#he has talked about his crushes on other men quite a few times

[cosmicdahlias]

Top Student

Ford Pines x Reader

MINORS DNI

Professor Pines has seemed a little down lately. You stop by his office with the intention of raising his spirits, as well as… other things.

tags: professor ford au, teacher/student relationship, oral, multiple orgasms, biting, fdom/msub, bondage, praise kink, p in v, creampie

okay confession this is inspired by a crush i had on a teacher in my senior year of high school, dude was a total nerd but in like a hot way. i literally applied myself so hard for him that i finished top of the class, still got the medal to prove it lmao. i’ve always had a thing for well read older men and that ain’t ever changing!!!

You stood outside the door to your Astronomy professor’s office. As of late Professor Pines had seemed less like himself, appearing to be not nearly as engaged in his lectures. He covered the material just fine, but his passion for the subject matter just wasn’t there anymore. He always looked exhausted and worn out as well. Were it any other professor, you still would’ve cared, but there was an ulterior motive that led you to stand at his door. You gave a knock.

“Come in!” Professor Pine’s voice called from behind the door.

You opened it and took in the sight of his office. The room was softly lit by both a floor and desk lamp, giving the space a cozier feel than what overhead lighting could achieve. Well stocked bookshelves stretched to the ceiling and multiple PhD diplomas lined the walls, from what you’d heard he had accumulated at least twelve. His desk faced the window and a couch sat in the corner. You stepped into the room.

“Oh hello, y/n. What a pleasant surprise.” He said.

“Evening, professor.”

“Good evening to you too. Please, take a seat.”

You sat on the couch, it was almost far too nice for just an office. Professor Pines really went above and beyond to make sure his students were comfortable. He turned in his chair to face you.

“So, what can I do for you?” He asked.

“Well, to be blunt I’m a little worried.”

His brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m surprised to hear you say that. You’re doing incredibly well in my course. Don’t go spreading this around, but you’re top of the class. I promise you have little, if anything, to worry about.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about myself. I meant you, professor.”

He gave a confused chuckle.

“Forgive me, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

You took a deep breath.

“You’ve just been so… sad lately. It’s subtle, but you seem distant during your lectures, like you’re just going through the motions. You look so exhausted too.”

Professor Pines fidgeted with his hands.

“I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you I’m doing just fine. I promise.”

You looked at him directly in the eyes.

“Professor…”

“I’m sorry, I really do value your worries, but the life of your professor isn’t something you need invest yourself in. You’re incredibly sweet, but seriously I’m fine.”

“I know depression when I see it, I wouldn’t be a good student if I didn’t care.”

He let out a long sigh.

“If I really cannot dissuade you, then alright. Just promise to keep this between us.”

“Of course.”

“Things haven’t been going well for me romantically. It seems to be one failed relationship after another. They start off great for a few weeks, or if I’m lucky maybe a month or so, but no one has seemed to enjoy my company long term. I’m not exactly romantically adept, so it’s more my own fault than them, but still I’m starting to lose hope of finding someone. I’m not getting any younger and at my age you become painfully aware of just how little time you have left in the grand scheme of things. It’s really starting to feel like loneliness might be it for me.“

“Oh, professor. I had my suspicions that it might’ve been something like this, but I’m so sorry.”

He gave a small, dejected smile.

“You know, I really thought I was doing my best to hide it. Foolish of me to assume that you, my top student, wouldn’t catch on with that intuition of yours. I apologize if it’s affected the quality of my teaching.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Oh goodness, no. You don’t need to do anything for me.”

“Are you sure?” You said, standing and coming close to him.

“Wh- what are you doing?”

“I suppose now is as good a time as any, but I’ve always found you attractive, Professor Pines.”

His cheeks turned a dusty pink.

“Um… I- ah- thank you. I’ve always thought you were incredibly attractive as well, but perhaps you shouldn’t be standing so close like that.”

You moved a hand to his chest, there was a slight firmness to it. You moved in closer, your lips brushing against his ear.

“I think I could benefit from some private instruction, don’t you?” You whispered.

His breath shuddered. You leaned down and kissed him, he moaned softly into your mouth before pulling away.

“N- no, this is wrong. I- we can’t do this. Look, you can sit back down and we can discuss anything pertaining to my class, or you can leave and I’ll see you for tomorrow’s lectu-“

You sat on his desk, spreading your legs and slowly pulling up your skirt.

“I know you want this as badly as I do.” You cooed.

“I can’t- oh dear god, you weren’t wearing anything underneath that skirt this whole time? Did you… plan this?”

“I just figured I could help out my favorite professor.”

You slipped a finger to your clit, Professor Pines watched intently.

“You’re so wet, is this because of me?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve touched myself to you.”

“I’ve seen a lot in my time, but someone as radiant and stunning as you with your hand between your thighs and dripping onto my desk for me is by far the least expected.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, professor. Do you know how many people would throw themselves at a silver fox like you?” You purred.

Professor Pines moved himself out of his chair to stand in front of you, he cupped your cheek, kissing you passionately.

“If your flattery is a means to get me on my knees for you, I’d say you’ve won me over.” He said as he sank to the floor, his face level with your pussy.

He allowed his hot breath to linger on you for a moment before dragging his tongue up your dripping lips.

“You taste so good, sweetheart.” He said, his mouth finding your clit as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

Despite claiming to be romantically inept, he certainly wasn’t at pleasuring his lover. You had no idea what his past partners didn’t see in him, he could be as awkward as humanly possible, but his looks and skilled tongue would keep you cuffed.

He stopped for a moment and looked at you.

“How does that feel?” He asked.

You stroked his cheek.

“You’re so good for me.” You praised.

Your praise seemed to invigorate him, he returned his mouth and tongue to your clit, lapping at you furiously.

You felt yourself growing close and you tightened your grip on his hair. You moaned loudly as you came, bucking yourself against his face. He held your hips steady, keeping his mouth on you and making you cum again in record time. He refused to stop, not even allowing you to catch your breath before making you cum again and again until you lost count. Your ears rang by the time he removed his mouth.

“Holy fuuuuuck. You’re incredible, Professor Pines.” You panted, your final orgasm subsiding.

“Please, just call me Ford. After making you cum on my tongue that many times I think we’re past the need for formalities.” He said as he stood to kiss you.

“Well then Ford, how about we move this to the couch?” You said as your hearing fully returned to normal.

“But of course, sweetheart.”

He picked you up underneath your thighs and sat on the couch with you straddling his lap. You felt his hard cock press against you through his pants as you kissed him passionately, pulling down the turtleneck of his maroon sweater. You were about to bite his neck when you noticed a cartoonish tattoo of a smiling star giving a double thumbs up with the words “Hey now, I’m an all star.” You failed to stifle a laugh.

“What is it?” Ford asked.

“Nothing.”

You bit down on him, he gasped.

“Oh god, no one has ever done this to me before. People my age aren’t nearly as adventurous.” Ford whimpered.

You laughed again.

“You think that’s adventurous? Let me ask you something, have you ever been dominated before?”

He blushed hard.

“I- no, never. My partners have always preferred I take the dominant role.”

You kissed him deeply, biting his lower lip as you pulled away.

“I’m about to blow your mind, Stanford Pines. Now lie back.”

He followed your command, shifting himself to lay on the couch with you still on top of him.

“You ever had someone tie you up before?” You asked.

He looked away, embarrassed.

“…Not in a sexual way.” He mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Just what were you doing before you became a college professor?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Guess I’ll just have to fuck the information out of you.” You teased.

“You drive a hard bargain, my dear.”

You unbuckled his belt, pulling it free from his pants. You pinned his arms above his head, looping the belt around his wrists and fashioning it into handcuffs.

“How’s that, not too tight?” You asked.

“No, it feels snug.”

“Good.”

You let your hands travel to his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his cock.

“Goddamn, your previous partners are idiots. Who would pass up a cock like this?” You said, giving him a few strokes.

“Mmmnn, your hand feels so good.”

“I think I know something that’ll feel even better.”

You moved yourself to hover over his cock, slowly sinking down his length. He throbbed as you reached the base of his shaft. You looked down at him and smirked, staying still.

“Y- you can’t just sit there with my cock inside you and not move. Don’t tease me like this.” Ford whimpered.

“I need to hear you tell me how much you want this.”

“Please, I need you.” He said as he frantically attempted to buck his hips.

You pulled yourself off of him.

“No no no, please no, you can’t stop now.” He whined pitifully.

You cupped his chin, your thumb stroking his lips.

“You have to beg. Tell me just how badly you need your top student to fuck you.” You commanded.

“Oh god, please y/n. I need you. I fucking NEED you. Ever since that first day you walked into my class I’ve desired you so intensely. You don’t know how many times I’ve had to stroke myself because I lay awake at night thinking of you. I’ve even touched myself in the lecture hall between classes after seeing you sit in the front row in those little skirts, crossing and uncrossing your legs, your panties just barely visible. I’ve never longed for someone the way I have for you. Please fuck me, I can’t take much more of this.”

“Ugh you’re adorable when you beg, music to my ears.”

You took his full length back inside you, he let out a loud gasping moan as you began to lift and drop your hips.

“Thank you, dear Moses thank you. You feel so good, s- so warm and tight.” He shuddered.

You slipped your hands under his sweater to his nipples, pinching and tugging them. He was a mess of moans and whimpers.

“You like that, smart guy?” You purred.

He looked up at you in surprise.

“Did I say something?” You asked.

“No, I just- it’s funny, you’re not the first person to call me that, but I like it far better coming from you than I did him.”

“That’s my good boy.” You purred.

You felt him throb hard inside you.

“Nnngh, no one has ever said that to me before. Your praise alone could make a man cum.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

You gripped his shoulders, moving your hips to fully slide him out and back in over and over. Your name left his lips with a moan and he looked up at you, eyes full of pure lust.

“Oh god, just like that. Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” He whined.

“So needy, you’re doing such a good job for me.”

You felt him throb repeatedly as his moans and whimpers increased in volume and prevalence.

“I’m so close, m- may I cum in you? I need to know what it’s like to fill you with my seed. Please, y/n.” Ford begged.

“Very good, handsome. I didn’t even have to tell you to beg. That alone deserves to be rewarded.”

You picked up your speed and felt the pulse of his cock one final time as he came deep inside you. He bucked his hips, trying his hardest to go as far in you as he could.

“Y- you’re s- s- so incredible.” He stuttered.

“And you make for one hell of a ride, handsome.” You purred, stroking his cheek.

You pulled yourself off of him and he looked down, his and your cum had completely stained the front of his pants.

“Oh god, we’ve made a mess.” He said, putting his hand to his forehead.

You giggled at the sight of him.

“Don’t laugh, you’re wearing a skirt, you can get away with it.” He groaned.

“Sorry, I just like the idea of leaving you with a little reminder of myself.”

Ford took your hand.

“You really are amazing, sweetheart. No one has ever come close to feeling like you.” He whispered.

“Yeah? How would you like to do this again sometime?”

“R- really?” He asked.

“Oh without question.”

“Then by all means, feel free to stop by tomorrow. Perhaps you could let me see you sans clothes next time.”

“Good boy, sounds like a plan.” You said, leaning down to kiss him.

[rainbowpopeworld]

(Edited to add: not an actual quote from Michael Sheen - this is a meme)

[exopelagic]

i said i wouldn’t do it this time but it’s 3am and mods asleep. boy

[soleilapproves]

Boxer!Sukuna loves to show off his moves to his crush aka his best friend (feat. Boxer!Toji)

Notes: sukuna is a jealous little hoe, Toji finds reader attractive, Pre-relationship, fem!reader (she/her), depictions of fighting so read at your own discretion. Uraume is a nonchalant baddie. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you all.

masterlist

Thump!

A gloved fist lands against Sukuna’s tattooed cheek as he stumbles back into the boxing ring’s roped borders.

He quickly flicks off the sweat dripping down from his nose to his upper lips and gets back into fighting stance. His opponent / friend, Toji Fushiguro, smirks at him as he bounces in his spot, bracing for what’s to come.

“You’re boring me here, Ryomen!” The raven haired man barked from the opposite end of the ring. “Quit fightin’ like a pissy little boy and hit me like a man!” He further taunted his opponent.

Sukuna leaped from his spot and swung his arm only for Toji to dodge him with a duck and attack his legs.

“Fuck!” Sukuna yelled out as he fell down. His body bounced against the ground, force acting against him.

“Time out!” Coach Yaga yelled out. Toji removed his gloves and took off his helmet, lending out a helping hand to Sukuna.

Sukuna stared at Toji’s calloused hands and back at him. His glare deepened with every heavy breath he took.

He could not stop thinking about the conversation he had with Toji in the gym locker room a few days ago.

“She your girl?” Toji asked as he applied another heat patch to his sore shoulder.

“Who?” Sukuna asked while he packed his gym bag.

“The girl you came in with today. You know, the one who wouldn’t stop talking.” Toji chuckled as he said that. Sukuna’s eyes momentarily flickered away from Toji has he remembered how you were going off on a tangent about your favorite show.

“Nah, why do you wanna know?”

“I wanna take her out.” Sukuna’s hand froze after hearing Toji’s answer.

It never occurred to Sukuna that other men wanted to talk to you. He always thought that he was the only man in your life even if there wasn’t anything romantic between you two.

But then again, Sukuna had made it his mission to drive away any man that even showed a shred of romantic attention towards you. It was easy for him since he was a well known boxer that could probably smash concrete with one punch if he tried.

It was his favorite thing about being so strong.

However, it wasn’t going to work in this case. Not when his opponent was on par with him.

“You don’t get it, man. She’s not that kinda girl. She’s the relationship type and you hate all that commitment stuff.”

“I wouldn’t ask to date your friend if I wanted to leave her high and dry. I’m ready to do all that redemption shit now. I wanna get serious.”

Sukuna’s blood boiled at the thought of Toji even looking in your direction. What made him think that you would even say yes? You had hardly ever said three sentences to the man (the sentences being “hi, Toji,” “bye, Toji,” and “where’s sukuna?”)

But he also knew what Toji was like in the ring. A relentless fighter that was always ready to improve where he lacked. And he also knew what you were like.

All he could do was hope that you’d reject Toji.

“Do whatever you want. Fuck do I care about?” Sukuna shoved in his shower gel in his bag and stomped out of the room.

He pushed Toji’s hand away and walked out the ring to hydrate himself. Toji mumbled a quick “asshole” before heading out towards his water bottle right outside the fight room.

“You were exceptionally bad today. I believe there must be something emotionally affecting you.” His manager (more like henchman), Uraume said as they handed him a bottle of sugar free Gatorade.

“Fuck off.” Sukuna tiredly said as his leaned back into the leather couch facing the ring. The spotlights above him burned his retinas but his mind kept him distracted with thoughts about you.

The way you laughed at his banter with Uraume, the way you’d comfort him after lost matches, the way you’d stare at him with your arms crossed when he’d forget to text you.

Like you were doing now.

“Some nerve of you to leave me on read last night.” You huffed out in anger. Sukuna immediately sat up, rubbing his eyes. You were definitely real and standing in front of him.

You looked positively adorable with a pout on your face and your foot tapping angrily on the ground. If Sukuna didn’t have any self control, his lips would’ve been planted on yours right now.

“You said you’d bring me to the gym to watch your practice match and then forgot to tell me when your match was!”

You were lucky to have Uraume’s number and contacted them to get to the gym yourself.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up-“

“Hey, nice to see you.” Toji sauntered around you, interrupting Sukuna. “This creep giving you any trouble?” Toji sneered with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, in fact, he promised that I could watch today’s match but didn’t even bother picking me up.” You complained to Toji, who was towering above you.

Sukuna could practically see Toji’s blood rush to his ears. The man was smitten and it irritated him to see that.

“Toji, get the fuck out of here. We’re having a private conversation.”

“She literally aired your dirty laundry in front of me, man. There was no privacy to begin with.” You let out a small laugh at Toji’s response and he proudly beamed in your direction.

Sukuna was going to further defend himself, stating that it was a conversation between best friends but Coach Yaga was quick to swoop in with smacks to both the boxers’ heads to resume their match.

The men went towards the ring, ducking under the ropes as they entered. Sukuna needed your eyes on him no matter what. So he did what he thought was best- take his compression tank off.

His chest gleamed with sweat as he threw the piece of clothing out the ring. The tank accidentally landed on Uraume’s face and their body began to shudder in anger. You grimaced at the sight as you used your pointer finger and thumb to pluck off the sweaty garment from their head.

Sukuna’s face turned red out of embarrassment

“Sorry, dude.” Great, he was supposed to look sexy but he ended up making a fool of himself.

“You know what? keep fighting like a little kid. I wanna make sure I win in front of the pretty lady before I ask her out.” Toji whispered in Sukuna’s ear before he wore his mouth guard.

The tattooed man was seething. There were so many emotions affecting him at the same time- anger, jealousy, sadness, and insecurity.

But then all of that was erased when he saw you intently looking at him while you stood next to an irritated Uraume. Not to mention, you were still holding his sweaty compression tank like it wasn’t something that would disgust any other person.

Sukuna wasn’t feeling as defeated as anymore. In fact, there was a new surge of energy in him when he saw you standing outside the ring with hopeful eyes.

He had an advantage over Toji because right now, the one you were rooting for was him. Not his green eyed opponent.

You were here to see him win. You were here to see your man- okay, best friend who’s a man, win.

And he wasn’t going to disappoint you.

Coach Yaga blew his whistle and both men began walking in circles, eyes staring into one another’s to predict their opponent’s next move.

Sukuna remembered to always wait for the opponent to make the first blow so he could dodge them. This way, he’d be able to expend their energy and use their one second of being distracted to his advantage.

Toji did exactly as he predicted and he countered his punch with a hit to his chin. You gasped and Sukuna could see you smile in his peripheral view (maybe he was imagining it but whatever. To him, you were smiling while he punched Toji).

Toji growled as his body moved backwards but he got back into position quickly and charged at Sukuna with a punch but Sukuna crossed his arms to dodge the blow. He wanted to hit but needed an in somehow. He began to think long and hard as he dodged Toji’s incoming punches.

His eyes momentarily landed on you and he couldn’t help but think about Toji kissing you after your date, his non-tattooed, muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Your breasts pushed against his chest as you gasped for air.

He imagined Toji taking you home, sleeping in the same bed as you. Patting your head as you fall asleep.

Sukuna could not let that happen. As selfish as he was, he could not let his sparring mate take away the one thing that mattered most in his life- you.

He landed punch after punch to Toji’s ribs and you excitedly clapped at the sight. The sound of your hands only further fueled Sukuna’s fury as he continued to batter Toji.

The fight went on for a quite a while, neither fighter giving in to losing. But by now, Toji had been punched the most and was beginning to lose his balance.

