#if you know how i feel why would you say that etc etc

[wcters]

𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 3.5k+

summary: after travelling with lando to the last couple of grand prix’s, it takes another driver flirting with you for him to realize his feelings

request: “i've been seeing clips of lando not eating and taking care of himself properly during this short break and max stressing out on the stream could you please write a lando x reader please, where reader is close friends with lando and max and takes it upon herself to travel with lando for the remaining of the gps to make sure hes well. maybe one of the drivers tries to flirt with her during one of the races and thats what makes lando realise he has feelings for her. “

warnings: sweating, talks of unhealthy habits, awkward flirting | what other driver to flirt with her than the one who flirts with everyone, sorry i’ve kind of make him look like a dick i just don’t know how to flirt 🤷‍♀️ not too confident in this one

You’d been friends with Lando almost as long as Max had. You’d been friends with Max for almost your whole lives ━━ meeting him when his family was visiting some of their family during the summer in your town and you two hit it off. You had known about Lando, but you didn’t fully meet him until about a year after the two boys had met. The two of you connected instantly. Both of you don’t know why, though Max had always joked that you two were each others person . . . and you both didn’t know, but he tried the trick the two of you into getting together. He could see the look in Lando’s eyes when he’d look at you, but he’d always make excuses. ‘She’s just a friend, I’m too busy with formula 1,’ etc. Max would just roll his eyes.

You were a bit more accepting to the idea, because you did like him a little bit. Though you didn’t want to ruin the friendship and didn’t want to interrupt his career. You cared too much, and would rather be friends with him than mess it up in a chance that he liked you. Don’t get me wrong, you’d had boyfriends over they years, but the came and went, and you ended up going to Lando or Max about another boy who broke your heart. Every time that happened, Lando swore his heart broke a little bit, but he never told you. He was never really open with his feelings, and that’s why you didn’t notice he wasn’t doing for awhile.

You had known Lando was stressed about this current F1 season. He always talked about it, not about the stress, really, just more about how the car was, the team was, and there was undertone that only you or Max could sense. You both kept an eye on him, but you had recently gotten busy with some stuff. Checking your phone had slipped your mind and you don’t even think to do it until you finally had some time to yourself and you ordered some takeout. It wasn’t until you texted the group chat that Max called you.

“You alright?” You asked him, mouth full of Chinese food. “Yeah. You?” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, “yeah.” There was some silence before a sigh from the other end. “Usually I don’t get into his business because he can handle himself, but I’m worried about Lando.” You raised your eyebrows and set your food down on the coffee table and paused your television. “What do you mean? Is he okay? I know he’s been stressed but I didn’t think it was anything he hasn’t handled before. It’s Lando, you know?” You ranted, eyes drawing to a picture of the three of you on your wall.

“I know. I wasnt going to do anything besides talk to him about it, but he’s blocked me out. He’s been mentioning ━━ unknowingly, because if he did he wouldn’t say it all ━━ that he’s not been eating well. In the sense that he’s eating expired food that will get him sick but he doesn’t want to go out and not showering a lot. At first, I thought he was just over-exaggerating, but then it continued and when I’d ask, he’d push me off. I don’t think he’s well.” You frowned. “Where is he now? At home?” “Yeah. We’ve been streaming together, and that’s when I started to notice his tone of voice and stuff. I think the stress of the championship is taking a toll on him.”

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll force him to talk to me. I’ll see what we can do. And before you apologize, I know you have other shit going on right now. It’s also nothing to apologize for. He’s our friend. I’ll let you know how it goes okay?” You smiled, hoping Max was feeling better. Knowing him, he was. You picture him with his shoulders becoming less tense and him letting go of the ridge of his nose he was squeezing. “Okay,” he sighed, “let me know if you crack him. “Like an egg.” You both laughed and you ended the call.

You grabbed your computer from the coffee table and opened it, checking the time. It was eight pm. Monaco was only an hour ahead of the UK, and you knew he’d still be up. He’s usually is ━━ and he doesn’t sleep well when he’s stressed. You went on to FaceTime and clicked his name. It only rang a couple times before his face popped up. “Hey.” He greeted you. Even before he talked you could tell something was wrong ━━ his sunken cheeks, his pale face, he literally lived in Monaco, he should not be pale, and his eye bags. His voice solidified your thought. It was tired and strained, like he didn’t have the energy to fake it.

“Hey buddy, how are you?” He replied with an ‘okay and kept eating whatever expired thing it was now. “. . . Are you sure?” You paused before asking, not wanting to set him off. He paused as well and looked up at the screen. “Did Max put you up to this?” He asked you. He wasn’t even mad, he was just tired. “Lando, you’re not doing okay.” You softly told him. He was about to reply before his resolve cracked and he started to sob. You wished you were there to hood him, knowing that he was alone, and he was alone while he want okay. “I know, I know I’m not. But I’m too tired to do anything about it,” he hiccuped as he spoke, “i just wish you were here. I cant do this alone. I have to go back in two days and I’m not ready.”

It was at that moment you made your decision. You kept him on as you booked a one way ticket to Monaco. “Then you won’t be,” you told him, “I’m coming over there. Max can’t, but I can. And I will. You won’t be alone Lando, not anymore.” The man let out a sigh in response and his face started to loosen up. It was quiet before a small ‘thank you’ made its way out of his mouth. “Always.” You smiled at him. “Now, when I get there I expect your ass to be waiting for me in one of those stupid cars of yours.” Lando let out a guttural laugh, and he had to admit it felt good. “You got it.”

Lando kept his promise, and as you stood out front of the Monaco airport, you spot him. His face is scanning the area, trying to find you, but he passes right over you. You shake your head ━━ for a formula one driver, he can be oblivious. “Muppet! Over here!” His eyes finally meets yours and his face lights up. “Hey.” You greet each other as you hug. “Hey. Nice to see you.” He told you as he grabbed your bags and piled them into the trunk. “You too. Someone had to save your ass.” He looks at you with a ‘really?’ face and you shrug and get in the car.

You chat all the way to his house. It took a little while because when you stopped for gas, a couple fans spotted him and asked for pictures, but you weren’t in any rush. A rush meant less time with him. You also knew meeting the fans made him happy, his face may not say it, but when you three would FaceTime he’d rant with a giant smile on his face about the fans he’d met and gifts he’d got. You and Max always teased him about it, joking that he’s such a hotshot and ‘you’re so popular!’ but that’s all that it was, jokes.

When you got to his house, you only pulled a couple things out of your suitcase as you were leaving with him the next day. You showered, and then forced him to take you to the grocery store to make him real food, not food that’s been sitting in his fridge or freezer for months. You ended grabbing things to make Alfredo and headed back, putting music on, grabbing some wine, and getting to it ━━ though it was mostly you cooking and Lando almost hurting himself with the most random things. You didn’t know how he lived by himself.

After that, he still hasn’t packed his bag ━━ which you scolded him like a child for ━━ and helped him pack it. You think his neighbours thought it was a domestic by the way you two bickered.

“What about this one?” “I don’t know.” “Lando. You have until tomorrow, and at this rate, you’ll be going naked.” “People won’t mind that.” “You’re so gross. Get out of my sight.”

You continued to bicker to the point where you shoed him off with a wave of your hand ━━ he didn’t actually leave, just talked to you with a smug look on his face ━━ and you chose clothes for him. You were definitely telling Cisca about this. At the end of it, you two were giggling at the movie you had put on, drunk off wine and delirious after the loss of sleep. You didn’t even know you fell asleep until you woke up by the sound of Lando’s alarm. You had to wake him up with so much force it almost pushed him off the couch. “Wake up you dickhead.” You two were a mess of limbs tangled together. That was the closest you two had ever been.

It didn’t take long ━━ with you practically shoving him out the door ━━ to arrive at the airport and get on the McLaren private jet. You felt a bit weird getting on as you even offered to get your own flight, but Lando looked at you like you had grown two heads and replied with “Oscar’s girlfriend uses it, you get to too.” That made you blush. You didn’t think he realized how the words sounded. When you got in, Lily and Oscar were already seated. You greeted each other and you went off with Lily as Oscar and Lando talked about the race coming up with their team over a zoom call.

