers to let the gold claws wrap around your own. 

You lead him to the booth right past the dock and start to look around. There are so many options, and you can feel yourself become a little overwhelmed at your choices. 

“Is everything okay?” Vincent was behind you. You guess he can see the tension in your shoulders as you peruse the different styles.

“I guess I just don’t know what would be best to wear.” You admit. 

The young woman running the booth must have been waiting for an opportunity to sell because the next thing you know she is right in front of you. “Good evening! Would you like some help?”

“Oh, uh…” Before you can utter anymore words, she continues her pitch.

“It is no trouble! I can curate some of our different pieces so you can decide which ones you like best!”

Before you can decline again, she is already ushering you to the changing booth, basically shoving you in. “I’ll be right back with some swimwear!”

You peek out and you can see Vincent about to walk over to the seller, irritation clear on his face. Shit.

“Vincent, come here!”

He turns to you before walking up. As he stops in front of you, you see how much his eyes are flared, burning more red than usual. You aren’t sure how to calm him down, not seeing him like this since the incident at Shinra Manor. You reach out, letting your palm rest against his cheek, hoping that will somehow ease his mind. 

“She shouldn’t have put her hands on you. She is lucky to still be standing on her two feet.”

The protective nature he was exuding was endearing, but also very sexy. You put those thoughts on the backburner, bringing your hand to his neck to stroke the irritation there. 

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I promise it’s okay. I’m okay.” You reassure, squeezing his skin right above his collarbone. “Let me try on what she offers and then we can get out of here.”

“Alright, here are a few pieces I think would go perfectly with your style!” She hands you the pieces, and turns to Vincent, clueless to the absolute annoyance he wanted to convey in that moment. “I apologize, sir, but let’s give your lady friend some privacy.”

You see his eyes flare again, and you quickly shoot your other hand out from behind the curtain to keep him facing you. “It’s okay! He can stay!”

“Well, if you insist! Just no funny business you two!” She winks at you both and walks back to her station. You gulp out of a nervous habit, even though there is no spit to swallow. Is it that obvious that you two have some unspoken thing for one another?

“Okay, um, let me try these on.” You squeeze his arm in reassurance before going back into the changing booth. You close the curtain and lay out the pieces you were working with. You inspected each one, and you came to a horrifying conclusion: these were very revealing swimsuits.

There was nothing wrong with revealing swimwear, in fact you actually quite liked the ones the lady picked for you. However, Vincent was right outside and would see you in one of these. Would it be too much for him to see you so bare? You are very covered up in your usual attire, so this is a complete 180 and leaves little for the imagination.

You decide to try one on anyway, picking the one-piece swimsuit that is all black and has a long v-line cut. You strip away your clothes, and slip the suit on, adjusting it so everything is even. You go to tie the string in the back, but you can already tell it will be a challenge. You try to tie the knot, but you could feel yourself getting frustrated, grunting in aggravation as the tie keeps going undone. 

“Are you okay?” Vincent called from outside, obviously hearing you struggle.

You sigh in defeat, ready for some assistance. “Um, I think I need help tying the string in the back. Can you give me a hand if I come out?” 

You hear him hum in agreement, and you open the curtain and quickly turn your back. “Just the one string please.”

He hums again and gets to work, grabbing the two ends and crisscrossing them before pulling tightly. You hear him shuffle closer to you, and once again his breath is on your ear. “Is that tight enough for you?”

You freeze. He said it so quietly that you wonder if you are hallucinating but you know what you heard. He is teasing you again. He is trying to rile you up like he did at the Golden Saucer. Well, two can play at that game.

“Yes, that is good. Please tie it.” You feel him take a step back, and he ties the strings to ensure they stay together. 

Once you feel his hands pull away, you turn to him to show off your swimsuit. It hugs you in all the right places, quite comfortably, and it covers you aside from the middle of your body. The v-line shows off your chest, covering your breasts and getting narrower until the point stops down at your belly button. You feel sexy and seeing Vincent’s reaction was the cherry on top.

You watch as his eyes take in your form. You see them wander from your chest to your sternum and it is crazy how much the red of his eyes get smaller as his pupils blow wide. His fingers tremble against his side with slight movement in his arms like he wants to reach out for you, but they stay in place. His control is absolutely astonishing. 

“Vincent? Do I look okay?” 

His eyes snap away, coughing in the process like he didn’t just eye fuck you. He rubbed his neck, forcing himself to look anywhere but towards you. “Yes, it looks fine.” 

You release a smirk, feeling almost powerful seeing this man react the way he had. “Okay, well I am going to try the other ones on.”

You go back inside, and giggle quietly to yourself. It felt good to tease him. With how much he teases you, with how much he riles you up, it is his turn to be on the receiving end of torment. You rip off the one piece, and decide to put on one of the two pieces you were given to try. 

The one you decide to put on is a dark red bikini. The top clips on, so you didn’t need assistance this time. You look in the mirror and you notice how much the top pushes out your breasts. The flesh sticks out, making them look so much bigger than they were. You don’t know if Vincent was a boob man or not, but all you can think is you can’t wait to find out.

“Hey Vincent, can you tell me if this looks okay? I’m not sure how I feel about this one.”

You push the curtain open just as he turns to look in your direction, and his look is priceless. You see him take a heeded breath, one hand turning into a fist and the other gripping his side in what appears to be a hard grip. You hold back a smile, not wanting to give hints to your actions, and walk towards him. You are now standing toe to toe with him, looking up at a man who clearly was losing his cool. 

“Vincent, are you okay? You don’t look so good.” You coo, placing two fingers against his pulse point under his chin. He lets out a grunt at the contact, and your mind is reeling at how fast his pulse is going. 

“Vincent, what are yo-”

“I’m fine.” He grunts, taking your hand away from his neck.

You let it drop, and turn around to the booth. “Just one more and we can go, okay? I’ll be quick.”

You don’t give him another glance as you go back in. You fist pump the air in success as giving him a taste of his own medicine was truly a sight to behold. You are ready to go in for the kill with the last one, which is another bikini. However, this one was black with stretchy black laces that wrap around your stomach. This one felt like a good in between from the other two, but you feel this one will affect him the most. You don’t know why, but something about the intricacies of how it covers your body is simply seducing. 

You finish putting it on and you can’t help the excitement you feel. Out of the three, you like the way this one fits you the most. Not only is it comfortable, but it is an absolute confidence booster. It fits your body well and the laces across your waist accentuates it beautifully. Not only was this the swimsuit you would be purchasing, but you are excited to show it off to Vincent for another reaction. 

You rip open the curtain, cutting right to the chase, only to see he is no longer where he once stood. You hop out of the booth, looking around for the spiky black hair and red cloak, only to see him nowhere in sight. 

“You looking for your boyfriend, babes?” 

You turn to see the seller approaching you, the word boyfriend not even registering. You just want to find him.

“Yeah, did you see where he went?”

She nods over to the dock, back where the Tiny Bronco was located. “He went onto the dock. He seemed to be in quite a rush.”

You quickly thank her. You grab your things from the changing booth, and quickly round up the gil for the swimsuit you were wearing. “Thank you, keep the change.”

You run back to the dock and see the Bronco’s door slightly ajar. You push the door open, not wanting to alarm him as you climb on. You see him sitting on the bench in the very back, hands clutching his head and breathing heavy. Alarmed by how he is reacting, you make yourself known and slowly approach where he is sitting.

“Vincent, are you okay?” 

He grunts roughly, fingers visibly clutching his head harder. “You need to get off.”

You contemplated your next move. You could listen and get off, let him calm himself down. But then you think what if he can’t calm down? What if his mind spirals from his thoughts? Would you leaving really make things better or worse?

You think back to the time when you first met him, how defeated he looked after he had transformed back. How he had stared you down, taking your breath away at how utterly disheveled and beautiful he looked. He had been alone for so long, and that thought turned your rational mind off. You weren’t going to run. He needed you. 

“Vincent, I am not going anywhere.”

His head shoots up, his eyes crimson and face scrunched up like he was holding himself back. He notices your final change of the evening and the growl he lets out is feral. “You,” he snarls, “better not take a single step more.”

You stop again, realization hitting you like a freight train. Did I do this? Did I go too far? 

“Did I do something to upset you?” You ask quietly, afraid of what his response was going to be. “If I did, I am so sorry.”

He doesn’t respond, still looking to the ground although his breathing has subsided slightly. You approach him again, this time making it so you were only a foot away. 

“You don’t want this.” He mutters. 

“What do you mean?”

“I am a monster. The baggage I bring with me, the absolute madness that stirs from within. I don’t know if I can control myself, and that scares me, which means it will scare you.”

You can’t understand what he is saying. “You don’t scare me, Vincent. You could never scare me.”

He grunts out a laugh, like he doesn’t believe a word out of your mouth. “You don’t understand what primal thoughts are going through my mind right now.”

“Well, try me.” You reach out for his face, wanting to touch him, but his right hand grabs your wrist. 

“You don’t know what you want, so stop this.”

You feel like you could cry. The whiplash you are receiving after he has gotten under your skin only to rip himself away is too much. How dare he make your blood run hot and then make it go cold in an instant? You rip your arm away, taking a step back. Your gaze falls to the Bronco’s floor, feeling stupid at your attempt to draw him in. Your arms wrap around your body, sequestering it away from his gaze. 

“You don’t know what I want, so stop putting words into my mouth.” You choke out. Your fists are clenching on your tummy, anger starting to bubble to the surface. “I know you know how I feel about you because you wouldn’t continue to rile me up the way you do if you didn’t. I wouldn’t react the way I do if I didn’t. Truthfully, I love it. So don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know what I want.”

Everything goes quiet. The only thing that can be heard is the heavy breathing on both of your ends. Your anger disappears and is replaced with disappointment. You don’t know if there is any way to convince him, and you aren’t going to be made a fool in the process.

“I know what I want.” You say softly. “I have desires too.” 

It all happens so quickly, your body jolting forward until you are straddling his lap. You gasp, immediately feeling his hard on against your own clothed slit. He’s bigger than I thought, you think, for a man so skinny and sculpted . Two golden claws tilt your chin up, forcing you to be face to face with him. He is much taller than you, so he is slightly over you as he closes in. His breath fans over your lips, eyes erratic and glazed.

You let out a shaky sigh, letting your hands travel up to his face, cupping his cheeks gently as if to let him know what he wants to do is okay. “Do it. Show me you want me too.”

Lips press against yours instantly. It’s intense and intimate with the way he still has a hold on your chin and the way his free arm wraps around your waist to keep you grounded against him. You don’t know if it is the way he has you pressed to him or the way he surrounds your senses, but you feel calm. Even with the aggressive nature of his kisses, it is like he has seeped under your skin, a venomous serum to calm his prey down before he devours. You want more. You need more.

Your hands travel up past his temples to the back of his head, curling your fingers around his black locks. You pull delicately, not knowing how keen he was on pain, only to hear the most delicious whine leave his mouth into yours. You take the opportunity to let your tongue touch his, already becoming addicted to the way he tastes. His grip got tighter on you, trying to pull you in closer even if it wasn’t possible. There was an urgency in his actions as if what you two were doing was too much yet not enough. 

His erection was starting to react more and more against you. You could feel yourself growing restless with the need for some sort of contact. You work to shift your knees slightly, spreading them out more across the bench, and start to grind against the shape of his length. 

A growl from the deepest part of his throat rips out into the open. The claws of his gauntlet let go of your chin and latch to your hip. You stop your movements, thinking he was going to stop you, but he does no such thing. He pushes you down further onto his crotch, moving you himself to urge you to keep going. You follow his movements, letting him guide you back and forth on his cock. All you can think about is how large he is, and how good he feels against your pussy. However, it still isn’t enough. 

You move a hand down to your bottoms, sliding the part covering your heat to the side to get more friction. You can’t help the moan that leaves you the second your clit rubs against the leather of his pants, the roughness different from that of the silk. You move your hips faster, not skipping a beat as to chase a release. 

“That’s it,” Vincent growls against your lips. “Just like that.”

His encouragement sends dopamine right to your brain, giving your hips a mind of their own as you continue to rut against him. Your hips start to tire, becoming noticeable as your knees give out slightly before you readjust. Your mind begs you to keep going, begging to keep your pace so you can reach any type of peak. 

Your knees collapse again, and next thing you know your knees are no longer on the bench but spread far apart by Vincent’s thighs. His garbed hands are on your ass to keep you right where he wants you, and with the motion of his own hips he is rocking up into you slowly with firm pressure. You release his lips, your head resting on his shoulder as he grinds up into your cunt.

“Fuck, Vincent,” you drawl out, gripping his hair tighter with the hand still there, your other hand finding purchase on his shoulder. 

Vincent was having none of that, his right hand shoots to your head to pull it back to face him. What you see invigorates you, as Vincent’s eyes no longer had a red presense. They were the color of the light of day before dusk. The whites of his eyes were illuminated, and his canines had elongated drastically. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Vincent hisses. “Do you still want this?”

The self-pity in his eyes was becoming, and you weren’t having any of that. You were not about to have the man, who is making you go crazy by just nuzzling his long cock into your nethers, get distressed by disillusions. Your left hand drops from his head, dipping down where both of your crotches meet. The tips of your fingers dip into your dripping cunt, the evidence clear as day on his leathers. But if you must show extra proof, you will.

You stuff two of your fingers into your hole, still making eye contact with his yellow orbs as you let your face contort. Your fingers come out covered in your sticky fluid, translucent webbing formed in between your fingers. You bring it between your faces, your eyes bold and lips curling devilishly. “Does this answer your question?”

You don’t know what possessed you, but you let those fingers touch his lips. You pull his lower lip down, seeing if he would let his tongue travel out for a taste. You hum approvingly when he lets the tip give a small lick, and moan all together when he starts to lick them clean. Seeing Vincent obey such a small, unspoken command was the sexiest thing you have witnessed to date, and it makes you want to push him even more. 

You pull your fingers away, causing him to follow them to continue getting his fill. “Look at you,” you purr. “Like a kitten begging for milk.”

“You are one to talk.” He grumbles, thrusting his hips up so it rubs right against your clit. “You’re the one rubbing your bare cunt against me.”

A high-pitched moan wrangles from your throat as he bounced you up and down, followed by a sex drunken laugh. “Why don’t we change that?”

You push his chest so he is leaning way back on the bench, allowing you to steady yourself as you unbuckle his belts. As soon as you open his fly, his bulge pushes outward and you can hear the sigh of relief leave his lungs. Your hands dip into his underwear, pulling the elastic down to release his cock fully. His cock springs up, precum drooling from his swollen head. Your hand wraps around the tip, squeezing to see another pearl form. Your thumb sweeps over it, gathering as much as you can, before bringing it up to your mouth with the need to taste him.

If Vincent’s eyes could glow brighter, they would have blinded you with the way he was watching you. You let your thumb pop out of your mouth, letting some spit travel down your hand before rubbing it over his cock. You readjust once more, angling your hips so your clit would connect with his tip with each roll, and sit right back onto his lap. You both cry out in unison, both of you sensitive and in dire need of release. You crash your lips against his as you roll your hips in a slow, yet firm rhythm. Your hands grip at his hair, loving the way he ruts into you when you pull on it. You don’t hold back, too far gone to tease the daylights out of him, moaning into his mouth every time the head of his cock kisses your bud. 

Vincent wasn’t faring any better, his volume only increasing at the friction. He releases your lips, his head falling onto your shoulder with a long groan. You feel tiny prickles against your skin, his fangs grazing it as he kisses and sucks on your flesh. His hands go over the strings of your swimsuit, gripping the skin of your waist to pull you closer.

His mouth proceeds up your shoulder to your jaw, nipping your pulse point before licking it. The difference between the movement of his hips and his lips is drastic. His lips move slowly, caressing the skin after every love bite he gives you like you are delicate, while his hips buck into you with conviction. It is like he doesn’t know whether he wants to cherish you, or prove to you how much of a monster he can be. 

Both of your essences are mixing as you continue, creating easier movement and a more heavenly feeling. You can feel yourself getting close to your release, hips flying back and forth trying to grasp onto it. It isn’t until your hips give out, a frustrated whine leaving you as the peak downtrails.

“Don’t you dare give up on me.” Vincent orders into your ear. 

“Fuck, I can’t,” you sob, the ache in your hips and knees showing as you start to slow down.