Coach Yaga’s shrill whistle squeaked and the match stopped before Toji could be rendered immobile. You wanted to feel bad for the man when you saw all the bruises on his face and body but you could help but smile when you looked at Sukuna. He wasn’t smiling but the look on his face showed he was satisfied.

Sukuna turned to find you smiling and he mirrored your expression.

Yeah, there was no way he was going to let you go. He was going to win every fight against Toji whether if it was in ring or for your heart.

-•-

I’m just adding lore to Sukuna and Toji’s rivalry in both boxing and pursuing the reader.

[acowardinmordor]

I kinda want a fic where Eddie is straight. Strong Ally, totally safe, but the guy is straight. There's a few months after they successfully take down Vecna that he and Robin and Steve are all besties, living in each others' pockets. During that time, he makes a lot of jokes that Steve is going to make a great housewife someday, makes some comments that aren't quite jokes that he wishes Steve was a girl, and has some very much suppressed thoughts that the only thing stopping them is that Eddie isn't attracted to men.

Near the end of the summer, before Steve is going to follow Robin to Sarah Lawrence, Steve comes out as bi to the whole group, and Eddie, for the first time, unashamedly thinks, damn, if only I wasn't straight. Steve even gets brave a few days before they leave and broaches the topic of Steve having a crush on Eddie. Keeps saying that he's not going to hit on Eddie, but wanted to take the chance, just in case Eddie had ever thought about it.

"Sorry, Steve, I only date girls."

And the awkwardness isn't the only reason the three drift apart, but it doesn't help. They send letters and post cards between Chicago and New York, and try to call at least once a month, but they're all broke, and long distance is expensive. Two years out, and Eddie knows something weird is happening with Steve and Robin, but they don't want to talk about it. They still talk, they're still friends, they'd still die for each other, but there is something they're hiding from him. Three and a half years out, and the bureaucrats finally got their act together. 'Thanks for not telling anybody' checks get sent to everyone in the know. Very large checks.

Robin graduates, and she and Stevie have a comfortable cushion. They don't have to take horrible minimum wage jobs anymore, and some expensive things they've been saving up to do for a while can finally happen.

This is where the fic in my head actually starts.

Eddie hears all about Los Angeles from Robin, but she tells him that Stevie isn't feeling great after the trip, and that Eddie will get a letter soon.

Its four months later, almost exactly four years since the three last saw each other in person when they finally meet again. Robin got a job in Chicago, and Eddie is still there, now a full artist in a tattoo parlor, playing gigs for fun with random friends. Stevie, of course, follows Robin, and Eddie tries hard not to stay upset with the guy for the weirdness and the sometimes silence, and the very obvious distance that Steve put between them recently.

Then they see each other. Meeting up at what has to be the queerest bar in the city, and it takes Eddie way, way too long to put together what's waiting at a booth along the wall. He's an ally, he's heard all the terms and types and nodded along in supportive silence because he doesn't get it, but he's trying.

But there's Robin, sitting on the outside, with a brunette beside her, possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie has ever seen, strong, tall, long wavy chestnut hair, and a spattering of very distinct moles. The little bit of a smile she has when Eddie first comes over melts into something small and scared as Eddie stares in shock. It's Stevie, it has to be, and Robin's exclusive use of what was once only a nickname suddenly makes more sense. He knows he needs to make sure he's using the right name, pronouns, whatever she wants. He's friend of a friend with a couple trans people, and again, he doesn't get it, but he listened, and he cannot fuck this up, because it's Stevie and this must be what they were hiding, but the inside of his brain sounds like an endless loop of mic feedback for a solid sixty seconds.

Sixty seconds is an insanely long time.

Before his brain turns over and he can smile and reach the table, Stevie has shrunk into the corner, and Robin looks ready to launch herself at Eddie's throat in her soulmate's defense.

A whole list of intrusive thoughts hit Eddie all at once while his mouth runs on autopilot, asking the right questions, smiling encouragingly, introducing himself to, yes, Stevie Harrington, and dragging the mood to a happy place by sheer force of will. Stevie starts to uncurl, smiles a little brighter, sits up straight, laughs properly at Eddie's dumb stories about terrible tattoos, and leans closer as the night goes on.

He fixes the weirdness he started in his shock, because there is no way in hell he's not going to keep two of his best friends now that they live in the same city again.

But his head is stuck spiraling around a snarl of horrible, selfish, invasive thoughts. The worst of which: Stevie is now Stevie because Eddie told her that he only liked girls. And he knows thats stupid and isn't why Stevie made this choice, and he hates himself for thinking it, but the thought is still there. That Eddie wanted so badly that she's now Stevie. Another, only slightly less horrible thought, is that the immediate fairytale ending he imagined on first sight - might be ruined because Eddie is still straight, and he's just not sure about, you know, the details.

Eddie did a great job that first night, and they're back to hanging out all the time as soon as the last boxes are unpacked. It is not Stevie's fault that seeing her in a sports bra for the once confirmed that the payouts, the LA trip, and her new shirt size were related. It's not her fault that Eddie can't stop thinking about how hot she is.

It's absolutely not her fault that Eddie starts getting weird around her. He's trying, okay? He's trying so hard. But its weird for him. He likes her. That part he's certain of. Loves her, almost definitely. He thinks she's gorgeous, high confidence on that part too. He has a crush, but he knows, deeper than the rest, that Stevie isn't confident in herself yet. She acts it most of the time, but its under the surface, a thread of fear that she's not girl enough to count.

And Eddie has a crush. And Eddie can't tell her. Because Eddie won't put them in a situation where Stevie's pants come off, and Eddie suddenly can't see her as the woman she is. It would hurt Stevie so bad, and Eddie would never forgive himself.

It's not like he can ask her just how much surgery she got in LA so he can prepare. And honestly, he's not sure it would matter one way or the other. He's terrified that whatever her choice, Eddie will fuck up his reaction. The risk is unsolvable. Robin calls him out on his crush two months later, and since the other choice is even worse, Eddie lies, and says she's wrong. No crush. Nope. Not even a tiny one.

Eddie tries to will himself into becoming bisexual for an entire month, going so far as making out with a very feminine twink at a club - he thought he'd ease his way into this - but he's still decidedly straight. Rubbing against the twink's remarkably small dick wasn't repulsive, but it didn't do anything for him either. Sure, he learns there's all kinds of pleasurable things to try that he didn't know about, but he's still not into anyone but girls.

(I don't know if this is the right resolution bc Ive spun Eddie pretty tight here, but this is getting so long. )

Robin's girlfriend has a party at a gay bar for her birthday. Obviously, Eddie and Stevie are invited, and obviously, just like every other day on this earth, Stevie looks incredible. She has a sparkly dress and tall boots and glitter on her collarbones and Eddie wants to lick her. His lovelorn staring only gets worse as the night goes on. Stevie is dancing, and Eddie is drinking at the bar with a collection of purses and carabiners of keys slung around and clipped to him. It's obvious enough that a gay couple - Nick and Chris - starts teasing him about it, telling him to man up and ask the pretty girl to dance already.

Eddie is too drunk for this, and he for sure has a guilt trip later for it, but he just starts talking. All of his fears and all of his love, and how he can't ever say anything because he's tried, and he's straight anyway, and he loves Stevie too much to hurt her like that. It's an entire miracle that Eddie broke down in front of a decent pair of human beings, and not some assholes. They sweep him off to a quieter corner outside, help him calm down as he smokes, and feed him some fries.

Eddie is still wearing purses like bandoliers, is snotty and red eyed, is on his third cigarette and fourth whiskey, and resisting the need to runaway forever when the older of the couple calls over someone named Angel. A woman who, if Eddie was not hopelessly in love with Stevie, would be the source of an immediate new crush. She's older than he is, thin through the waist, thick thighs, bottle blonde hair in a ponytail, and has a few inches on Eddie with her heels. The primal part of his brain wants to climb her like a tree.

'Hi Chris. Oh, honey, you having a rough night?" Angel has a few words with Chris, then grins like the cat who caught the canary.

'You're gonna be my good karma for the month, cutie. You are attracted to me, no don't try, thats a cute blush but I can still see it behind your hair, you are. You're straight, right? Yeah, that's why you think I'm hot. Hey, Chris? Do you think I'm hot?"

"Not at all, babe. You know I only go for men."

Angel turns back to Eddie and leans close to explain. 'Chris is a bit of a man whore. Loooooves dick. Don't worry, he says it all the time. Favorite thing in the world, and I've heard he's great at sucking dick. Tragically, I never get to find out, because I'm not a guy.' She pushes the word a little. Then she steps even closer so she's pressed against his side.

Arousal sweeps through him because in love with Stevie or not, Angel is hot as hell. 'Wanna go fool around in the bathroom?' she whispers

Eddie is definitely tempted, already nodding, but doesn't get to speak. Angel rolls her hips. He feels -- A new bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. 'this change your mind at all?' Her voice drops two octaves, and Eddie's brain breaks.

Because, as it turns out, no. No, it does not change his mind. He's half hard, he still wants to climb her, and he's not entirely sure how to get her off, but he takes direction well.

'Aww, figure yourself out, already, honey? Or do you want to test run this a bit more before you go for it?' Angel is back to her real voice, a high alto. She has one hand on his chest, and Eddie can hear Nick laughing nearby. 'I won't lie, I know I won't get to keep you, but you look like we could have a real fun time as I teach you. Happy to get you trained up for her'

Eddie shakes his head, an insane mix of bubbly and numb.

'Ohhh, so you're gonna go get your girl?' She's teasing him.

Eddie nods, already moving, vaguely aware of more laughter and jokes about karma and saving lost lambs, but too fixated to listen. He's still carrying all the purses. He's not entirely sure where Stevie is in the bar. He has absolutely no idea what he's going to say when he finds her. Still not sure how to worship her properly. Extremely interested in following directions on the topic.

Eddie is still straight, but luckily, the girl of his dreams is dancing inside, and the rest of the details don't matter in the face of the possibility of finally asking her out.

When he finally chases her down at a high top with a cosmo, she laughs at how he looks, but he's never, ever seen her smile like she does when she agrees to a date with him.

--

This is sort of about a friend as they worked through realizing they weren't attracted to their wife after she transitioned, but that was sad, and this needed to not be. I guess I'm just thinking about the non-fanfic nature of life. Where it takes a guy a long while to figure himself out, because good intentions are separate from shifting how you think. Basically wanted Eddie in a situation where he has to reconcile the difference between gender and anatomy, and rewrite his own definitions of what he is and isn't attracted to. Robin had to go through a similar thing as she became attracted to Steve but only in the abstract. They're too platonic for gender to stop their bond

[animehideout]

How about jjk men reaction if y/n has a tongue piercing? ;D

JJK Men Reaction To Y/N With A Tongue Piercing

A/n: Thank you @luna-lunique for this wonderful request, I hope you enjoy it ❤️.

Characters: Geto Suguru - Gojo Satoru - Choso Kamo - Ryomen Sukuna.

Warning: SMUT MDNI for Sukuna's part ( ofc it has to be spicy with this man )

Geto Suguru: Interested And Flirty

Geto Suguru is your crush, so you got your tongue pierced to match his vibe, since he's got both his ears pierced.

Your piercing wasn't healed yet, so you'd find a difficulty to move your tongue which resulted in you stuttering.

He'd ask if you were okay.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine Suguru, it's just I got my tongue pierced and it kinda hurts a bit"

His eyes would lit up with genuine surprise and interest.

A smile played on his lips, curiousity evident in his gaze.

"A tongue piercing? You've been hiding your rebellious side from me Y/N?"

You'd blush a lot from the way hos eyes were glued to your mouth whenever you spoke, trying yo catch a glimpse of your piercing.

"Didn't know you were into piercings tho! But it's a nice touch, added a bit of mystery in you".

Since he's experienced with piercings, he'd give you some advice on how to care of it in order to heal it fast.

Your tongue piercing was his breaking point, he'd give you multiple hints that he has a crush on you.

"You know people with tongue piercings are my type"

"Maybe I should join the club Y/n. A matching tongue piercing could be quite special don't you think?"

A few days later, Geto would surprise you with a tongue piercing as well, cuz he desperately wanted to match with you.

Gojo Satoru: Teasing

It was when both of you were teasing each other as always.

You'd stick your tongue out to mock him, and that's when he caught a glimpse of the jewelry that decorated your tongue.

A subtle surprised flickered across his face, eyes widened in intruige.

"Holy shit! Stick your tongue out again–Is that a piercing?"

But of course you had to tease him and hide it from him.

So you covered your mouth a ran away from him.

You think he'd give up? Hell no! he'll run after you, catch you and force you to show him your tongue.

Would pin you down, and tried to open your mouth.

"Show meeeeeee" he'd whine.

You'd bite his finger.

You got tired and gave up, so you poked your tongue revealing a cute jewelry.

"Oh someone got an extra sparkle in their mouth, is this your way of ensuring our convos are electrifying?" he'd joke.

Would observe it in admiration, fascinated by your bold choice.

Would definitely try to touch it.

"You're full of surprises Y/N! I love that"

Would appreciate your uniqueness, spontaneity and free spirit to try new things.

Teases you a lot about it but deep down he loves it so much and thinks it's hot.

"Imagine if I put a magnet is your mouth a pull"

"Ugh, I told you this for the 1673829th time Satoru, it's not magnetized".

Spoils you with different jewelries.

"Thought this one might match the sparkle in your eyes"

He'd say with a wide smile, gifting you the new expensive accessory.

"Wonder how it feels to kiss someone with a tongue piercing, wanna help me figure out Y/N?"

Choso Kamo: Concerned AF.

"Like my new piercing Choso?"

His eyes would widen in surprise and concern.

He couldn't help but voice his worries.

Approaches you with a worried glisten in his eyes, carefully opens your mouth to get a closer look at your piercing.

If it was possible he'd shove his head inside for a better look.

"Wait when did you get this Y/N?"

Bombards you with questions.

"Is it painful? Does it hurt when you talk? Omg alright I'll shut up you don't have to answer if it pains you when you speak"

Would he stop asking questions? No.

He has to make sure you're okay.

He's a caring person and his questions reflected his genuine concern for you well-being and safety.

"Does it bleed? How long does it take to heal?".

"Are you supposed to eat certain things or avoid stuff?"

You'd have to comfort him, and tell him that it doesn't hurt as it looks and that you have a high pain tolerance so you can handle it.

If you choose to joke around with him and tell him that it caused you to faint or it started to bleed, man would panic, might faint as well.

Treats you with tenderness and care.

Blows on your food if it's hot, so it won't burn your tongue and cause any infections.

Googles: How to heal a tongue piercing in 1 day.

"It looks great on you my love, but I hate seeing you in pain".

Ryomen Sukuna: Turned On.

It was when both of you were making out.

The accessory on your tongue poked his lips and tongue.

Would pull back in surprise.

"Woah woah! what was that show me!"

You'd stick your tongue out, a smirk played on his lips, a flicker of desire ignited his eyes, mirroring his filthy thoughts.

It was your plan all along, you led him on for a makeout session so he could feel your new piercing.

Instantly turned on, his pants tightening.

"Well, well, look what we have here! Someone is upping their game, spicing things up"

He'd laugh in satisfaction, excited just by the thought of what your pierced mouth could do.

"You're playing dangerous games Y/N"

Would waste a second? No! He'd want your tongue around his D.

"Come on, on your knees now Y/N! I want to know how it feels"

It made him 10x attracted to you, having your tongue pierced revealed your badass and rebellious side that he couldn't help but fall deeper for.

As you did your work down there, he'd focus in the way your tongue piercing lingered around his D.

You'd drive him crazy, and turn him into a hot mess. Only his groans are heard.

[theastrical]

genshin men and their way of apologising

Genshin men and their ways of apologising.

kaeya, diluc, childe, (alhaitham, zhongli, kaveh on pt.2) x reader (fem!reader diluc)

ps: it’s comfort/hurt, a bit angsty but with fluffy ending!! Also if you guys have triggers with cursing, this content has cursing/verbal scolding implications so please mind that before reading!

Kaeya:

“stop doing this and that..you’ll end up being a burden.” He shuts off the door and locks it. You were just trying to help him, and unfortunately, he doesn’t like it. This happens quiet a lot, where he closed off all part of himself in order to heal himself…that’s okay, at first, but what about you? You’re hurt and he kept you out just like that; is he here to wound your heart just like the other exes who grew apart from you?

And when you start to lose your patience, he can’t do nothing about it, right? He’s just there to hurt-hurt-and make you feel as if you in deserve of such a treatment. You cried, it felt weird to cry over kaeya. He has been sweet, yes, you never doubted once that his act are truly meant for you, but at what certain point did you do to make him immediately switch up? You didn’t know, you never know. He never wanted to communicate, that’s the problem.

“if you don’t want me to help you, that’s fine, just please kaeya…talk to me like i’m a human, not somebody you can use when you’re happy. I also need a set of time to heal.” You say that-an automatic reply set on your brain to confront him even if it’s not face to face. Now door to door-you just scold him and leave.

It took him a huge amount of time to heal. he knows what he has done can’t be undone. Listening to your cries become his worst fear, he can’t just stand in front of your eyes and say sorry, he knows that wouldn’t work. That enough explains how much he hates apologising; because his apologies always ended up with him crushing over the burden of his sins.

That’s why, the next day, in the morning when you woke up. Kaeya is already there beside your bedside. Folding your palm between his. His head on the floor.

“i’ve taken your words and…* he sighs before continuing. “Apologies don’t really matter if i don’t change my attitudes, so please, if you’re still willing to give me one more chance, can i have the privilege to change, at least, for you?”…he stays quiet for a while. “Lastly, i’m sorry, i know all i did these yesterday and these past few months weren’t tolerable. I understand if you would hate me for this.”..he looks up to you, his eyes are already watery. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He hugs you and that felt so good…

A mark on your neck was left, a few peck it took for him to finally calm down. And he looks at you with a smile, even when his eyes are puffy. “I love you..thank you for still being here.”

Diluc:

Diluc came home quite late, it was unusual and it worries you, after all, since the day you married him. He had never been this late-he always come home with a huge surprise which is food…for obvious reason (he’s wants you to eat instead of cooking him a meal since he knew how exhausting it can be).

you were just about to ring up his phone-and suddenly a slam from the door was heard. You came to the first floor and..there’s diluc! “Diluc!” You grin, as always, you warmly greeted him, because it’s your husband, it’s diluc, what more reason to make you adore him?

You tried to help him get his bag and put off his jacket…but his bag was so heavy…whatever does he put inside his bag? Why is it so h— oh no! The bag suddenly hit your coffee cup and spilled the remaining coffee to the bag…now his bag is tainted with coffee and he-who saw that scene in front of him can’t even hide his raging eyes. Before one word to spit out-he gives off a long sigh-squinting his eyes.