Though you had heard of Lily, this was your first time meeting her. She was incredibly nice and you two got along great, even exchanging numbers incase you wanted to rant about ‘how annoying the boys were’ with a wink. That was pretty much how the plane ride went, you and Lily chatting and laughing as the boys talked strategy. Both of you didn’t know this, but you and Lando kept stealing glances at the other. When Oscar asked, Lando’s excuse was ‘she’s my best friend, just making sure she’s alright,’ but yours was a bit different.

You had been showing Lily pictures of the three of you: Max, you, and Lando, and sharing stories before she asked “what’s up with you and Lando?” You paused and turned to look at her. “What do you mean?” She gave you a look. You sighed, “we’re just friends.” “In a ‘I’m denying it way’ or a ‘I like him, but we’re just friends’ way?” “The second one. I mean, he’s my best friend and I love him, but I like him a little bit. But I’d rather face it alone than lose the friendship.” You whispered that part, looking to make sure Lando wasn’t looking. She nodded, “I get that . . . But are you sure he doesn’t like you back?” “He burps in my face and eats my food. I’m sure.

She let out an ‘okay’, dragging out the ‘y’. Though Lily wanted to say that Oscar did that too ━━ besides the burping part ━━ she didn’t. She figured you’d eventually figure it out, or she and Oscar’s would give you the little push you needed.

You must’ve fell asleep soon after you put in your hand phones and put on your playlist as you woke up to someone attempting to pick you up. “Hm?” You asked, still half asleep. You heard a quiet ‘shot’ before the voice spoke up louder. “Time to wake up.” You opened your eyes to see Lando standing in front of you. “What a way to wake me up with a jumpscare of your face.” You mused as you got up and stretched. You were always a bit grumpy when you woke up and that’s why Lando wanted to lift you so you’d stay awake. “I will hit you.” He replied to you as you made your way down the stairs of the plane and on to the tarmac. “I’ll tell Cisca.” That shut him up real quick.

The city of Austin, Texas passed by you in blurry images. Usually Lando would’ve poked you until you finally turned to him and hit him in the back of the head, but it was your first time in Austin and he let you take it all in. When you got closer to the hotel though, that’s when he started to annoy you. You did hit him in the head when the car parked in front of the hotel, and Lily and Oscar heard the aftermath of that with Lando mumbling an ‘ow’ and rubbing the back of his head.

“I don’t even hit you that hard!” “Yes you did, I have brain damage.” “I’ll give you brain damage if you keep complaining.”

The four of you made it into the hotel and up to your rooms, albeit with a little fuss with you and Lando bickering, but when you got into the room, you immediately flopped on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a hotel with a bed as nice as this.” Lando looked surprised. “Really?” You nodded as you sat up and crossed your legs. “You told me Max payed for you for that one hotel in Italy?” You stayed silent. “Did he not pay for you?” “No, i payed for myself . . . At a different hotel. It’s not his fault though, I told him you payed for me.”

You knew you were in for a scolding when you saw his face, and you were. You tried so hard not to giggle at his face. He was halfway through a sentence when you finally broke. “What?” “Your face is really funny when you’re mad. You make a weird face.” “I do not!” “You do, ask Max.” “Whatever.” He continued and then made you promis to never do that to him or Max with a pinkie promise. You rolled your eyes and did it. After that, you two got ready for bed. You had gotten into your individual beds and turned the lights off when you spoke up. “It was a good plan though. None of you had a clue.” “. . . It was good. But you’re not doing it again.” “. . . Damn.”

You stayed with Lando for the rest of the US Grand Prix, only letting him go for interviews, racing, and media ━━ though you made sure to check on him during the day when you could. When you couldn’t be with him, you’d hang out in the garage with Lily, or you’d tag along with the other girls who were there that Lily introduced you to. You’d particularly made friends with Alexandra, you two hitting it off almost immediately.

You passed out almost immediately when you got back to Monaco for the next couple days before you had to leave again, and it felt like a blur. You only remember a little of it ━━ showers, movies with Lando, and sleeping ━━ before you were being shipped off to the next Grand Prix. You had no idea how he did it. You knew he’d been doing this awhile, but the jet lag was enough to hve you feeling hazy. You were sure Lando had gotten so many pictures of you sleeping and sent them to Max. There was one time when you woke up while he was taking one and you couldn’t get his phone in time . . . Though you did threaten to post an embarrassing photo of him during his teenage years if he didn’t delete. He showed you him deleting it, and the redownloaded it. You found this out later after Lando sent it to the group chat. That dickhead.

You were now in Brazil, two weeks later, heading into the Paddock with Lando. You offered to stay behind and let him have pictures taken of just him but he waved you off, joking that ‘you’d make him look better.’ In response to that you gave him the finger and walked in front of him ━━ thought you had no idea where you were going ━━ with his laugh resonating behind him.

You were excited for Brazil. You’d always wanted to go there since you were kid, fascinated with the culture and country, but your family never had enough money and you had been busy every previous time the Brazil Grand Prix took place. You had ranted to Lando the whole car ride there, him giggling at how excited you got. He didn’t find it weird or annoying, just happy that it made you happy. You hung it in the McLaren garage with the boys and Lily until it was time to start media, then you made your way to the Williams garage to find the other Lily. It was one of the races she was able to make it to and you had planned to meet up.

When you got to the garage, you passed Alex and Franco. You had met Alex, but you had yet to the men the new rookie. You’d heard of his flirty reputation from Lando, laughing at him. You eventually found Lily with some help and you two stayed at the Williams garage for a little bit before you both decided to grab some coffee. You talk about her career, your families, friends, and things going on recently. You told her how you ended up here ━━ obviously keeping some details out for Lando’s sake ━━ as you grabbed the coffee and made rounds around the Paddock.

It when you had stopped by the bathroom so Lily could go that you saw Franco again. You were on your phone when you heard his voice. “I saw you at Williams, no?” You lifted your head to see him leaning against the wall beside you, facing you. “Yeah. I was going to see Lily.” He nodded and hummed. “Are you here with Lily?” He smirked. When he did that you realized what he was doing. “No. I’m with someone else. A friend.”

“A friend, huh?” You forced yourself not to roll your eyes. You nodded. “Well, since they’re just a friend, do you want to get to know each other?” You were about to respond when Lily came out. You handed her her stuff as she greeted Franco. You were about to leave before you turned to him, “not really.” He looked like he’d been slapped in the face, not expecting that response.

Lily never asked, but you had a fleeting she knew what took place based on what you said last to him, the look on her face, and the quiet giggles she let out. You two continued to walk around the paddock until Alex texted her that he was done. She apologized but you told her not to be and tell Alex you say hi.

You weren’t in a hurry to get back to the McLaren garage so you took your time, strolling past different areas and looking at food stops. When you did get the garage, you saw Lando with an annoyed expression and you made your way over, bumping your shoulder into his. “What’s up?” He looked at you. “You met Franco?” You raised your eyebrows, not expecting him to know that. “Yeah . . . How’d you know?” “Oscar told me.” You nodded slowly. He seemed upset. There was a beat of silence before you realized what he was feeling.

“Are you jealous?” He spun his head around to face yours. “No!” You raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Sure.” You looked at the screen he was just watching, pretending to leave it as you noticed him fiddling with his hands. “Yes. I was.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, almost as if he was scared to say it. “Why?” He cleared his throat, “because he was flirting with you. I know he was.” “Why does that matter?”

There was some more silence. “Because i like you.” You opened your mouth in shock, not prepared to hear that. You opened and closed it before you spoke. “Really?” He took your expression in the wrong way and responded with a ‘forget it’ and moved to put his headphones back on before you grabbed them out of his hands and forced him to look at you. “I like you too, you muppet.” Now it was his turn to be shocked. When he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, you grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. It was weird. I mean, you’d imagined it, but you never expected it to happen.

When you pulled away, his cheeks were red and he had a sappy smile on his face. “So . . . Can I take you out on a date after this then?” You snorted, “well I hope so. I want to be treated, Mr. Norris.”

[softness-and-shattering]

Thats a good point, I see all kinds of neurodivergence in my family but only a couple of us in my generation, afaik, have a diagnosis.