You don’t fully comprehend what happens next, not until you feel the cold metal of the Bronco’s floor on your back. Vincent yanks your bottoms down your legs, exposing all you have to offer to him. He is on you, hunched over you as he thrusts against your fully exposed cunt. You can’t help but shove your head into the crevice of his neck, wailing at how fast he is going. You are surprised he hasn’t accidentally slipped in with how wet you are, the sounds coming from your nethers making that more apparent. 

“I am so close, fuck!” You whimper. You are on the cusp. You needed something. Just a little push to put you over.  “Please, please, please, Vincent! I need it so bad! I need you!”

You feel his fangs against your shoulder, nipping and licking the same spot over and over again. A warm sensation fills you, not registering it until the piercing pain of his incisors sink into your skin. It hurts so good, the combination of pain and pleasure shooting through your system. It sets the tone for your release, causing you to scream into his shoulder. It is electrifying, ecstasy filling in the gaps as your orgasm rolls in waves. Vincent wasn’t far behind, and something about your blood must have sent him into a frenzy. His hips are going inhumanly quick, and after a few more thrusts he ejects his fangs from your body as he cums.

His moans echoing into your ear has you gripping onto him harder, comforting him as he rides out his high. Fingers stroke the hairs on the back of his neck, hushing him soothingly as his body shakes. It isn’t long after he starts groaning, his grip tightening on your thighs. 

“Are you okay?” You ask worried, lifting his head so you can get a good look at him. But what you see stirs something from deep within your chest.

You don’t know if it’s because golden hour has reached its peak, but he looks ethereal. His fangs were no more, but there was blood that has stained his mouth. The beams of golden light reflect off of him, his pale skin shining from the light perspiration on his face. He looks so beautiful in the sun’s rays, like an angel wrapped in light. His eyes slowly open, and a soft gasp leaves your lips. His eyes were no longer illuminating yellow. His eyes, the vibrancy of them, have transformed into the sun. Their usual molten color is bright like the sun's surface. His usual orange rings that surround his pupil are golden, and you can see your reflection in the deep black.

He takes a minute to gather himself before nodding, a sigh passing through his lips before sitting up on his knees. You peer down to your lower half, which is now covered in his seed and your own mess. Vincent’s eyes are glued to your mound, his cum having pooled there from his heavy release. After a moment, he takes his leather glove off his right hand, skin pale and blue from the veins protruding. His fingers dip into his cooled cum, letting it collect on his fingers before pulling his hand away. 

“Vincent, what are yo-” you start before you watch him bring his fingers towards your lips. He lets them hover, waiting to see if you would be as keen to sampling him again like he did with you. 

A light chuckle leaves your lips. He is just full of surprises.

You sit up on your elbows, your mouth pressing light kisses to his fingers before indulging. Your eyes flutter close, a quiet moan rumbling from your chest as take in his taste for a second time. He tastes neutral, nothing too bitter or too musky. It tastes exactly as you expected. Because it was him, he tasted absolutely delectable. And you can’t get enough.

“Look at you,” Vincent mimics your tone from earlier, smirking in the process. “Like a kitten begging for milk.”

His fingers leave your mouth, making you chase after them until he kisses you suddenly. The iron attacks your senses pleasantly, and his humming tells you that his seed is having the same effect on him. You both stay there for a while, just kissing in each other’s mess, and before you know it the sky has turned into its orange hue before the nightfall. 

You decide to pull away first, bringing your hands to his face to soothe the sweat dried skin. “I don’t want this to end, but we should get going. The others may be wondering where we wandered off to.”

He hums slowly, like he was debating whether he cared or not, but ultimately decided to sit fully up. He puts his cock back into his leathers, getting himself situated before he helps you stand up properly. Your body doesn’t feel real from how drained your muscles are, and you think he can tell by the way he guides your hands to his shoulders. He brings your bottoms over to your legs, and urges you to put your feet through the openings. Using his shoulders as leverage, you do as he silently instructs and he pulls them up until you are covered. You look down and see the cum has dried on your skin, and the thought of anyone possibly seeing it makes your cheeks burn, knowing you’d never live it down. 

“Do you think anyone will notice?”

Instantly, like he was already planning to do this, he undid the buckles of his cape and wrapped it around your shoulders. With him being such a broad and tall man, his cape covered you very well and hid the evidence of your coupling.

“It gets cool during nightfall. It won’t be suspicious.”

“But what about your pants? There is cum on them too.”

“Truthfully, I don’t care.”

You pull the cape closer to you, inhaling and exhaling his scent, filling your brain with a sense of safety. Vincent believed he wasn’t deserving of you, that he was a danger to you and others. But when you feel such a sense of security with him, how can he not see that you need him?

He finishes putting his glove back on, flexing his fingers before he goes to open the door of the Bronco. Your brain reacts first, hand grabbing his arm before he could expose you both to the outside world. You needed to know something. You needed to know if he still feels how he felt earlier.

“Vincent, can I ask you something?”

He turns to you, curiosity peaking. He places his golden fingers over the hand gripping his arm, signaling for you to ask your question.

“You don’t regret what just happened, do you? I’m not going to wake up like it was yesterday, am I?” 

There is silence, and you mentally hit yourself for the lack of confidence, your voice having dropped to a whisper. Your head drops again, worried about what was about to not be said, before you feel a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“There is nothing to regret,” he murmurs. “Especially when it comes to you.”

You lift your head up, eyes meeting his, before letting a smile form on your face. His facial features match your own, and he brings you in for a sweet kiss before you two return to the others. You don’t think about them though, because all you can think is that he let you in.

He willingly let you in.

[imyourbratzdoll]

May i request a fic with a plus size reader and beefy beefy ari.

back story :So tr has always been made fun of because of their weight so as tr got older they got self conscious about their body.

One day the reader was sitting on like the couch and ari had dropped his phone under and he need to move the couch to grab it so he didn’t and while he was pushing it tr thought it sounded like he was struggling punching the couch because they were on it. (you can add more to this part or whatever you’d like suga) so as the week go one tr always hurry to like move when are drops stuff under couches or they always refuse ari to push their chair in or stuff like picking them up to grab something off the counter. ari start to realize and confront tr , tr tell ari and maybe add smut or soft smut or cuddling up to you.

( this was kinda just like the spine of the request you can added anything or remove anything. ps ily and you blog 😘🫶🏼)

hey baby, I love you too! I hope you like this. this is my second plus size fic, I hope I did a good job at it, and also, remember you are all beautiful, no matter what size, shape, look, etc.

summary - you become self-conscious after your boyfriend does something, causing him to let you know how much he loves you.

warning - angst, self-doubt, body shaming.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You didn’t know how the day would turn out. When your boyfriend dropped his phone, you had thought he’d ask you to move or get on his hands and knees to try and get it. You weren’t expecting him to lift the whole couch with you still on it, and tears are brought to your eyes as he grunts. You would’ve moved if he had asked. You didn’t want to cause him harm. When Ari gently drops the couch to the ground, he tucks his phone into his pants and smiles at you softly. His hand comes up, and he brushes his hair back, sits next to you and gets a movie ready.

Days went by, and every time Ari would try and move something that you were on top of or push you in. You’d quickly jump up and move out of his way or pull the seat in yourself. You knew you were pushing it when Ari asked you on a date and then asked you to be his girlfriend. Ari was out of your league. You knew it. Everyone knew it. It was only a matter of time before he realised he could get someone better, someone thinner. You didn’t miss how his coworkers hung off of him and how he didn’t push them away, or the women that lived on your street, or any female in the world that you came across. They all looked at you like you were a problem, wondering how someone like him could want someone like you.

You had begun to pull away from Ari, hiding your body more, not wanting to get in his way or become a burden. Now, Ari wasn’t small. He was practically a giant, and he was bigger than you. But still, you were sure he would benefit from having someone better than you, someone who could do the things he does without having to feel self-conscious or hide their body. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Ari starting to put the pieces together and realise something was wrong. He watched you, catching that you had been covering up more, distancing yourself from him. 

Ari walks over, clearing his throat. “Baby, why are you avoiding me?” You wouldn’t expect a man his size to have the saddest eyes or the softest expression as he stares down at you. He missed when you’d let him hold you, missed you.

You blink and squirm in your seat. Opening and closing your mouth as you try and come up with an explanation, not expecting Ari to notice, but then again. Ari was very observant and caring, and he wouldn’t let you be upset by yourself. “I, uh… I just don’t want to be a burden… Especially when it comes to you lifting things or pushing things in while I’m on it.” You squeak as Ari tackles you into the couch, gripping your face in his hands.

“Baby, you know I don’t care about your weight, and you aren’t even heavy! I’m guessing you’re referring to the day I lifted the couch to grab my phone?” You nod, trying to avoid his eyes until he squeezes your cheeks. “I didn’t grunt because you were on it. I grunted 'cause I saw up your dress while I was doing it and realised I had to be careful not to drop the damn thing.” You stare at him with wide eyes. “That’s not the only thing, is it? There’s more.” 

You whimper, feeling tears form as you shake your head. “I–I… Why are you with me, Ari? Why me and not the women who want you? I’ve seen how you enjoy their attention. Why me?” Ari can feel his heartbreak and tears well in his eyes at your words, wondering what he had done wrong for you to think that. 

“Oh, baby.” He buries his face into your neck, holding you close. “You’re so special, so much better than any other woman. I barely pay attention to them, trust me. My mind is always on you. I love you too much to want someone else.” He presses a bruising kiss to your lips, a few tears slipping.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[vidavalor]

Just on the back of your last post about how Aziraphale and Crowley have been a couple for (literal) ages, of which you have me thoroughly convinced, there's one thing I've never been able to figure out.

In 1941, when Crowley saves the books, what are we seeing from Aziraphale? By this point he knows damned 😉 well that Crowley adores him, so I very much doubt the 'this is when Aziraphale realised his love was returned' theory. Is it to do with their holy water fight?

Apologies if you've covered this already but I've read through your master post and most of your previous posts and couldn't find anything. I keep musing on it and thinking 'oh Vidavalor will know but I shouldn't bother them'!

Ground Control to Mr. Tom! 😊 Hi there. 💕 You are correct that I haven't done a post about this, which feels very much like my all-over-the-place blog, because this is one of the most-discussed scenes in the show. 😂 You are absolutely not a bother! Do not speak such silliness. I'm going to explain my take on that scene with some help from The Archangel Fucking Gabriel. Therefore, there is hot chocolate, should you want a mug.😊

This is also going to be my contribution to the Azirafeast celebrations so I wish any of you reading this many scrumptious returns!

Below the cut is the one in which someone who thinks Crowley and Aziraphale have been lovers since ancient Rome offers an opinion on what's going on with Aziraphale and the books in 1941... by way of a look at what we might be able to learn about this moment from its sister moment in Gabriel & Beez's flashback.

Be them real people or fictional ones, angels-- especially our two, main ones on Good Omens-- are not accustomed to feeling seen.

This is largely because they believe they exist to sacrifice themselves for the protection and betterment of others... that this is literally what they were made by God to do... or at least what they've been told God wants them to do... and, as we know, they've got plenty of questions over all of that.

They can often feel guilty about their consumption of resources-- or their curiosity about doing so in different ways-- when they've been told that those resources and the experiences that come with them are not for them, even if all evidence seems to suggest that might not really be the case.

They are told they are supposed to live small lives of sacrifice and are, as a result, full of conflicts about their hungers, their needs, their desires... about their love, and the want of a free life of their own.

They exhibit perfectionist behaviors, are full of self-criticism, and are excessively self-sacrificing.

Intellectually, they know they are a person with wants and needs like everyone else but they've been taught that they are supposed to be above all of that and breaking free of that abuse comes with negative self-thoughts, anxiety, depression, and a whole slew of other fun struggles.

That attempted thought control and oppression of people that is responsible for these angels' inner torment, though? As The Supreme Archangel aptly puts it while having a total breakdown shown by chasing his metaphorical self (The Fly) around the bookshop and trying to kill it with a Bible...

...it never works.

It might, unfortunately, get some people but it never, ultimately, works in society as a whole for very long because people want to live. People are made to live. They will seek out coffee over death and rebel against any society that seeks to oppress them in whatever way that they can. Eventually, angels who want to break free will find different ways of letting themselves be individuals on their own terms, even as they are still full of conflict about it, as we've seen Aziraphale and Gabriel do throughout the story.

They'll express themselves in different ways but with the same sense of desperation to have something of their own as a way of admitting that they are a person, too.

Maybe, one night, an angel will, say, allow himself to indulge his hungers by eating an entire ox... maybe in front of the demon he'd like to consume with just as much enthusiasm. Maybe those hungers become ones that, despite his inner conflicts that lead to periodic episodes of depression and fasting, this angel will allow himself to otherwise regularly satiate, and in which he finds enjoyment, nourishment, connection and peace, that he would not have otherwise found.

Maybe, on another night, a different angel will let himself slip away from Heaven and return having consumed resources for himself, in the form of a tailor-made suit that serves as proof to himself that he isn't just a symbol but an individual person in his own right. Maybe it gives him a connection to his body that also leads to him jogging and exploring more of the world. Maybe he allows himself the freedom of owning what he can of his own body and own appearance because control over these things have otherwise been taken from him in the process of denying his personhood and making him more of a symbol to be venerated.

While these are good examples of these two angels finding different but similar, healthy paths to recognizing themselves as people, it's one thing to recognize yourself but another thing for someone else to recognize you.

Angels are wonderful at taking care of everyone else but they sometimes have a blind spot when it comes to their own needs and safety. They are so busy taking care of everyone else that they are prone to making mistakes with their own care.

Such as this angel below being so pleased with an opportunity to contribute to the war effort that he missed that he'd accidentally let himself be recruited by the wrong side...

...and needing his partner to identify some Nazis and redirect some bombs to keep him from being discorporated...

...and such as this other angel below being pleased with his ability to show care towards his new partner...

...but also, as we can see by the expression in his reaction to Beez's suggestion above, so unused to being cared for that, even if he was intellectually aware of it, the aspect of partnership involving mutual care was so foreign to him that it threw him for a bit of a loop.

Sometimes, an angel will be going through a period of struggle when it comes to their interactions with the world. It's often times not even just the feeling that they should just be advisors more than active participants and that the world is not for them. They are, in these moments, just imposter syndrome run amok, and that robs them of pursuing that which makes them feel happy and fulfilled.

Loving an angel in this mode requires gentle, genuine, affirming care:

The imposter syndrome modes can strike at any time for angels but tend to do so especially when they've very recently tried to engage with the world in a big way and saw it backfire.

Like when they spend a lot of time trying to sort out their place in the world and regularly go back and forth between being so influential that they personally own and have developed an entire city neighborhood but also then have days when they don't want to open their own bookshop to the world.

Like when they are supposed to be an angel and nothing else but, if they could choose a vocation, they'd be doing card tricks and pulling rabbits out of hats at birthday parties for all of eternity, and they feel so massively guilty about it that they tell themselves that the magic shop is not a place for them.

But maybe never more than like when there is a war on... an absolutely massive, global war... the first atomic war, the war that could bring about Armageddon, for all the angel knows... and everyone in the human world is trying to do their bit as best they can and, one day, a young woman claiming to be British intelligence knocks on the door and says that they need the angel-- this particular angel and only him... this angel who sometimes feels like he doesn't always know how best to help but wants nothing more than to be good and do good and help others.

The Allied Forces needs Mr. Fell for an intelligence mission to help thwart the Nazis and work towards stopping the war. And what do they need from this angel, in particular?

They need his books.

Aziraphale collects books of all kinds but he has two major personal collections that are highlighted in the story. One is humorous and self-aware-- a collection of misprinted Bibles. Those are living proof of the fallacy of language and gospel-- of the bullshit of people. They are comforting to him in their existence, as they reinforce his sense that following what others say is the word of God is not really a better path than following his own moral compass. The Allied Forces don't need these books, though.

They need the other ones that Aziraphale has been collecting forever:

His books of prophecy.

This angel collects written works by humans that profess to be prophetic. He has original works of Nostradamus and Mother Shipton and many others. He has preserved them throughout centuries, keeping them safe in his care, even if the works are, largely, complete and utter balderdash. He has kept these books, nutty as they are, safe from damage and in existence, for years, just in the event that maybe these humans, in some way, really did have answers as to the future of the world in which the angel lives, too.

The one that he knows has been slated to be destroyed around 6,000 years from its inception-- a date that was approaching closer with each breath in 1941.