“Why…sigh…it’s always you, you AND YOU who makes the worst mistake OVER AND OVER AGAIN! In the WORST TIMING AS WELL, CAN YOU—“ you replied, cutting off his words. “I-i’m so sorry diluc…i’ll help you with th—“ , “CAN YOU STOP CUTTING MY WORDS? Listen to me lady, it’s not about the bag or the papers, its about your presence…why helping you when you can’t even help yourself fix these problems, you’re helpless.”

He said that like a drunk man with no sanity behind his eyes, yet, this time, he’s actually sober, so sober he already pulled off that bag from your grip... He’s losing his patience and you know his words are the truth…still it hurts way too much. Why? Because it’s diluc, the one you called husband. tears fell and you don’t know what to do. It’s like your body doesn’t know how to move.

You look at his eyes, your mind went blank. You can sense his anger, but the tears never stop from your eyes. It’s like you just got hit by a truck. You try to left the living room to the bedroom upstair. At the same time diluc realise his action-you’re already up there-on the stair.

As soon as your foot step into the bedroom. You slowly loses the ability to numb the tears. You lay down on the comfy covers and then just cry. Sniffling. Without words, just cry and cry and cry. Realising that it was your mistake but..it hurts when he struck you with the truth that you’re useless in his eyes.

Diluc didn’t pay mind to pride when it comes to apologizing. Hence, when he heard the sniffling become louder in each breathe you took. He storms to the bedroom and hold your body to his embrace. Covering you from his face. Covering you from the cowardice and guilt he has to face. Securing you from his words..comforting you with his presence.

“sorry princess…don’t bother looking at my face if it means you’ll hate me…i don’t deserve the sight of your eyes…i don’t deserve anything.” He hugs you closer and strokes your hair, within each stroke, it felt like his hands have just won you again. “Thank you for helping me, it ease me a lot—that’s the word you need and i’m unable to fulfil that right..here i am, rejecting you, not acknowledging the effort you took just to wait for me.” He kisses your forehead before carrying you to sit on his lap. “but do believe that i’ll fix this mistake and beg on your knees if you need me to...” he look at your eye despite you not giving him a sight of your puffy eye.

“Anything for a second chance, for my princess.”

Childe:

you really love cooking. It’s something that nobody really knows-cause not evedybody has seen you cook or even taste the food you cook. You’re known to be secretive about everything; Even childe being your husband, only 2 of your 100 friends know-especially with the fact that topic is on your top 10 secret list.

And being in a marriage with childe means you’ll cook 24/7, which at first seems fine with you-but lately, you’ve been losing interest in cooking. It’s like..whatever you make is just a rating of ”it’s okay” for childe. It’s like he doesn’t even bother appreciating your food. So today, you’re trying to confront him…

He’s in a badmood-that’s why he doesn’t bother to try and reach out to you. Though it’ll be very thoughtful if you actually make him his comfort food right? And maybe if you did so, he would’ve complimented your cooking? Right! So you did and you’re so happy with the result! It taste perfect! So you began serving it onto the small bowl and put the food in front of him, you immediately get some spoonful of the food and put it inside his mouth-which is hot-like BURNING HOT. You know you fucked up so badly, so you get some water for him before he said “fuck!” so casually.

“W-what’s wrong..? Sorry i burned your tongue, i really am..!!! Please dr—“ he immediately cut you off. “No…i don’t want to eat dinner, the food doesn’t even taste good…” oh. “and thank you for burning my tongue as well! It certainly helps!.” He mocked you. “Now i can speak while enduring the pain! Right! That’s what you want your husband to feel, right?” He happily grins, a mockery. Childe immediately walked out of the dining room like a child.

And he scoffs silently on the hallway, even though it’s easy enough for you to listen because he talks to himself like he talks to another being. “I should’ve just searched for another person..i can’t stay with an idiot…” and that push you towards a realization that childe always have think of you as somebody who isn’t worth of his time. It’s like reality finally gives you a sign that he’s just one lucky pull you got. You didn’t cry. It gives you a numbing feeling, an empty one.

You sat on the dining table, taking out your apron, you get some bowl of the food and eat it by yourself. Because, like childe said, he wouldn’t eat dinner, so why bother waiting for somebody who can’t even appreciate you?

Eating alone is such a complex feeling, especially in a marriage. It feels lonely but peaceful. At least it can make your mind steady for whatever coming afterwards. You did feel a bit better but..the pain of his words never left you. It never did. It just makes the heart feel more numb as the seconds passed.

You sighed and…there he is, all shy and embarrassed behind the walls, he has been spying on you since 30 minutes ago…he’s guilty as charged. When you see him, you ignored him, immediately. Not wanting to share another eye contact with that man who have insulted your ways of loving him.

He follows you and hold onto your arm before you go elsewhere, who knows what will you do if his arms didn’t hold yours. Childe is embarrassed-guilt on his face and a coward on his heart. He made you wait for a good 5 minutes, he was waiting for you to say something..but instead, childe was met with cold air.

“i’m a loser for insulting your way of loving me. I’m dramatic. I’m a brat. I’m everything that you don’t want in a man.” His head can’t even meet yours. After all, your eyes are blank and it pierces his soul. “You don’t need to give me second chance. You don’t need to treat me right after what i’ve done. A bad deed is a bad deed.” With the courage of the final sentence; he hold onto your hand and kisses your fingertips. “I will win that cold heart of yours again and again, if it means i can live with you in every life to come.”

[sunkissedscribbles]

☆ 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆 𝑅𝑂𝐶𝐾 – 𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐵𝐸𝐿𝐿𝐴 𝐼𝐼.

PAIRING: singer!guitarist!mattheo x arabella!journalist!reader TW: swearing maybe, mentions of alcohol, sex and drugs WORD COUNT: 1.2k A/N: I'm in love with singer!guitarist!mattheo who is still a hopeless romantic SONGS: Lovers Rock by TV Girl // PLAYLIST

☆ MASTERLIST PART1 PART2

✰ Are you sick of me? Would you like to be? I'm trying to tell you something Something that I already said

Mattheo’s been restless ever since you left him there like that, standing alone on the stage as you claimed to work for the Rolling Stone magazine, feeling as if he was in a dream, or on acid – euphoric; the unmistakable feeling wouldn’t have left him alone for even a second for two entire days. However, this euphoria had turned into nervousness over time, but the boys wouldn’t have for god’s sake left him alone. No, they kept teasing him endlessly with you.

“Dude, you need to call her up finally,” Theo started the conversation the other evening, standing by the window, smoking.

Mattheo just hummed at the declaration, reaching into the fridge for the leftover pizza.

“Yeah, man, we need the interview and you need the girl. I mean, it’s a win-win situation,” Dax continued.

Mattheo stayed quiet yet again. He knew this was the opportunity, but also, this was the girl. The girl who made him feel like a giddy teenager again who’d got a crush on the cool, edgy girl. He felt like he was in Freaky Friday, just the other way around. He knew he’d work his courage up eventually because it had been bugging him for weeks. You – you had been bugging him for weeks before he’d even get to meet you. Ever since you had crept into his dreams and he wrote ‘Arabella’, and an only-ever-expanding list of songs.

And he had your number, it was as if the Universe had been shouting at him abruptly to just make that bloody move for a relationship he clearly had been craving.

After a few more minutes of Mattheo’s awful silence, Enzo jumps up from the sofa. “Where’s the paper? I’ll call her if you won’t.”

Mattheo froze. You gave him your number, not Enzo. You wanted him to call, right? Not Enzo. And what if when you heard Enzo’s posh accent you just, boom, fell for him? What if you were into bassists? No, he had to man up and talk to you. And as his insecurities got the best of him, he stepped away from the counter and took his phone out of his pocket, flipping it to take the piece of paper with your pretty handwriting on it out of the phone case. “I’ll call her,” he emphasized the pronoun, maybe a bit too possessively.

☆☆☆☆

“So, how did the name Pureblood Trauma come?”

“We were high,” Theo started but Mattheo took the opportunity from his friend to explain the meaning behind it, shifting in his seat across you, his eyes raking over your features every now and then.

“We had this joke about our parents being obsessed with blue blood and how they weren’t any better than the Aryan or Nazis.”

They all thought back to how Enzo’s suggestion of the band name, who was clearly joking, but still utterly high, had earned giggles turning into hearty laughter from the three other young men.

After a few questions about the band itself, you switched to asking some about their songs which clearly had potential, even if we only looked at the lyrics.

“Your song, Arabella, or a recording of it, has become quite popular on the internet. The muse, Arabella seems quite the mysterious type, and almost over-this-world, and you’ve got some creative metaphors for her personality. How did you come up with her character?” you inquired.

Enzo and Dax managed to keep their cool with only a twitch of their lips and a shared glance, but Theo’s quiet snort came out muffled, muttering a ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ as he looked over at Mattheo whose cheeks had gone a few shades pinker at the question. Because, god, how could he tell you it was about you?

“Um, it’s about a girl I once saw in my dream, and she kept reappearing in my sleep after. The idea of her just had me in a chokehold for weeks. She seemed so real but could never really… grasp her character until somehow I came up with the line ‘And a helter-skelter round her little finger and I ride it endlessly’ after Theo pointed out how this girl seemed to have me wrapped around her little finger,” he explained, carefully leaving out the details about how your hair bounced in his dreams, how your lips wrapped around the cigarette you two shared, and it was you, generally, who had him in that desperate chokehold.

You can’t help but be intrigued by the idea of this girl only being a mere memory of a few dreams, because, hell, she felt like she was so much more than that; real, and you couldn’t help but identify with her vibe, the resonance her personality flooded, what felt intergalactic, almost.

You were also impressed by the way Mattheo expressed his attraction to this mysticism with all the metaphors he used. The one about the helter-skelter ‘round Arabella’s little finger meaning he was under her spell, got him wrapped around her little finger, and also meaning how confusing his love for this girl is. Or how he describes her as prettier than the sunset. You were convinced that was impossible.

☆☆☆☆

You knew doing this, asking him to go out for a few drinks wasn’t very professional of you.

But you couldn’t help it at the same time.

You wanted to know more, and more, and more about Arabella, but also, about the mastermind behind the lyrics. You were certain you could listen to Mattheo talk pretty much all day and night, as well as listen to him sing for the same amount of time.

Or just stare at him.

And you had. Oh, how much you had listened to him and stared at him at the pub, on the way to your apartment, and during the night; while he was rocking his hips against yours and during the aftermath, as in smoking by your open living room window, the candles, the subtle red light of your vintage record player and the end table light by your black leather couch creating an ambient light for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company.

He was growing more and more infatuated with you, and he knew he was walking a dangerous sole, a slippery slope that could lead to heartbreak if his obvious feelings for you had been unrequited.

But they weren’t, and you made that obvious by repeating this night over and over, and by always making coffee for the both of you the next morning, always finding an excuse for him to stay a bit longer, and never missing an opportunity to talk to him.

Sitting by the narrow counter island over your coffee, you glanced over at him while playing with the ring on your thumb that you took off of Mattheo’s index finger the previous night, the one with the emerald-eyed snake. “That night, at the concert. You called me Arabella. Why?” you asked, having no clue how to word it at first.

He took a bit of time before answering.

“Because you are. You are the girl from and of my dreams,” he took your hand in his and pressed his lips to your knuckles.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @mqstermindswift @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez

[callmebrycelee]

I've been mulling this over for the last few days and I figured I'd just put what I'm thinking out there in hopes that someone will understand what I'm coming from. I'm reading a wonderful fanfic where Buck leaves the 118 and goes to work at Air Operations. He is paired with Tommy and the two of them strike up a friendship and an eventual romance. I'm only a few chapters into the story and there's a conversation where Buck and Tommy are relaying their backstories to each other. Buck talks about getting crushed by the fire engine, the subsequent surgery and setback, and him suing the LAFD. Tommy talks about his time in the Army and ultimately joining the 118. He goes into vivid detail about every single awful thing he did to Chimney and Hen. He ends the story by telling Buck that even though the Chimney and Hen chose to forgave him, he can't quite move past his guilt and works hard daily to become a better person. The thing I've been mulling over is the concept of white guilt and how it often triumphs over forgiveness extended by people of color. I find this so funny because even when people of color, esepcially Black people, are at their most vulnerable and open, whiteness still finds a way to be greater than.

Now I'm not here to excuse any of what Tommy did during his time at the 118, but I have to admit that the majority of the people I have seen taking umbrage with Tommy and his behavior, even after he has been forgiven by those whom he offended, and even after he has taken strides to change, are white, non-queer individuals. And before we making this a B*ddie versus BuckTommy situation, I have seen individuals from both sides of the fence taking Tommy to task.

Before I jump into my thoughts on this, let me just say that I'm a Black man. I'm also a queer man. Most importantly I'm a Black queer man and let me tell you a little something about poor behavior from white people. It happens so much and so frequent that oftentimes I don't even see it happening until I am allowed to have a moment to process and reflect. With that said, quite a few of my close friends and acquaintances are white and all of them at some point have said or done something deliberately or accidentally offensive to me. Now not all Black and/or queer people are a monolift so let me make this very clear right now. I am speaking on behalf of myself and myself only.

Now that I've gotten out of the way, I will say that in any and all cases where I have been offended, my forgiveness is more for myself than the other person. Forgiveness is something I do to protect my peace. I fundamentally understand how whiteness works here in America and I understand how it operates. You don't get to half 39 years as a Black queer person without learning this. Especialy living in the the south. I also realize that at the apex of whiteness is the white, straight male and whether we realize it or not, we all, for the most part, at some point, seek proximity to him. You see this happen with white women, with Black men, and evenwith gay white men. In fact, the only group you don't tend to see this with is Black queer women and I believe this is because they are truly the antithesis of the white apex.

With that said, any time my friends or acquaintances have behaved badly, especially towards me, especially regarding my race and/or sexuality, I understand where that energy comes from. I really do. And, if we are being truly transparent here, there have been moments in my younger existence where I actively participated in the oppression of Black women and queer people. I, too, was a Tommy who hid myself by participating in the toxicity directed towards queer people. And yes, I felt tremendous guilt for my actions when I had time to reflect.

Here is the thing people forget about guilt. Much like grief, guilt ebbs and flows, and it doesn't really go away. What happens, or what should happen, is that your world gets bigger and bigger to the point where that grief or that guilt doesn't occupy as much space. That's exactly what I believe has happened to Tommy Kinard. Yes, he still feels bad about what he did to his friends back then (and he should) but his world has gotten so much bigger since then. That guilt that was once a loud roar is hopefully only a whisper now because he has done the work to understand why he behaved the way he did and has taken strides to be a better version of himself.

So, to all the white, non-queer individuals out there who have been taking Tommy to task for things he did a long time ago, things he's been forgiven of a long time ago, parts of himself that he has made better, ask yourself this one simple question. Why should my guilt (white guilt) be bigger than the forgiveness provided to him by those he offended? Second question I would ask you to ask yourself. Why am I demanding that Tommy actively punish himself and be punished for something he has already been forgiven of? When you answer that question, there is one last question I want you to ask yourself. Why am I feeling guilty and projecting that guilt onto someone else?

Again, I am not excusing any of what Tommy Kinard said or did during that time of his life. I just find it strange that so many of you are condemining him of something he once did when you should be asking yourself, am I actively participating in the oppression of those around me. There's a 99.9% chance you are so maybe focus on your own garden before you start asking others to clean up theirs. Also, for those of you coming at this from the angle of, well we didn't see Hen and Chimney forgive him. So what! Unless you have a camera following you around 24/7, no one will ever get to see you be forgiven of the fucked up stuff you've been doing. Most of all, stop projecting onto fictional characters. It's weird. Okay, those are my thoughts. Do what with them what you wish. As always, these are my opinions.

[fernandopiastri28]

tags: f2 alpine oscar x mark webber's daughter

warnings: daddy issues?? poor father-daughter relationship, jealousy

Anyone but webber - Oscar Piastri

Rule 2: Don't avoid your problems, face them

For the next few months, she finds just about every excuse to not see Oscar. She’ll leave the house if she knows Oscar is coming around, walk in the opposite direction of him if she sees him at the fair and few races she does attend, actively doesn’t follow him while still viewing each of his posts.

It’s anything to try and compress that crush on him, because lord knows if she does allow herself to openly like him like she wishes she could- it’ll end abysmally, likely in tears. Either she’ll find out Oscar feels quite literally nothing towards her, or her father will somehow get inbetween them, and it’ll just be awful and uncomfortable. 

That’s not to say she doesn’t miss their interactions though. Sometimes, her dad borderline forces her to talk to Oscar, and each time, it just feels so right. He’s so nice, and he’s funny, and he’s just everything. In any other situation, she would’ve made the first move a while ago- but it’s just not meant to be, and she knows that.

She hates when he waves at her from across the garage, or smiles at her while he’s deep in conversation with her dad, because it just makes everything harder on her. Her dad tries to bring up Oscar during their dinner talks around the table and she consistently shuts down the topic of him which leaves them in complete silence.

Because if Mark can’t talk about Oscar, he just won’t talk at all.

So by avoiding Oscar, she loses 2 people- Oscar himself, and her own father.

What a fucking shit situation. 

It’s a few months after the first initial dinner with the three of them that Oscar is invited over for a second one. After a lot of debating with herself, she decides not to stick around to see him. She makes up some excuse about having pre-existing plans to catch up with some friends from secondary school that she plans to tell her dad, until she realises he’s not going to care anyways. He doesn’t need a huge explanation for her, because if anything, he’ll be celebrating some time to talk on Oscar one on one, so she settles with just saying that she’ll be out for the night. 

When she does tell him, he gives her a tight smile, telling her to go have fun and to stay safe. She doesn’t hear the end of whatever he’s saying because she’s already out the door, and he doesn’t take notice to it anyways- too engrossed in his work.

As much as she’s bummed that she won’t be seeing Oscar tonight, she already knows that as long as her dad is around to be invested in their conversations- it’s not going to be anything overwhelmingly enjoyable for her.

Sure, he’s very pleasant to look at and is someone she definitely enjoys being around, she’d rather hangout with him if it’s just the two of them. If she’s given the option to tag along with the two men- she’ll just skip it. it’s enough to see him at the occasional races she tags along at, or the few times he appears on her explore page or timeline. 

Truly though if it was up to her, she’d gladly see him far more often- away from her father, and just able to speak to him for hours on end, but he simply doesn’t have the free time for that, nor would he likely want to, so she settles for pixels on a screen and his prerecorded voice.

Her night dies pretty young as the dinner with her friends ends earlier than expected, and she can’t really be bothered all too much to stay out drinking for much longer, so she signs off for the night and makes her way home. The living room lights are clearly still on as she stops in front of their house, which means her dad is still up.

If he’s still up, Oscar’s still here. Maybe, hopefully, her dad is all talked out and has retreated to bed by this point, leaving Oscar for her to talk to for a while, maybe. It’s an unlikely maybe though, because Mark Webber isn’t one for getting tired of talking, especially when the topic is Oscar or involves Oscar in some way.