However, my gp attended a recent talk about overlap of queer folk with neurodivergence and also a group of comorbid illnesses including, iirc, POTS/MCAS/EDS/CFS theres a couple others Im just blanking. Digestive issues? Things that we've broadly noticed as a community, and it seems like its starting to be studied.

And also, everyone has some kind of trauma, idk how many people if any have no kind of disability whatsoever, humanity is vast and diverse. And we're wired to look for patterns. Interpret this information how you will, I certainly cant say for sure if these patterns are broader than trans people, or are more people trans than we expect, are we seeing correlation or causation or is there a mechanism in common with all these labels thats the deeper cause, is queerness an interchangeable/'sometimes' factor or a central one, we are way too early to know that yet.

I think its probably not nothing. But we're also not uniquely fucked up. Maybe we're just sticking out, so to speak, so thats where the research is starting. Many people werent taking ME/CFS seriously until long covid prompted more research bc, iirc, there was now a lot more people affected who were harder to ignore. And who were seeking help. Like a lot of people have an allergy or a dodgy wrist or "that weird thing with my digestion" and they dont consider it a disability or seek treatment, yknow? And especially mental health and especially what runs in families, it looks normal to you so why would you ever bring it up to a dr? "Everyone struggles with these things. Everyone feels this way" well you do and your parents and aunts and uncles do and your siblings do, and maybe you told a dr forty years ago you were in pain and they brushed you off so you thought everyone was walking around in agony.

And that gets into an adjacent conversation about medicalising and diagnosing and when does that help and when is it like, making a negative thing of normal human experiences and variations, its not a disorder till its negatively impacting your life, if youre surviving but treatment could help you thrive is it worth the side effects etc etc plus the whole discussion of psychiatry in particular which can be an amount of guesswork and diagnostic labels are often just patterns of symptoms that we see oftrn go together and we dont always yet understand the underlying neurology. (One of my all time best therapists kept up with the latest neuroscience and always had very good and effective suggestions. I only stopped seeing her bc I moved away. If you can be seeing professionals who are keeping up with research, definitely prefer them over someone who hasnt learned anything since they completed training 50 years ago. Always.)

Tl;dr I agree with OP and also this stuff is extremely complex and we're always learning new things about us!

something that should be taken with a grain of salt are the statistics talking about the high rates of mental illness + neurodivergence among trans people (ocd, bpd, adhd, autism, etc)

I see both sides of the political spectrum taking these studies at face value - conservatives say we're broken, and trans people try to come up with reasons why for example autism + gender dysphoria makes sense and why one of them feeds into another

at the end of the day you have to remember that we're the one category of people on this planet who are legally required to go see a psychiatrist in order to receive non-psychiatric medication and surgeries.

more trans people are in therapy by law than any other demographic of people, and as a result, this captures more comorbidities.

if I had to look at my own family & rates of mental illness?

mom, dad, 2 maternal aunts, maternal grandmother, paternal grandmother, sister, sibling, and me all have OCD.

7/9 of them are cishet, never been to therapy, never diagnosed. 2/9 are trans, required therapy for hormone treatment, and were diagnosed.

you don't have to do any math to just see that the resulting statistics end up intensely skewed.

and we can think back to how autism was virtually never diagnosed more than 50 years ago - ruling out any grandparents being included in statistics - and even my parents' generation (they're in their 60s now) wouldn't have been included either.

I don't think it's to anyone's benefit to accept these studies uncritically. a lot of these things are hereditary and far more prevalent in the overall population than people realize

[reignpage]

Hi!! If you have the time- how would the jjk guys react to the reader giving them the silent treatment?

I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Gojo:

Would try to make you laugh at first When that doesn't work and he notices you're just getting more irritated, he'd start bribing you Buys you flowers, handbags, dresses, jewellery you name it If you're still silent, then he'll go deadly serious Would confront you in the dark, sitting on the sofa like he's been waiting for hours 'Is there nothing I can do? Are we done for good? Are you leaving me too?'

Geto:

Gets snarky Two can play that game He's not the calm and patient guy everyone thinks he is He just reacts in subtle ways Makes passive-aggressive comments But eventually will get tired, sighs and just asks you straight up what he did wrong 'Alright, what happened? Let me inside that head of yours.'

Choso:

Keeps asking you what's wrong Gets really sad and depressed Very much kicked puppy vibes Just follows you around everywhere Until you crack 'I didn't know what I did but I'm sorry. Please talk to me? I'm scared'

Toji:

LOL LMFAO ROFL This man would be soooo annoying He'd be smug as hell at first Says shit like 'It's nice to have peace and quiet here' 'You should get mad at me more often ma' BUT eventually realising you're not gonna crack He'll start to get nervous Starts cleaning up after himself Double checks to make sure the trash is out, he hasn't left any dishes in the sink, didn't miss any appointments or anniversaries etc etc Would send Megumi in to get a feel for your mood 'make yourself extra cute kid' 'ask her why she isn't speaking to me. no don't tell her I told you to. whose side are you on?'

Nanami:

Would ask you immediately if there's something wrong Is so mature and healthy it's irritating 'please communicate with me, darling. I can't apologise and fix whatever I ruined if you don't talk to me.' Eventually, he'll give you space But then you'll start feeling really bad because he'll assume that you hate him or something Like, he'll start buying sandwiches to take to work cause he thinks you won't make lunch for him like normal or sleeps on the couch eats dinner and watches shows by himself so you cave first and the smile he gives you is so worth it

Sukuna:

Doesn't notice a thing at first He isn't the type to be clingy, he's not the affectionate one, he mostly returns it So there'll just be a period of silence Until he begins to feel your absence in which case he'll seek you out and then becomes the clingy one 'it is a pleasant day out, would you care to join me for a stroll? gets sooo offended if you don't say anything 'no? would you prefer to stroll with someone else? tell me who and they will be killed. in fact, continue to remain in silence and everyone will be killed.'

Yuji:

Confused :0 asks Nobara for advice 'you're a girl, she's a girl. so tell me what's going on' 'is it the time of the month?' uses loads of different tricks to make you break performs dances and skits gets Gojo involved tries to get Megumi involved (no chance) he's so stupid you just have to cave and explain he's an idiot and he'll nod happily

Megumi:

yeahhhhhh you'll be having a silent off for days and weeks you'll both continue to co-exist in silence it's just not smart

Inumaki:

annoying as hell texts you shit like: 'when she copies you' 'ho is u good?' 'can you be original at least?' when that doesn't work he'll break into your social media or gaming accounts right in front of you and threatens to release a post pretending to be you like 'you know, hitler wasn't that bad' or an ugly picture of you then you'll have to cave and he gets so caught up in the victory, he'll accidentally post it yep, he's a dead man walking

[twopoppies]

I know now is not the time but I can't help how I feel. I just don't get why the boys wouldn't put on a united front at the funeral.///

Hello...I'm starting to see ALOT of comments like these so I'm going to chime in here. I know an American journalist who was there representing a large American news outlet. There was quite literally a bounty of sorts to get a picture of the 4 of them together. So..long story short...there was a conscious decision on their part to not let that happen. Arriving separately...pairing up etc. They wanted to keep the focus where it belongs..not on "One Direction". IF anything comes out..it'll most likely be on their terms. It's actually pretty impressive how they went at this as a unit to control the narrative. Anyone who says "they hate each other" couldn't be more WRONG.

And there you have their united front. Good for them. I’m sure there would be a HUGE amount of money paid for a photo of them interacting. God, that is so infuriating.

[blackiron11]

Be careful what you wish for

Pairing: reader x rio vidal

Trigger warning: body shamming, self harm, suicide attempt, hate self (if you find more, pls let me know)

English is not my first language, etc etc etc. I don't know how to write romance very well either, but I tried. besides, I'm sure I exaggerated the amount of "you" written. I hope you like the story

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You are tired of the daily humiliations and an unhappy life, you want to die. Luckily, a certain Lady Death has a few things to say about your life.

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You come home tired every day. Tired of the humiliations at work, of having to report every mistake made by employees, of your boss yelling at you, all for a mere minimum wage.

You even asked for a salary increase, but he laughed in your face. A promotion would mean that you would have to present yourself to the shareholders and he couldn't allow that, you know why; to get ahead in life, you need to have the right weight and the right face. You don't have that. You know it, your parents know it and your boss knows it, because he looks you up and down, while denying all your dreams.