Was it really going to happen? Was there a way to stop it? Aziraphale has been trying to see if maybe the humans have found a way, studying their prophetic works for centuries upon centuries, anxiously looking for clues on how to stop Armageddon and save the world he loves...

...and also therefore be able, as a result, to stay on Earth with the person he loves and not be separated from him for eternity.

It's these books of this angel-- these beloved, material possessions; these perfect examples of everything that he's been told that he's not supposed to have-- that Captain Rose Montgomery of British Intelligence says that he can provide to entrap some Nazis and help save the world for his fellow humans and his partner.

An angel's biggest blind spot is always wanting to help and never feeling like they're doing enough. They're vulnerable to trusting the wrong people for the right reasons. Their desperation to do good and be good in the face of feeling like they're not a good person at all can cause them to have the best of intentions but be open to manipulation by those with the worst of ones.

Sometimes, it's a human Nazi. Sometimes, it's a supernatural one...

...same difference. Both dangerous. Both examples of an area where an angel might not survive if they don't let in a trusted person who can give to them the same love and care they give to everyone else.

The fallout from making a mistake can be devastating to an angel.

They feel embarrassed and snappish-- the anger and frustration related to the miscalculated situation triggering (and masking) the anxiety and depression to which angels are hardly strangers.

They can retreat into self-doubt. Moments of bravery when it comes to trying again are sometimes just as quickly diluted by their compounding insecurity and the fear that they are just jiggery-pokery and do not belong in the world.

This is when they need their demons the most.

Demons? They are fallen angels.

They know all this about angels because they're not much different themselves.

They have had the experience of having to redefine themselves in the face of being told by their societies that they were no longer angels and, in some ways, that has freed the more introspective demons to have enough perspective to offer counsel to willing angels as to how to manage those conflicts.

These demons, like Crowley and Beez, are uniquely well-suited to loving angels because they have also been through these same conflicts-- and still struggle with many of them.

These demons have experienced violence and violation as a result their angelic conflicts. They are drawn towards the inherent goodness of their angels, who approach them with kindness, respect, and a sense of equality to which the demons are not accustomed but which helps to build trust.

Just as these demons seek to protect these angels from harm that might befall them in the future, the angels we're discussing are both mindful of their partners' pasts and take care to help them feel safe. They are emphatic about their partners' comfort, reinforce their expectations of a partnership involving free choice and equality, and continually make clear that they consider-- and will always consider-- explicit, enthusiastic consent essential.

Their demons' knowledge of the darker aspects of the world also make them uniquely aware of the risks to their angels and they seek to protect them from experiencing the same pain they have felt from trusting the wrong faces. They do everything they can to keep their angels from falling-- literally, as in from Heaven, or more figuratively, as into despair.

They give them music and food and companionship... they open up the world for the angels and help them live life with the other people in the pub, literally and metaphorically. They explore the human world with them and make them feel less alone, letting the angels do the same for them.

Loving an angel is first seeing that angel there and acknowledging their humanity. It's affirming their imperfection as being just part of personhood and holding up that personhood as being worthy of love. It is reflecting back to the angels the same empathy, openness, and lack of judgement as what the angels give to them.

It's seeing that the angel who wrestles with living up to the expectations of the statues in his honor and the titles for which he never asked is, really, an imperfect, good-hearted, kind person beneath his snarky, sharp-edged exterior. It's seeing the depression that clouds his eyes and the fine edges he's walking in Heaven and knowing what comes next more than maybe can see in the moment and protecting him, as best as someone can, from the fallout of those actions.

Beez knows what it is to fall. They see Gabriel already in a downward motion in every way there is and knows that it comes with risk of losing himself, the way that they once did themselves. They dump out the matchsticks because the good kind of fire is already lit between them and the fire of Hell is not for their angel. They gift him a fly-- that which is made from their body. They are Gabriel's container. He is safe by putting all of himself, literally and figuratively, into Beez.

While this is a big moment in the Ineffable Bureaucracy parallel and one that also parallels the holy water, Gabriel's response to it is a mirror to Aziraphale's response to Crowley saving the books in 1941. What can Gabriel maybe tell us about what Aziraphale was feeling then, through what is similar and what is different about these two moments?

For starters, Gabriel and Beez knew how they felt about one another before The Fly. They already had shared that through "Everyday". The Fly is not an "oh" moment for Gabriel, in the sense that it wasn't a sudden revelation of either Beez's love or of his own. If anything, he and Beez never really had an "oh" moment in that sense of one because elements of how they both felt were always just understood and present in their interactions.

This is honestly true of a lot of relationships. A lot of "oh" moments are not so much becoming aware of having feelings for someone but are just being hit with a new aspect of love that both/all parties is/are already aware is in existence, even if it hasn't always yet been fully spoken.

In S1, we see that Gabriel and Beez only let their guard down around one another. They have always been as close to friends as they could be in their positions. They already care about one another when we first see them together and then, in S2, Gabriel is completely unsurprised at Beez's flirting with him moments into the first date-- and Beez had no hesitation in doing so, suggesting that they likely have before.

Their attraction to one another is presented as an existing given between them from the very start of their flashback sequence. There's no "oh" over The Fly or anything else because they just know. They start to give words and actions to it as they fall deeper in love throughout the scenes but there's never any doubt that they both have been long-aware of what exists between them.

If anything, Ineffable Bureaucracy is probably the real, millennia-long pining relationship in Good Omens, as while they had all these very good foundations for a romantic relationship, they didn't really begin to pursue one until between S1 and S2.

Gabriel's response to The Fly parallels Aziraphale's response to Crowley saving the books in 1941, even if the contrasting part of the parallel is that both are responses to gestures made by these demons for their angels in very different stages of these relationships.

For Gabriel, The Fly is an "oh" moment-- but not one that is about a new revelation related to love existing. It's about what is, for him, a heartbreakingly new experience:

It's not that Gabriel doesn't already know how he and Beez both feel about one another because already he does by this point. Gabriel isn't having a realization of the existence of his love or of Beez's love when Beez gives him The Fly; he's having a realization that this is what it feels like to be loved.

And what is feeling loved, to an angel?

It's being and feeling truly seen.

It's someone noticing them and coming along to care for them while they're out there, trying to save the world when they're sometimes not sure they can even save themselves. It's someone seeing that in them and not seeing anything worth berating them about the way that they berate themselves but, instead, seeing a person worthy of their love and protection.

Loving an angel is giving them the same kindness and care that they give to the world but that they often deny themselves.

For Gabriel, that night in The Resurrectionist was the first time that anyone had ever done something like that for him. It wasn't an "oh" of I'm in love because he already knew that and that Beez felt the same way. It was an "oh", though, of falling deeper in love. It was an "oh" of feeling love.

Beez had already done kind things for him before they gave him The Fly but The Fly and its matchbox are the first ever physical things Gabriel has been given by someone. He has never had any possessions besides his clothes before. He's never been given a gift.

He and Beez go to bars and pubs on their dates; they're surrounded by humans with songs and birthdays and Christmases and going on dates and living a life that involves tangible, physical things that Gabriel is supposed to be above but to which he is drawn.

On the first two dates we see, he and Beez meet up in places but they do not order anything. They do consume the music together and, by the night at The Resurrectionist, they take another step towards engaging more in the human world that they've largely been absorbing and observing together to date. They do so through allowing themselves to be a part of the space, too-- Gabriel miracling the song on the jukebox for Beez-- but also through material objects.

They start ordering stuff. Gabriel is happy to bring Beez something-- buying them beer and a bag of chips/packet of crisps, even if they're undecided on actually consuming them. He makes it clear that he doesn't have any expectations that Beez actually eat or drink anything if they don't want to but the idea is that they have moved to a place where they can see what the humans see in bringing one another things as they move through the world together.

Gabriel has gone from a being who barely knows why he's meeting Beez in this bar to being excited to see them again and happy to buy them a drink and their preferred snack to stare at. Beez is having a ball getting the food-judgy-if-also-food-curious Gabriel to buy them what they've clearly told him he had best call a packet of crisps if he plans on seeing them again. 😂 They have begun to let themselves claim resources for each other and themselves and to start to get less intense about consumption, which are features of recognizing the humanity in one another and themselves.

Gabriel's "oh" moment when he is given The Fly is that this is the first time he knows what it's like to experience the world as a person who has a person who cares about them and has brought them something.

What he means when he says "no one's ever given me anything before" is really "no one's ever thought about me before."

He means no one has ever seen him there-- until Beez did.

The gift of The Fly reminds Gabriel of that and shows him getting used to the new feeling of not being invisible and alone. He falls deeper in love with Beez and sees them more fully in return as well as a result of their gift and that, it could be argued, is what love is.

Love, if it's good, is a lot of "oh" moments-- because you don't fall in love once. You fall over and over again, deeper each time.

The difference between this moment with Gabriel and Beez versus the paralleling one between Crowley and Aziraphale is that, by 1941, our angel, Aziraphale, has known years upon years upon years of being seen by his demon.

(Amusingly, considering the theme of love as recognition, The Serpent is also literally, ya know, um, rather watchful at times. 😂)

Aziraphale is no stranger to Crowley being kind to him or rescuing him from the times he might have blundered, like we all do at times, in trying to do good.

Crowley saving the books in 1941 is absolutely not the first time that he's ever done something as Beez-and-The-Fly-level romantic as this for Aziraphale. In many ways, that's likely the point.

While The Fly was the first time of what will be many that Gabriel experienced what it was to feel loved by feeling seen, Crowley saving Aziraphale's books is a gesture that could not have happened at all without Crowley's long-held, intimate knowledge of Aziraphale as a person.

What makes Crowley saving Aziraphale's books so romantic isn't even just that he knows how important the books are to Aziraphale but that he knows Aziraphale so well that he could predict that the books would need rescuing.

Crowley knew that his angel would only focus on getting the two of them out of the church alive and unharmed and absolutely was going to forget about those beloved books of his while trying to protect them both and then be completely and utterly crushed when he did.

In this way, it's a contrasting parallel to Gabriel and Beez because, while that was the first time Gabriel had ever felt seen, 1941 is time number six trillion and five that Crowley had made Aziraphale feel seen like this and he's now so well-practiced at it that it's old hat at this point.

There is no judgement from Crowley about what happened with the Nazis in any of this. Aziraphale is horrible to himself over things like mistakes like he made in this church and being forgetful about these books but Crowley sees no such need for any of that. He protects Aziraphale from the fallout but in such a way that says he admires Aziraphale for trying to take the actions that he did. He sees Aziraphale as brave and his actions quietly affirm, much in the way that Beez does for Gabriel, that just because they are an angel who is used to doing for others doesn't mean they're not also a person who needs someone to do for them, too, and that Crowley is happy to be that person.

Aziraphale is reminded by Crowley knowing him well enough to anticipate that the books will need to be saved and taking care of that for him that they are a team. That Aziraphale doesn't have to worry about managing everything on his own because he and Crowley help each other manage life. They know each other well and have been together so long that they just know how to take care of one another.

It's not an "oh" of a realization of I'm in love for the first time. It is, as Michael Sheen says, a moment of falling in love. It's an "oh" of having been in love for a very long time and that love still finding new ways to surprise in its ability to keep causing Aziraphale to happily fall deeper and deeper...

This isn't realizing love and it's not the first time that Crowley has done something sweet and romantic like this for him-- it's the power of it being the nine billionth time Crowley has. It's the feeling of "oh" for Aziraphale that is a reminder that he is safe in the knowledge that Crowley knows him, through and through, and when confronted with the most real Aziraphale there is... the one that can be prone to making mistakes out of insecurities and self-doubt... the one that struggles sometimes with self-worth and brutal perfectionism... Crowley knows, sees him there, and is still madly in love with him.

Crowley never sees Aziraphale as weak or lesser for feeling any of it. He loves those sides of Aziraphale because he loves all of Aziraphale. He won't let Aziraphale be embarrassed because he likes and admires him as he is. He's gentle and kind and understanding about Aziraphale's insecurities, treating Aziraphale with the same care that Aziraphale shows him.

Crowley, better than anyone else ever has or will, sees Aziraphale for who Aziraphale truly is.

He loves that angel and his love helps Aziraphale to quiet some of his self-doubts and be a little kinder to himself-- much in the same way that Aziraphale's love does for Crowley. Crowley loving him makes Aziraphale feel like maybe there's a chance that he might be worth loving.

Loving an angel is making them feel seen and Aziraphale, holding those books Crowley rescued for him?

He felt very loved indeed.

The "oh" moment of 1941 is one moment where we see that Aziraphale has just been reminded of just how much Crowley truly sees him there-- and of just how much Crowley loves him. What we are watching, imho, is not the first realization of love but just one of a million different moments throughout history of Aziraphale continuing to fall deeper and deeper in love with Crowley.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: I try my absolute best to not include to much control with the reader like race, hair color what you wear etc… but in this remake I’m having the reader is something else rather than a dress for the club. However, the clothing is still imaginative for you, I didn’t detail it.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams(Have a refined treat, for your birf day.), @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You get swindled into going to a shitty party, but now? You don’t think it’s too shitty…

"Automotivo Bibi Fogosa" by Bibi Babydoll X DJ Brunin XM.

TW // SMUT/NSFW, Using Water As a Bit Of Lube, Fingering.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

“It would be fun!” Stacy had exclaimed to you, pressing her hands together in hopes you would follow her. Her green eyes begging you, pleading with you. “It will go great!”

Yet, her “promising” words never seemed interesting to you. Especially when it came to parties: Stacy was never a good person to stay in one spot. She was a wanderer when she was drunk, and it was a wonder how she even returns safely sometimes. Also, you didn’t feel nor think some hormonal party was fun to go to. Everything felt… judgmental, sweaty, shoving and grinding… It was 10x worse if it was some youngsters' party that didn't know what to do with their life. Which, it most likely was with how much Stacy was encouraging you to go and pleading with you, wanting you to be her ride.

Yeah, she wasn’t fooling you.

“Please! You need to get out!” She groans, unfolding her hands to pull at your upper arm, shaking you; rocking you back on fourth on the balls of your feet. “Get laid! Something! You have a boring life!”

“Boring life?” You scoff at her, barely amused. How dare she say responsibility was boring? She knew how life works too! Not that she abides by it…“It’s called adulting, Stacy.”

The young woman deeply and loudly groans at your response, hanging off your arm and tilting her head back like a toddler having a temper tantrum of not getting what they want. “I knooooow that!”

“Good, that means you can leave me in peace.” You immediately say after her whine, shrugging her hand off your arm. Heading for the small kitchen of your 2 bedroom 1 bath apartment that was 3 stories high.

“Wait! No!” Stacy denys, rushing forward after she had gained a temporary disbalance from your shrug off. Her hands tightly grasping at your wrists to stop you. “How about I make a proposal?”

A proposal? Hmmm…

“What do you have to offer?” You bite into her play, turning back around to face her while she lets go of your wrists. Wondering what she could offer you. Surely, she can’t offer anything good? Well, besides some bomb ass pasta but that wasn’t the point…

“You come to the party, and I…” She pauses for a moment, thinking, hesitating as her eyes roam the archway of the living room and kitchen. “I won’t bother you for a month.”

For only a month? You fold your arms and shift your weight, raising a brow.

“Two?” She raises a brow herself, questioning.

You don’t budge.

“…fooooour?” She tries, cringing at even offering such a high number.

You shift your weight, nothing else, not a peep.

“4 and a half. I’m not going any higher.” She states, shaking her head and hand in a ‘no’ motion. Her form standing up a bit straighter.

You think on it for a moment, hoping she would go to five months… but you suppose 4 and a half would be logical enough… “Fine, give me the address…”

Stacy squeals out at your answer, throwing her arms up in excitement. Practically jumping in her spot before she suddenly dashes off into her room. Immediately getting ready for the party she had swindled you on. Shoes flying from just peeking in through the archway to her messy room.

“You’re the best! I’ll give you the address when we get in the car!” She shouts at you, making you cringe at the noise level before you shake your head and deeply sigh. Slightly regretting your choice to even accept her offer.

Well, at least you have a bit of a ‘“membership” of her leaving you alone for 4 and a half months…

The party was absolute shit.