Her key slips into the keyhole, rattling around a few times before the door clicks open. Sure enough, that familiar woody and peppery scent fills her senses, and the view of Oscar follows soon after. He looks so domestic, rugged up in a thick alpine hoodie. Differing shades of light and dark blue especially flattering his features. 

“Hey Oscar,” She leans against the door frame, slightly celebrating when she notices her dad isn’t present in the room. She kicks of her shoes, nudging them across the floor into the corner of the room.

“Hey Spider,” He grins, already using her nickname on their maybe 5th time meeting. She’s given up on telling him to not call her that, because at this point, it’s growing on. It’s so familiar, so intimate and endearing. 

“Mark told me you were out tonight, ended early?” Mark, it’s better than referring to him as ‘your dad’, it takes away some of the awkward shame she gets that she has a crush on her father’s employee. 

Because that still just feels a thousand degrees of wrong.

There’s a beer can right in front of him, dripping condensation onto their wooden table. There’s not a coaster in sight and she would bet a hundred dollars that Mark assured him it was fine if he just ‘leaves the drink there,’ and ‘don’t worry about a coaster’. Whereas she would’ve been scolded over and over for ‘ruining’ the wood. 

Oscar has about every privilege from Mark that she never gets. He can’t make a mistake in her dad’s eyes, but that’s all she ever does.

“Yeaaah, just feeling kinda tired” Her fingers clasp on the zipper of her jacket, pulling it down. She shrugs it off, hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. “Also figured I’d enjoy talking to you for a bit if you were still here,” 

When she looks back up at him, he’s holding a tight stare at her. He’s smiling a little, the corners of his pale lips twisted into a stupidly cute grin. “I’m honoured you’d choose me to talk to,” He shuffles around in the armchair, picking up the beer can just to have something to fiddle with. “I think your dad is upstairs, doing some organisational things for next season. Thought it was just gonna be me for a while- so,” He swallows, the muscles of his thick neck flexing hard, “Thanks for coming back early,” 

She takes a seat on the couch next to the chair he’s in, leaning towards him as her elbow rests on the arm of it. “I clearly just sensed you were lonely and tipsy,” She shrugs, watching him take a tensed sip of his beer. 

“Not tipsy, not tipsy at all,” He defends, shaking his head as he places it back down in front of him. “I’ve had about 3 sips over the course of 2 hour. Not a huge beer person, was more just to be polite to Mark,” His cheeks are decorated in a rosy flush, either from the cold or, the beer- or most hopefully, from speaking to her.

She’s often too hopeful for her own good.

“I’ll finish it for you if you really don’t want it,” She offers, watching him slide it towards her almost instantaneously. “Thanks,” It’s warmer than she’d usually like to drink beer, but the especially warm feeling on the spout where his lips had previously been sends stupid, lovestick excitement through her already slightly inebriated body. 

It’s kind of like they’re kissing, kinda.

God, that’s such a childish crush thought.

His mouth open slightly to allow his tongue to nudge out, dampening his lips, “Where’d you go tonight?” He asks, his fingers nudging into the ridges of a throw pillow under his arm, distracting his hands now that he doesn’t have the can for that.

“Just some bar,” Her tongue rolls around along the inside of her cheek, an oral fixation to keep her occupied. “Nothing fancy or anything, probably more boring than your night,” He flushes at her tease, his jaw pushing forward to conceal the grin on his face somewhat.

“I doubt that. I love racing, but the actual logistics of everything I have to do, that's not actually just driving… not as glamorous.” He purses his lips, his teeth gritting like he’s desperately trying to think something through. “I was sorta hoping you’d be here tonight,” 

It sets off fireworks in her stomach, a burning sensation from her scalp down to the tips of her toes. It’s like finding out your middle school crush likes you back, or kissing some cute boy during a game of spin the bottle. It’s not much, just a casual and meaningless arrangement or words, yet it’s enough to get her all flustered and awkward. 

“I came home early just to see you, if that means anything,” She pours the rest of the liquid courage down her throat, gagging at the lukewarm bitterness. It tastes awful, but anything to get her to force that confession out into the world is worth it. 

He doesn’t reply for a few moments, just stares blankly ahead at her. His eyes seem to burn holes into her, like he can see past the confident facade she puts up. Like he sees her. She’s not his boss's daughter, she’s not some paddock girl, she’s.. she’s her own person. 

In the seconds following, Oscar’s gaze doesn’t falter once. There’s a moment where if feels like nothing in the world exists outside of the cozy living room, that they’re completely isolated from anything beyond themselves. 

It’s strange to think her dad and his boss is quite literally tapping away on a computer upstairs, just out of ears reach.

Her lips feel awkwardly dry, so she fumbles around with her hand in her pocket, grabbing out a lipbalm. She smears it across her mouth, just staring at Oscar as he looks back at her. They don’t say a word, not sure where to go from here. There’s not necessarily any regret she feels from what she said to him, but it would be a whole lot easier if he would just say something in response.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally breaks the silence, his voice soft and a little hesitant. “It does,” He nods, that stupidly endearing little smirk on his face. He’s just so stupid, stupidly perfect, stupidly cute, stupidly not allowed to be hers. “It does mean something,”

His smile widens, his bunny teeth just slightly more apparent. She thinks they’re just about the cutest thing about him. “I’m glad you came back, I was hoping we’d finally get the chance to talk,” He gestures vaguely with his hands, and she’s come to notice how charasmatic he is with his hand movements when he’s speaking, “You know, outside of the racing scene.” 

He pauses for a moment, his words stuck on the end of his tongue, “Without your dad around,” 

This is a moment she’s forced herself not to think about ever since the first time she properly met Oscar. She’s forced her crush on him to the deepest depths of herself for so long. So now that it’s happening, she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do. Does she lean in? does she kiss him? Who makes the first move?

Those questions stop as before another one can procure in her mind, Oscar’s stood up from his chair and moved onto the couch. The space between them isn’t even the smallest it’s ever been, but, god, he feels so close.

Oscar’s eyes flicker down to her lips for a moment, and she’s so grateful she put on that lipbalm on just before this. She wonders what his lips would look like if they kissed, if her pink and glossy lipbalm would get on his lips- hard cold evidence of what they did together.

 Her breath catches in her throat as his eyes meet hers once again, “What happens next?” His voice is low, like they’re sharing a secret. It is in a way, no one can ever know about this. It’s going to be their precious little secret, something they’ll smile about when their eyes meet in the paddock, that they’ll get rosy cheeked over at dinner when their fingertips touch. 

The words are on the very tip of her tongue, ‘just kiss me’, her brain is begging her to just get out with it, blurt it out. There’s something in the way he’s looking at her, verging on depraved, like he’s waiting for her to be the one to make the first move.

She bites the bullet, taking control over the situation, “I think we stop pretending this is just friendly,” She conceals the shake in her voice, “And we stop worrying about my dad being a factor in this,”

Oscar’s eyes light up at her words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  It’s like he’s been waiting for her to say that, and now that she has, there’s no turning back. “I like that idea,” he leans in closer, his breath warm against her cheek.

last chapter, next chapter

sorry for the cliffhanger!! but i hope u guys liked this chapter and i've already started chapter3, so you wont be waiting too long

taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party, @forza-charles, @sltwins, @sweetwh0re, @lucktales

[dont-tell-anyone-im-here]

Obsession

You may be attracted to your career counselor, but he was obsessed with you.

***TW: Power Imbalance; Stalking; Obsessive Behavior; Breaking and Entering; CNC; Choking; Dirty Talk; Rough Oral; Forced Penetration; Afton/Raglan are not good people so they're written as such***

Tags: Reader Has No Specific Genitalia; Oral M Receiving; Masturbation; Sex Toy; Pet Names (White Rabbit/Bunny); x Reader; Blowjob; Penetration; Cross-Posted AO3

It was hard looking for jobs on your own. Especially in this day and age with the classifieds drowning in ads that aren’t even job listings. You are known as a, “job-hopper”, and in the somewhat-small town that you lived in, it was starting to get difficult to find a position that you hadn’t already filled. Luckily, you were the ideal customer for Mr. Steve Raglan, “Career Counselor Extraordinaire”. (At least that’s what he introduced himself as when you had first met.) Other career counselors had given up on you, not seeing a reason to try to get someone employed if they’re just going to quit within a month. However, he saw dollar signs with you. Why would he push away someone who’s a repeat customer? He’d be more than happy to help you, as long as the checks cleared.

You sought help from this man to find work and it was unfortunate that things had to be professional. Steve Raglan wasn’t the usual type to be the object of your sexual desires. It was rare to find yourself fantasizing about older men that weren’t celebrities that littered magazines and the big screen. Silver foxes of the real world were few and far between, and most didn’t age as gracefully as your career counselor. You admit, you weren’t attracted to him when you had first met. He seemed to be like any other middle-aged man trying to get by with an office job that he hated. The second time you met, he was surprised to see you back, joking that he must be losing his touch if you were back so quick. You found that this dry sense of humor was something that you would look forward to hearing at your appointment by the fourth time you had met. It was during the fifth appointment that you noticed how intensely he looked at you from across the desk when you spoke. You noticed the veins in his forearms as he would hand you paperwork. He had strange, patterned scars burned into his skin that sparked curiosity within you, but you never dared to ask. You noticed how he studied every move you would make, like he was dissecting you in his mind, trying to figure out what exact muscles were used to make your body move like that. After you started to notice the little things, you couldn’t stop. Every time you’d come into his office, he’d shake your hand, and every time you’d try not to pay too much attention to how easily his hand enveloped yours. You’d try not to stare as he would look over his files, even though it gave you a moment to watch him when he wouldn’t notice. You’d try not to squirm in your seat when he’d stare you down from across his desk, tutting about only staying two weeks on the last job.

As much as you had a little crush on your counselor, you were also a little afraid. That intense stare sent shocks to your core but it always left a part of your stomach churning. Those scars made you worry about how strong he had to be to survive what caused them, strong enough to do something to you. Him studying your body as if for dissection could very possibly be the reality of what was going through his mind. His hands were a reminder of how much bigger he is than you. You weren’t sure if your infatuation gave you rose-tinted glasses to ignore those feelings of danger when with him, but it had seemed that way, because what you felt for your counselor was pure lust. It was becoming near impossible to be able to sit through those meetings, to be under his scrutiny and not beg for him to take you on his desk.

This was now the tenth time you’ve met with Steve Raglan. Or, it will be the moment he calls you back to his office. Your knee bounced as you waited, impatience starting to eat away at you as you looked around the waiting room, seeing that you were the only one in the lobby, the office secretary the only other body in the room. The secretary told you that your counselor would see you in ten minutes when you had arrived, and when you checked your wristwatch, you saw that a half hour had passed. You weren’t upset, moreso annoyed. Why have you show up at a certain time if he’s not even going to abide by it? You fidgeted in your seat, switching the bouncing knee to tapping your fingers on the armrest of your chair. The door to your crush’s office opened and the crush himself stood on the other side, extending an arm to hold the door open for you as you as he called your name. You tried not to look too eager as you jumped up from your chair. You quickly made your way into the office, trying to keep your eyes on your feet as you ducked under his arm to get past. You saw in your peripheral that he held out his free hand for a greeting and you expertly ignored it. There was a subtle frown when you passed him without a handshake, putting his hand into his pant’s pocket without a comment on how much he didn’t like that.

“Late for somethin’, white rabbit?” Mr. Raglan asked as he closed the door behind him, watching you take your seat in front of his desk. He went to his coffee maker, and began pouring himself a cup. He looked over his shoulder at you, raising the coffee pot with a quirked brow. You wave your hand, dismissing him as you got comfortable in your seat. Steve sniffed, putting the carafe back in its place then turning, a mug in hand. You shook your head, ‘tsk’ing as you pulled an exaggerated disappointed look.

“You’re the one that’s late. We were supposed to meet 20 minutes ago.” You chided, picking at your nails. A part of you liked being the one to tease him for once. He let out an, “Ah!” as he understood, taking a brief sip of his coffee before explaining himself.

“Last appointment was rough- desperate for a job and can’t even do nights? You’re makin’ me push a camel through a pinhole.”

Odd. You didn’t notice anyone walk out of the office when you were called back. Maybe you just hadn’t seen them- you were looking at the floor when walking in, they must’ve just slipped by. As rational as you found that explanation, something still seemed off. There was a slight unease in your stomach that you fended off with your rationalizations. You were so busy figuring out your thoughts that you didn’t notice your career counselor place himself between you and his desk, leaning back on it and sipping his coffee as he turned his torso to open your work file, angling it so he could read it better at the position he was in. You came back to reality when you felt his leg press against yours. You couldn’t help the wave of heat that rushed through you upon seeing how close he was. His desk was no longer an island keeping you away, he was right there, you could take him, right then. You wanted to, but kept your face to your lap, still picking at your nails. You didn’t want him to see the growing blush on your cheeks, feeling embarrassed at the thought of him seeing how much you worked yourself up over something so insignificant. He frowned. He didn’t like that you weren’t looking at him.

“So-“ He started, taking a quick glance back on his desk to read something on your file then turning back to you, “- serving drunks ‘til 3 am wasn’t the dream job?”

“More like a nightmare job.” You said as you inched your leg away from his. He didn’t like that either, but his quick flame of anger died out when your eyes finally met, able to look at him without a blush caused by his limited touch. He had raised a brow at your comments, waiting for you to elaborate as he took a sip from his mug.

“It would’ve been different if the drunks were at least cute.” You joked, when the counselor didn’t laugh, you sighed. “But the real answer is that I was tired of the bouncer walking me to my car- most nights he’d try to take me to his car instead.”

“Sounds like the perfect gentleman.” Mr. Raglan muttered, taking another sip of his coffee then setting it down on his desk. “So, cross ’bartender’ off future lists?”

You bobbed your head side to side, thinking, “… All the ones with creepy bouncers and customers.”

“That’s all bartending then.”

You slumped back in your seat, caught up in your own defeat as yet another job became unattainable to you. You slipped further in your chair as you thought of anything else you could possibly do as a career, your mind so preoccupied that you didn’t notice your legs interlock with his. But he did. You were advancing his touch, clearly you wanted him. Images and scenarios clipped through his brain of all the terrible things he wanted to do to you. Bend you in half over his desk, tie you to your chair with your legs spread, push your head into the coffee stained carpet and pound into you until your rug-burned cheeks bled. The things he wanted to do to you just in his office.

“Is there anything like stocking? I could put stuff on shelves.” You broke the quiet of the room. As Steve took a couple extra milliseconds to answer, blinking a few times to bring himself back to reality, you finally saw how your knees had pinned him to his spot.

“Sure- we’ll just trade in the pervy bouncer with a pervy grocer.” He said once he got the image of your crying, naked, marked body out of his imagination.

“I feel like a pervy grocer would be more mild-mannered.” You sat back up, freeing his legs from yours, trying to get rid of the sexual power you felt keeping him in his place. He really didn’t like that. You had somehow managed to piss him off for the third time and you’d only been in his office for five minutes. He was going to have to do something about that.

“Seriously though, do you have any stocking jobs? I can ignore whatever awful thing there is about the place- I just need a job.” You sounded desperate. Oh, that was what he was going to do about that, perfect.

“I don’t think I have anything like that.” Mr. Raglan said flatly, knowing damn well that he had about five different offers of exactly what you were asking for. He just wanted to see you beg, something that he could take home with him for the late hours when he can’t sleep.

“Could you check?” You asked, just as flat, annoyed that he seemed to not care. When he just brought his mug to his lips and drank the last few gulps of his coffee, you added a, “Please?”, as sweetly as you could. He sucked air through his teeth, holding a now empty mug, looking at the coffee remnants pool at the bottom, debating whether he wanted to get another cup or not.

“C’mon, for an old friend?” You joked, adding another “Please?” that dripped with melted sugar. He could listen to you say please like that for the rest of his life and not get enough. He hummed as he weighed the nonexistent options. You looked up at him with clasped hands and a slight pout. You were only being silly, you didn’t know that it was just what he wanted. He wanted to see you pout and beg, give him puppy-dog eyes and look up at him pathetically. It would’ve been picture perfect if you were on your knees. He hid his mischievous smile behind a hand as he pretended to rub his face in thought.

“Lemme take a look.” He ended his sentence by putting his mug behind him on his desk. As Mr. Raglan stepped away from his desk, he patted your knee as he passed. It was something subtle, but it was an action that you’d be thinking about for the rest of the week. The counselor went to one of his filing cabinets, flipping through the files until he found what he was looking for. He closed the cabinet then opened the file, glancing through to make sure it was the right one. It was full of blank applications for a grocery store in town, just what you had asked for, but he wouldn’t let you get them that easily.

“Looks like things are already full of hard-working employees.” He said, flipping the applications about in the file as if he was reading documents. You felt that the ‘hard-working’ bit was a jab at you.

“Is there anything you can do?” You asked, your hands still clasped, your pout a little more severe. He wished there was a way to get you on your knees without outting himself as the actual perv that you should be worried about.

“I may be able to pull a few strings.” He gave a small smile and he closed the file, moving to his desk and taking a seat behind it. He picked up his phone and he dialed the number on the applications.

“Let me make a call.” He winks at you as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as he listened to the ringing line. No one would pick up though. The number he put in was nonsense, he just wanted you to think he was doing a huge favor for you.

“The number you’re trying to reach is unavailable-” The automated message began, but Steve carried on conversation as if someone was on the other line. You squirmed a bit in your seat, his gaze not leaving you as he began to talk into the blaring receiver.

“Yes, this is Steve Raglan, the career counselor? Yeah, how’re you doing today?”

As your career counselor spoke on the phone, convincing this imaginary person to hire you, you tried to look around his office. Your eyes went from each object in the room. The coffee maker, the little table it sat on, the little trash can under it. But his eyes felt like they were burning into you. Your gaze was magnetically drawn back to him whenever you tried to focus on something else, you felt like you couldn’t look anywhere else but at him. When you finally gave in, making eye contact, he grinned. A chill ran down your spine.

“I know- I know you said that you’re full of stockers over there but I got a very hard worker here that is in a bind.” Mr. Raglan sat back in his chair, uncrossing his legs to push back a bit from under the desk to make room for his long legs. You immediately looked at how his legs spread apart to get comfortable. You could fit perfectly between his thighs, hide under his desk and quietly suck him off as he tried to keep a straight face as he met with his clients. You looked back to his face and he was still staring at you, his grin growing. You looked down to your lap, embarrassed, beginning to feel like it was too hot in this office.

“They’re very experienced with dealing with authority, they take orders well.”

You couldn’t help but think that he meant more than what he was saying. You took a glance back up to see that his eyes never left you. You felt like you were sweating buckets at this point. You started to pick at your nails again, needing something to focus on besides his searing gaze that somehow still felt so dark and cold. Mr. Raglan’s voice picked up, your ears perking to his tone, yet you kept your gaze to your hands.