"But you are a good employee, who knows next year?" he says before you leave. You feel the humiliation run through your veins.

Yes, next year. If your size "L" becomes "XS", if you put on contact lenses and don't wear glasses, if you do facial harmonization. Yes, you have a chance.

Your colleagues don't like you either. They focus on your appearance and the fact that you're too shy and introverted. They've never invited you to Happy Hour after work, or to one of their birthdays either; you don't like drinking, but you've always wanted to fit in.

You decide you don't care. But the truth is that you care so much that it's hurt so bad, and you need to do something to stop this pain.

You also get tired of your parents asking for money or wanting to get a boyfriend to you, never asking how you are or coming to visit you. You get tired of not having friends, or anyone to lean on. You get tired of life.

You sigh as you change your clothes. You always wear long-sleeved shirts and jeans. You don't want anyone to see how ugly you are... inside and out.

You look at yourself in the mirror, only in your underwear. You analyze the cuts on your skin, everywhere you can reach, you made a lot of cuts, especially on your arms and thighs; some are older, most are recent, leaving blood stains on the clothes you wore.

Your reflection stares back at you, looking amused. You hug yourself, trying to hide from your own gaze, but to no avail. You feel dirty, your sagging skin falling apart in tour hands.

In a world where there are Avengers, supreme wizards, witches, heroes and villains, you feel like nothing. You are nobody.

With no desire at all, you take a shower, using a sponge forcefully on your body, as if that would wash away all the extra pounds. Your hard movement causes the fresh cuts to reopen and you see blood going down the drain along with the soap and water. You are numb.

You remember the ways to calm down your therapist taught you, but they don't work. They never did.

When you see your sleeping pills, you decide that this suffering is no longer worth it. You are not worth it. This will be the first and last time you put yourself first.

You won't leave any letters or explanations, it's not necessary. No one will miss you.

You gather all the medicines you can find and put them in the blender along with the alcohol, there's no going back. You know won't be, you don't want to go back.

No amount of stomach pumping will solve it, in case some gossipy neighbor decides to help you. You've made sure of that.

You need peace. If what's necessary for that is for you to face death, you'll do it with a smile on your face.

You put on the first pajamas you find and drink the entire contents of the glass, grimacing and choking as the liquid burns your throat.

Finally, you lie down on your bed one last time, ready for a dreamless sleep, and then, never to wake up again.

-----------

You opened your eyes, still groggy, and found a vision. A woman in a black robe stared at you. You just thought she was beautiful.

Y/N doesn't believe in God; But if there is an afterlife, you always thought you would be punished for killing yourself. At the very least, you are at the Valley of Suicides, and would suffer in mourning for ages. Either that, or you would go to hell.

However, looking at this woman in front of you, you thought you were in paradise.

The figure softened her expression, smiling a little bit, as if she had heard your thoughts, but soon closed herself off.

"Why did you do that?" she asked you, worried.

Y/N couldn't understand where she was or who that woman was... Maybe she was a neighbor? She thinks she's never seen you in her life, but her vision betrays you, completely blurred.

"I didn't mean to," you answered automatically, not used to someone talking to you for more than five minutes.

The woman didn't believe you. Rio saw your arms and the scarred cuts, but chose not to comment; she didn't want to scare you.

It wasn't the first time Rio had been called to a death by suicide and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but you were intriguing. Usually the others had someone by their side, but you were alone. She didn't want to leave you like this, not when you looked so fragile.

"Who are you?" Your conscience was leaving you, but you wanted to understand.

"I'm Lady Death , my dear." Rio approached you. "I'm here, because you called me."

Was that supposed to make sense? No coherent thought was going through your mind, the various medicines you had swallowed doing their job.

"Am I still alive?" You asked rhetorically, before your body shut down from the pressure.

Rio sighed, wondering where she had gotten herself into.

As the natural order of all things, she could simply heal you and leave, but that wouldn't solve anything. Death can't heal someone's psyche; and once your senses returned, you would try to kill yourself again. Rio couldn't let that happen. She would help you, even if it meant saving you from yourself.

---------------

For weeks, Rio healed your stomach and your injuries a little at a time, and you were getting better, with no more risk of complications because of it in the future.

She would make you food, wake you up and help you to eat, staying with you until you fell asleep again, your body still very weak.

She started to notice you more, how you slept peacefully, the dimples that formed on your face when you smiled, or how your eyes looked at her curiously, even though you couldn't hold a coherent conversation for long.

You don't remember any of this. Your consciousness came and gone the whole time.

-------------

Until one day, you woke up completely lucid. On autopilot, you went to get ready for work and saw yourself in the mirror. You were horrified when you remembered...

You...were alive? You're not even good enough to kill yourself, my God! How is that possible?

You wanted to scream, throw yourself off the building, hit your head hard against the wall until blood came out, anything. You were confused, your mind was all jumbled up. You had planned everything!! Did someone save you??? Why would someone do this?

You were going to puke. You ran to the bathroom, trying to hold on to the walls, shaking. You needed to calm down. You needed to understand what was happening.

The easiest thing to calm you down was your old friend; but when you made the first cut, you noticed that all the others were missing.

No. No. NO!

This can't be happening. It's a nightmare, right? A medication-induced nightmare. Soon it will all pass and you will be dead. Just as it should be.

Meanwhile, you made all the cuts you could, your hand shaking more and more. It didn't work, you hadn't calmed down.

You got up with unsteady steps and went to the kitchen, looking for a knife. You couldn't find one. You also didn't notice the presence behind you, until she spoke to you, her tone mild.

"You need to stop this, Y/N."

Rio was collecting some bodies from the other side of the world, when she felt a tug towards you. You needed her. She hoped it wasn't too late.

"Leave me alone," you shouted, feeling your eyes water. Rio tried to get closer to you, but you backed away. It took you a while to remember who she was, but the clothes she was wearing helped. Death... you almost didn't believe it. You felt betrayed. The only being you thought would truly welcome you with open arms took everything you had; including your reminders.

"You... You saved me," you accused her. Rio had the decency to look guilty. "You took away my free will, you healed me without my permission! You hurt me more than anyone else, you took everything I had." Y/N cried freely now. Tears blurred her vision.

Rio knew what you were talking about. It hurt her that you felt that way. She never wanted to hurt you, only to help you. Lady Death wished she had permission to kill everyone who hurt you throughout your life.

"You don't need them, Y/N." Rio still spoke softly, you could barely hear her.

"Why do you care?"

"I... I fell in love with you." Rio admitted what she had been thinking for days. At some point while taking care of you, she fell in love. Death had never loved anyone before.

Y/N stared at her, motionless. Then, she laughed.

"Is this some kind of joke?" she asked when she caught her breath. Rio shook her head. "Some kind of dirty game between the cosmic entities to attract the weak human's attention?" Rio shook her head once more.

"Seriously, look at me," you shouted, not understanding.

And Rio looked at you. Even with your face red from crying so much, even with the fresh cuts and so much self-loathing, Death found you beautiful.

"I'm looking at," Rio whispered. His heart heavy with your suffering.

"No!" Y/N thought Rio didn't understand. "Look at me!," you shouted with contempt this time. "How can someone like you fall for something like this?" you pointed to yourself.

Rio saw you, she understood you more than you remember. You talked a few times, even with the loose and incoherent words, Death heard you. And she was saddened by every word you said. With the self-loathing that society forced upon you at every step of your life.

Vidal didn't know how to calm you down, so she did the only thing that came to her mind at the moment. She ran to you, grabbed your face and kissed you on the mouth.

It was just a light brush of lips. Rio wanted to show you that she liked you, but you hadn't stopped talking. She wanted you to listen now.

"I see you, S/N" the woman in front of you tried to wipe away your tears, in vain. They kept coming freely. "I see you and I understand you" you found yourself relaxing your face towards the hand that caressed you. "I want to kill all those idiots who once hurt you, because you, Y/N Y/S, are an incredible woman. And not a "it thing", I am sure".

You wanted to complain, but Rio didn't let you. She wasn't finished.