So shitty that you regretted even making the offer with Stacy, it was that bad. The young adults (more like fake ID teenagers) were flat faced drunk, couldn’t even get a word in to greet them. It made you wonder just how much alcohol count could be served here, not that you would drink alcohol. You were more of a wine person, and this place didn’t even have that either. This was supposed to be what? A high-end party? That's what Stacy had told you…

Taking a sip of your-self bought drink (as you knew not to trust youngster parties drinks and bar drinks themselves.) You eye the party around you, being weary of your surroundings. Looking at every possible shadowed corner within the building playing an made-up, self imaginary game called “Is there a Night Lord or not?” It was honestly a… fun game if you were extremely bored yourself, and if there was actually a Night Lord involved. Which, you believe you saw a flash of purple in one of the many dark corners, and you silently hope one doesn’t follow you home like the other one had. You had to report the poor, bat-like Astartes to some local Ultramarines. It wasn’t like you really wanted to! You just didn’t want to risk being an object of their… desires.

Sighing out deeply at your predicament, you swirl your drink in your hands, looking down at it. Wondering where Stacy may have gone, if she was still at this party or not— Oh, wait, there she is, stumbling into view and using other people as support… Oh, lord…

“Heeeeyyyyy, best friend!” She laughs, throwing her hands wide and aiming to hug you, nearly missing you as she puts you in a surprisingly tight hug. Her breath drowning in alcohol and a hint of… lime? So that Cherry Limeade is spiked, too spiked. “I got something for youuuuuu!”

You give a grunt at her tight lock around you, looking down at her practically folding herself in half to hug you around your waist. Her dark blue, shimmering and wrinkled dress very much done for the night. You're surprised she wasn’t complaining about her heels yet with all the flirtatious activities you watched her do all night.

“Stacy, let. Go.” You gently as you could, demand of her: voice low and a bit irritated by her drunken acts. Your eyes narrowing down at her before relaxing a little. She did say she had a gift…

“Hre’ you goooo…” She ignores you, sliding her hand down the side of your waist before putting her four fingers in the back pockets of your pants, shimmering something down in the pocket, and you're not sure if you should be disturbed by her or not. “I hop’ you ike’ it!”

Then she was off, slipping away from you, like she hadn’t just stuck potential illegals in your back pocket. Her form just slaunting away; confident in her surroundings and ability to get home safely. Never once did you see how she gets back home safe as she would always tell you “You can leave me at the party, I can find my way back,” and sometimes you do take the offer, but most of the time you’re pretty patient with her. You know how the world could work.

Sticking your hand down in the back pocket she placed the object in. You take it into the palm of your hands, observing it… confusingly. What was this… thing? It was small, black and has an option to turn on?

Oh, oh! Oh.

How the hell did she have one of these… vibrators? Tiny, portable… is this what Stacy does most of the night when she isn’t flirting with people? How in the hell? Where did she even purchase such a thing? Most importantly, was it even new? Clean? On your mercy, you hope it was…

Puzzled and a bit… icky, you try and put the thing back in your back pocket to hide it from the public eye because you did not want to be caught dead with that tiny thing if someone recognized it somehow. Your arm moving back to your side to put the small vibratior back in your pocket. Your hold on it light as if you feel like you must be sneaky with the thing. (That, or you just didn’t want to touch it.)

However, your hand holding the vibrator is thrown out of your grasp and somewhere in front of you as you turn to look at the cultript that knocked into you, and of course. It was a couple of ‘young adults’ grinding into one another, not even knowing they had bumped into you. Their forms still shuffling around, and for a brief moment you wanted to snap at them but decided against it. You would be 1 against like… 100+ other people here.

Deeply sighing out, you look away from the 2 youngsters and towards where you remember the vibrator that had flew out of your hands. Only to jump when you find a regal purple with a magenta gradient Space Marine, kneeling and shivering in front of you. Your form taking a step back to give the both of you some space when their gauntlet abruptly shoots out, grasping tightly at your arm. Not enough to break bone, but enough to give you a bruise.

Your heart is stuck in your throat while your breath (that was normal) turns into long exhales and inhales as if you were trying to hide yourself where you stand. Your eyes never leaving the Marine while you look at them over and over again, trying to find a reason why this Marine was grasping at you; making you stay in place from where he kneels. His other gauntlet rummaging around the joint of his armor near his waist.

“Enough of that.” A masculine, French accent comes out of the marine. The fingers of his gauntlet squishing something within their armor with a small, electric crack. His voice sending a tingling sensation down your spine. “Is that your way of a greeting?”

“I…uhhh.” You stammer, stammer! You're an adult and this was making you blush like a schoolgirl? Get a grip! “Not preferably…”

“Preferably?” The Marine repeats with a chuckle, rising his form from keeling. His stature, now seemingly tall rather than shaking when he was kneeling… His grip was still tight on your arm, never letting you go. “You don’t greet everyone with a vibrator?”

“I…what? No!” You scoff, trying to pull your arm out of his grip to no succession. Your face going red, burning with embarrassment. You do not greet everyone— especially Astartes with a vibrator! Fuckin’ Stacy!

“Oh, no need to be embarrassed, little rose.” The marine purrs, leaning forward to nearly press his helmet against your blushing face, and you swear to god you can feel his words against your skin. Your nerves just tingling with the sensation of his voice. Not only that, but he moves you with such ease. (Gently) pulling your arm out to make you stumble more towards him. “I wouldn’t mind a greeting like that everyday with that petite face, and body of yours~”

Oh, fuck. He was going to have you in a choke hold—

“It’s uhh… not for free.” You come up with something quick, wanting to just dash off and burry yourself 6 feet under some Astartes-made concrete. Yet, you just had to say something even more stupid?! “Not for free.” Who the fuck says that?!

“Hmm, no?” He hums deeply, leaning his helmet into— near your shoulder. It definitely felt like he was on your shoulder. His gauntlet on your arms slowly sliding down to your shoulder, ribs then waist. “Then what do you offer, little rose?”

“Your voice.” You blurt out, your eyes flickering over the sides of his helmet. Both of your arms now able to brace yourself on the pauldrons of the Marine. Unsure if you wanted him close or not. This feels dangerous; unspeakable.

“My voice?” He rumbles, almost surprised by your answer, but at the same time it pleases him greatly. His helmet slightly tilting into your neck. His armored fingers gently digging into your waist. He still needs your offer, not your demand. “What is it that you offer then?”

Ah, right, so stupid of you! Him and his sexy voice and accent! Gah! Stupid! Stupid! Wait… what could you possibly offer this Marine? A Emperor Child no less? A new bottle of perfume? That you didn’t have at the moment? No, that was too minuscule… He needed something… suitable, lasting, up to glory…

“If, you have nothing to offer…” He pauses, grinning beneath his helmet, noticing your silence. His helmet gently nuzzling the side of your neck, touching you. Sending bolts of tingles down your nerves. “Perhaps… you, can be the offer? Lié (Bonded.)”

“M-Me?” You stutter, bamboozled by such a proposition. Were you willing to do such a thing? To have… a stand with a Marine? Wasn’t it up the Marine to accept you too? Did he really…?

“Yes, you petite rose.” He purrs a small laugh, leaning back a little bit to look down into your eyes that look up at him in total surprise, or was it confusion? “I don’t see anyone else that is as sober as you here nor as extravagant.”

His comment makes you blush, but his own offer still hesitates you. If you were to go with the Marine… How would it fit? This man was like… 3x bigger than you, but oh… that is the trick? Isn’t it? Trying to straddle him and struggling to take him—

No! No, we must stay focused.

“I can smell your arousal, little rose~” He purrs, leaning in close again. His armored fingers twitching, just itching to pick you up and toss you over his pauldron.

Fuck it.

Going on your tippy toes, you bring one of your hands to the side of his helmet, bringing him down a bit more. Your lips coming forward to give his helmet a kiss to the cheek, (and giving the kiss extra pizzazz.) You open your mouth, pushing your tongue out and slowly giving a lick, tasting the metallic ceramite of his helmet. His lime green visors flickering in and out for a split second.

You don’t even have time to react when he has you over his pauldron. His gauntlet giving your thigh a tight squeeze as he hurries to go to some employee restroom, and growls at anything that gets in his way (including the frolicking employees inside the restroom.) His gauntlet quick to close and lock the door before placing you down on the counter: between the sink and wall.

“Oh, little rose, little rose, little rose.” The Marine repeats like a mantra, raising one of his gauntlets to his helmet and the other down to his codpiece. A hiss going through the bathroom that dully thuds to the bass of the music. “You play unfairly.”

“Unfairly?” You deride, shaking your head slightly as you look up at him taking off his helmet. You form still clothed with your thighs wide and your shoes positioned on top of the counter. One of your hands on the counter and the other on the tile wall with your back touching the cold mirror behind you. “You’re the one with all the thick layers of armor on. I can’t rip through that, you know.”

The dark purple haired Marine deeply chitters down at you for your snark. His eyes a full on pink color as he places his helmet on the opposite side of the sink. His other hand still messing with his codpiece while he uses the other again to turn on the water of the sink. “I’m sure you would like the armor kink, little rose.”

“Hmmm, would I?” You ask, tilting your head. Looking up at him through your lashes. Your legs extending to press up against the sides of his waist, trying to pull him closer (which he allows.) Yet, your legs cannot wrap around him fully, especially with his armor on.

“Your smell is telling on you.” He rumbles, managing to take off one of his gauntlets before he puts his fingers under the running water. Another hiss sounding out as his codpiece dislodges. “You may lie, but your smell betrays you. You want me to fuck you.”

“You’re obvious yourself, Marine.” You huff, rolling your eyes but smirking at the Astartes. Moving your legs slightly. “I don’t think one will be eager to get laid.”

“Hmmm, with you, yes.” He hums, moving his codpiece off of him and on the counter too. His cock jumping up in proud arousal, and you can’t help but blush at the size of him. His gauntlet moving to your waist, thumbing at you. “Your scent is deep and sweet like a field of roses.”

“Really? I’m not wearing any perfume…” You tilt your head, just how much could the Marine smell? How powerful were their senses that goes beyond yours?

“Good, it hides your natural scent; your beauty.” He doesn’t hesitate to reply, his gauntlet moving to the zipper of your pants, pressing lightly into your clothed folds. Threatening to rip your only pair of pants and underwear tonight. Not that you would really complain… “Ambrosius.”

“Hm?” You hum, questioning. Your eyes focused on how gently he actually rips at the bottom of your clothing with eerie ease, like he may make experience with this…

“My name is Ambrosius: Ambrosio Vérany.” He introduces himself, his gauntlets pulling the rest of your bottoms off before moving his hand: wet with water at your folds. “I want you to scream it once I’m inside of you. Giving you what you want, what you need.”

“Oh? Ambrosius.” You test his name, teasing him with it. A little growl leaving him when you do, his wet finger pressing lightly between your folds, going up and down in a slow motion. A small pleasured grunt leaving you as your hands come to grasp at his hand threatening to breach you.

“You say it so sweetly, so teasingly…” He rumbles again. His middle finger going between your folds with a slick squelch. Your back arching and your mouth opening to silently moan out. Your hands grasping up to his rerebrace as he pushes forward through your unprepared walls. “Again, little rose.”

“Nnng, Ambrosius.” You sigh, leaning forward a little bit, curling up while his finger works you. Your eyes looking down at his finger going in and out of you at a leisurely pace, but it brings so much pleasure of how big his finger feels inside of you, stretching you.

“Hmm, yes little rose?” He purrs lowly with a teasing tone in it. His body curling forward to press his lips to your forehead before he opens his mouth himself, a long almost silky-like appendage going down your cheek. A heavy weight of wet heat suddenly staining your cheek, the tip of his tongue nearly prodding into your mouth and ear before he returns his tongue with a deep chuckle. “Show me; tell me what you need~”

“I… I— ah! I need you Ambrosius.” You groan, throwing your head back before looking back down to his finger that continually penetrates you. Your grip on his rerebrace tight. “I want to cum on your cock Ambrosius, please.”

“How can I refuse such sweet manners?” He teases, rubbing your wall just right, leaving you on a high before his finger leaves you. His form standing tall as he positions his tip leaking pre-cum at your entrance and if feels; looks bigger than you have originally thought…

You move your hands back to the tile wall and counter, mentally preparing yourself to take this Marine. Your form shifting a bit, getting a bit more comfortable before he makes his attempt. His hand staying on his cock, leading it as he slowly pushes in. Your breath leaving you as you throw your head back once more.

“No need to be breathless yet, my little rose.” He grunts, throwing his own head back for a second before looking down were you two join together. “I have plenty more to offer.”

“Nngg, really?” You gasp, failing to keep yourself up right as your hand on the wall slips, your body going down a little, his cock jumping a bit more further into you as you turn a bit to your side to have your elbow hold you up on the counter and your other hand just right beside it. “Show me then, Ambrosio.”

He laughs, his French accent showing through. Taking his time putting you on his cock before thrusting in small motions, rolling his hips. His armored body suddenly curling over yours, blocking out the bathroom light, casting his shadow over you. His hot breath on the top of your head.

“If you say so, little rose~” He purrs into your ear, keeping up his purring to send vibrations through his cock and through your walls. His hips going back a bit before sliding through you again, shocking your nerves with pleasure as you shiver and shake. Your breathy moans coating the counter and tile with heat.

He grunts and groans loudly with each thrust he gives you. Both of his gauntlet and hand on your waist has he pistons in and out of you, slowly gaining pace with each movement. His armored body ever slowly curling over you more and more, his mouth opening again as his tongue rolls out. Swirling before lapping at your cheeks and down your neck. He isn’t really sure if you would… accept him with your mouth as his tongue is… inhumane; not even Astartes level… but he doesn’t mind tasting your skin.

“I’m going to nest you, little rose.” He groans, briefly putting his tongue back in his mouth. His pace going swift as your walls’ pulse. “I’m bring you back to the nest and fuck you properly.”

You could only moan back a response. Your head resting on the counter as he uses you. Saliva leaving your lips; your eyes almost delirious looking, absolutely blissed out with how his cock ruins you for another man. You definitely won’t be fucking a human man after this either.

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” He growls, thrusting a bit hard to get your whole body to bounce. A pleasured yelp leaving you. “To be nested? To be cared for?”

“Tell me, little rose. Tell me you would like to be underneath me, withering… or perhaps on top? Taking me the best you can. I’m open to try.” Ambrosius continues, feeling your walls constrict around his cock, trying to milk his cock. Your climax coating his cock while he continues to thrust. Feeling how your body relaxes a bit more in his hold.

“Already? Such a good little rose~” He thrusts just a bit quicker, burning a bit but still pleasurable in your afterglow. His cock twitching and pulsing inside of you before he shuffles a bit in his spot, coming in closer. Stilling when his cock goes the furthest it can inside of you, pulsing while a new heat coats your insides. “Good little rose…”

Everything takes a moment to register. Your body still a bit… limp. That climax being one that was rather intense considering you haven’t gotten laid in a long time, and you were pleasured by an Astartes no less…

“…Want to go again little rose?” Ambrosius sighs, nuzzling the side of your neck. His gauntlet and hand still on your waist, and his cock still hard inside of you. “Preferably in my nest?”

“Nest?” You say, a bit confused. Not really sure what he was saying. Raising a bit on your elbow to give the Astartes a glance.

“Nest it is.” He rumbles a light laugh, pulling out of you slowly. A whine leaving you at the emptiness that suddenly envelopes you. His hand and gauntlet gently wrapping around you, covering you with himself. Having a bit of decency in order to claim you more properly.

Oh, how he was going to leave your bare and stained in his nest.