“I’m willing to put my reputation on the line here- if you can’t hire them, you can take me off your call list.” 

There it was. He was putting his credentials on the line for you. He almost felt too prideful when he saw your eyes widen hearing him. You were convinced that he was willing to go so far for you. He watched you fiddle with your fingers, knowing you were trying not to look at him.

“Yeah, send a fax of the application and I’ll have them fill it out, and I’ll send it right back.”

Steve put the phone on “hold”, pushing a button and setting the phone back on the receiver. His elbows propped up on the arm rests of his chair and he raised hands up, giving the air of a humble brag for his technique of negotiation.

“Am I good, or what?” He said, flashing a smile before getting up, picking up the file of all the applications he had and leaving the room. He had to kill a few minutes to make it look like he was picking up the fax from the secretary. He walked back to the employee common area of the offices, going through the cupboards for the sake of doing something, saying a quick hello to the coworkers that passed him. He walked back out and went into the bathroom, the file still in hand. He felt too clever for this, feeling sinful for being so proud of himself for how smart he was. It was the little details that made the lie all the more believable. Taking out one of the applications, he tucked the file of remaining papers under his arm. He activated the hand drying machine, holding the paper underneath the fan that loudly roared hot air onto it. He ran each sheet of paper under the fan for the allotted time of the machine, getting off-looks from the other employees who had come in to use the restroom or were leaving, (who opted for drying their hands with the paper towels).

When your counselor handed you the application for your new job, it was still warm off the printer.

“Oh thank you, Mr. Raglan, thank you!” You said as you quickly filled the papers out, thanking the counselor over and over in a mantra of gratitude. He took in your thanks, wanting to remember you thanking him repeatedly for when he’s by himself with wandering hands. You have an excited grin when you hand back the papers, his smile felt so genuine as he took the application to fax back out to the employer. You still couldn’t believe that he had stuck his neck out like that for you. You watched as he got up and left the room once again. Your eyes wandered as you waited. You noticed the counselor’s desk phone, and that there wasn’t the usual blinking light of a call on hold. Odd. That unease in your stomach returned. It felt like a primal sense of dread. It disappeared when the door opened, Mr. Raglan smiling as he came in and sat back down at his chair, following your gaze when you glanced at the phone again.

“Ah, looks like they hung up on me.” He frowns, but his smile returns when he gives you his full attention.

“I’ll have to give him a call back.”He placed his hands on top of the files on his desk, folding them neatly as he looked you in the eyes. “I’ll let you know if you got the job or not when I can.”

“Thank you Mr. Raglan! You don’t realize how much this means to me.” You say, slightly bowing your head in gratitude. “Please, if there’s anything I could do for you to repay you- let me know.”

That chimed in his head like church bells. Oh, he could use that. You probably thought maybe a fruit basket or a cheap ticket to a game, but he had other ideas.

You got up from your seat, seeing that now was the right time to leave.

“I know you kinda put your reputation on the line for me, I’d really like to be able to show my gratitude somehow.” You add with a smile, making your way to his office door, him following you to it.

“Oh, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He smiles, opening the door and holding out a hand. You gladly took it, shaking it with a newfound giddiness that could only be from getting a chance that was undeserved. You didn’t know how much he would be thinking about this, going over every single second in his mind over and over, reading too deeply into how grateful you were. You were indebted to him now, and you were going to have to repay that debt, whether you wanted to or not. He watched you walk out of the office, and you could feel his hot gaze on your back as you did, you tried not to shiver.

When you had completely gone, Steve looked at the clock and pretended to debate in his mind, acting like he was trying to make a tough decision before telling the secretary that he’ll be in his office the rest of the day, so he’ll see them tomorrow. They bid their goodbye, giving a small smile and wave as he closed the door and locked it behind him. He reached to his neck and loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, and stood in front of his desk, leaning back on it as he had done when you had first walked in. He stared at the empty chair in front of him, imagining you sitting there, naked, legs spread, and mouth open. He shuddered a breath as he couldn’t help himself undoing his belt buckle and reaching into his pants. God, he was rock hard. He replayed in his mind you begging for him to help you, hearing your pleads echo in his ears, only now asking him for help to make you cum. He didn’t realize he was so close until it was too late, cumming on the empty seat and imagining he had done so on your face, once again, your voice echoing in his head your repeated gratitude of before, now thanking him for his seed decorating your body. His grip on his desk was hard as he panted, your figure fading away as he came down from his high. He rubbed his face with his clean hand, taking a deep breath before finally calming down and out of sheer curiosity, he checked his wrist watch. You had only left his office 7 minutes ago.

As he cleaned up, the inner cogs and mechanisms of his brain began to turn and devise a plan. A plan on how he was going to get that payment out of you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a beautiful day outside, perfect for a nice walk in the neighborhood with a dog on a leash and nothing but the sun and the birds to tag along. Yet Steve Raglan sat in his car, parked at the side of the street in a suburban neighborhood. He looked down at the file in front of him. Its papers were unorganized but he easily found what he searched for, as if he’s been studying the pages for months.

That was because he had been, and it was your file.

Since you’ve become a repeat client of his, he’d become more intrigued by you with each meeting. The intrigue became a dark obsession, and it has now come to a head. He was parked about a block away from your home, feeling that overwhelming self-pride at figuring out when your neighbors were usually out, leaving a suspicious car to go unnoticed in your neighborhood. (At least for the amount of time he predicted he would have with you.) He really was too clever. 

As he glanced at the sidewalks around him, seeing how many people were around, he thought of how long it had been since he had last seen you, and how it was because of the absence of you that he was there. It’d been over five months. You’ve been excelling at your new job at the grocery store. The store manager had called him to say that “he had sent a great employee to him”, and that if “he had any others like you to send them right over!” He scoffed after he had hung up the phone. There wasn’t anyone else like you. That’s why he was obsessed with you.

He got out of his car, closing the door and locking it before pocketing the keys. He began a walk down the block, something he’s grown familiar with. This wasn’t the first time that he’s walked your streets. He preferred to do it at night, memorizing the walk to your house in the dark and taking peeks into your windows from the view of the sidewalk, not wanting to draw too much attention if anyone happened to be looking out the window. He wanted to stare into your windows desperately, to watch you, but he couldn’t hurt this good thing he had going. He could walk past your home at night and see you lounging in your living room, completely unaware he stared at you as he passed your home, it was bliss.

Today, however, was different. He was going to actually go into your home. He really was too smart, he knew everything about you and today he would finally get to execute on his plan. From the outside, it would look like he knocked on your door, and that you let him in. But he was actually going to pretend to knock on your door, and act out you letting him inside. He was going to overstay his welcome, whether you liked it or not, and he was going to get away with it. He knew that you would be home today, he had gotten your schedule from your employer, as an old favor for an old friend. He knew from small talk that you lived by yourself, and that you didn’t have a dog. He had even suggested that you should get a dog, you’re all alone, who knows what could happen.

Steve finally came to your street, holding back his urge to run the rest of the way to your house. As he approached your home he took a quick glance through the windows. You weren’t in the living room. Perfect. As he stood on your front porch, he took a deep breath, taking a final moment to prepare himself for what he was about to do. With the lightest touch, he knocked on the door, his knuckles barely registering on the wood. No response from inside the house. Perfect. He tried the door knob. He hadn’t expected for it to turn with a soft click- he had a screwdriver to jam into the doorframe if it wasn’t- yet the door was unlocked. Perfect. Swiftly he opened the door, peering inside carefully, no one in sight. Perfect. He stepped into your house, closing the door behind him, and locking it. He dropped to a crouch, untying his shoes and leaving them neatly by the entrance, carefully placing his keys in the shoe so as not to make any unnecessary noise. He crept further into your home, sticking to the walls to not creak your floorboards, taking every precaution to not let you know he was there. After checking the kitchen, which was empty, he made his way to the halls, starting to hear a sound he couldn’t quite place. It sounded sloppy, wet. A door in the hall was ajar, the sound coming from there. Another sound joined the wet slapping and he grinned. He realized he actually knew what that sound was. As gently as possible, he opened the door more, slinking inside and quietly closing the door, locking it before finally turning to what was in the room.

He could’ve fallen to his knees seeing the state you put yourself in. Your naked ass in the air, your face pressed into your mattress, unbeknownst to you, giving Steve Raglan full view of you masturbating. One of your hands clawed at the edge of the bed as the other worked between your legs, pumping a dildo in and out of you, desperately trying to get yourself off. Your muffled whimpers could still be heard through the blankets, pulling your head up only to breathe and plead to the open air to make yourself cum. Your arm ached, but your need to satisfy yourself overpowered what fatigue ailed your muscles. You found a compromise by slowly pulling the sex toy out, your moans drawn out like a song, before slamming it back into you with a guttural cry.

“Misterrr...” You drawled from deep in your throat. Steve’s ears perked. He was more than interested in knowing who you were imagining as you fucked yourself, jealous bile rising in his throat at the thought of you thinking of someone else. He could easily walk forward, spread your ass apart and have his way with you, teach you a lesson for thinking someone else could make you like this. His envy quickly changed to pure hunger when you continued your lustful ramblings.

“Mr. Raglan, please…” You begged into the bed, repeatedly pulling the dildo then bottoming out, each squelch punctuated with your helpless whimpers. His mouth went dry when his name left your lips, your words going straight to his cock. He was already erect seeing you in this position, but now knowing that you were in the throes of ecstasy because of the mere thought of him? He couldn’t take his dick out fast enough. His grip was hard on the metal of his belt, not wanting to alarm you of his presence. He didn’t want you to know he was here, not yet. This was a surprise for him, and he wanted to return the favor with a surprise of his own. He felt he could already burst watching you lose yourself over him. He wanted to make you never forget him, no matter how hard you tried to fuck yourself, it could never be him. He was more than happy to remind you. He carefully took off his belt and set it aside, rarely taking his eyes off you, especially when your pace began to quicken. His hand wrapped around his hard cock, swiftly pulling it over the waistband of his boxers and matching your pace, watching intently how tightly you wrapped around the sex toy. He bit back his own moans as he imagined it was his cock you were rocking back into, his teeth scraping his bottom lip to hold himself back.

Your hand became erratic, your rhythm lost to the coil in your stomach tightening to a point you felt sore. You planted your face into the blankets as you pushed your arm through the last bit of energy it had, you cried out. A warm liquid coats your legs as you finally came, your back arching as you rode out your euphoria, panting as if you haven’t breathed in hours. Your hand fell to the bed, leaving the dildo to slowly fall out of you and thump to the mattress. Steve could’ve screamed watching your relaxed muscles push the toy out of you, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, and with a long stride, he was directly behind you. The hair on the back of your neck prickled, finally out of your stupor enough to feel like you were being watched.

But it was too late.

A cold hand slapped across your mouth and you felt a weight on your back as someone leaned onto you. You could feel something hard rubbing against your ass and you whimpered against the strong hand, feeling tears begin to prick your eyes as the situation settled in. Who is this? How’d they get in? What were they going to do to you? Were you going to die before or after they were done with you? Your nose stung as the tears pooled in your eyes, you felt so vulnerable, so scared, starting to feel sobs build in your chest as you found yourself begin to pray to whatever higher power existed to save you from this. You felt there was no other option. You were cornered and you were alone with someone who had intentions that you didn’t even want to fathom.

“Aww, what’s wrong, white rabbit? I thought this was what you were fantasizing about.” A voice cooed into your ear. Your eyes went wide, your tears sliding down your cheeks as you recognized the voice. You knew who was behind you, and you were sure you didn’t find  that comforting. You looked over your shoulder to see Mr. Steve Raglan. He was so close to you, your lips could’ve met if it wasn’t for his rough hand muzzling your lips. There was something in his eyes, something that made fear shoot down your spine to the bottoms of your feet. You felt disgusted with yourself as a tinge of excitement pooled in your groin as you saw he was naked from the waist down. Of course this would turn you on.

But, he wasn’t wrong. You were fantasizing about him, wanting him behind you in this exact position, fucking you. It could become a reality now and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As much as you wanted to fight against this, a part of you knew he didn’t have to take you by force. You wanted to say something, to tell him all he had to do was ask and you would’ve let him have his way with you, but his hand was firm on your lips, muffling what little noises you could make. You watched him as his other hand started trailing up your thigh to your ass, spreading one of your cheeks apart for his dick to slide right in between. 

“Perfect fit.” He grunts, leaning back for a brief moment so he could take in how neatly your ass wrapped around his cock. You couldn’t stop your hips from pushing back into him, an animalistic instinct wanting him to be pressed against you once more. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned back down, it felt degrading.

“So quick for your next fix.” His teeth ran along the side of your neck before placing a chaste kiss behind your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “But you want the real thing, don’t you?”

You nodded, whining against his hand as your ass ground his hips. He let out a breathy moan, desperate, wanton. He was as needy as you were, his free hand beginning to roam your naked body as if he couldn’t feel enough of your skin. It was as if he was starving, a crazed man who couldn’t be satisfied. Your fear, though still very present, ebbed away at the edges, feeling a wave of authority surge through you as you realized just how desperate Mr. Raglan was.

You could control this situation if you wanted to.

But right now, even though you knew how fucked this was, what you really wanted was for him to do whatever he wanted with you. His free hand came back up your hips, slowly reaching around, calloused fingertips tickling your skin as he teased you, only touching your pelvis, somehow scraping past without actually touching you. You felt his dick pulsing between your ass cheeks and you moaned against his hand. He let go of your mouth, moving down your jaw, down your neck, gripping your shoulder tightly as a new way to keep you in place underneath him.

“Mr. Raglan, please-” you breathed, pulling your hips away from him to allow his dick to slide right against your entrance, getting onto your elbows to ready yourself. You heard him laugh aloud at how ready you were to have him in you. “I want you to-”

You didn’t even finish your request. He grabbed himself and was pushing into you. You gasped. It was burning. It was burning inside of you and you loved it. Fuck, you wanted this burn to overtake you, to completely consume you. As you caught your breath, Steve groaned, blinking hard as he gathered himself. His plan was going perfectly. This was everything he wanted and more. (Well, he kind of wanted more of a fight, but beggars can’t be choosers.)

He was the perfect size for you, fuck, his dick felt exactly like you had imagined it would, if not more amazing. He filled you completely and you couldn’t ask for anything better. His fingers drummed once before gripping your hips, finally back in his own body after the thrilling experience of just entering you. You felt better than he had imagined, if not more amazing. He had been dreaming about this, obsessing about this for months on end, never leaving his train of thought, and he finally had it. He leaned forward against your arched back, one hand moving slowly up your body from your hips, and wrapping lightly around your throat, his lips by your ear, breathing lowly. You felt his fingers begin to squeeze your neck, your breathing hitched into a moan.

“This is what you get for teasing me with that body of yours.” He says into your ear, his hold on your hip growing tighter. “You come into my office, sat there with your legs spread- god, you wanted me to fuck you right then and there, didn’t you? You’re such a slut.”

Steve began to move his hips.

He wasn’t slow or gentle and it didn’t matter if you weren’t ready, he did as he pleased and you were meant to just go along for the ride. His grip was tight around your throat and you could feel your face growing hot with blood gathering in your head. You felt amazing. Your eyes rolled back as you wasted what little air you had on uncontrollably moaning. You choked out a whiny, “Please,” that he rewarded by releasing his vice, allowing you to take a few deep breaths before his grasp tightened once again, earning a moan that he found particularly delicious.

“Listen to you whine- it’s pathetic.” He grunts under his breath, slowing down for a moment so that you can actually hear him over the sound of your skin slapping together with each thrust.

“I knew you wanted me to destroy you the moment your skin touched mine- that first handshake was enough to tell me just how desperate you were for someone to show you how it’s done.”

You can’t respond with words, only able to whimper and groan the more he choked and fucked you. He released his grip around your throat and as you gasped for air, his fingers massaging the sides of your throat. It was almost a nice feeling, especially coupled with the quick pecks he left at the corner of your jaw. But then his hand moved up under your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks to force your mouth open.

“I want to hear you. I want to fucking hear you tell me how desperate you are for me.” He demands, his pace picking up again, throwing you into moans. Your jaw hurt from being pried open, his nails stabbing into your skin, but you still couldn’t give an answer. Not getting what he wanted, you felt his hand on your hip let go, then his arm wrap around your waist. You felt yourself being lifted off your elbows to an upright position on your knees, his dick reaching a new spot inside of you. The moan that escaped you was almost unnecessarily loud. You felt a chuckle rumble against your back, he was laughing at you, though it was between his own quiet, breathless moans.

“That’s not what I told you to do.” He hisses, though he didn’t let up, knowing you’d struggle to get anything out other than sounds of ecstasy.

“Hng- I was- fuck- so des- ah!- ‘perate,” You’re finally able to spit out. He slowed, allowing you to speak more. “I wanted you- fucking christ, I want you so bad-“

Steve took a hefty bite into your neck, sucking and grinding his teeth with your skin between, your groan mixed with the sound of his pelvis hitting your ass over and over in an unrelenting fuck that made you feel as if your body would soon give out. When he pulled away, it was already beginning to bruise. He thought the hue of red looked wonderful on you.

“If you want my dick so bad-” Without warning he pulled completely out of you, making you cry out upon feeling an emptiness you’ve never experienced before. He let go of you, your body collapsing onto the bed, you hadn’t realized he was the only thing holding you upright. As you collect yourself, whining about how close you were to cumming, you looked up and found him standing at the edge of the bed, hovering over you. You licked your lips at the sight of his treasure trail to his erect cock, glistening from being inside you, now inches away from your mouth.

“Why don’t you choke on it.” He finishes, grabbing the back of your head and forcing your gasping mouth around him. For the first time you heard him moan. Really moan. It was intoxicating, you instantly wanted to make him do that again, you needed to hear him make that noise again. Maybe if you were good, you would. His dick tasted like you and you hated how much you loved it, living up to being a so-called “slut”. You opened the back of your throat, doing everything you could to take him in entirely. You let him hold your head in place as he fucked your mouth, more moans escaping him that you rewarded by taking him even deeper. Your teeth dragged along his shaft and you heard him hiss- the sharp sting of his hand slaps your cheek.

It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark, but it was hard enough to tell you to, “Knock that shit off.” The sudden slap did, however, cause you to lose focus on keeping your airway open, and you were now choking on the dick that was halfway down your throat. Your chest seized, but he didn’t let you move, still deep in your mouth. It seemed your struggling only made him more excited, his grunts increasing the more you gagged. You were able to wiggle your arms out from under your body and reach for his legs, tapping one of his thighs twice as if asking for a tap out in a wrestling match.