"S/N, you're so sweet, so selfless, you have such a good heart" Rio continued. "Never believe anyone who tells you otherwise, because you are beautiful. Beautiful inside and out. Your life is worth living" by the look she gave you, you saw the truth in her eyes. She truly believed the words she said, even if you didn't. "I think you are the prettiest girl in the world, and The Death doesn't lies, sweetie".

Y/N couldn't answer, your body gave out and you passed out. Rio caught you before you fell and carried you to your bed.

"It's okay, my love" Rio whispered, kissing you on the forehead "I can be strong for both of us, until you make it"

-------

You woke up completely healed. Rio would leave you alone now, if you wish. It would break her heart, but she wanted you happy.

You didn't need to look around to know she was still there.

"Are you ever going to leave?" You stood up, sitting up.

"Only if you want to" Rio approached you, this time you didn't back away, but you didn't answer her.

With the physical healing, you began to remember the previous weeks and found yourself enjoying her presence; the moments you spent together. A smile escaped your lips and it did not go unnoticed by Rio.

"May I?" Vidal pointed to the space next to you and you nodded. You felt the bed sink with the new weight, and you looked down at your hands; you were suddenly embarrassed, very aware of yesterday's closeness.

"Thank you," you thanked, realizing that the cuts from yesterday were still present on your skin.

Rio nodded. "I apologize for before, I shouldn't have done that without your permission, if they were important to you."

Rio didn't apologize for saving your life. That, she didn't regret it for a second. She would do it again if she had to, but Rio really hoped it was the first and last time.

Y/N didn't answer, instead asking another question.

"Do you really like me?" You were afraid of the answer, both the "yes" and the "no."

"Yes, I do." That simple sentence made Y/N look into Vidal's soft eyes. You saw the same thing as yesterday: Unconditional love. You still.don't know how it's possible for Death to fall in love with someone like you, "And I want to be with you."

You opened your mouth, but quickly closed it. Everything that had happened to you flashed through your mind.

"The heart doesn't choose who it falls in love with, Y/N." Rio realized that you were afraid of getting hurt again, maybe it would be better to leave you alone.

"You don't have to answer, dear. I won't take up any more of your time." Death stood up, ready to leave and never see you again, if that was what you wanted.

"Wait..." you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper, "stay." You grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly.

Rio turned around and listened carefully.

"I... I like your company." you continued.

The "I like you too" was still stuck in your throat. You couldn't say it yet, it was too early. Fortunately, Death is a patient being.

"And from what I remember these past few weeks, I had a lot of fun with you," you sighed. "But I can't return your love." You looked at the floor, embarrassed. "I don't know how to love someone or be loved, I don't even know how to love myself."

Rio was silent for a few minutes. Y/N was sure she had lost her chance at happiness.

"Oh, darling," Rio knelt in front of you and caressed your face, softly. You could get used to this every day. "I can teach you to love yourself, like I love you...if you let me. I want to spend my eternity by your side."

Her eyes were so beautiful and bright, you could get lost in their immensity. You could love her over time, you know that. You just have to let yourself.

You nodded slightly and Rio smiled, moving closer.

"May I?" She asked for the second time that day, but this time it was to kiss you. You smiled, taking the initiative now.

It would be a long journey for the two of you, with some ups and downs, but Y/N would never feel hated again. Rio Vidal would kill everyone before they had the chance to hurt you.

[nickssidewitch]

✨❤️ How the Sturniolo Triplets Flirt With a Crush 😻✨ (a Tarot Reading)

Chris 🧡

Very invested, will make sure to keep up with his crush almost every single day 😭

But he also overthinks A LOT during this stage, so he’ll ease back if he thinks he’s doing too much.

He’ll post little things on his socials so the person he’s flirting with can see them. It’ll be little subliminal messages and things of that nature.

But he’ll also overthink that as well, and will probably even make little clarifications to try not to make it seem like it’s directed at someone (even though it most definitely was).

My Gosh, this man worries so much when he flirts because he hopes the girl can pick up on it and if he’s not being super cringy or he’s not making her turned off.

If he can see that the girl is enjoying his flirting, he won’t worry as much, but she has to be super direct about it, otherwise he will literally die of overthinking 😭😭

He flirts the most via social media posts, but he also texts and does FaceTime calls a lot with the person he’s into. He’ll wanna text/call them late at night just so they can both catch up on each other’s days and just vent.

He will literally stay up for hours, laying on his stomach, feet dangling in the air like a giddy schoolgirl, staring down at his phone just to see if his girl will ever call him or text him. I’m exaggerating… but also I’m not.

He’s a great listener, so he doesn’t mind a rant or a trauma dump or two 😭

He will buy his girl things that remind him of her. Little trinkets like charms and stuffed animals. He’ll buy clothes and jewelry if he sees something he knows the girl will like.

He will pay for everything.

He definitely puts on a certain voice that he doesn’t even realize. (I can hear it in my head and it’s sexy as fuck. A bit raspy and low, a bit of a whisper). He even has a look on his face and will stare at you with that look 😭 He has no clue he does it though.

Lots of music. Lotsss.

If he feels that the flirting is not working though, he will be devastated.

Nick 💜

He actually prefers being flirted with. He likes being the center of someone’s affection. *debby ryan meme*

He will do obvious things to flirt with someone. And if the guy don’t pick up on it, that’s on him ✌🏾

He’s a gift giver and acts of service kind of guy when flirting. If the man doesn’t appreciate what he’s doing by actually acknowledging it, then he’ll be devastated and won’t give you the time of day anymore.

I think he knows what he wants, who he wants, when he wants it, and sometimes why. 😭

That can be a bit intimidating for some guys because they have this expectation of him being someone who will change themselves just to get their attention. But in reality, Nick is very confident in who he is and would never change himself for a man’s attention (unless it’s literally just him working out or drinking more water, etc.)

He’s asking his brothers about what guys do in certain situations (because usually it’s a bi or more masc guy he’s into). He’ll literally go to Chris or Matt with his phone, show a text and be like “oh my gosh what does this mean??”

He’ll definitely be touchy-feely with you, and that’s a big deal because he hates touching people and people touching him. So if he’s got his arm around you, then you’re the one for him!

Matt 💙

Super invested like his brothers.

People keep saying he’ll be dry which is very untrue. That man will always find a way to keep the person he’s flirting with entertained.

He wants them to laugh and actually find him funny, otherwise it won’t work and he knows it.

Humor is a way for him to figure out whether you’re actually listening to him and understand him and the way he thinks. So if you can’t pick up on his humor or don’t laugh at certain jokes he makes, you’re out.

He likes flowers and chocolates, but doesn’t mind jewelry and expensive things to bring his girl as well. And if she’s like “Oh, Matt, you shouldn’t have”, he’ll be like “Um, yes, I definitely should have, and I did!”

He’ll send risky texts or say risky things just to see the girl’s reaction to them. Nothing too crazy or frisky. Just something that can spark a reaction that can be a telltale sign of whether she’s into it or not.

These are the basics of it! Lmk if you guys liked this post!! 🥰

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 7

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), P in V, oral (male receiving), Dom!Terry, breeding kink, spanking, bondage, degradation, rough sex, slight fluff at the end

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 6 => 🦋

*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

“Get up!” Terry said grabbing my arm. “Ow!” I whined. “Shut the fuck up! You gone have something to cry for soon,” he said looking down at me. We were chest to chest, and the side of my hip was pressed against the dining table. The sexual tension was becoming more and more unbearable as Terry's eyes burned into mine. “Just remember I love you, kitten,” he said leaning into my ear. His gaze darkened with lust and became penetrating and menacing.

It was as if Terry could see right through me. I fiddled with my hands while my gaze fell to the ground. “What's wrong, kitten? Are you nervous? Huh?” he asked lifting my chin to meet his gaze. I looked away quickly. I was unsure of how to answer that. I was slightly nervous but wasn't about to let him know.

“No, sir,” I said locking eyes with him. “Good. I don't want you to be nervous.— I want you to be fuckin' terrified,” he said pushing me onto the kitchen table, so I was flat on my back. He leaned over me and snatched the tie from the curtains. “Don't fuckin' move!” he yelled as he grabbed my hands. He tied the rope around my wrists with my palms together.