[katz-chow]

not yet...

synopsis: john price is a very patient man. warnings: 18+ i will block ageless & minor blogs. soft dom price, gn!reader, (pretty extreme?) edging and denial, bondage, gags, face fucking, remote control vibrator, messy reader

a/n: horny, ovulation, womp womp.

thinking about how strictdom!price would definitely be in control of your orgasms.

how he would most definitely edge and denial you for hours maybe even days if he feels like it. it’s not your fault, it never is—you’re always his good play thing, so obedient. but he wants to have his fun too.

so when you give him the greenlight, he ties you up with a spreader bar, standing up against the wall. i think when he wants to be mean, he loves bondage. gags, especially ring gags so your spit just drips out and he can stick his fingers into your mouth, gathering it up and using it as live against your hard nipples.

standing there, hands tied up behind your back, drool rubbing down your sternum and stomach, and legs spread so far apart that your slick is falling in a string down onto the hardwood.

his fingers trail down from your nipples and he finally touches you, your legs buckling. his thigh lands in between yours, keeping one of your legs up and pinned against the wall.

then off goes one edge, you’re panting already, eyes hazy and whimpers loud, having no way to silence them.

then another.

and another

“come on baby, it’s just one more…”

“precious baby, look at you go. how many was that? 7? 8? aw…all swollen and desperate for my touch”

you whimper as tears flow down your face and saliva continue to accumulate on your chest, drying and then gathering again in a messy, dirty cycle.

you can hardly feel your legs another, mindlessly just standing as the cool air calms down your nerves. it’s extra sensitive now and you’re so desperate, knowing that just a few more minutes and that dam of heat in your stomach will break and burst.

panting, his hands find that specific spot again and your eyes roll back, knees buckling like a newborn fawn. your eyes trail him as your head leaned back against the hard wall, pleading him.

and just as you’re about to cum, his hand pulls away and you let out a cry, so understimulated and overstimulated that it’s all so confusing. you watch him intently as price’s lips meet the top of your head as his hands undo the knot that keeps your own locked up and away

you’re confused, aching, and utterly confused when he undos all your ties and gag and carries you into the bathroom, cooing praises and affirmations.

but you’re tired and so you nuzzle up against him, as he draws you a bath.

two days after that, you found yourself on a similar position, hogtied with your head at the edge of the bed.

price got more creative the next time around, finding the softest red rope he could find and tying you up in beautiful, intricate knots only a military man could do...oh wait.

you whimpers as his cock slips into your mouth, your gag was gone today which meant 1.) your jaw isn't sore anymore but also 2.) he's making you say things to get what you want.

"say it baby, say how much you want my cum in you" he looks down at you as his hand grips your hair, yanking your head up to look at him. you're too dazed to look at him fully, eyes hazy and lustful as he denies your orgasm until the number reaches double digits. it was getting harder and harder to even pay attention to his words, the remote-controlled vibe buzzing wildly in between your tied legs.

but just as you were about to cum, he stops it with his other hand on the control. you cry as tears flow freely down your face.

"you didn't answer me...too bad, darling, was feeling nice that time."

you whine and try to inch closer to him, nuzzling his slick cock onto your cheek as an apology. "i need you, please..."

another bubble bath was drawn soon after that.

third day and things were different, no more ropes, gags, vibrators, nothing anymore.

just you say on the john's lap, his lips nuzzled into the crook of your neck as his fingers play around with you, using your sensitive and eager slick as lube. every stroke, every feather-light glaze of his fingers tips and you were so so close to cumming, it felt embarrassing. like you've never been touched by him before, but you have over a hundred times now. if anything he can't keep his hands off of you.

unbeknownst to you, you not cumming was driving him crazy as well. the caretaker role that he lets take over him is screaming as you're left unsatisfied every night before now. but the primal, strict captain in him rejoices whenever he sees you beg, repeating a string of "please" and his name over and over like a prayer. god, it gives him chills. when you cry and throw yourself into his embrace, humping his thigh or arm, so desperate to get off... he feels bad, just a tad bit.

so now he has you gently held in his arms as your nails dig into his skin, feeling so so sensitive. you cry as he stop, begging for more, yet when he does touch you, it feels so overwhelming you beg him to stop. you're confused and your dumb little brain can't process it. he's just trying to make you feel good...

but then he finds the right pace and then the right pressure and you feel his chest rumble with a chuckle as you finally melt into his embrace and rub up against him, panting and letting moans fill your shared bedroom.

"making you feel so good yeah? going so light and gentle yet you're squirming already...gonna cum for me?" john cooed as his pace and pressure stayed consistent, even as your back arches and sweat covers your body.

you feel the familiar feeling at your lower stomach, the burning, cracking fire that's about to burst. more begging and whimpers fall from your lips as his hand continues. you're ready for him to stop, to leave you hanging, messy and slick coating you.

but the arm around your waist holds you still as his pace remains the same. you whimper, "g-gonna cum...fuck!"

he kisses and nibbles the tip of your ear as you scream, your orgasm finally, finally rupturing through you. you feel your back arch as your head digs into john's chest, mouth hanging open as your body tenses up.

the orgasm washing through you for what seems like ages before you can register anything again. the first thing you noticed was the lingering of john's cologne that you hadn't noticed when he had you strip in front of him. and how soft his hands were, holding onto the flesh of your stomach and thigh as he grounds you. and then you hear his voice.

"it's okay, love...poor thing. didn't that feel good, hm?"

you nod, absent-mindly as he holds you close, dragging a throw blanket over you as hooks an arm under your legs to turn you that he's cradling you. he gives you a kiss on your cheek, then your nose, and then a long, soft one on your lips, before one on your forehead, inhaling your scent.

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[zoyaofthegardvn]

Clingy

In which reader overhears Mor say something not too nice about her... miscommunication enuses!

A/N: Just because I wanted to write some angst! Not too much, though, lol, I only write happy endings on this blog! :)

CW: None! Angst to fluff!

The day had been long, and tiring. You worked at a school in the Night Court, specifically with children ages 5-10. Winter Solstice was approaching, and today was the last day before school was out for a bit of a break. Little ones were so, so antsy about the holiday, and it didn't help that snow had been coming down fast and hard all day, increasing the anxiousness to be released for the break. It was hard to wrangle them all and get them to pay attention to the day's lesson, because truly, you didn't want to spoil their fun.

But finally, the day was over. The children were home with their families for a few weeks, likely already out enjoying the winter wonderland in the glittering Velaris. As beautiful as you thought it was, all you really wanted was to be back home with your mate, wrapped up under the blankets together.

First, though, you had to meet her at the River House, where you know she had been meeting with other members of the Inner Circle to discuss an upcoming visit to the Court of Nightmares. It was only Feyre, Nesta, and Rhys, as Cassian, Amren, and Azriel were all on other diplomatic trips, preparing for the large gathering planned for the upcoming new year.

After winnowing to the front yard, you trudged through the thick snow, not bothering to knock before entering the large estate. It was quiet, Nyx likely occupied with Elain while the others conversed. You could hear their muffled voices coming from the center of the house, where Rhys' office was located.

You weren't trying to be especially quiet, but you also hadn't announced your arrival, either.

The doors to his office were closed, dim light seeping from underneath. As you got closer, you heard someone, maybe Feyre, mention your name.

This, of course, grabbed your attention, and you tiptoed forward gently to listen to what they were saying. Just a few steps away, you heard Nesta ask, "How are you two doing?"

The question wasn't odd as the two of you had just moved in together, so it was only natural that your friends wanted to know how this new stage in your lives was going.

Mor sighed before responding, "It's good."

This made your brows furrow, because if they had asked you, you would have replied that it was amazing, one of the best experiences of your life. You'd have said how much closer to her you felt, how much more in love with her you've fallen and how you can't wait to spend the rest of your lives together.

But, you knew that Mor did tend to keep her romantic life more private than some of the other members of the Inner Circle, just rivaling Amren. She trusted them with her life, of course, but it didn't erase the centuries she'd spent learning to be incredibly cautious with and protective of any love in her life.

There were just some things she preferred to keep private, being honest with these kinds of emotions has always been more difficult for her.

But, still, you wondered if maybe things weren't as perfect for her as they were for you.

You take another step closer, turning your ear to the door. Rhys chuckles, saying, "Just good? You're finally in a place to yourselves and it's just good? What happened to the Mor and Y/N I know, that were always complaining about living with," Rhys pauses, and you can see him deep in thought in your head. "What did she call us?"

Nesta speaks next, "A pack of unruly males?" the smirk evident in her voice.

Rhys and Feyre both laugh before Rhys speaks again, "Yes! You're telling me you're finally away from the Cassian and Azriel," Feyre cuts in, adding, "You too, Rhys!" before he finishes with, "Pissing contest?"

Mor laughs a bit, but she doesn't say anything.

You're really beginning to overthink now, your lips in a frown.

When the laughter dies down, Feyre asks, "Really, Mor, how is it? I miss having you both around."

Mor hums, and you can hear her take a large sip of wine now that you've moved to directly outside of the door, ear pressed to the dark wood.

"I love her, she's my mate, and I'm so glad to take this big step with her, but... it's different." Mor says, getting quieter by the end.

Your heart drops at the statement, and you can only listen as she continues.

"I g-guess.. she's just everywhere, you know? More clingy, too. It's only been two weeks, I'm still seeing how it goes..."

By now, your eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, and you begin to back away, not wanting to hear anymore and too worried you'll be discovered. The word she used, clingy, was ringing in your ears.

Yes, you were quite affectionate and cuddly with her. Especially now that you two had a private home, no risk of anyone seeing you be intimate and close. Not that you two hadn't been in front of your friends, but there was a different feel to it when you could wrap up on the couch together, cook a meal together, or read a book on the porch together completely alone. You loved it, cherished it, especially after spending so long wanting a romance like this, never thinking you'd find your mate.

You were devastated to know Mor didn't feel quite the same, but you loved her, of course, and didn't want anything to end between the two of you. You knew she loved you, but you wished she'd just told you if she was having any doubts about your living situation or if she wished you two could spend more time apart, rather than embarrass you in front of your friends.

Once you'd left the front of the River House, you winnowed away, to your and Mor's house.

You decided to get ready for the evening, that you'll just wait for Mor to return home instead of meeting her. You doubted that she'd notice, and that maybe, she'd appreciate the space you'd given her.

---

It's almost dark out by the time you heard the front door unlock and creak open. You'd begun to make dinner, a pasta sauce simmering on the stove next to a pot of boiling water, bread baking in the oven.

You listened to Mor shed her winter gear, ending with her boots landing on the mat by the front door. Her footsteps padded down the hallway, entering the kitchen where she saw you at the stovetop, back to the entryway.

"Hello, love," Mor said sweetly, before sniffing dramatically. "Whatever you're making smells amazing!"

You turn to look at her over your shoulder, smiling and thanking her.

Her brows drip just a bit in confusion, clearly expecting a more joyous greeting, but you send a loving pulse down the bond in an effort so soothe her, turning back to the food in front of you.

She walks forward, wrapping her arms around your waist, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You make no move to return the embrace, instead, continuing to stir the sauce that's nearly done.

She places a few kisses on your skin, then says, "I missed you today, baby. I thought you were going to meet me at Rhys' earlier?"

You place the spoon down, turning to look at her. "I had a long day at work today, so I figured I'd come home and start dinner early." You smiled at the end, to assure her that it was just a simple plan change.

She looks confused again for just a second, before she smiles and nods, leaning in to kiss your lips. You kiss her back, but pull away before she can deepen it. You didn't want to be cold, but you were still a bit hurt, and of course, you didn't want to seem clingy.

"Why don't you change into some comfier clothes, I'll have the food ready when you get back."

Mor slowly pulls away from you, nodding softly before backing out of the room.

You sigh, turning back to the stove.

By the time the pasta has been drained, added to the sauce pan, seasoned more to taste and plated, Mor is reentering the room. She dons a red nightgown. It isn't especially sexy, it covers her and is quite tame. But she knows how much you love her in red.

As you pull the bread from the oven and begin to place a piece on each of your plates, Mor grabs a bottle of wine from the rack Amren had gifted the two of you.

She pours you and herself a glass, placing them on the tables as you set the plates down. You go to gather silverware and napkins, but she pushes you to your seat, pecking your cheek. "Sit, my love, after cooking all this. I'll get the rest."

Truly, it wasn't much, and it definitely wasn't hard, but you two usually cooked together, so you know she likely wanted to feel like she did some of the dinner work.

You sat and waited, smiling at her as she set your things down on the table.

When she took her seat, you immediately began to eat, waiting for her to tell you about her day.

"So, do you want me to tell you about the Court of Nightmares trip?"

You nodded while sipping your wine, encouraging her to continue.

---

After your plates were cleaned and your wine glasses were emptied, you stood and began to collect the dishes. You hadn't talked much, and spoke little of your day. Your plan was to go to bed within the next hour or so, to give Mor some of the time alone she badly needed. There was a book Nesta had given you that you needed to finish anyway, a few knitting projects you'd started with Elain and had abandoned, some homework for the next term you could get a headstart on making.

Alone time, you decided, would be good for the both of you.

Mor helped you clean, singing a song under her breath to fill the silence. When you were done, she wrapped her arms around you again and kissed you, harder than before.

"I really missed you," she said against your lips, cupping your face with one hand and gripping your hip with the other.

And, of course, you missed her too. That was undeniable, and you can't resist kissing your mate.

"I missed you too, sweetheart, I'm glad you had a good day." You bumped her nose with your own, kissing her again, rubbing her arms and back.

She grips you tighter, pushing your body into hers. She groans in your mouth, and you pull away before it can go any farther.

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, you say, "I'm really tired, my love, I'm sorry."

She rubs your cheek with her thumb, kissing your forehead before pulling away. "That's okay," she says, always loving and sweet, never wanting to pressure you or make you feel bad. "I want you to tell me about it, I was excited to see you earlier and I got sad that you didn't come," your heart stings at her admission, but she continues on, "but I understand that you're tired. What happened today? Come lay down with me on the couch."

You feel a bit guilty for rejecting her like this, but, as gently as you can, you say, "I think I'm just gonna go to bed, love. I'm really sorry, I'm just exhausted. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, I swear."

Mor looks a bit surprised at your response. "Do you feel alright, Y/N, do you feel sick?"

You huff a laugh, smiling and shaking your head. You kiss her again, to alleviate any worry. "Just a headache, from the bad day, I think. I'm just going to lay down, you know, in the quiet, see if it helps. I'll likely be asleep pretty quickly."

Reluctantly, with a frown on her face, Mor nods. "Okay, baby. If you think that'll make you feel better."

You hum, "It will. I'm fine, Mor, really."

She releases you and grabs your hand, pulling you to the bedroom. "Let me at least tuck you in?"

You laugh at her, and nod your head. "Alright."

---

Later, in the solitude of your shared bedroom, you attempt to focus on the coursework in front of you.

Mor had, as she said she would, tucked you into bed. She fluffed the pillows, laid you down, dimmed the lights, cracked a window just a bit to cool the stuffy room. Then, she pulled the blankets up to your chin, kissing your forehead before again asking if you're alright.

You reassured her that truly, it's just been a very long day, trying not to be puzzled over her apparent newfound desire to be incredibly close to you tonight.

You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about the distance you'd been putting between the two of you this evening. But, you were admittedly still very hurt. You struggled to both wish that she'd spoken to you rather than behind your back, and be glad that she'd even opened up at all, likely wanting to spare your feelings. You did not want to drive her away from you by being... clingy. But, it was hard to do this, to be so... detached from one another.

You sigh in frustration, the blank sheet of paper in front of you taunting you. You resign to the fact that you will likely not get any work done tonight. Not for your job, not on Nesta's book, not your half knitted scarves. There really is nothing to do but think, and thinking is especially cruel on you tonight.

You... could go downstairs to join your mate. You can picture her, downstairs, cozy on the couch. Either painting her nails, reading a book, or maybe, unlike you, getting some work done on whatever work for the Night Court she'd been tasked with.

But... no. You wouldn't bother her. You'd give her her space, so long as she was happy and comfortable, you'd learn to be too with this new relationship dynamic. Really, so that you never lost her, you figured you had no choice.

It was a little over an hour later, long after you'd called it quits and shut the lights off entirely, that the bedroom door creaked open again.

You listened to Mor gently close the door behind her, and pad her way over to the bed. You were, very clearly, on your side of the bed. Almost to the edge. You hoped this didn't strike her as odd, because you rarely went to bed without her, you hoped it just seemed like you'd rolled over there in your sleep without her to cuddle up to.

She lifted the covers and slid in, yet remained still. You didn't dare show that you were still awake, and so you waited to see what move she made.

Finally, after several seconds of nothing, Mor shifted closer. She didn't cuddle you as intensely as usual, just reached a hand out to rest on your hip. Typically, you'd lay on her chest, or you'd take turns being the little spoon, or you'd lay facing one another with your legs and hands interlocked. You yearned for the contact, to feel her skin on your own. But, you made no move to get closer.

Falling asleep was difficult, especially without the comfort of your mate wrapped around you. But, eventually, under the weight of her delicate hand, you drifted off.

---

The next morning, you woke to sunlight trickling in through the blinds. You could see a bit of dust floating through the air, and you faintly picked up on the sound of yet more snow falling.