Surprisingly, Steve listened, pulling out of your mouth, letting you cough and catch your breath. You could feel tears streak your face as you looked up at him with bleary eyes, and he grinned. The very same grin you saw when he had gotten you the job at the grocery store. That familiar feeling of unease churned in your stomach, if it was anymore intense you would be nauseous. It was then the fog of hormones cleared and the reality of what was currently happening came upon you.

Finally, it registered to you that he had been planning this.

What was happening right now, at this moment, was all part of a scheme he designed. Him getting you the job, him breaking into your home, him fucking you. You weren’t sure what the outcome of the plan would be. You hoped it wasn’t with your dead, naked body in bed.

But you’d be damned if he murdered you because you were a bad lay.

Not knowing if you were doing this out of your own will to survive, (or if you were just so horny you couldn’t help yourself,) you looked him in the eye, and took his cock into your mouth to the hilt. You saw his eyes roll back, and the moan that emitted from him was enough to tell you that you would not be dying tonight.

“Oooh, white rabbit,” He purred, his eyes returning to yours, watching as you drew back and pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside of his dick, allowing him to easily slip in and out of your throat.

“You’re everything I’ve dreamed,” He continues, holding the sides of your head as he gently rocked into your mouth.

“Keep doin’ that an’ I might just keep you with me forever.” He managed to wink at you. You weren’t sure if he meant that as a life partner or as a prisoner.

Your spit collected in his pubes, your chin now coated with a mix of your spit and his pre-cum, not breaking your eye contact with him. Your tongue wrapped around his dick, enjoying the sweet noises he was making. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him more, the grunt he made was almost primal. His grip on your head grew and his pace quickened, you knew he was going to cum, and this time he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Your lips pressed tightly around his cock, keeping it in your mouth when he finally came down your throat. You took it completely and compliantly, gratefully swallowing all of his cum. You licked your lips and upon realizing that some had dribbled out of the corner of your mouth, your tongue darted out to finish your meal. But Steve’s strong hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you. He leaned down, pulling you up to meet him and the flat of his tongue licked away the cum before you could, continuing its stripe onto your lips, and into your open maw. You moaned into his mouth as your tongues curled around each other and he sucked yours as he pulled away. He finished with a quick peck on your pouting lips, still keeping you a centimeter away, his words brushing you as he muttered, 

“You’re such a good bunny-” He kisses you again, this time leaving you dizzy- “Swallowing without even asking-“ He kisses you a third time- “Oh, you’re everything to me.”

You weren’t sure you were just playing along with his plan anymore. All the things he was doing, all the things he was saying to you were only making you hornier and hornier. Your core felt like it was on fire, begging to be touched by him, wanting to be fucked, wanting to finally cum because of him. You didn’t care that he had set all of this up, you didn’t care that he had broken into your home, you didn’t care that he was taking advantage of you. You just wanted him to make you cum. So you begged for it.

“Mr. Raglan…” You breathed against his lips, letting him kiss you between your statements, “Please- I need you to make me cum-“ Another kiss, lingering longer, his harsh lips making yours feel pillowed when he pulled away.

“Please make me cum.” You pleaded. The grin on his face looked maniacal.

“White rabbit, you only had to ask.” He drops you back down to the bed, pushing your shoulders down, your back flat against the mattress. The air hitched in your lungs when Steve harshly grabbed your legs and pushed your knees damn-near either side of your head, bending you in half as he leaned on top of you, pinning you in the position.

“I’ve been wanting to hear you beg for me to make you cum for so long.” He sighs. “Oh bunny, you look so good under me like that.”

You hissed as he bit into the backs of thighs as one of his hands left your knees, skimming down your body until it fell off, leaving your mind to race as to what it was doing. You were quickly distracted by his sharp teeth in your flesh again.

“It’s too bad that gorgeous mouth of yours sucked me dry.” He tutted. You felt his hand return, along with a familiar feeling of silicone.

“I’ve been dreamin’ of cummin’ in you,” The dildo you were masturbating with when he arrived was in his hand, the tip playing at your entrance, making you whimper.

“Ya know, I should punish you for taking away that pleasure.” He pulled the toy away completely, your whine choked back when his other hand grabbed your throat swiftly and squeezed. Fear pumped your blood, unfortunately only making you want him more. You lifted your chin as much as you could in the position you were in, giving him more access to your neck, your eyes half-lidded and watching him, waiting for him to do what he saw fit. He chuckled, knowing that he had you wrapped around his finger, that you would do anything for him now, just as he had planned.

“But I think makin’ you wait this long is punishment enough.”

The dildo was slammed into you and the noise you let out was garbled between a cry and some noise an animal would make. In the position you were currently in, the toy reached a new spot in you that you’ve never felt before, and each pump drew a whiny moan out of you, you windpipe still being squeezed by his strong hand.

“Those noises you make- I could get hard again just hearin’ ‘em.” His hand let go of your throat, his fingers now playing at your hairline at the nape of your neck, his thumb on your bottom lip, playing with how swollen it was. He bit into your thighs again, leaving behind dark marks that made you cry out in pain that sank down into groans of pleasure the more he fucked you with your toy.

“Oh, make those noises for me, white rabbit.” He says against your skin, his hand moving the dildo faster and harder into you. You had found the more you heard it, the more you loved the pet name he had given you. You didn’t know why he called you ‘white rabbit’ or ’bunny,’ but you didn’t want to bother asking. You loved that it was yours and it was something that you could always be for him. What you loved the most about it was how he always said it so adoringly, bordering on obsessively- and you realized what this was all about.

Obsession.

Steve Raglan was obsessed with you and he wouldn’t be able to rest until he had marked you, until he had claimed you, needing you to only be for himself. No one else will be able to fuck you again. Not only because you knew that he would never let it happen, but also because you knew that you would only be thinking about him. Considering everything, that wasn’t a shock. How could you ever be with someone else after this?

His thumb on your lip dared to enter your mouth, marveling how warm and wet it was and how soft your tongue was as it lapped the calloused pad of his thumb, the ridges of your teeth biting into it. He sighed dreamily as you sucked on his thumb, a whine in your throat when you felt like your body might give out.

“Are ya gonna cum for me? So soon?” His voice was in a mocking tone yet you still answered with a whimpered, “yes,” and screwed your eyes shut to focus on the knot in your stomach growing so tight it genuinely hurt.

He thought that your head might explode from how red it was getting. From the position he forced you in, the blood collecting in your head was enough to make your face glow and grow hot to the touch. The current image he was seeing of you was something he would take with him for the rest of life. He knew he would be thinking of this encounter on his deathbed, feeling nothing but bliss at the memory of taking advantage of you. (Though, with the way you were moaning, he didn’t really think this could be considered taking advantage.)

“Look at me, bunny. I wanna see you come undone.” He demands. You’re able to roll your eyes open and lock your gaze with his. His eyes bore into your very being and it felt like it was setting your very soul on fire, finally sending you over, the knot releasing. His grip was hard on your face, making sure you kept your eyes on him as your orgasm took over your whole body. Your groan was long and drawn out with a mumbled version of his name, your eyes struggling to keep open from how hard the waves of pleasure hit you.

As you struggled to catch your breath, he pulled you towards him and kissed your forehead tenderly, then allowed you to lay back on the bed, letting your eyes close. His body slowly got off yours, allowing your legs to drop unceremoniously onto the mattress with a slight bounce of the springs. The dildo was still inside you, and Steve watched with a hungry eye as your relaxed muscles pushed it out for the second time today. Fuck, he could never get used to that.

Your breathing finally slowed, your body sore from holding positions for him despite lack of flexibility. You felt him get off the bed and upon hearing the jangling of a belt you lazily opened your eyes. He rolled his shoulders and neck as he tucked his shirt into his pants. He looked back over his shoulder at you, and he broke into a grin seeing you still a sweaty mess on the bed. He came over to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning back to capture your lips with his in a breathtaking, passionate kiss. He pulled away with a soft groan, feeling a raising anger that he couldn’t stay longer, but unfortunately he had business at a certain abandoned pizzeria to take care of, (the new security guard was getting too comfortable to his liking,) and he knew if he left his car any longer it would look more suspicious than it already does.

He looked at you and put a hand on your cheek, kissing you again, more softly this time, as if that was a sufficient enough goodbye for what you just endured. His hand taps your cheek before it slips off your face and he stands, heading for your bedroom door. You watched, dumbstruck that he was just going to leave without saying a word, without saying anything about what just happened.

“Will you come back?” Your voice is so soft you thought he wouldn’t hear it, but he does, stopping briefly to answer you before closing the door behind him.

“Oh, white rabbit,” Mr. Raglan smirks over his shoulder, “I always come back.”

[janeyseymour]

Just Sex

Summary: Melissa is hooking up with the chief at the firehouse, so you decide that you can have your own fun.

WC: ~2.1k

After the failed relationship and proposal with Gary, Melissa has been going out to bars and staying out late at night. She finds herself in bed with quite a few men and women, and while she’s not thrilled that she’s back to this lifestyle, she’s impressed that she still has what it takes. Getting older did not make it any easier to attract people.

But then one night she sees the fire chief out at the bar, one thing leads to the other, and they’re in a friends with benefits sort of situationship.

Of course, all of this comes out when you’re renewing your CPR training certificate with the Abbott clan, and Barbara has made it quite clear that she’s upset Melissa didn’t tell her of this relationship before.

You had been busy trying to pass your test, but now it’s your partner’s turn to go, and you tune back into the world around you.

“But if I were gonna label it, I would say it’s just sex,” you hear Melissa tell her work wife in a low voice.

You don’t really know what she’s talking about, but you shrug it off. That is, until Janine comes back into the room and asks for the gossip. Barbara of course goes off, claiming that her friend of over fifteen years trusts her no more than a common street stranger. It becomes apparent to you that whatever hookup situation they’re talking about has been going on for a bit of time now. You feel a nasty pit settle in your stomach at that.

That pit only grows when you go out with the crew after the CPR course to celebrate the fact that you all passed. Of course, conversation leads back to Melissa and Jacob both having sexual relations with people from the firehouse.

“Well, I think I blew that one,” Jacob groans as he finishes off his aperol spritz. “But let’s talk about you, Mel Mel.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to talk about,” the redhead waves him off. “It’s just casual sex.”

“Casual sex that’s been going on for how long?” Barbara asks with a raised brow.

Melissa purses her lips as she thinks. “Couple weeks now?”

“A month,” Jacob cuts in. “C’mon, Melissa. When are you just going to admit that you like him?”

“I do not,” she states very clearly. “I just need something to take the edge off for me, and… he does that.”

“How kinky is it?” Ava asks, a smirk on her face.

Jacob opens his mouth, and Melissa very quickly shoves her hand over his mouth. “You say a word, and you’re out on the curb faster than you were out with Zach.”

The man’s eyes widen, and he nods quickly. She pulls her hand away from his mouth, and he breathes a deep sigh in relief. 

“I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along,” the second grade teacher says as she finishes off her beer.

Barb turns to look at her work wife with a curious face. She knows of the little crush that her best friend has on you. Melissa just nods at the kindergarten teacher’s silent question.

But you don’t take it that way, because you have no idea that Melissa has had her eye on you since before she broke it off with Gary. You see it that you have no chance with your favorite coworker at all.

Feeling as though you could burst into tears at any given moment, you quietly excuse yourself from the rest of the outing and head for your apartment.

“What was that?” Melissa furrows a brow and purses her lips as she gazes in the direction that you left.

“I’m sure it was just a long day for her is all,” Janine tries to come up with some sort of logistical reason as to why you would leave early. “I did have a meeting with her before school even started today, so she’s been up for quite some time.”

Everybody seems to accept that reasoning, and they continue on with their night.

The next day, you march yourself into Ava’s office bright and early.

“Girl, what are you doin? I’m tryna get this knot out of my back,” your principal groans as she shuts off her personal back massager.

“I need your help,” you tell her, not even bothering to acknowledge that she isn’t doing her job at all.

“With?” She leans forward just slightly in her chair.

You smile at her. “I know you know a bunch of people… set me up with someone?”

“Oh, girl,” she laughs. “What’s gotten into you? Every other time I’ve asked if you want someone, you decline!”

“Just… thinking I should get myself out there,” you shrug. “You know? If Melissa can do it, so can I.”

Ava’s jaw drops. “So this is about Melissa.”

“What?”

“I knew you had the hots for her!” the principal grins. 

“What? Not! I- I just figured, if everyone else can have at it, so can I?”

“Oh, girl,” she laughs in your face. “This ain’t you at all, but I am in full support of it. Give me til the end of the day, and I’ll have someone for you.”

You end up going out with a woman that night that Ava set you with, and you do end up actually liking her… and she’s pretty damn good in bed.

The next morning, you’re practically glowing while you drink your morning coffee in the break room. Julie, the woman that you ended up in bed with last night, is texting you about maybe meeting up again later this week.

And if you weren’t still in love with the redhead that comes in a few seconds later, you would say yes. Instead, you send her a text that says, Maybe. Kinda busy the next couple weeks.

She texts you back a picture… a rather scandalous picture. And you blush when you see it.

“What’s got you all giddy today?” the redhead asks as she leans over. She sees the picture before you can close out of it, and her eyebrows creep up her head.

“Who’s that?”

You shrug. “Just someone Ava set me up with.”

“Ava?” Melissa asks in disbelief. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Not long,” you tell her. “It’s just sex, really.”

The redhead folds her arms over her chest. “I didn’t think you were like that.”

“I’m not, but I figured I might as well give it a shot,” you say. “Now, I have to head to my room to finish up some of my grading, but I’ll see you later.”

You don’t have any intention to see her later. And you don’t. You pull back from her and her group- although most of them still find their ways to you. It’s mostly just the redheaded second grade teacher that you avoid. And it happens that way for a few more days.

You’re in the break room heating up your lunch when Ava comes in. “Girl! Are you gonna text Julie back or not?”

Melissa makes her way in, and you sigh. “It’s just sex. I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along,” you unintentionally repeat what the second grade teacher had said out at the bar. The microwave indicates that your food is finished, and you pull it out before heading back down to your classroom for lunch.

You miss the scowl on Melissa’s face, but Ava sure as hell doesn’t.

“Girl, you jealous or something?” the principal leans in with a smirk.

“What would I be jealous of?”

“That someone else is hitting that hot piece of ass,” Ava says like it’s obvious. The second grade teacher rolls her eyes, but Ava continues. “I see the way you look at her. Practically undressing her with your eyes every time she walks into the room.”

Melissa crosses her arms again. “I can’t believe you set her up with someone if you knew I like her.”

“I was hoping it would give you a swift kick in the ass that she was gonna start hoeing it up,” Ava shrugs. “Now admit that you’re jealous before everyone else comes in here.”

“Okay, I’m jealous,” the redhead relents. “But it don’t matter anyway. She isn’t lookin’ for anyone- she just said that.”

“She said, and I quote, ‘I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along. And girl, you’re that person for her!”

Everyone else starts filing in, and Ava makes it so that she looks impossibly bored, although she is actually quite the opposite. “Okay, I’m leaving this snooze fest.” She heads out, but not before giving Melissa a subtle wink and tap on the wrist. “Get it, girl.”

That day, Melissa sits thoughtfully during her lunch period about what Ava said… maybe she’s right? But she can’t be sure, so after dismissal duty, the fiery second grade teacher heads down to the front office and bursts into the principal’s office.

“Schemmenti,” Ava grins. “You do it yet?”

“I ain’t doin’ nothin’ until I’m positive Y/N has a thing for me too,” Melissa sits down across from the woman. “So tell me what you know.”

Ava spends a long time telling the redhead about the various times she’s caught you checking Melissa and only Melissa out, how you always seem to linger around her during events, how the two of you are almost always partners for things now and how you being around always makes her soft and you absolutely bask in her warmth. She even confesses that you went down to her office to ask her to set you up because of Melissa.

“You convinced yet?” the principal asks after ten minutes.

Melissa bites her lip. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I’d make a move quick though. She said something about potentially seeing Julie today.”

“Isn’t that going to piss off your friend that Y/N might leave her for me?”

“She ain’t my friend,” Ava says as she files her nails. “I made a dating profile for Y/N and picked the first mildly attractive woman I saw.”

“You’re unbelievable sometimes,” the redhead pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe, but ain’t you gonna go get your girl?”

Melissa stands from her chair and thanks the principal before rushing out and down your hallway. She hopes to catch you before you head out for the night. And of course, because you’re a dedicated teacher, you’re still there prepping for tomorrow. She knocks on your doorframe and leans against it.

“Just a sec!” you reply cheerily, not turning around yet. You’re hands deep in soil for the gardening project that your students will be participating in tomorrow.

“I don’t got a second,” Melissa says. You whip around at her voice.

“Hey,” you sigh, all joy in your voice gone.

“Don’t go out with Julie tonight,” the redhead tells you.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I want you to go out with me instead,” she tells you seriously.

“You’re dating the fire chief,” you deadpan.

“I ain’t dating nobody because the only person I want to date is you,” the redhead admits.

That gets you to drop the dirt that is currently in your hands. “What?”

“I told everyone I was just having casual sex and wasn’t looking for a relationship unless the right person came around because… because the only person I would want to be in a relationship is you, and I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“Melissa, are you an idiot?” You ask her. “I’ve shamelessly flirted with you since you broke it off with Gary and practically thrown myself at you in hopes that you would pick me instead of some random hookup.”

She crosses the room, and she’s kissing you before you even know what’s happening. You instinctively kiss her back, and… wow. When you pull away, you quickly wipe the dirt off of your hands before pulling her in close again.

“Don’t go out with Julie tonight,” she pleads again.

“Don’t go out with the fire chief anymore,” you mumble against her lips.

She nods and mutters, “I already called it off. You cancel on Julie, and meet me at my place?”

You end up at Melissa’s house within the hour, and she wines and dines you. And then you end up in her bed seeing stars. Your legs tremble for what feels like forever before she makes her way back up to you.

“And just so you know,” she husks into your ear. “There ain’t nothin’ casual about this. This ain’t just sex.”

Tags: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22

[thesirencult]

PAC READING : WHO HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?

1---2

3---4

PILE 1

The Tower, The Fool

This is someone you would never expect to have feelings for you. You view them as distant, private an cold towards you and others. There is something magnetic to them and, at times, they let their cold façade go. Then, you get to experience a different side of them. They may have played with children in front of you or taken care of an elderly person, assisting them to cross the street. This person loves animals and has a soft spot for them. This reminds me of a strong, tall man who build a sanctuary for chihuahuas after his wife left him. Now he takes care of them and encourages other men to break the stereotype and adopt a smaller dog.

So, this person could also be tall and either lanky or lean-muscular. Others see them as intimidating and may try to avoid them in social situations (like coworkers not inviting them out for a drink after work).

I don't think they'll express themselves. They feel very ashamed of their feelings for you and believe that you see them as "not good enough". This has nothing to do with the way you treat them and has everything to do about their own perception of themselves.