Terry’s hands moved through the side slit of my dress. Locating my panties, I felt his fingers loop around the seat of the fabric. “Y’know… I honestly don't understand why you still wear’em. I’m just gonna rip… them off!” he said snatching them from my body. The sound of the fabric ripping was deafening as it coursed through my eardrums. The kitchen table slammed into the wall forcefully.

The level of excitement and arousal I was experiencing was astronomical. I couldn't think of anything that would ever top this. His dick hadn't even touched me yet, and I was losing my mind. The heightened intensity of Terry's aggression was animalistic in nature, provoking a craving I had never felt. My heart was pounding, my skin was tingling, and my pussy was throbbing uncontrollably. He was tha much closer to fully unleashing the fervid beast within him. I was really about to let this man do whatever the fuck he wanted to me— no holds barred.

Before I could react, I was tossed over Terry’s shoulder. His arm looped around my waist as he carried me with no effort. My bound hands were hitting the back of Terry’s legs as he ascended the stairs. “Terry!” I whimpered. “Ye… What did you just call me?” Terry snapped as his movements ceased. We were positioned at the top of the stairs.

“That's not my name. You know better,” Terry said placing me on my feet before him. I staggered before regaining my balance. “Sorry— ,” I said taking a deep breath. “So, you're gonna refuse to say it? Is that what we're doing? Oh, I hope you know… I honestly do. You're asking for it, baby!” Terry said stepping closer to me. “I don't deserve respect. Is that what your tellin' me? You don't respect me?” Terry asked grabbing my chin. “Look at me when I'm talkin' to you!” Terry yelled. “Sorry—. Sorry, Daddy. I won't do it again,” I said looking Terry directly in the eyes. “Oh, that's not gonna work. On your knees, then apologize!” Terry said snapping at the floor. From that move alone, I didn't know whether I was shocked, offended, or turned on.

I looked down at the floor. I balanced my hands in front of me before slowly getting on my knees. I rested my weight on my calves and held my hands in my lap. “I'm sorry, Daddy. Forgive me for not calling you by your proper name,” I said letting my gaze linger on Terry's feet. “Unfortunately, apologies mean nothing to me. Actions speak louder than words. Let's go!” Terry said snatching me up by my arm.

He pulled me towards the open door of the master bedroom. He was practically dragging me in. He turned towards me and looped his arm around my waist., pushing me towards the bed. I sat at the foot of the bed and anxiously watched Terry's every move. He leaned over me, bringing his mouth to my ear. His hands fumbled with the knots that secured the rope around my wrists. “Strip,” he rumbled through gritted teeth.

I flexed my freed wrists as I slowly pushed the top of my dress down. The fabric bundled up around my hips like a cloud. Terry's eyes fell to my breasts. I lifted my hips to push the dress off and onto the floor. “This is your last chance to back out. Whatchu gone do, huh? I'm not gonna force you. If you're scared, let me know now,” he said standing to his full height. I held my breath as I struggled to formulate an answer. Unfortunately for me, my mouth was still in brat mode.

“Do I look scared? Or, are you just too weak to finish what you started? Don't use me as an excuse,” I said looking under my lashes at Terry. His stance stiffened as he began clenching and unclenching his fists. I watched his hands intently. I knew he wanted to hem my thick ass up.

Terry's face was obscure of emotions, almost indecipherable. I couldn't tell if he was pissed or impressed. He closed his eyes slowly and released a silent breath. His head rolled on his shoulders as if he was loosening up. I pulled my legs under me and began scooting back on the bed. Yeah, I fucked up. Terry's eyes opened and his irises had darkened to bronze. Shit! A menacing smirk spread across his face. All pretenses of softness and kindness were no longer present. “Terry” was gone.

Terry walked away and stepped into the closet. I could hear him searching through bags. He reappeared with two sets of handcuffs. Without saying a word, he used one hand and grabbed both of mine. He pulled me by arms and up to the headboard. He leaned over me and handcuffed me to it. Each hand outstretched away from me and restricting my movements. Terry pulled my body up slightly so my back was against the headboard. I was positioned in a t-pose.

He stood up beside the bed, looking down at me. “You look so pretty when you're scared, Mama. Too fuckin' pretty, honestly. Those lips, eyes, and this body do something to me. Something so carnal that I don't think I'll ever get enough of you,” he said rubbing his hands up and down my body. Soft, firm squeezes followed his gentle caresses. “Too bad, though. ‘Cause tonight I want you sloppy, disgusting, nasty even,” he said kissing my lips. I let out a small moan as I was being sucked into this fantasy, so quickly and so intensely.

Terry's hands moved down to my thighs and rubbed slowly. His hand slipped between my legs. The tips of his fingers grazed the lips of my pussy. I was beginning to squirm under his touch. “Please, do something. Anything!” I whimpered. Terry's eyes slowly rose to meet mine. He laughed at my begging. “You're gonna wish you neva said that,” he said as he climbed onto the bed. His legs rested on each side of my waist so he was straddling me.

“Look at me,” he said lifting my chin. He pushed the pillows between my back and the headboard before moving up a little more so that he was right in front of me. I was at eye level with his dick print. “I want you paralyzed by the end of the night. I want your throat sore, pussy swollen, and ass stinging. Since you like talkin' back, let's start with that throat,” Terry said unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. Naked and afraid was an understatement for how I was feeling.

He pulled down his pants and boxers altogether so they were resting on his thighs. His dick was already hard as a brick. His enjoyment was evident from the amount of precum leaking from his tip. “Open!” Terry barked. My eyes tracked the movements of his dick, swaying in my face.

I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue while making eye contact with Terry. He placed his hand at the base of his dick and began rubbing it across my tongue. I could feel his precum dripping on my tongue. “You don't even realize what I'm about to do to you,” he said pushing his entire dick into my mouth without warning. I gagged around him. “Unh unh, what you gaggin’ for? You don't remember what you did that night? Why can't you handle this dick now?” Terry said fucking my mouth. My head was pressed against the headboard as he used me. Spit bubbles were forming as drool pooled from the corners of my mouth.

He was using my mouth like a pussy. I would probably be drowning in my saliva if I wasn’t sitting up. I wanted to smile so bad, but his dick was starting to hit the back of my throat with force. I moaned around his dick and slurped up the spit seeping from the corners of my mouth. “Oh, you like this. Don't you, you nasty bitch!” Terry said smiling down at me. His hand snaked around the back of my head, acting as a barrier between my head and the headboard.

Unbeknownst to me, he was locking me into a fixed position. He placed his other hand on the wall above the bed. Using this position as leverage, Terry's thrust grew harder. I couldn't move my head even if I wanted to. THIS WAS THE EPITOME OF FACE FUCKING. I opened my mouth wider and began breathing through my nose. I relaxed my throat as much as possible, but it was getting hard. Terry's head fell back. The grunts and moans he let out were fueling me to keep going. I had never heard Terry's moans become this deep— not even the first night.

Tears were falling from my eyes as I clamped them shut. I was taking this shit like a fuckin' champ. Terry pulled back a little to release his dick from my mouth, causing me to gasp for air. “Spit and breathe,” Terry ordered. I opened my mouth, letting all of his precum and my saliva fall from my mouth. “Good girl. Don't relax, yet. I'm not done wit’ you yet,” he said pushing his dick back in.

Terry was keeping his promise. My throat was getting sorer the more he thrust. That's when I realized what he did. He wasn't giving me a fuckin' breather or break; he was edging himself so that he could keep going. This man really was a monster!

“Oh, you can handle it. Right, Big Mama?” he laughed. The look he was giving me was so devious. He knew what the fuck he was doing. I clenched my fists, tugging at the cuffs. His thrusts slowed, and his hips stiffened. He grabbed the hair at the back of my head. He yanked my head back and pulled out. He palmed his dick, aiming it at my open mouth. His cum spewed out in milky ropes. It landed on my tongue and lower face. “That's it, baby. Nasty just how I like it,” Terry groaned rubbing his dick through his cum and smearing it all over my face.

Terry slid back from me and got off the bed. He stood on the side of the bed and finished undressing himself. I took full advantage of this break to recollect myself. Terry turned back to face me and undid the cuffs. He placed them on the nightstand. Turning away from me, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the center of the bed. I gasped in shock. What the hell was he about to do now?