Turning to look beside you, you saw Mor, asleep and cozy. She looked so warm, so tired, yet not entirely peaceful. A small frown was painting her face, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Sitting up in the bed, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then her pouted lips. She didn't wake up at the touch, and you opted to let her sleep in rather than cuddle her until the both of you were awake and ready to start the day.

You shivered at the cold floor touching your barefeet, slipping fuzzy slippers Feyre had gifted you one year onto your feet. You gently exited the bedroom, careful to not disturb Mor's rest.

As you prepared coffee in the kitchen, you studied the snowfall from the window above the sink. It was gorgeous, a glittery white coat making the green of the trees surrounding your property stand out. Your house was tucked away in the woods, as it has been your dream to have a home surrounded by your favorite scenery. The house is private and cozy. But, it is also incredibly close to the heart of Velaris, just located on the closest edge of the city. That decision was for Mor, who loved city night life.

As you observe the weather, you wonder if you made a mistake choosing a home so secluded. The snow was thick and falling fast. Visibility was low, and you didn't need to go outside to know that it was bitter cold. Whatever plans you and Mor had for the day would be no more, as the weather was far too intense for any traveling.

This should have made you excited, squealing with glee. It should have sent you straight back to the bedroom, to sleep in with Mor, or, to wake her up and get her to enjoy the beautiful sight with you.

But, it made you... nervous. Nervous to see her reaction to her being snowed in with you, nervous that because neither of you could escape, one of you, likely her, would decide to leave for good when the snow cleared.

You shake your head, sipping your coffee, feeling silly for such dramatic thoughts.

She doesn't hate you, you thought. She loves you very much, she just needs space.

As if your sour thoughts had summoned her, Mor strolled into the kitchen. You hadn't heard her wake up, too lost in your head.

You turned to look at her, smiling softly over your mug, sending a loving pulse down the bond before you have to break the news to her.

She smiled back, tugging on your bond, walking up to you planting a firm kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, beautiful," Mor whispered against your lips, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you.

"Mmmm, good morning." You pressed a kiss to her hair, inhaling her scent.

You pulled back, turning to grab her favorite mug from a cupboard. "I made coffee, shall I make you a cup?"

You're pouring the coffee before she answers, knowing she'll never turn a cup of coffee down. She nods, then takes your spot at the sink, observing the snow as you had previously done.

"It's coming down hard, I didn't expect all this!"

You wince at the comment, hoping she isn't too terribly disappointed that she's trapped here.

"Yes, I thought yesterday was to be the worst of it. It doesn't look like we'll be able to do much today..." You trailed off at the end, bracing for a sight of disappointment.

When one didn't come, you turned back to her, holding out her mug that now contained coffee sugared and creamed to her liking.

She looked at you, wiggling her eyebrows and biting her lip. She took a deep sip from her mug before setting it down, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it on the counter, too. She grabbed your hand, pulling you to the stairs, presumably back to the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You asked, genuinely confused.

"Let's get some more clothes on, silly! There's so much snow to play in!" She giggles as she speaks, like it should be obvious what her plans for today are.

You let her pull you into the bedroom, watching as she rummages through drawers and your walk in closet. She pulls out several layers of clothes for both you and her, throwing them onto the bed. She starts to pull her nightgown over her head before catching your confused gaze.

"What's wrong, Y/N? I thought you loved snow?"

She's right, you do love snow. You loved the look of it, the feel of breathing in the cold air. The snowmen you could build and the snowball fights you were always determined to win. The crunch of it underneath your boots and the smoothness as you held it in your gloved hands.

That wasn't why you hesitated, though.

"I do!" You were quick to clarify, not wanting it to seem like you were the one not wanting to spend this time together. "I just... we can't really do anything today, with it coming down like this." Mor just stared at you, waiting for you to continue. "I-I mean, aren't you a little upset? Didn't you have more things to meet with Rhys and Feyre about? Weren't you going to help plan the New Year party?"

Mor slowly released the hem of her gown, confusion painting her face. "I mean, yes, I did have those plans today, but why would I be upset? It's just a party, one that's still days away." She stepped closer towards you, and you could sense that she was growing a little aggravated. "Why would I be mad that I get a day off, a day to spend at home?"

You wanted to say, because it's a day with me, another day you don't get to have alone. But, you didn't. Your goal has never been to start a fight over this, and so you backed down before one could start.

"I don't know, Mor. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset about it... the way it looks outside, it could be a few days until everything is back to normal. I didn't mean to imply anything, I'm sorry."

Mor didn't say anything for a moment, just nodded her head and continued to frown.

"D-Do you... do you still want to go outside?" You asked tentatively, the air charged with frustration, confusion, hesitation.

Mor sighed, closing her eyes for a second before moving to pull on a pair of sweatpants, discarding her nightgown and putting on a sweater. "I don't feel like it anymore, maybe later."

She didn't look at you as she spoke, speaking under her breath and hurrying past you to the door.

You tried to grab her arm, to stop her from fleeing, but she moved out of your reach and left to go downstairs.

"Damnit." You muttered under your breath. You had never intended to upset her, but you also didn't think you had done anything to deserve her anger.

But, it seemed like now she truly did need that alone time she'd apparently been craving. You wouldn't stoke her anymore, you'd let her calm down, and you'd stay out her way, even if it mean enduring the radiating disappointment from the bond.

---

You spent most of the morning locked away in the bedroom, staying out of Mor's way. You left once to fix another cup of coffee, Mor was sitting at the table, touching up her red-painted nails. She just looked at you when you walked in, and said nothing as you left to retreat back upstairs.

The book you were reading, while good, wasn't doing a very good job of distracting you. In fact, the longer you sat, the more your frustration brewed.

You really didn't feel like you deserved for her to be upset with you. You had been trying to avoid this, a fight, a confrontation. But you weren't sure how to move past this until you two talked.

A little after noon, you again ventured downstairs, determined to get some food and speak to Mor. You planned to tell her how you felt undeserving of her disappointment, how you felt like it was unfair that she was upset with you for giving her what she seemingly wanted.

She was absent from the kitchen, and eventually, you found her in her office, leafing through paperwork at her desk. You could tell she was trying to busy herself, as just days ago, she had told you the paperwork was mindless, formality bullshit from court to court.

Leaning against the doorway, you ask her, "Would you like some lunch? I think I'm going to make a sandwich, or maybe a salad?"

Mor didn't look up from her work. "No, thanks," she mumbled under her breath, paying you no attention.

"Mor, look at me," you said, calm and with a balanced tone.

She sighed, refusing to meet your gaze, keeping her attention secured on the papers in front of her. "I'm not hungry, Y/N, I'll figure something out later." She briefly waved her hand in the air, like she was shooing you away.

You roll your eyes, the desire for a conversation gone at the annoyance in her tone. You turn to walk away, but you can't help yourself from saying, "Alone, I'm sure, as you've made it abundantly clear that you prefer."

You're hardly a few steps down the hallway before you hear Mor call, "What did you say?" The sound of her chair screeching backward as she rises fills the silence, but you're still walking away. You knew having a calm, collected talk about this wasn't going to happen after she acted so unconcerned with your presence.

You hear her footsteps enter the hallway, too, Mor trailing right behind you.

"Y/n, what did you just say?"

And, because you're beginning to grow a bit bitter about this whole situation, you say, "Figure it out later."

Her footsteps grow faster, and as you turn the corner to enter the kitchen, she grabs your wrist and whirls you around.

"Are you serious right now?" Her tone is sharp, her jaw clenched, her beautiful face painted with anger.

You laugh, once and humorless. "Am I serious? Are you serious, Mor? Acting so cold to me today," your voice grows sharper the more you think about it, "all because you're locked in this damn house with me!"

Mor's brows scrunch, a mixture of anger and confusion. "Excuse me?! You're the one who didn't want to go outside with me this morning! You're the one who avoided me last night, going to bed early and staying as far away from me as you could!"

You pull your arm out of her grasp, pointing at her, "I never said I didn't want to go outside with you! You're the one who said she didn't feel like going anymore!"

Mor turns, scoffing and throwing her hands in the air like she can't believe what's happening. "Why would I after you had just implied like going outside together was like, the worst possible thing that could happen to you!"

You stare at her for a moment, mouth open and eyes wide. "You're making stuff up at this point! I never did that! I was just thinking about you. Cauldron forbid I care about what you want, Mor!"

You shake your head, your heart is hammering and you're starting to feel the uncomfortable sensation of tears gathering in your eyes and a lump forming in your throat.

When you turn to walk away, before it gets any worse, Mor grabs you again.

"Don't walk away from me! What in the gods name are you even talking about? You seriously think work is all I care about? You know me better than that." She sounds hurt, and angry, but you can't imagine she feels those things anywhere near the same degree as you do.

You sigh, losing the edge to your voice, a tear finally leaking from one of your eyes. "No, Mor, I don't think that. But I do know that being with me, living with me, isn't what you thought it would be. I wanted to save you from that today, that's all."

She stops dead in her tracks, her pacing coming to an abrupt end as she stares at you like she doesn't even recognize you. "What are you even saying, Y/N? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I gave you space last night, and I tried to this morning, so I wasn't too clingy for you," you put emphasis on that word like it was damning you. "But all it did was make you bitter towards me today, Mor. So I'm not sure what else I can do."

Again, she stares at you like she has no idea what's going on. And then, you see it click. Her features slowly grow from angry to sad, and she closes her eyes, tilting her head down. She looks ashamed, like she wishes she hadn't been caught.

A few more tears run down your face, and you swipe them away with your fingers, trying to calm your shaking hands.

"I didn't want to fight about this, Mor, I never did. I heard something I wasn't supposed to. I can't change how you feel, but I can change how I act. Can we just leave this alone? I won't be as clingy, but I need you to stop treating me like I've done something wrong." Your voice is hardly a whisper, and you're turning to leave the foyer you've been having this confrontation in before, for the third time, Mor grabs your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

You don't look at her as she says, "Baby, I am so, so, so sorry," her voice cracks, and the sound of her so upset breaks your heart, despite her being the reason yours has been broken since the night before. "Please, Y/N. let me explain."

You shake your head, pulling your arm away, but she doesn't let go. "There's nothing to explain, Mor. I heard you clearly last night. As much as I wish you had spoken to me about this, rather than embarrass me in front of our friends, what's done is done. You can't change how you feel."

Just as you said to her, moments before, Mor asks, "Y/N, please look at me."

You pull your watery eyes to hers, and truly, she looks devastated.

"That's not how I feel, Y/N."

You smile softly at her, putting your hand on top of the one holding your arm. You push her grasp away, saying, "Mor, of course you do. I'm suffocating, I see that now. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, bu-"

Mor's cutting you off before you finish. "No! Y/N, I mean it. I do not think you're clingy, I was an idiot to say that."

Before she can continue, you stop her with a hand raised. "Mor, seriously, this is just making it worse. We can figure out how to make this relationship work better, later. I really don't want to talk about it anymore."

Finally releasing yourself from the hold she's had on you, you make your way into the kitchen.

And, of course, your stubborn mate follows you. She watches as you pull supplies from the fridge, meat and cheese and lettuce and other things required for a sandwich.

You spot her chewing on her thumbnail, her newly painted nail, as she watches you.

You sigh as you pull the bread from the cupboard. "Do you want a sandwich, Mor?"

"I want to talk, Y/N. I want to explain, I want to make this right. Please, baby, let me explain." Her voice is pleading, and she sounds close to the tears you were in just moments ago.

You slam two slices of bread onto a plate more forcefully than necessary. "I said I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please, Mor. Enough."

She seems to understand how serious you are, and she doesn't push you any further. She sits at the table as you prepare your lunch, and because you love her very much, and you know she hasn't eaten, you fix her one, too.

---

The day moves slowly, the two of you sticking to doing your own things. You find that the day is easier now that she knows what you know, that it's easier to breathe knowing you've said what you needed to say.

Mor hovers around you, but she doesn't push you to speak anymore. When you leave to sit by the fire in the living room, she moves to the couch with a book in hand. When you decide to work on clearing your front porch of snow, she joins you, shovel in hand and wordless. When you take a hot bath after, she waits in the bedroom, tidying until you're done. When dinner comes around, it's her that makes you a meal, and you nod your head in thanks, the two of you eating her stew in silence.

Long after the sun has gone down, you're in your bedroom, pulling a sweatshirt, matching to your sweatpants, over your head.

The door creaks open, and Mor walks in, both your book and hers in hand. Her face still looks devastated, you've been enduring the radiating guilt, shame, sadness, and disappointment from the bond all day. The only thing stopping you from kissing the hurt from her face is your own hurt, still aching, but a little less raw.

Mor sets the books down on her bedside table, and you can tell she's not going to let the two of you sleep tonight unless she's said her piece.

As much as you'd rather forget about this day, you know that tensions will only grow if you don't allow her to say whatever it is she wants to say, whatever it is she thinks will make this better.

You pull the covers back, settling on the bed. "Can you hand me my book, Mor?"

"Y/N..." Her voice is quiet. She's still standing, like she's afraid that if she gets too close, you'll run away.

You sigh, looking her in the eyes. You're surprised to see them welling with tears, her bottom lip trembling.

Your face scrunches, and you reach a hand out to her. "Mor, don't cry..." Your voice trails off, confusion lacing your tone.

She crumbles at your outstretched hand, like the acceptance is something she thought she'd lost forever. Like she's relieved that you still want her.

She collapses onto the bed, grabbing your hand, crying in earnest now. "I-I'm so sorry, Y/N, I swear to the gods I d-didn't mean what I s-s-said."

You can hardly understand her, and you run a hand through her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"Mor, please, you don't have to explain yourself... I just want to move on from this."

That makes her cry harder, she's burying her face in your shoulder, shaking her head in refusal. "No! I d-don't want to move on from this, I want to make it r-right," she hiccups on a sob before continuing, "if you'll let me, p-please."

You sigh, kissing her hairline, urging her to pull back and look at you. "Honestly, Mor, I think it'll just hurt worse if you explain why I'm too clingy. I wish you'd just let us change how this," you gesture between the two of you, "works. No hard feelings that way, really."

Mor's face grows frustrated, her tears spilling down her cheeks rapidly. She sniffles, and grits out, "No. I-I don't want anything to c-change!"

"Mor, reall-"

She cuts you off before you can go on. "Y/N, p-please, just listen to me right now. I know I don't d-deserve it, b-but..."

Seeing her so upset, hearing the heartbreak in her voice, the sight of her red and puffy face from crying so hard, it makes you give in. You nod, signaling to her that she can continue, that you'll listen and you'll try to understand.

You brace yourself for the hurt, for her to explain how she feels suffocated by you, that you're too overbearing, just too clingy. You're ready for her to tell you that she loves you, because you know that she does, but that she just needs some space.

She doesn't, though.

She takes a deep breath in, bringing her hands up to rub at her wet cheeks, closing her eyes and collecting herself for a moment.

"Y/N, I-I have no excuse, for talking about you that way, in front of our friends."

She opens her eyes and looks deep into yours, waiting to see if you're going to stop her. When you make no move to interrupt, she continues.

"I... I am not good at this," she gestures between the both of you, then takes your hand into her own. "I'm not good at... being someone's mate."

You go to stop her, to scold her for thinking that way. She's perfect, the two of you literally made for one another. You'd not change a thing about her, and so far, your relationship had been virtually perfect. But, you swore to listen, so you refrain from stopping her.

"I never thought I'd meet my mate, and... for it to be a woman..." she trails off, and she doesn't have to elaborate on what she means by that. While your friends, your family, have been nothing but accepting and supportive, the same cannot be said for the rest of the world. Generally, Velaris, the Night Court, is open-minded, unfazed by any sort of queerness. And she decided, the moment she met you, she was done hiding her affections for women. She would not hide her mate, both you and her deserved better. But, Mor has seen the worst of other courts, of other people. She's seen terrible things happen to people for not being able to control who they love. She has always, always, been so protective of you, of the relationship the two of you have. It's made her guarded. Even around people she loves and trusts, she finds it difficult to be open and honest about the relationship the two of you have. She's opted for privacy in order to ensure protection. You know that, and it has never bothered you, because of course, you understand it.

"I am still... figuring this all out. How to navigate this, how to be more happy than scared." She pulls your hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to your soft skin. You smile softly at her, and cup her face, stroking her cheek with your thumb, soothing the still reddened skin despite the tears being nearly gone.

She leans into the touch, and again, she takes a deep inhale, like she's in need of being grounded.

"When they asked me today, how things are going... I-I just... I couldn't be honest." Her voice cracks at the end, and you dread having to see her beautiful face in tears again.