They are very innocent at heart and get hurt when people exclude them. This tells me that you must have treated them like your "chihuahua". You are the one who encourages them and offers help or a few kind words. They love your kind and sweet nature but it's hard for them to show their true emotions. You will notice them get shy and anxious around you, like a little kid. Give them a chance by letting them get closer to you.

PILE 2

Judgement, The Magician, 5 Of Wands

This person is very fair and just. They will love every single inch of you and they won't shy away from telling you that. You see yourself as "not being good enough" and the person who has a crush on you will pick up on how you feel immediately. They will try to get you to see your beauty and will get sad when you talk bad about yourself. They just don't understand how someone as perfect and beautiful as you doesn't realise their own strength and beauty.

This person is a master manifestor. They just know how to alchemize energy and change their physical reality. They will see that you have this ability too and they will admire how you are trying to forge your own path. They have probably manifested you into their lives and they'll idolize you a lot.

If there is an age gap (5+), this person will try to hold back and act as a mentor towards you but, they are very competitive with others and possessive. Their feelings will shine through when they sense someone else trying to get with you. You'll notice their absurd behaviour, call them out and they will just kiss you.

"I'll show you why I'm acting this way." And then smooch 💋.

PILE 3

Queen Of Cups, 7 Of Pentacles, 5 Of Pentacles

Okey-dokey! My sweet Pile 3, if you are not into girls or feminines, I would advise you to choose another pile. Otherwise, if you choose to stay, this energy could resonate with your personal journey towards love and abundance.

I'm seeing a very sweet soul waiting for you. This energy is very light and free-flowing. You may not have met this person yet, because of divine timing. I'm getting that when you meet them it will be "love at first sight". You'll catch them doing something random, like picking up a dumbbell at the gym or petting a dog, or even voting (?).

This "exchange" from afar will drive you crazy cause you will know nothing about this person and you'll think you will never see them again. I see that fate has other plans for you.

This feminine is your future spouse and she is very into personal development at the moment. They will be preoccupied with finances and they are trying to clear up "abundance blocks".

At first, they will seem reserved and preoccupied with other things. You'll exchange a few looks and sparks will be flying, so this is a case of a reciprocated crush.

They are quite happy with being by themselves and working on their coins and foundations for their future. I bet you'll hear them talk about that and you'll think "Baby don't worry, I'm your future 💋."

Slowly you'll start talking and I hope you make the next step otherwise they'll never ever let you in.

But, after you get closer to them, you'll realize that they are a very deep and wise person and not just sunny all the time. Actually you'll think of them as darker and lunar. You will love their passion and mysterious disposition. Be their fearless protector and their rock to climb up to and watch the sunrise.

PILE 4

The Hierophant, 9 Of Cups, Queen Of Pentacles

Right now you are going through a "level up" phase. I don't even know why you are waisting your time here. Lol. You are quite independent, fierce and unstoppable. You are also trying to manifest someone like you.

The person who will soon come towards and confess their crush on you is not someone overly "hard". They are quite dreamy and soft. They like ice-cream and long walks. They will take you on romantic dates and worry that you don't like the scenery because you are not talking that much.

This person sees you as a boos b*tch. They admire you and have put you in a pedestal. I'm hearing "Let me service you Queen.". They like "ice-cream" ! Oh my! This person really wants you and they would jump through hoops to get to you.

They'll pass all your tests with flying colours and you will keep wondering how they are such a good match for you. Let them feel like you are in control and they'll submit to you.

[dalliancekay]

Crowley is not stupid, Aziraphale is not an idiot and other assorted thoughts

Or how nothing is black and white and my bullying home and religious trauma is a metaphor not a direct translation to what our immortals experience. And vice versa. -

I don't know what it's like to hang out on Earth since the beginning but I'm sure it is richer than we can imagine we could imagine.

Our two favourite, currently men shaped beings, are captured for our storytelling enjoyment when their time on the Green Planet is about to be cut off.

One has been thrown out from their family home ages ago, we are not sure for what misdemeanour exactly, and is now working for a dumpy place where they don't mind inflicting pain if you misbehave nor do they care whether a trial is fair. So, a mafia, basically. And our hero is tasked with collecting new additions to the unhappy family on top of that. He doesn't much care for it and seems to do the bare minimum only.

The other has been sent to the young planet to guard the indigenous humans and told something vague about an Ineffable Plan that will all work out when there's a War in a few thousand years, which 'our, the Good, side' will win and everyone will be happy. Just tell the humans to behave and if they don't kick up a fuss, we will welcome them Here.

And Here is a vast, empty place, well lit, with busy, lonely bees working and filing, and checking, making sure rules are in place and are followed as written and everything is ticking over; the higher ranks' punishments rare but swift. Everyone has learnt a lesson when half of them were unceremoniously fired when someone said some nasty things about the CEO. So things might not be perfect but at least if you stick to your tasks you will be left alone.

So, we meet demon Crowley, whose family threw him out as mentioned above and his job sucks and he hates it but it's not hard and his placement is rather a nice place so he does his best to not to lose the position. Sometimes he wonders what is the point of it all and that's when he runs into his adorable archenemy, the angel Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was sent to Earth and given a job, one that doesn't seem to quite work out (or does it?) as he follows his heart instead of the rules almost immediately but surprisingly is not punished for it by the CEO. So he spends his time helping the natives, following orders he receives as best as he can and when he runs into his archenemy the demon, he feels a certain strange tingle and flutter in his heart at the sight of the rulebreaker.

They have done a fair job of it for 6 millennia. They avoid getting fired and even manage to take on each other's tasks to lighten up the load and the (pointlessly) random business trips (does anyone Up or Down there ever heard of geography?)

When we meet our heroes in present day-ish, they've been told the End of the World sequence has been triggered and life as they know it is about to end. 

How do they feel about this? Well. Our demon is appalled. He knew this was coming. But not really. It's just something to sort of work towards right? After all, the Earth has been developing rather nicely. The alcohol got better, the food for his Angel, the music got interesting, the clothes tighter... He's having a good time. Yes, he pushes his luck sometimes. Sleeps too long, gives in and saves someone instead of ruining them. He gets into all kinds of tangles to spend time with his crush. He is rash but he's not stupid. He knows what's at stake. But he's angry. And sometimes that's hard to contain. He does go too fast. But Aziraphale is always there to catch him. And if he can't, he waits and worries and is there when Crowley returns.

So about the angel? He knows he should dislike the demon. He knows he should follow his directives. He knows he should not meet or talk to Crowley. And what does he do? Gets himself arrested in his fanciest silks so they can have crepes when the world and humanity is bringing them down with their relentless hate towards each other. He puts on a magical performance when the demon fails to deliver some contraband liquor in the midst of the Blitz bombing.

And, now. Here's the funny bit. Angel has gotten himself a part time job in the past few centuries. He's had a few before, but not quite like this. He has a place he loves now. A safe, cluttered place where a demon is welcome. It's not much like his original home. You could say... it's rather quite the opposite of it. In any case, he never really got on with his managers but tbf he likes his job. It makes the humans happy and he loves the humans and loves making them happy.

He also does not want the world to end. But his fam has always told him that once this bit is over, an even better one will come along. What that bit is was never quite explained but then, asking questions was always frowned upon and rather vehemently so. He's noticed this from the get go... unlike a red headed angel he once knew...

What is my point?

That neither Crowley or Aziraphale are wrong. Or right. Doing the correct thing. Or not. Me. You. We come from broken families, we have been friends and lovers with bad people, we have escaped religions, cults, home countries. Lies. Rules. Hate. We have fought for our love to be recognised as love.

Crowley and Aziraphale live in a world where Heaven and Hell is real. Where Satan rules over a smelly place with mould on the walls and God is engrossed in her sci fi novels and seems to have forgotten about Her Earth project.

You can't call Aziraphale stupid for believing in God. She exists. Whether She has a plan is open to debate, sure. She seems to have claimed so at some point, but then, we all change don't we. Maybe She changed Her mind and forgot to tell the upper management. Maybe She thought She didn't need to spell out all the details to them so they kill Job's kids. Maybe She was vague on purpose much in the style of King Henry II and Thomas Beckett.. Anyway. Back to Aziraphale, our angel on Earth. He is kind, has hope, wants to believe after thousands, millions of years. And this is not stupid. Aziraphale does and is brave, courageous things. And he's slowly learning to trust himself more too. To know the difference. It started with the sword and his overthinking on the giving away of it. He made a decision to protect Job's children. Risked Falling for it. Trusted the demon over his bosses. Not because Heaven is WRONG. Yes, they are. But the thing is they don't care. And Aziraphale does. He cares about humanity. And he cares about Crowley.

Nobody noticed (or did they) how our two field agents fell in love (neither did they tbf) and how fiercely they guard the little secret they share. The smiles and the glances, the small flowers of hope that things can change one day.

And they did change. Plan A, War and Destruction, did not work out. The youngster they sent from Below decided he likes the new place and refused to ruin it. They both learned things. They are still learning. The demon how to trust again. The angel how to question things.

So what's next? The place Above is going to send their trusted agent. He followed the rules last time seamlessly. It did not quite work out but no problem, they'll send Him out again. With a rather more final arrangement.

In the meantime, the disgraced and rather troubling Earth agents have been lying low. Unsure of their places and overall safety, they went on with their lives as best as they could until the angel happened to help his former boss run away with his paramour from the other side and is visited by the Big Boss.

Big Boss wastes no time and suggests to our angel he should come back Upstairs and take the place of his disgraced superior. To use his skills. To be better looked after I suppose. New opportunities. To be close to the big upcoming decisions or - under a close watchful eye.

Aziraphale, not surprisingly, refuses. He does not want to put any of his 'skills' to any good causes but his own. But then. THEN. He is not so subtly made aware that his dangerous liaisons with the other side have been noted and his help in the latest Complication might not go unpunished if he's not careful.

And this job offer suddenly seems FAR more sinister than it did 15 minutes ago. Especially when it is handed over with a coffee (that he does not much like) from a place called Give Me Coffee Or Give me Death.

Our angel goes home to cautiously tell his demon about the trouble they are in and his world comes crashing down around him.

This post turned out to be completely different to what I originally wanted to write. Is there a point? You decide.

Aziraphale's decision makes complete sense, he loves the Earth, his home and Crowley over and above everything else. And he WILL fight for their safety. AND the humans in the process if he can.

This is my very first Tumblr post. Way to go me etc. Please be kind.

[thinkingotherwise]

hii!

There are very few blogs that write about wind breaker, and I think your writing is very good.I would like to request Sakura, Sugishita and Umemiya (separately), pining for a fem reader and how they would cope with their crush without her knowing.

The reader is foreign (Colombia), she speaks several languages ​​such as Japanese, English and French.She is talented in the arts (she studies at an arts academy), plays the piano, drawing, gymnastics and singing. She comes from a very rich family, her father is a metal singer and her mother is a martial arts teacher. I am a fan of curvy readers with a power character and stronger, she is kind but you don't really notice it since she is a sarcastic girl and a little cruel when she jokes without realizing it. She has a very well-groomed sense of fashion and changes his style very quickly but she loves boots of any kind. She is someone serious when she does not get into confidence especially with men (since she mostly does not have male friends), but when she does get into confidence she talks too much and tells black jokes, her laugh becomes loud and loud, she forgets manners and becomes becomes playful like touching or pinching your friends. She loves metal music but listens to all kinds of music. Before, she self-harmed because she didn't feel enough due to the pressure of always having been talented, that's why she has a long scar on her right leg and a few on her arms. She managed to overcome it with therapy and she doesn't care what her scars look like. She can be considered quite "crazy" because of her tastes, such as her somewhat macabre paintings or her jokes.

This was very long, sorry, but I got too excited.

Excited is good ;)

Sorry for the wait, I still have some more requests from April to finish.

Haruka Sakura, Kyotaro Sugishita, Hajime Umemiya x fem! Artistic! Sarcastic! reader

TW: selfharm/scar (mentioned)

Haruka Sakura

Even before Haruka realized he had a crush on you, he was in awe of your artistic skills, as well as linguistics. He was excited to get to know you were from out of Japan and he'd still randomly ask you different things about your country and the culture, and how much it was distinct from what you had in Japan. He'd ask you to say stuff in different languages, and in return, you'd make him pronounce them. He was amazed at your accents and words, while you were laughing at the way he pronounced them.

When it came to your questionable nature of joking and talking with others, at first, he thought that your jabs and cruel jokes were attacks on him. In that case, you'd return them even trying to pick up a fight with you. Even after all the time you spent together, he'd keep it up but he'd rather tackle you than punch you. He was aware it was how you normally behaved but he still wanted to let you know some might not be as understanding as he got used to.

Since the first time he got to know you, he was curious about your scar but waited for you to tell him first knowing some things are better kept as secrets for the time being. After he realized he liked you and then you did tell him about it, when you became a little closer, he'd surprise you by giving the bestest, longest, and coziest hug you could receive from him.

Being his crush would mean being taken care of in this strange aggressive, yet timid way.

Kyotaro Sugishita

At the beginning of, your rather questionable friendship, the both of you were quiet, him being that way normally and you trying to figure him out. With time passing you got used to him, thinking he was doing the same, but you finally realized it was his personality, so you took it upon yourself to be the more confident and talkative person.

Whenever you made him laugh or smile you'd celebrate it like it was the greatest success ever. You noticed he'd laugh rather easily if you were to joke at Sakura, responding to him sarcastically and making the boy confused.

Anytime you showed him your paintings he was surprised by your talent and imagination. He would ask you to describe the painting, what you drew, and how. It would be baffling to some that he'd become so interested but you appreciated it and went on and on about your art.

He'd also find appeal in your music, even if it was mostly metal he liked it, and even more, he enjoyed spending time with you while you showed the different songs to him.

When he realizes he has a crush he gets very invested in your hobbies, he could listen to you play or watch you draw for hours. Spending every minute he can with you.

Hajime Umemiya

Hajime got along with you the best since the beginning. He didn't mind whenever you started laughing and being touchy or pinching. When he realized he had some deeper feelings for you, than only friendship he would easily respond to your touchiness with his. He'd not leave you alone, when you started the little game, and be all over you trying to tickle you. You'd end up in a rather heated but also playful war.

You spent so much time together, he'd quickly understood that your cruel jokes are part of your character, and when he knew you didn't mean something, he'd playfully pinch you letting you know you're going too far. The both of you would be soo loud together while laughing and enjoying your company, you'd make Hiiragi's head hurt, and all the Bofurin to hear you.

Your styling skills made such an impact on Hajime. He loved it whenever you changed styles, he could watch you in so many different clothes and still be amazed by how good you looked. He himself didn't have any style, as most of his friends told him, so he sometimes asked you to lend him a hand and make him look cool as the leader of Bofurin.

As soon as he develops a crush on you he's more aware of the switch in you, emotional, as well as, physical. He'd always try to talk about them with you because he knows how hard it can be, and how much having someone to share it with can help.

Taglist: @misticbullet

[quills-of-freedom]

Short story ~

First time with Reiner Braun 🌺

Female-bodied reader X Reiner Braun

Reiner had been acting strange since the two of you shared an interrupted kiss a week ago - and now you're partnered together on wilderness training. What could possibly go wrong?

Includes: Confession of love. 18+ only ~ fluff ~ smut

Reiner had been acting weird all day, but you couldn’t really blame him. The last time you were alone together, you'd ended up locking mouths in a steamy kiss. You hadn’t spoken about it since – You hadn’t really had the chance. Between training and having your classmates around, it was a perfect cover to avoid a potentially awkward conversation.

When Shadis announced that for this exam, you would be teamed up together, you both internally groaned.

You had another two years of training, and you were bound to wind up alone together again at some point. You'd both made sure that during the entire hike, you didn’t let one silence befall the conversation, which would force you to talk about the inevitable subject of the heated kiss.

It was quite comical, actually.

Constant talking either about your task, your friends, or at one point even pondered and speculated if a person got a sunburn in front of a cannibal; would the cannibal start watering at the mouth?

Anything to not talk about the kiss.

It’d been a whole week since the incident and it wasn’t like you didn’t want to address it. The both of you just didn’t want to know the other's thoughts on the matter. You both had serious reservations about it; you were totally focused on training and not fooling around, unlike some others in their class.

And yet…

The kiss only fanned the flames of the huge crush Reiner has had on you since day one. The crush that, over the last twenty months, had developed into something a lot deeper. He’d kill for you. He thought about that only earlier when you had made a joke about something and it really tickled him to the core; resulting in a loud belly laugh. So, when the sun was starting to set and you had found a good place to camp for the night… that was when things would inevitably go south.

“Hey Ba- uh, y/n?” Reiner called out in a chilled horror. Not only from the slip of the tongue but also from what he had discovered in their shared backpack.

You were only a few feet away, starting a campfire when a small laugh left your sweet lips. “Did you almost call me Bertolt?”

No. I almost called you “babe”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. But we have a problem.” “What is it?” You frown, heading over.

He pulled a large, folded bit of material out of the pack. “…We only have one tent.” You looked at him like he spoke another language. “So? It’s not the first time we’ve had to share a tent with a partner during training. I had to share one with Jean last year.”

I bet Jean would have loved that…

It was a running joke amongst the men about when they had to share sleeping quarters with the women, and how they’d lie on the very edge, all limbs tucked in and never once touching them for fear of a testosterone-induced erection.

“Yeah, but I’m a big guy.” He lied, not once being concerned about that at all. “Get over yourself.” You chuckle, nudging him playfully as you returned to what you were doing.

Reiner solemnly obeyed and began to set up the tent, his frown pulling at his face the entire time. He will not get any sleep – being so close to… you. Alone… Miles away from anyone. After you'd kissed. He swallowed hard as he fumbled with the poles, wanting to be out of this situation. Reiner Braun was desperately in love with you and he was supposed to be keeping away. If you kiss again, he’s a total goner. There would be no way he could reject you if you reciprocated his feelings, even in the slightest. Luckily, the kiss had been interrupted so he didn’t know how you truly felt. He thought that if he never knew, it’s a problem he would never have to face. His fingers clumsily began to fix things together; you already had the fire going and preparing dinner. His eyes almost began to water at the thought that he was about to get your famous, amazing cooking. Sasha had been furious he was paired with you. His chest tightened and his head became fuzzy. He wished he didn’t have to be in such a complicated situation; he would just ask you to marry him already.

“You need help?” your voice called over after he dropped the pole fixtures for the third time. “Huh? Uh, no I got it.” He wavered a hand dismissively without turning around.

What the hell am I going to do? He panics in silence.

Eventually, the sun had set and the tent was erected, the two of you sitting by the fire after you'd eaten. The warm orange glow of the flames encased the two of you cosily, as Reiner sat back and patted his stomach in awe.

“Amazing. As always.” He smiled. “Thank you.” “I’m glad you liked it.” You beamed beautifully.