“Turn over and arch!” Terry demanded. I turned over and arched my ass in the air. “I can't wait to see what you look like after this,” he said palming my ass. Getting back onto the bed, Terry positioned himself behind me. I was still a bit confused by Terry's statement. What did he mean by that?

Before I could finish my thoughts, Terry's hand came down on my left ass cheek.

smack

“Shit! No warning, Daddy?” I whimpered. “What for? There's nothing you can't handle, remember?” Terry mocked. He was definitely about to make me eat my words.

smack

“Sorry, two!” I yelled looking back at Terry. He scoffed at me. “Fuck you countin’ for? I'm not stoppin’ ‘til I'm tired,” Terry laughed. I know that fear was etched on my face, but there wasn’t anything I could do but take it.

smack

Over 20 smacks later

Terry was unleashing hell with every hit, causing me to lose count. Honestly, he was right. There was no point in counting. So when I got to 23, I stopped. I was too far gone to remember or focus, and maybe he knew I would be.

My face was in the sheets, and my tears were creating a wet spot beneath me. “You done talkin' shit, or do we need to keep goin’?” he asked. “No, I'm sorry!” I begged. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Terry grunted back.

The entire time he was spanking me his dick was pressed against my ass and pussy. I could feel every movement he made, no matter how small. He was definitely getting off on this, and so was I. As much as I was enjoying this, I wanted Terry inside me. NOW! I needed him. I felt like I was on fire. If you told me I would find pleasure in getting my ass beat, I wouldn't have believed a word you said. This was different— a good different. A different I could get used to.

I was in my head when I felt Terry's hands in my hair again. “Hey, do you hear me talkin' to you?” he snapped. Fuck! I had no clue what this man had said to me. Pleasure had taken over, and I had dissociated for a moment. “Sorry,” I whimpered out. “Breathe. I need you alive. You can die on your own time,” he said. I could literally hear him smiling.

I looked back over my shoulder with my eyebrows knitted together. “Fix your face, or do I need to?” he asked rubbing his hands all over my ass. He drew his hand back. “No!” I screamed, pushing away.“Aww, look at you! Who's scared, now? Huh?” he laughed. I hated it when he laughed like this. It pissed me off to no end. It made me feel like he was laughing at me.

“Shut up and fuck me already!” I yelled. I paused at my own remark. I was so caught up in the thought of him laughing at me that I probably made my biggest mistake of the night. “I mean… I was gonna do that anyway. But now… imma fuck the shit outta you, so don't run,” Terry said grabbing my hips. He reached between us and placed his dick at my entrance.

I knew not to expect him to take it easy. He pushed in without stopping and instantly bottomed out. “Fuck!” I moaned. Every inch of him was buried inside of me. I leaned forward, trying to find relief. “Nah, where you goin’? You told me to shut up and fuck you, right? So, whatchu runnin’ for?” Terry said pulling me back.

His hips went to work. There was no build-up or time to adjust. “Daddy! Oh, shit!” I shrieked. Terry's dick was hitting spots I didn't know I had. My pussy began clenching around him. “Ahh, fuck! You good pussy havin’ bitch!” Terry mumbled. How the fuck was I this close? He had just entered me, and I was already close to cumming. How?!

Terry pounded into me like he was trying to make a second hole. I put my hand behind me, reaching for his stomach. Without a word, he grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back. If he kept pounding me like this, there was no way I was lasting longer than a few minutes.

I could feel Terry moving behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him staring at the full-length mirror in the corner. Terry turned back around to see me looking at him. As soon as that smirk returned, I knew he was up to no good.

His arms looped through mine as he lifted me from the bed. He carried me to stand in front of the mirror. “Mama, we need to have a serious talk. You remember what I asked you for earlier?” he asked. “What are you talkin' about, Daddy?” I questioned in confusion. “Having my baby. Remember that?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, but…” I started to speak before he cut me off. “But nothing. Here's the deal, Mama. You can't cum until you agree to it,” he said reaching between us.

He pushed himself back in, causing us both to moan in unison. “Damn it. That's not fair. Ahh, fuck!” I moaned. “Life isn't fair, baby girl. I told you what I wanted, and you ain't leavin’ this room ‘til I get it,” he said bending me over. He was once again fucking me mercilessly. Bottoming out with every stroke. His thrusts were not letting up. “Look at yourself. Come on, look!” Terry said gripping my hair. He pulled me up so my back was against his chest. Finally slowing down his strokes, he forced me to look in the mirror. “Tell me we wouldn't make some pretty babies? Unh unh, look. Don't close those eyes. Look at yourself, pretty girl. You tellin' me you wouldn't want a little you runnin’ around? Huh?” Terry asked while still slowly fucking me. The pleasure I felt was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. I don't know if it was the mirror or a combination of tonight's activities, but something was making me delirious. Here I was once again succumbing to the sorcery of Terry's dick.

“Talk to me. You want me to call you Big Mama, right? Right? That's what you want, Mama?” Terry asked speaking directly into my ear. The warmth of his breath radiated through my body. It was like I could feel everything— the way every vein in Terry's dick was protruding, the way the muscles in my pussy were contracting, the way Terry's balls smacked against my pussy, and the way I was surrendering to my own pleasure.

“Fuck it! Cum in me, Daddy. I want it!” I yelped. I needed to cum badly, and I could tell Terry needed to, too. His strokes were getting sloppy, and his hips were stuttering. “Yeah, you want Daddy to fill you up?” Terry said kissing my neck. “Yes, please. Cum in me. I wanna… ahhh…. I wanna have your baby!” I yelled. “ Then, take this dick, baby girl. You can do it,” Terry said, grabbing my hips. He reached around and began rubbing my clit while maintaining his pace— slow and deep. “I’m cumming,” I said panting. “I know, baby. I know. So is Daddy,” Terry said tightening his grip on my waist.

With one final thrust, Terry and I both came undone. His arms held me in place as his head fell on my shoulders. His embrace was strong and intentional like he was seeking completion.

Minutes passed as we stood there in bliss, coming down from our highs. Terry's arms slowly loosened from around me. I stumbled a little, almost falling forward. “You good?” Terry asked, turning me around to face him. “Yeah. My legs hurt. Well,… truth be told, all of me hurts,” I giggled. “It's okay. Daddy's gotcha,” Terry said, picking me up bridal style.

He walked back to the bed and gently sat me in the center before lying beside me. “Come here, Mama. I know I chose a crazy moment to bring up babies. But, let me know now. Were you serious?” he questioned. I laid back and put my leg over Terry's waist. “I mean… I don't know. I wanna say no, but deep down, I wanna say yes, too. Maybe?… You don't think it's too soon?” I questioned back, laying my head on his shoulder. “Babygirl, the choice is yours to make. Your body, your choice. If you feel it's too soon, that's fine with me. I can wait,” he said kissing my forehead. “Do you really want to be a father?” I asked him. “I've always wanted to be a dad. I just never felt comfortable enough to do it,” he said looking down at me. “So, what's making you so comfortable now?” I challenged. “You don't get it. Do you?” he asked, smiling down at me. “Get what?” I asked.

Terry lifted me so that I was straddling his waist. “You don't see yourself the way I see you. You exude this aura of love and kindness that draws people to you. Your love language is love itself. And to me, you are love… I hope that makes sense,” Terry said stroking my cheek. “It… it does,” I said as I started to cry. “Oh, no. Mama, I didn't wanna make you cry. I just wanted you to know how much I love you,” Terry said pulling me into a hug. “I love you, too. That was… that was just… a lot… for me,” I stuttered between sobs.

Terry's arm engulfed me deeper into his embrace. This was probably the safest and most loved I had ever felt. So, maybe, just maybe… ONE WON'T HURT.

Taglist: @persethegawd @kimuzostar @brattyfics @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @insidefeelingofanadult @kirayuki22 @nayaesworld

@creartivefairy @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ariiijestertheklown @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho @pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

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@qtmkenedy03 @prettypink-princesss @teeresaresa

[maddie-grove]

What do you think are some legitimate things (trends, author problems, etc) to criticize about in romance novels?