"Y/N, I swear to you, everything is perfect."

"Mor..." you sigh, worried she's just trying to make you feel better about all of this, worried she isn't really thinking of what would make her happier.

"No, Y/N, I mean it. Everything about you, about us... it's perfect," she moves to hold your hand to her face with both of hers, turning to press a kiss into your palm.

"I know it shouldn't, because they're our friends, our family... but it made me uncomfortable, the idea of gushing to them about us."

You give her a curious look, but you say nothing.

"It feels like, if anyone knows how perfect this is, how happy we are... someone will rip it away from us, from me."

And that, that breaks your heart. "Oh, Mor..." you coo, sitting up straighter, holding her face in both of your hands now.

"I really, really, really, have no excuse for what I said. You are not too clingy, Y/N. In fact, I sometimes wish we could be even closer."

You huff a small laugh at that, shaking your head and smiling. "Mor, it's okay, really."

She refuses to let you forgive her so easily, though. "It's not okay, baby. You're my mate, you're it for me. The only thing I'll ever want in life. I don't want to hide that, especially not from our friends. You deserve to be spoken about in truth, about how amazing you are, how easy it is to love you, how I miss you every second we aren't together."

It's your turn to tear up now, and you send a flood of love and adoration down the bond.

"I lied to them, because acting like everything isn't perfect was easier than feeling vulnerable. I treated you terribly, and in front of our friends, too... I am so, so sorry, baby."

You feel nothing but love and sincerity from the bond, no sign that she's lying, that she's just saying this to spare your feelings. You believe her, of course. She's poured her heart out to you, she's chosen uncomfortable vulnerability in order to make sure you know how loved you are.

Hearing what she said about you, knowing she said it to your friends too, it hurt. But, you know she's learned from this. You know that she truly feels terrible, and you now know that she thinks your relationship is just as incredible as you do. You hold no anger anymore, and the only thing left to make you sad is how upset your mate still looks.

"Mor, my love, I forgive you, it's alright." You learn forward, until your forehead is resting on hers. Her eyes flutter shut, and she releases a breath she was holding.

"You do?" She whispers.

You kiss her gently in response. "Mor, I forgave you a while ago. I wasn't angry so much as I was hurt."

She grimaces, knowing how badly she hurt you, but you soothe her with another peck to her lips.

"I understand, Mor. I do. I hope that next time, though, you'll just be honest," she nods against you, a promise to do right by you. "Or, if you cannot, I hope that you'll choose to hold off on answering, until you can talk about us."

"Of course, my love, this will never happen again."

You hum, plant a kiss to her forehead, and pull away. "I know it won't, sweetheart. Thank you, for being honest, and for apologizing."

A few seconds pass in comfortable silence, the two of you just enjoying the feeling of being close again.

Then, Mor speaks. "So.... you'll greet me at the door when I come in?" She asks.

"I will, every day, with a kiss." You emphasize your answer with kisses to her cheek, her nose, her lips.

She giggles and pulls away. "And you'll let me help with dinner? And you'll tell me about your day while we eat?"

"Yes, baby."

"And you'll stay up late and cuddle on the couch with me?"

"Hmm, what if I get tired?" You tease.

She pouts at you, but it's in jest. "You'll lay on my chest, and I'll wake you up when it's time to go to bed."

"I suppose that'll work..." a smirk is evident in your voice, and Mor kisses it quickly.

"And you'll cuddle with me in bed, all night?"

"All night."

"And you'll spend snow days outside with me? And take hot baths with me after?"

"I'd love nothing more."

"And you'll always talk to me, if I've done something to upset you? You'll always tell me how you're feeling?"

"I will, Mor, I promise."

She smiles, and wraps her arms around you. She pulls you down to the bed with her, and you nuzzle your face into her neck, planting a kiss to her warm skin. She tugs on your bond, teasing and gentle. A feeling settles over the both of you. It's warm and sweet, the distinct feeling that all is well.

---

A/N: This ended up being way longer than I meant it to be! I hope you all enjoy, angst isn't my usual but I wanted to give it a try. And of course, requests are always welcome! :)

[ficoandleo]

I have mega ADHD so I forget things easily and have a hard time settling down and doing stuff. I don't remember everyone who deactivates or goes inactive. And I know I should express my love more for people who are currently around--i'd like to do that someday too!! But idk i kinda wanted to shout out to some of the people who deactivated/disappeared, especially recently, in the off chance they see this and know i love them lol

@battyoldman let's start with you because whether or not you decide to stick around you're kind of the most recent. I really hope you just need some time away for your mental health and, if this is something you'd like to continue doing, if it's something you enjoy, that you come back and keep blessing us with your presence. Your Ed is so. Silly and fun and chill and perfect. The video and movie titles you'd come up with are so befitting of his goofy conspiracy interests. You have really captured that old man's essence, in my opinion. Your interactions with Rui were so seamless I figured you were in one of the discord servers and already knew each other and you were just growing and exploring a relationship you'd already practiced in another setting. Honestly everything felt so seamless on your end when I saw you interact with others and when I got to interact with you--Ed was so largely unphased by everyone's shit and distaste for him(up until Towa said he was bad at sucking dick, he was not taking that lying down--) and the way he entertained himself with everyone's affairs. . .he really had the feeling of lying away in his tower, entertained by the humans. 10/10, if it's still fun for you I hope you won't leave us because we will miss you.

@ask-kaito-fuji i didn't get to interact with you much WHICH IS A SHAME. Your Kaito is so cute and he's. Really trying he felt so solid and charming and just awkward enough and I love the way you let him interact with posts that were ooc too because lbr he loves social media! He would be vibing out on tumblr!! It felt like he was this close to realizing he was in the matrix sometimes. Seeing people know a bunch of stuff and going 'why/how do you know so much it's so creepy!!' was delightful, and getting to personally chat with him once or twice was also very fun. 10/10 you brought the party to other people and you captured the character very well. His PDL is coming up though, so you may wanna hide him /joke

@frostheimking so your blog is gone but not deactivated(deactivated tumblrs have '-deactivated' and a string of numbers on the end of them and you can often still ping them) which, to me, reeks of Tumblr being stupid because I've seen that happen to multiple people before. I don't think you're gone on purpose, I assume there was a bad spam deletion somewhere or an alleged break of the rules because I've seen that happen before. So I'm hoping you either get the blog back or remake because, while you weren't around often because lbr it's slow around here for the most part, I loved your Jin??? I don't just mean because he was kinda flirting with Romeo, he was snappy and cold and. Idk he really felt like Jin. That's the best way I can think to word it, you captured his character from what I could see. I enjoyed our interactions and I enjoyed the ones you had with others too! I was looking forward to exploring Romeo and Jin's history and dynamic with you quite a bit haha. HOPEFULLY YOU GET YOUR BLOG BACK or remake if you're interested!! 10/10 tumblr fix your shit there's unfinished business--

@leo-brat-kurosagi-deactivated20 hey. You. You are far more Leo than I am lmao. I DO NOT HAVE THE MENTAL CAPACITY TO BE THE MEAN LEO THAT YOU WERE. I WISH I COULD BE AS SNARKY AND BRILLIANT. You weren't around super long and you didn't get to have a ton of interactions or answer a lot of asks but like. How do I say that I could just kind of tell what kind of potential was there for something great??? You handled him very well in the time you played him. You lived up to being a little brat for sure.

@sinostracasino-deactivated20241 YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE VISCERAL REACTION OF WHAT NO WHY COME BACK THAT I FELT SEEING YOU GONE. You were hilarious and fun and silly and also a good writer as I recall. Your Taiga had great energy and this underlying tension to him and we would have dug into that Taiga doesn't care about himself if Romeo wasn't afraid to do so. I was looking forward to them having some great, stupid, cyclical arguments, maybe a shootout, maybe eventually getting back together a little. And maybe a little something for that birthday trip to Rui's bar. And his chemistry and interactions with others and with anons were fun??? Immediately warming up to Towa? Teasing the honor students?? The little bit of 'bickering' with Ritsu? Also the way you tagged some of your reblogs god. 10/10 Taiga, he owes so much child support.

. . .those are the ones off the top of my head, mostly recent, which isn't to say I don't see or recognize or have appreciation for others not being around a lot or going away(like @/ask-lucas-errant who did answer an ask recently-ish, who isn't too active but that's probably because of lack of asks/interaction; @/shiranami-ren who I figure isn't around much because they draw a lot of their answers and that's a bit more intensive of a way to run their blog--amazing stuff and very much the classic way to do this from the old days, I would absolutely do the same if I could draw; and the Lycas who deleted probably because of inactivity) all of whom have/had great presentation for their characters and handled them well but. Idk. Maybe i ended up posting mostly people 'closer' to me in this context haha. . . .

I wish this fandom was bigger and more active with sending asks and stuff because I feel like that's a big contributor to people falling off or deleting, and I wish I were more consistent with asks and responses and better at sending asks myself because I could be the change I want to see in the world. (I feel like the asks I send have to be, like, good. Like I appreciate getting simple and basic asks but I feel like I need to ask Big Headcanon Questions or something.) But I know everyone's got their own lives and their own things going on so I'm not going to pretend I know what's going on with everyone, y'know? More than anything I hope everyone--active, inactive, deleted, or otherwise--is happy and safe and comfortable where they are and that the ones who've dropped off didn't do so because of anything bad or any kind of discouragement. Sometimes we lose interest in things and that's more than fine. Or life is busy. I hope you're all doing well. I miss you! I'm sure I'm not the only one!

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Song Rankings (+ commentary nobody asked for): "BTR"

I was bored. Decided to go through their albums and put them into a list from favorite to least favorite.

"Worldwide": Is it possible this song is overrated and hyped too much? No. This song was on heavy rotation for me from the moment I heard it. Wonderful song, 10/10. Full of love and yearning. Their all white outfits in the music video? Iconic. My mom's friend's daughter went to one of their shows and was picked as the Worldwide Girl, and young me didn't handle that well (I wasn't even AT the concert, so not like I had a chance, but still). I'm almost over it.

"Til I Forget About You": When they would show the music video for this during commercial breaks on Nick, I would leap from the couch and do the dance along with them. There used to be a good analysis post breaking down each of the boys' sections in the song and how it correlates with their personalities in the show and how they deal with heartbreak (there's also one for "Famous" that does the same).

"Big Time Rush": I used to sit on the school bus and stare blankly out the window listening to this one on repeat at like 7:45 in the morning. Just...not even awake yet but psyching myself up to live it big time.

"Famous": This one is pretty much tied with "Big Time Rush" in my head, and I'm tempted to bump it to 3, but the song's theme ultimately wins out. Love this song. Can't help but see it in a weirdly haunting light due to the above mentioned "Famous Analysis" post that I read over and over when I was younger and changed the way I saw the song from that point on. Thank you to Swedish girl-group Play for giving us this song. (I assume most people in the fandom have seen or heard the Play version already but if not, check it out)

"Halfway There": Ok, so. I love this song, but EVERY TIME I listen to it, I'm filled with slight annoyance over the fact that it's the "different" version than was originally released. When this single was released, it was KENDALL who sang the opening lines ("When the chips are down, back against the wall" etc) and then James who did his part later. That's the version I listened to for months before they got rid of it and replaced it with the version that appeared on their album. It was a jarring experience for me, and I've never quite fully recovered. The song will forever sound slightly wrong to me because of it.

"Stuck": Prior to starting this blog and doing the rewatch, I hadn't heard a lot of their songs for years, and I had completely forgotten this one existed. Like, it had been wiped from my brain. Rediscovering it was fun.

"City is Ours": Fun fact-my sister is scarred for life from this song and can no longer listen to it because when she was younger, she used it as her alarm tone to get up for school. It's forever associated with waking up in a panic early in the morning and has been ruined for her since the show's original run.

"This is Our Someday": I feel like this song is one of those forgotten ones. I don't remember it being big either in the show or outside of it back in the day (and it has the second lowest listens on Spotify). I do like it, though. Such a hopeful tune, and the line, "One is good, but four is better?" That's a good one. So true, guys.

"Count on You": This is a sweet one. I LOVE the music video for it in the Jordin Sparks episode. It's just. It's smooth. It feels like silk in my brain, though it's not one of my faves. I especially like how Logan's part, "What would I wanna do that for?" comes right at the "four" mark in their counting. Very nice.

"Big Night": Was never really a fan of this one because something about the way the music is structured bothers me but it's super sing-able, so it gets some props for that.

"I Know You Know": This one was going to be number 12, but it gets a bump up due to the acoustic version from '22 giving me slightly more appreciation for it. My original list didn't even include this song because I totally forgot about it until just now when I was going through the album.

"Oh Yeah": Not much to say about this one. I didn't really listen to it when I was younger because it was a "James song" and he was my least favorite of the guys singing-wise. (I am SORRY James stans) Love the spinning Logan head in the music video, though. I remember the fandom really enjoying that part.

"Nothing Even Matters": I simply don't have feelings about this song one way or another. It's just there.

"Any Kind of Guy": I have bizarre issues with this song. Gives me sensations of unpleasant colors and patterns. Zig-zaggy and burnt orange and brown. Bleh. Last place for "Any Kind of Guy." I think the silly music video with all the costumes didn't help.

[icepoptroll]

I had a birthday recently soooo here's an updated about post!!

Hey everyone. I'm Bunny. I use she/they pronouns. I'm 27 (total fandom grandma I knooooow). I'm a night shift home health nurse by trade (in the wise words of Penn Jillette, "I haven't slept in so long that I'm. . . . Really tired." Lmao) but I do a lot of art and writing, particularly for the Ride the Cyclone fandom. I'm also very much into other musicals too (Wicked and Hadestown are two of my favorites). I make serious art but I also make lots of silly goofy content because I'm a bit of a party clown.

I'm pretty extroverted and love talking with people so feel free to send me asks. I promise I'm super nice lol

Tá mé ag foghlaim na Gaeilge (or at least trying to, lol) if there are any potential buddies who are looking for someone to learn Irish with hmu!!

I use an iPad and Procreate to make my art. You'll never see me use AI. I do have very strong opinions about this.

I also spent the past couple of months participating in the June Doe event, a 30-day RTC fandom event that takes place during June for content creators in the fandom to put out art, writing, or any other type of creative expression. You can see my submissions here. I had the absolute time of my life and I can't wait for next year!!

I run @enter-the-rickyverse , come check out all the Rickies that I gone and done

Some stuff I like:

RTC of course

Hadestown

Lots of other musicals (I live close to New York so I've seen a good amount of Broadway shows, I've also seen Wicked, Book of Mormon, Phantom of the Opera, Kinky Boots, Avenue Q, Chicago, and Kimberly Akimbo live)

Impractical Jokers!!! (I miss you Joe Gatto my beloved please come back)

Penn and Teller (my emotional support geriatric magicians, your honor)

Homestuck

Star Trek (pretty much any series)

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

bunnies

stuff pertaining to nursing (I wholeheartedly love my job, it gives me the means to live a very full, happy life!!)

I love music (I like too many artists to list, my taste is very eclectic, but if you ever want recs lmk)

Cartoons!!! (but especially stuff that was around when I was a kid, like classic Spongebob!! I am constantly making Spongebob references lmao)

LGBTQ topics

Interested in exploring atheopaganism and similar spiritualities

Basically I hope for my blog to be a safe, fun space. I love to make friends and I'm always open to answering asks from curious minds lol

Be safe, my friends, be good ✌🏻🤟🏻🖖🏻

[secret-subject]

Do You Ever Just Forget How To Do Hypnosis?

Not even joking. This isn't some sort of shit-post I promise, but sometimes with ADHD brain going brrrr I will get into my hypnosis thing whether it be a script or a live scene and my brian will just go:

"hey are you sure you actually remember how to do hypnosis?"

So the question is, how do we combat this feeling? Because let's be honest it's one that is not rational nor required when you are tisting on the regular and like me have a busy work schedule of giving people the hypnosis feels. (As a quick side note, in a scene with a trusted partner it would be hot af to have your ability to "fight back" with hypnosis taken away, especially if you were both switches with sticky fingers and brains, but I'm going to pocket that for another time...)