Surrounded by the trees under the stars and being embraced by the warm glow of the flames; You now began to feel weird about the intimate moment you'd had. It wasn’t very often you had time alone and your feelings for him remained the same since. The pair of you sat back, gazing up at the stars in comfortable silence.

“It feels like we haven’t stargazed in forever,” You commented quietly. “I bet Marco is looking at them now too.”

“Yeah, he will be.” Reiner marvelled.

Another silence.

He noticed you had been pretty quiet since you began relaxing by the fire. You were wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. He’d had plenty of time now. Maybe he regrets it? You bite your lip at the thought, eyes lowering to the flames sadly. God, he’d grown on you a hell of a lot and you resented that fact. It hurt to think he didn’t feel the same. Reiner noticed this.

Shit, she looks sad. Is it because he hadn’t mentioned the kiss?

Should he ask? There’s no way he would ever stand for you feeling down, let alone because of him.

What the hell should I do?!

His brain hurt. More so, his heart. You flinch a little in surprise when he slowly crept his hand across the ground and intentionally skimmed his skin across your fingers. He didn’t look at you though. It was his way of sending an impossible telepathic message of; Don’t be sad. I can’t say it but God, I love you. You, however, assumed it was an accident.

Ah hell. I’m going to have to mention it. I can’t see her feeling down.

He took a deep breath.

“You alright? You look a little down.” His usual façade of serious, concerned solider coming out.

“Oh? I’m fine.” You lied.

He knew you were lying. He knew you too well.

“It looks like it’s going to rain though.” You noticed the thick clouds that were rolling in, beginning to block the view of the stars. “We should get some sleep.” “R-right.” Reiner nodded, deflated. He didn’t know what he expected. His heart, body and soul ached for your lips against his again, but his mind screamed to stop being an idiot. As you go inside to get ready for bed, he stood and began to snuff out the flames of the fire, along with any hope he’d had of being with the woman he was so desperately in love with.

Sure enough, as you lay facing away from one another, the sounds of soft pattering began to tap the tent above your heads. You lay back-to-back with as big of a gap between you as possible; what the small tent would allow anyway. Reiner’s arms were tucked up around his chest and his eyes were wide. You had your limbs tucked away too but that was for a different reason – as always when you camped out, you were freezing. It didn’t matter the season. As soon as that sun sank below the horizon, your body temperature would drop. Reiner on the other hand was like a big insulated heater, sleeping in just his underwear under his sleeping bag. His heart thudded harshly against his large chest.

She’s just there! Kiss her! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel…

He’d been close to telling you a few times over the course of the last month or so. He couldn’t help it. Even before you shared that kiss, his feelings would bubble up to the surface and almost spew out of his mouth. He’d always managed to stop himself though, although it was getting increasingly more difficult each time. You were just so… perfect. And he had to say something before Eren sinks his claws into you. It was evident how he felt about you, too. Heck, half the class had some sort of crush on you. Not only were you extremely attractive and half of his classmates wanted you, but you were strong. Smart. Funny. Caring… His eyes closed in a frown as he listed the endless attributes he loved about you in his head. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.

Bertolt. Annie. Marcel. I’m sorry. I tried… I really did.

He glances back and that’s when he noticed you curled up in a ball, shivering. His eyebrows furrowed. “…You cold?” “Y-yeah.” He instantly turned onto his side to face you, his sleeping bag rustling against the fabric of the tent.

“You should have said something. ‘C mere.”

With a sigh, he sat up and began unzipping your sleeping bag. “What are you doing?” your teeth chatted. “Helping you warm up. I doubt you wanna get sick and miss training.” You averted your eyes away from him when he unzipped his bag and fastened them together into a double. You knew he slept in his shorts. Your breath catches in your throat as he wraps his big, strong arms around you and pulling you back against his warm chest; heat rolling off him and encasing you like a huge bear was holding you. His scent rolled off him and embraces your sense of smell, relaxing you immediately. He kept his pelvis away from you, his manhood already stirring awake and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

“T-thank you.” She whispered, still trembling. “Don’t mention it.” He sighed, silently kicking himself.

I definitely won’t be getting any sleep now.

Your heart almost stops when his head rested and lay between your neck and shoulder, his hot breath blanketing your skin. Rushes of unexpected heat ran down your body to in-between your legs and seemed to just pool there. His brows furrowed behind you; inhaling the intoxicating scent of you silently. Although he was trying his hardest not to brush his hips against you, he still felt so comfortable having you in his arms like this, like you were supposed to be in them. He was meant to protect you. To care for you. To love you. His mind flutters back to how he’d almost told you he loved you before. He’d hinted so hard but you just looked at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he was trying to tell you. When he was around you, it was like all of his troubles just melted away. Colours seemed brighter, his worries were brushed aside and life was just… amazing. You made him laugh, he could tell you anything (almost) and you always knew what to say to make him feel better after a particularly rough day.

But to him, the best part of it all was how excited you got him for the future. One that was bleak and full of sorrow was spun upside down and into a promising one, brimming with all possibilities.

“I have something I need to tell you.” He said softly, not able to stop himself this time. Maybe it was being this close to you that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it made it easier that you were facing away from him.

“Hm?” you hummed softly; your eyes closed and enjoying the warm embrace.

“…I love you.” That was it. It was out. There was no way to suck those words back into his lungs.

The tense, pregnant silence within the tent was only filled by the light tapping of the rain against the material that covered you both. He felt you tense in surprise, eyes flying open. You swivelled around to face him, eyes searching his narrow golden orbs for any sign of deception. But there wasn’t any. A crimson flush washed over his cheeks.

“I… I mean, you know –” he began before you silence him by pressing your lips against his. Both of your eyebrows pulled back as if pleading above closed eyes, his hand cupping your face, thrilled to be kissing you once more.

You pull away, your own pink hue colouring your face. “You… Love me?” you ask, voice soft and sweet.

He pressed his head against hers, closing his eyes and nodding. “ y/n, I’m crazy about you.” He whispered in honesty. “I always have been.” “…How crazy?” you teased, trying to tear away any awkwardness or negative feelings in his confession. He smirked. You know just how to make him comfortable. He grinned slyly, looking in your eyes. “Oh, absolutely insane. I should be getting carted away to the asylum, with Sasha and her potatoes behind me.” You laugh beautifully, heart swelling with joy. Even that dumb little exchange, confirmed to you that you definitely felt the same.

“So, you don’t regret that kiss…?”

“Of course not.” He replied, eyes returning to a desperate pleading. “I was just having a hard time accepting that I’ve come to cadets to be a soldier and…. Ended up meeting the woman I wanna marry.”

Every word that left his lips felt like a warm pleasant jab to your heart. “You… Wanna marry me?” you whisper, totally blown away by the intensity of this confession. “I do.” He admitted shyly. “You don’t deserve anything less. It’s just how I feel… Sorry” “You know…” you whisper shyly. “It’s more efficient to share body heat when you’re both naked.” His eyes enlarged and his breath caught in his throat, causing him to cough. You let out a cute giggle. “That’s if… You’d want to.” You added adorably. “Are you sure?” he whispered, praying you would say yes. You nod in reply. “I want you, Reiner.” You breathe. “I love you too. I want… you to make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Reiner was bombarded with emotion. Elation. Excitement. Arousal. Not to mention he was beginning to wonder if this were a dream. If he were going to cruelly wake up next to Bertolt and his weird sleeping positions. There’d been countless times he’s imagined you uttering those words in his head; sometimes while stroking his own cock. He’d lost count of how many times he’d furiously tugged himself while you occupied his mind. But as his feelings for you deepened, they became less and less so; guilt always creeping into his conscience. He just respects you too much.

He propped himself up on his elbow, running his now trembling fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He breathes. “You won’t.” You shake your head. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I under –” He put his arms under the sleeping bag with great speed and shuffled a little, before pulling his shorts out and throwing them to the side. You let out a laugh when he returned to his original position with haste. He returned your laugh.

“Okay…” You muttered shyly. “Look over there for a moment”

He turned around obediently as you begin to nervously undress under the now warm sleeping bag. All he could hear under the movement of you undressing yourself was his heart pounding in his head.

There’s no way this is real and happening.

His cock was already hard at the thought of you undressing inches away from him. His previous reservations about being teamed up with you quickly washed away as you threw your clothes to the side, before nestling back down and hiding under the cover.

“Alright… You can come back.” You inform him. At the speed of a firing bullet, he turned back around; painfully keeping his eyes glued to yours. His arm flinched, about to pull you back into his embrace but he hesitated. “Are… you sure?” He asked again, not able to believe the situation. “Yes.” you giggled, nervously. His arms snaked around you, his narrow orbs keeping their gaze on your eyes as he pulls your now naked form against his.

His eyes enlarged and jaw slackened when he feels your satin soft skin against his, bare breasts pressing against his hard chest and your lower stomach and groin against his solid erection. A gasp parts your lips as you feel, not only how hard he is, but how big.

“R-Reiner…” you couldn’t help but stammer, your face heating up as well as your insides. A pink hue raises over his cheeks, not having really thought through the situation.

He was nervous. He was excited. He was close to hyperventilating.

Your lips softly press against Reiner’s once more, fingers grazing across his scalp, your breathing heavy and needing. His arm snakes around your stomach, his brow pulled down and creased while his nose pushes out a blow of air, his heart hammering and his cock leaking with pre-cum. You could feel it weeping against your flesh as it throbbed and danced against your lower stomach.

You pull back for a moment; “Reiner. Only take me if you’re going to cherish me. This won’t be a one-time thing for me…”

He catches your gaze, lips parted and eyes still hungry. “Of course. I meant what I said.” You smile - elated at his words as you return your kiss, hands roaming his ridged, solid muscles. His mouth moves down to your neck, with slow and tender kisses - each one sending jolts of searing hot electricity through your entirety.

Reiner’s breath is deep; quivering and panting as he tries to hold back his eagerness and excitement.

“I’ve wanted you for so long…” He groans, his large palm pushing your arm above your head as he hovers over you a little, his fingers interlocking with your own, still kissing you deeply.

The pink hue across his face was deepening to more of a crimson, his eyes heavy-lidded and jaw slack the entire time. The way he kisses you is with such compassion, such tenderness. He grazes his large nose against yours, hands caressing your hair as he keeps himself steady over you, before gingerly rolling on top of you completely, keeping himself suspended with his forearms. He made sure every single graze, every grope was as gentle as possible - afraid of his lumbering huge form would somehow break you as you explore one another’s bodies, tongues entwining in a slow dance within your mouths. Deep, short groans vibrated his throat and chest from time to time, and not once did that furrowed look of desperation leave his face.

The only sounds that could be heard were the kisses, whines and groans as well as your laboured breath and the pattering of rain against the tent. He suddenly stops the kiss, placing his head against yours and rubbing his large thumb across your cheek, back and forth.

“I’m happy to just do this.” He breathes, wanting to prove to you that he really was just so happy you felt the same. “We don’t have to do anything else.” “I want to…” You reply, the snake coiled within wrapped far too tightly to be ignored now. “I want you to make me yours. Really, make me yours…"

He nods - returning his kiss, his top lip folding as his lusted haze results in him missing his mark slightly. God, it was hard for him not to touch you between her legs. But he’s a gentleman. He didn’t want to unless he knew one hundred per cent that you were sure.

Taking his fingertips, he nervously and slowly grazes them down your stomach to your pubic bone, pausing before taking a leap of courage - his calloused pads grazing down your clitoris and to your soaked lips. You both gasp at the sensation. The feeling of his warm, large fingers against your most intimate area was indescribable. And for him, your thick slick was heavenly.

“Is this all for me…?” He whispers in awe and disbelief, his shoulder flexing with his movements as he continues to slowly stroke you. You nod, biting your lip. He swallows hard, eyes closing for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s my first time. I won’t last long.” “I don’t care.” You groan, pulling him by his head for another deep kiss.

As much as he wanted to enter you, he refused to allow himself yet. Instead, his lips trail down your body, your eyes locked onto his broad back, flexing with every tiny movement as his head moved, his lips connecting with every inch of skin it could find - his hands gently rubbing and massaging - memorising every single gasp from your mouth. Every hitch of breath. He would remember where he’d been when you'd made those noises and made sure he damn well took it all in. His kisses remained so gentle, so tender…

He lets out a gasp as his hot breath caresses your skin - it was satin soft and felt better than he'd ever imagined. “Reiner…" You breathe involuntarily, fingers running through your own hair. A groan vibrated his entirety hearing you say his name in such a way. Your tone, desperate. Wanting him. Needing him. All things he'd day-dreamed about for two whole years. And it was actually happening. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was going to savour this moment. He leans back with shaking breaths, his fingertips gently grabbing your calf and lifting up your leg, his eyes not leaving yours as he grazes his lips down your inner thigh. Before you knew it, your back was arched in such wonderful pleasure as he leans down and encases his mouth over your bloom.

You watch the muscles in his shoulders and back flex under his skin as he slowly and sensually makes out with your slit, placing your leg up over his shoulder. "Ah~~" You melodically sing, eyes clasping shut. He grunts into you, the vibration of his vocals only adding to how good it all felt.

He tries to ignore his aching cock, now so hard it was dancing in rhythm of his pulse, begging for some friction as he watched the love of his life bare and vulnerable in the most beautiful way for him.

His tongue pin-points your bundle of nerves and he begins to flick it and roll his warm, wet muscle against it.

The deep cherry hue across your cheeks darkened further as he relentlessly invades your most sensitive spot.

How can this feel so good…? Your legs began to shake and you try your best to stifle your moans, biting down on your finger.

Reiner continues, slowly massaging the insides of your legs as he works you, his brows still furrowed and desperate, eyes now closed as he drinks in the moment. Something primal was taking over him and it was all so new. This was his woman. He'd die for you. He was made to protect you, make you happy and feel good. He whimpers into you, unable to handle all of these feelings and emotions.

He begins to rock his head up and down, his mind flashing of how jealous every single one of his friends would be if they knew. But he wasn't going to tell them. This moment was sacred to him. Your fingers run through his hair as it felt as though you were being pushed higher and higher.

"R-reiner…" You whimper as you reach realms of pleasure you didn't even think were possible. He picks up his pace thinking about how he hopes and prays you would use him for all of your needs in the future. If you're ever feeling fired up, he'd be more than happy to just have you ride his face into bliss and nothing else.

The golden moment approaches as he relentlessly keeps flicking his tongue until you go higher and higher and… Your legs tense and begin to shake, eyes close as you rides your huge orgasm through heavens gate.

Shit… Reiner thinks, totally now boarderlining into feral territory of arousal, having his love come undone into his mouth.

He slows to a stop when he feels your legs relaxing, his mouth not stopping and trailing kisses hungrily back up to your stomach, breast, neck and lips.

"You're so perfect." He whispers heavy lidded between kisses and burying his head into your neck. "I love you. God, I love you…"

Tears pricked both sets of eyes at how heightened and intense everything was.

"Make me yours…" You whisper back before nipping his earlobe with your teeth. He instantly returns to your face, cupping it and his muscular back hunches - his free hand grabbing the large base of his shaft.

“You ready for me, baby?” He breathes. You nod. He lines up his gleaming, pulsing head before pushing gently, your tiny entrance being invaded by him as he hisses, your finger returning to your teeth to stifle how amazing you feel.

He pushes harder. “ Y-y/n…" He whimpers, totally overwhelmed both with physical stimulation and emotion.

He gently removes your hand from your mouth. "Don't try to be quiet… I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I can make you feel…" He pushes again, a little firmer, his head popping in past the first hurdle. You cry out in surprise, pleasure and a little bit of pain.

“You okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s just finished sprinting a whole cross-country race. He paws your head gently. “Yeah…��� He pushes again, your tight insides slowly ingesting him like a snake with a large meal - your ridges massaging him as they spasm with glee around him - his moans now a lot louder than before, as he jitters to a stop at the hilt.

“Fuck…” His tone sounds like he’s about to burst into tears as he slowly starts to pull out and slide back in again.

He's always tried his best not to curse around you, but this time it just poured out of him from how good it all felt. It felt like he had to fight the urge to burst into tears of joy just from how amazing it all felt. Encased snuggly, deeply inside of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

The full feeling of Reiner Braun was better than ecstasy, his girth pushing and stretching you, his cock bending up slightly at the tip, already pushing against your g-spot as he trembles above you. With each slow thrust, your pleasure being pushed to an impossible new high, your nails sinking into his large back as you clung onto him for dear life - tears pooling at the corners of your orbs from how amazing it all felt. Like the only two people in the world were you and him, souls connected and swirling around the cosmos in the eternal dance of lovers.

His fat head that curved up slightly kept hitting a spot you didn't even know you had, making each slow drag of his king cock feel even better. The full feeling of him was beautiful, his short pubic hair also friction against your previously licked sweet spot.

Reiner didn't know what to do - it was all too much but in a good way. He'd never felt such pleasure like it and his hands roam your body; breasts, ass, hips, legs, face… he's spoilt for choice.

He pushed himself right in and stopped, his heavy breathing steaming up the air as he presses his forehead against yours. Your tunnel spasmed and clenched around him, massaging and milking him with strength.

"Urgh…" He groaned loudly as he feels your insides gripping him and trying to pull him in further. "S-so beautiful…" He runs his fingers through your hair gazing into your eyes. He pulls back and thrusts, this time more firmly. Your breasts bounced and eyes closed, your lips parting.

"Look at me…" He husks.

Your eyes open and lock onto his in a haze.

"I want you to keep looking at me…" he swallows hard as he painfully slowly drags himself out, before pushing in again.

"Ah ~ ! Reiner ! I can't take it, it's too good…" You beg, not really knowing exactly what you're begging for.

"Let me do this…" he pulls out slowly. "Whenever you need me to… please…" He thrusts harder.

"Ah ~!" His hand gently takes your chin. "Promise me you'll let me fuck you forever."

Thrust.

"Yes! Yes! Reiner, I - I'm going to…"

“Oh, baby…” He groans, eyes rolling as he plunges a little faster. “Me too. It feels so - n’urgh. So good…”

“Reiner!” You sob hysterically as you snap, coming undone around him as your legs tremble and head throws back. As you unravel around him, your name leaves his lips over and over and over again, each time louder than the last, as his thick and large cum shot explodes inside of you, his atomic detonation causing mass devastation as his legs quiver and eyes cross.

He leaves himself buried inside of you as he catches his breath, desperate whimpers escaping his vocal chords as he plants frantic kisses against your neck and cheek.

You stare into the void, the violent after shocks of your orgasm sending shivers throughout your entire body, the spasms of your insides squeezing and releasing Reiner's slowly softening dick.

"That was... amazing..." You hear him from somewhere below you as you're still floating in the clouds of satisfied haze. "I - I told you I wouldn't last long."

You silence him by running your fingers through his hair.

It didn't matter.

You were together now and nothing was going to take this high away from you.