Step one: Take a break! I'm not even kidding. I know when my battery is dead energy wise I am more prone to this kind of thinking. Maybe you are tired or overworked as a dominant/top (the person doing the hypnosis doesn't always have to be dominant). I know people who can literally do scene after scene after scene, and that has never been me. I literally went three years without hypnotizing anyone outside of making audios and livestreaming, including my wife, because I was chronically ill and just worn down. You can't be a super tist if you aren't taking care of yourself. So, take a break. Look after yourself. If you aren't doing that it could be a sign that burnout is coming, or approaching and you need to protect yourself. Never be afraid to say "that's enough". Many times I've hit my limit not only long term but mid scene as a Domme. It's okay and it's very normal and I wish we spoke about it more.

Step two: Try something new! Sometimes, I get stuck in a rut of doing the same thing over and over. I love repetition and conditioning using it is fun but wow, it can get boring for everyone. So this feeling could be a sign it's time to read some smut, listen to some audios, read the blogs and try something new. It might not work, but it might also be the best thing you've ever done. Recently I also have been sending tiny audios to friends based on whims or ideas I've been thinking of. This is a great way to test something new, low stakes, and play around. I also recommend having people you can talk to. I love to befriend other hypnosis creators and community members because not only are they just "built different" and fun to be around but also I can hear them talk about their passions, which reignites mine and we can pool ideas.

Set three: Read some resources! Education is so important in this scene. Now that doesn't mean do what I did and go to a certifcation course, I don't think people outside of people wanting to be a professional hypnotist should do this. But it is important to refresh your knowledge and not be afraid to learn. Now I am an ex-teacher so I am biased as hell about the importance of education, but, it's not hard to upgrade your skills with a little education. Mind Play is a great book, I always recommend it for being simple to read. Go to a class at a convention or locally (they have them online too so you can access them even in places far away like New Zealand). Join a hypnosis discord with discussion rooms or groups. Talk to others about their experiences. Watch a YouTube video on hypnosis. Listen to podcasts about it. These are all educational tools for upgrading your skills and even if like me you've been doing this for an eternity (or what feels like it) you can still refresh your skills and maybe you might learn something that helps get you out of that funk.

So these are just some of the things that help when my brain decides to gaslight me into thinking I am terrible at this. I know this is never going to be one side fits all but I think it's important to talk about imposter syndrome from all sides of the watch.

Have you ever felt like this? And if so what did you do about it? I'd love to keep this conversation going!

-Secret

[sainz100]

just emoting under the cut, I gotta get some personal feelings about tumblr off my chest ahh

I am so used to being alone that I've forgotten how to make friends!! which isn't to say I don't love talking, omg I love when you meet someone you can 'yes, and' with, who you can gush about your faves with, to create wild things together, and to listen to one another when things get hard ❤️❤️‍🩹

but as much as I love those things, the initial ice breaking for me in the virtual world is so hard, especially now since so many people I admire followed me back!! 😵‍💫💦 I feel like I'm behind glass but also so scared I'll do something annoying or wrong when I venture out, that people will leave and I'll be alone again

which is not true!! everyone should blog and create what's true to their heart ❤️ and everyone is free to curate their space (not being mutuals doesn't mean you can't be friends! maybe someone just has a certain driver who gives them the ick or maybe they want to follow only aesthetic blogs or maybe they only want close-close pals on the TL, etc etc!) being followed is not a sign of approval or validation that you're good, because you are! (I'm telling myself this!!)

It's more that, I get so nervous. Maybe I'll like and reblog too much or maybe I'll ask something silly. I feel like I am so woefully behind on reading especially, and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings that I can't catch up fast enough...or maybe everyone will move on to something new. which is fine, too! and good!! F1 especially with Daniel has been kinda heartbreaking recently. If it's not fun, folks will move on.

but for a few months, it felt so special. To be here for Spa, for Daniel's races, to feel good that I could find things that made people happy, to feel so close to being a part of something, it was so unreal!! ✨

now it's over. and I can keep diving into the past. (I do love to search [especially since it's something I can do at the office on the fly!! or when I'm so absolutely empty after work, mindlessly looking around for something] and I can search for things when the season comes back and I love to gif special events in the off season) but I keep opening this app and feeling so empty, like I'm doing it wrong

and when I do open up, I do it on other blogs, and I get so sad like "ahhh maybe I should've just done it here!!" instead of breaking up pieces of me all over the dang place and getting sad that no one knows who I am

anyways, I think I'm overthinking it! I am! It's not this deep, but it does mean so much to me. And I'm just scared I'll do something wrong, a self-fulfilling prophecy! I used to be so active in a fan discord for a musician (Käärijä, if you're curious!) and I got this same feeling of not knowing how to connect or feeling like I'd make a mistake when everyone there was so lovely 🥺 I kinda can't stand Käärijä anymore, so I didn't go back. I left when I was getting out of a hard living situation irl. I still feel so bad for not going back to properly say goodbye. Life just got so busy

and it is hard irl, I am always at work in an empty office (everyone else is remote!) and then I go home to an empty apartment (just moi!) and see friends on scant weekends (which I treasure!) but all that is to say that I'm sorry!! I'm trying to get life rebalanced, and I keep thinking I can't make friends until I've got life figured out!! also not true!! We're all figuring things out, and we'll be figuring things out forever, there is no "ahh I'm done growing! Now I can enjoy life!"

tl;dr!!!!!!! I'm still figuring things out ❤️ and I will try to connect while I grow 🌱 every kind message and tag and note means so much. I'm wanting to send more out to you too!! I want to reach out, and I'm learning how to do that again, so thank you for being patient with me (especially if you read all this ahh!! I love you!!) ❤️❤️❤️

anyways Autumn out!!!! and I'm not even going to overthink this big old post like I usually do (not every message and tag or post or fic needs to be overwrought like its make or break!!) it's just me. We're all just being ourselves here on tumblr and that's so wonderful, that's the part that matters most!! ❤️✨

[puppy-phum]

tag game ✨

thanks for tagging me zey @thasorns ♥ i teared up at your addition about me, that is so sweet :( i miss our dff talks too! idk what you're into these days but would love to talk about some show with you again :')

-

1. why did you choose your url?

bc am obsessed with one (1) man who belongs to another amazing guy ♥ (been thinking about an url change lately tho bc i'd like to put last twilight and the hurt it caused behind me but haven't found something else to tie myself to yet. maybe we are and phumpeem if the ending delivers?)

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

not really. the only side blog i have is my og url vishcount saved for nostalgia purposes but there's nothing on that blog

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

started on this hellsite (affectionate) on the lord's year 2013 and it shows

4. do you have a queue tag?

i don't use the queue much so no. you will only catch me reblogging like ten posts in a row when am online/in the mood and then going back to lurking again

5. why did you start your blog in the first place? 

i was into a bunch of animes and tumblr was filled with amazing fanart. i wanted to be able to look at them in peace

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

to show who my url is about ♥ mork my beloved

7. why did you choose your header?

wanted it to fit the theme. also i adore the last twilight rooftop kiss, it's one of the brightest spots of the show

8. what’s your post with the most notes? 

most likely this the untamed edit from 2020. i was truly living my peak back then :'D tbh i feel like the whole of tumblr was living its peak when the untamed was airing and when we all lost it together for the longest time after

9. how many mutuals do you have?

way too many and i adore all of them, tho i probably forget or cannot recognize most of them. especially if you've changed your url/main fandom OR i have, we might not even know each other anymore haha

10. how many followers do you have?

more than i deserve and idk what all of you are even doing here but i like feeling like i'm part of some type of crowd ♥

11. how many people do you follow?

quite recently i unfollowed some inactive blogs and blogs about things i don't really care for anymore so my follow count is a nice number of 205

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

uh. i don't really know? do some posts from my finnish tumblr (suomitumppu) era count? :'D

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

am chronically online and i open this app like a fridge

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

no, not really. am not really one to share strong opinions, especially negative opinions, publicly online which i think is the cause of most arguments ppl have here. i'd rather just keep my peace and be nice

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts 

mostly i don't like doing things when am told to do them

16. do you like tag games?

yes! it always makes me happy to know that someone is thinking about me and i do find these a lot of fun to do ^^

17. do you like ask games?

also yes. i just don't often reblog those bc i don't really have a lot of interactions on this site. if i find an ask game with very interesting questions, i might forward it to kiddo @i-am-just-a-kiddo and we do it together privately to enjoy it like that ♥

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

the first one that comes to mind is hanyi @ruanbaijie who i think deserves all the recognition for her absolutely amazing giffing skills ♥ she's also the sweetest so idk what's not to follow, make her even more famous if you can!

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

nope. idk if i function like that tbh. i have some huge friend crushes tho and want to be closer with some ppl a lot! not mentioning names bc am shy haha

but i want to say that monica @stormyoceans is very important to me these days. she brightens up my days and makes my whole fandom experience so much better by simply being her enthusiastic and authentic self ♥ never change!

and also jessi @oswlld who i still cannot believe is someone i can call my friend and bestie on this site. i am so happy we've gotten to share bad buddy, vice versa, and last twilight together! also happy to hear about your life at times and to just share silly things with you ♥

third one i want to mention is shannen @icouldhyperfixatehim who always manages to stand out in a positive way. we don't interact much but i cannot help but feel very giddy about their presence on my dash. they leave the best tags and every time they reblog any of my edits with their tags, they manage to make me feel like i've made it and my edit was worth the effort :'D so thank you!

20. tags?

want to tag at least @psychic-waffles @foxofninetales @hils79 @sherrymagic @srnileforme and @thitiponqs ♥ also the ones i mentioned before are free to join and anyone else who wants to do this!

[mallowmaenad]

Tumblr in the Guilty Gear Universe

💉doctor-feelgood Follow

If you support gear rights you're literally asking for another crusade. Those things are bioweapons and shouldn't be walking around in public especially where people have their kids and elderly.

🐲 dragon-is-smol Follow

You are literally a dr. baldhead rpf blog

🔮band-refrence Follow

I don't care what chronically online leftists have to say about Zepp using black tech is bad for the environment and could potentially bring stuff in from the backyard. You want eldritch horrors? Because that's how you get eldritch horrors.

🛠️steam-ingenious Follow

my president can beat your president in a fight

🔮band-refrence

That's not going to fucking matter when we're all choking on your fucking smoke and reality as we know it is falling apart because your stupid blimp country won't stop violating UN laws.

🛠️steam-ingenious

^^^wizardcel malding at perfectly constructed Zepp nuclear power plants because they need a 8 year degree to get a license to mod Dwarf Fortress.

📖 magic-the-gabbering Follow

This site is almost 200 years old and the discourse is still the same. Sigh. I miss MySpace.

⚓dolphingirldick Follow

OP arent you supposed to be in prison for all those warcrimes you did

📖 magic-the-gabbering

Those are my children and I'd prefer you not speak about them that way, but yes I am currently serving out my sentence in a maximum security prison I'm just also telepathically dictating my posts to my identical clone.

🟦 teal-album Follow

PSA Everyone block and report @burger-enjoyer , she was an active participant in Sanctus Maximus Populi Ariels' omnicide against mankind and works for the Illyrian military and I'm pretty sure she literally lives with the royal family.

🍔burger-enjoyer Follow

im only a few months old...

🤡 mandatory-fun Follow

don't you need to be like 14 or something to make a tumblr account?

🍔burger-enjoyer

I was born at a very old age...

🛍️destructive-goodwill Follow

I wana a vote onthe polls,,, but im an onest man so i canne only tap. bald option.

👹kingglizzy Follow

"18+ only or I block" mfs are literally so fucking gearphobic we just got free will less than a decade ago and ur saying I can't finger myself to some anime milf titties cause it took me less time to come out of a test tube than it took 4 u to buy cigarettes???

👨‍🏫backyard-baseball-2186 Follow

thats for humans dude

👹kingglizzy

king kiske's son is 3 years old and looks like a pirate on steroids i dont wanna hear it

🌚entered-sandman Follow

Honestly for a micro-blogging platform this place is pitiful. People are too busy arguing over petty minutiae of political views they ultimately agree on to get even the smallest ideological upper hand. For what? It's not like you're getting anywhere squabbling with fandom bloggers about what flavor of anarcho-marxist-leninist-maoism should triumph when some supposed "revolution" comes about. Not like any weak-willed discourse-spewing ingrates on this site actually has the strength to back up their ideals. I think I will go on a years-long hiatus and only return to see how you roaches have amused yourselves arguing about which character from a television show has the purest vision of a utopian society or should be arrested for sexual assault then promptly delete my account when I am through laughing at the pathetic excuse for social media posts you tumblrites serve up.

🌚entered-sandman

$##*&??/70!\)61¢@@^69<p_($6E%

⚙️ultimate-gear-chaser Follow

this guy stopped posting because he ran out of words

🏳️‍⚧️21centurycannaboidgirl Follow

girlies please stop comparing yourself to Bridget she's been on puberty blockers and E since she was a child and has rich parents

🌝hotlinebing Follow

im pretty sure Bridget never said he was even trans to begin with, can we not erase GNC men from the conversation?

🏳️‍⚧️21centurycannaboidgirl

im not having this conversation POTEMKIN BUSTER

🐍forcedragonned Follow

folks on this site are trying to cancel me for saying the gear-maker is sexy because i'm half-gear like that's the same thing as incest he didn't fuckin make me in a lab like some sort of frankenstein I was born in fucking Syracuse.

🛢️oozey-oozeborne Follow

youre tryna ride that peepaw dick.

🐍forcedragonned Follow

I am tryna ride that peepaw dick.

⛅here-comes-the-sun Follow

I think I just saw one of my followers post a deepfake of Potemkin beating up King Kiske?? This is why we need to make Arcane Intelligence image generators illegal.

🏳️‍⚧️21centurycannaboidgirl Follow

no that was real.

❌kurtcobalt6 Follow

tumblr banned me for my awesome and epic bunny dronification pics so I promise to only post circumcised smurf penis from now on.

🍲potroast-buster Follow

aren't you that user that paints his dick blue to get around the censor bot thingy?

❌kurtcobalt6

August 9th 2213.

🔐masterlockslut Follow

i cant handle those jokes about peeple with short attenchon spans if u jingle keys in front of me i am going to cum.

🍭scissormysister Follow

Hey OP

🔐masterlockslut

im in a monogamus relashonship plz dont flirt with mee. now i need to go relief myself on my hubby's teeth to calm down and reyafirm our bond

[intheholler]

I'm finding myself having less and less patience with people who make fun of Southerners and Appalachians (and rural people in general, though I do find it interesting how they always use our accents to mock all rural Americans...)

I follow a few Appalachian creators on tiktok who post recipes and the comments on their videos are always full of people making fun of their accents. "Um, where can I find 'oll'? I went to the store and all they had was oil 😂" or "'Worsh' must be some new technique I've never heard of!" Or even just basic insinuation that the creator isn't smart and that the food looks gross. It's annoying. I always wanna shake these people and make them remember that making fun of someone's culture is shitty! Just because they've been taught not to respect our culture doesn't mean it's not one.

I do also see lots of comments from the other side, though! Things like "You sound like my mamaw! 🥰" or "As soon as I heard you say 'cast iron' like that I knew the recipe was gonna be good' or "Ooh, nobody can make cabbage taste good like someone from the holler!"

I love seeing the kind of pride that comes from leftists like me who grew up there. I love living outside of Appalachia and making the people around me hear my accent and eating my recipes. I love thinking about the gifts that our home has given to people all over the world: foods, technology, music, inventions.

Basically, thanks for your blog. I love the perspective you bring to Tumblr

"as soon as i heard you say 'cast iron' like that i knew the recipe was gonna be good" YES that's what we wanna see when it comes to comments on our accent 🤩

speaking of, i maintain that the best way to change minds is doin exactly what you yourself are doin--sharing the food, culture & the overall beauty of appalachia complete with its inherently leftist ideals... in a thick ol fuckin accent.

dizzy em with cognitive dissonance until they have no choice but to accept they may actually be wrong! back when my accent was virtually undetectable, i used to love dropping the "oh btw, im from the south" bomb on em after they got to know me and respect me

but unfortunately, yeah, it's too easy for those kinds to just keep being ugly. takes far less effort to crack stale jokes, speak ill of us and call us stupid at every opportunity than, idk, confronting bias and growing as a person. i wonder if we'll ever stop being the butt of their jokes. probably not. fuck em.

anyway, amen to all you said. i have exactly zero patience for it now honestly, especially after getting to know yall and having this little community that has cropped up around my humble lil blog. i feel more protective of our home than ever before and i been gettin loud about it

thanks for sharing your thoughts and for being here <33