So, romance novels can be offensive in all the ways that fiction in general can be offensive, but, if I had to pick one thing that's pervasive yet fairly specific to the genre, it's the rigidity of gender roles in m/f romance. The hero is more often than not physically bigger, older, richer, and (especially in historical romance) higher-class than the heroine, and, when he doesn't have the advantage in every category, the narrative frequently (a) makes him even more powerful in the areas where he does have the advantage (i.e., she may be more aristocratic but he's very, very rich and he's friends with aristocrats now and he's big and strong and blah blah blah) or (b) is super-self-conscious about the dude being less powerful in some ways (i.e., over-explaining why he's still worthy as a partner and/or isn't put off by the heroine being taller or older or richer). I think this is sometimes a trend that comes from the top (I remember Courtney Milan saying something about getting flak for not making a hero a duke back in the early 2010s, even though he was still a confident, good-looking gentleman with money) and sometimes one that comes from readers (there was a romance review blog that I lost patience with because the reviewer couldn't relate to tall heroines). Plus, when the heroine does have more power in some way, it's usually not by a lot; like, it would be totally unremarkable if the genders were reversed. I remember reading a romance novella anthology specifically about older women/younger men, and I think only one novella had an age gap of ten or more years. (In one novella he was literally a day younger.) Meanwhile, how many historical romance novels have a twenty-year-old heroine and a thirty-year-old hero and it's treated like nothing?

On the more meta side: I think it's generally bad when authors have to spend a lot of time doing self-promotion on social media. That means less time to actually write and sometimes more self-consciousness because the book is kind of being written for people the author knows online. That's not exclusive to romance, but it is a genre largely written and read by women, and I think that results in a lot of pressure to be Nice (which includes not giving a negative opinion about a book).

I'm not a fan of the move towards "rom-com" contemporary romance, but that's largely because that's not my thing inherently. However, I do feel like many authors simultaneously want the hijinks of a romantic comedy and a romance that would be Healthy in Real Life. Which isn't impossible, but it takes more finesse than they usually have.

[unpopularly-opinionated]

I can respect that. I myself often struggle with simply existing in between what is and what should be. Ideally yes, the presidency shouldn't be decided based on who is better at selling snake oil, but that's also the reality we live in. So the question becomes: "Do we stoop to the level of making our candidate a showman/woman over an intellectual, or do we keep pushing the intellectual and hope it works one day?" And mind you, I'm using "intellectual" as more of a personality identifier than a compliment. An intellectual can have dumb as rock takes, so long as they talk smartly, they're going to come across as "intellectual". But this isn't an exact science, just my own thoughts on it, I suppose. Don't take this binary too seriously, I sure don't.

My take on why Kamala lost is somewhat of a long one. Since I feel this element of it is all but guaranteed to get me sidetracked, I'll push past the business about how she was unfairly thrust upon us as a candidate, thus proving the primaries are essentially "rigged" and pointless (at least as far as the DNC goes, but for all I know, the RNC could be the same. I'm not a Republican so I couldn't say really). This is a big reason against her though, so it shouldn't be ignored. There was no hand-waving this issue away, and we can sit here and discuss what alternatives did or didn't exist until we're blue in the face, but as I said, that would sidetrack us.

Beyond that, I believe her biggest issue is one that the Democrats have had for years now and that's just a blanket assumption that Dems will just "Vote Blue No Matter Who", the idiotic phrase I will argue against until the day I die it seems. This is most evident by her inability to work her own base to vote for her, and instead she's out parading around Liz Cheney in some feeble-minded attempt to try and win over people who do not want to vote for her.

I mean she had 7,000,000+ less people vote for her than Biden, meanwhile Trump has gained 13,000,000+ since 2016. We consistently hear about how "if everyone who didn't vote voted, statistically most of them would vote Democrat" and yet it never seems to click with Democrats that they should be currying favor from non-voters as opposed to Republican voters. I don't understand why they're so insistent on trying to flip voters when there are tons of undeclared votes just sitting there. There were around 90,000,000 people who didn't vote. Even just a few million of those in the right states would've won her the election.

And to jump back to my point about trying to flip votes, they don't even do that right either, not that there's much hope of it working to begin with. They send out completely mixed messages like sending Liz Cheney out to campaign with Kamala, indicating that yes, even some Republicans are voting for her, while simultaneously telling you that if you don't vote for her, you're an idiot, uneducated, etc.

Like I know this sounds obnoxious, but I also fail to see how it isn't just common sense. You can believe in your heart of hearts that Republicans are dumb backwater hillbilly hicks all you'd like, but when you're in the midst of an election and for some idiotic reason your candidate is trying to appeal to those dumb backwater hillbilly hicks, perhaps you should reserve your opinions of them until after the election. When applying for a job, maybe you shouldn't call the guy interviewing you a dumbass until after you've left the interview, even if he was in fact a dumbass.

I also disagree with the sentiment that Republicans are the only ones voting based on emotion. Did you not hear Democrats leading into, and post-election? They genuinely believe the end of the world was at stake. Republicans may have voted on the hope that Trump will be their savior, but Democrats voted on the fear that Trump would be their doom. Fear is just as much an irrational emotion as hope is.

To summarize because I feel like I probably didn't get my point across too clearly:

Forced on us as our candidate, completely disregarding democracy, proving once and for all the primaries are pointless and it's all rigged.

Blanket assumption that Democrats will vote Democrat regardless of candidate, their platform, or the way they run their campaign.

Complete disregard of their own base, in favor of flipping votes.

In addition to the last point, would rather fail to flip votes than work on getting any of the millions of non-voters involved.

Indecisive attitudes of "we are better than you, Republicans" but also "please vote for us, Republicans".

Scapegoating minorities not voting for them as why they didn't win, on top of just in general lacking understanding as to why they didn't win.

The entire DNC needs to be ripped up from the roots and replaced.

[hanafubukki]

Sometimes I think the Knight of Dawn gets criticized for his actions too much as if it’s entirely his fault for what happened. 🤔 (and you know, not Henrik, the other soldiers, the other countries, etc. fault too.)

(Yes, I am saying this knowing what’s coming in part 6 soon. Lol)

Don’t get me wrong, he is the one wielding the blade at the end of the day. But in general, I feel many often overlook his background and his actions.

He was taken in by the king. We don’t know what happened or what led to this. We don’t know why the fairies blessed him nor any info about his parents or even where he was born/taken from. We barely have any info about him as a person.

He was raised as a knight and he felt duty bound to not only the King who took him in but also to Princess Leia.

Which is used against him repeatedly by Henrik. He’s a knight and he has no choice but to obey the commands given to him even when he doesn’t agree with them.

But yet

At the first sign, when he’s free from those obligations/threats, KOD goes against all of that. When no one is watching. He does what he can in those moments. He does what he believes is right.

I think most often forget. We don’t all have the freedom/choice to rebel or go against powers higher in status/stronger than us no matter how much we want to.

Especially when loved ones are being held over our heads. In this way, even General Lilia couldn’t disobey Meleanor’s commands. Not only because he didn’t have the power to go against her but also because it was a command and he had to keep the eggleus safe.

Both of them had duties to fulfill that they could not refuse.

That’s why the little moments counts and did they count and have an everlasting effect even centuries later.

KOD could have taken Malleus away from Lilia. With Lilia’s injuries and even with Baul’s help, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against him.

If he was truly a coward and “evil,” he could have striked them down and used Malleus against Meleanor as well. Then Henrik would have had “two pets” to parade around.

But the Knight of Dawn didn’t allow any of that. He helped Lilia escape the rubble. He even recognized General Lilia for his reputation. He let him go.

He knew what was in store for Malleus if Malleus was taken. He didn’t want that to happen to him.

By letting Lilia go, Malleus was saved and born. Through these actions from KOD, Silver was also saved centuries later by the very faes KOD helped.

This cascaded later into allowing two faes, a human, and a half human-fae to eventually meet and form a deep bond.

Was going to keep these in the tags but then changed my mind because I think it’s true and should be said.

History is full of people who have rebelled loudly and proudly but it’s also filled with people who worked quietly.

This applies to both Lilia and KOD. They were both loud (the war) and quiet (hatching the egg, letting the faes escape) in their actions.

Sometimes, the smallest actions with even the quietest voices have a perpetual effect that’s just as powerful as the loudest voices and actions.

[irisbaggins]

This isn't going to be as in-depth as my other meta (I am too tired after Uni and thinking about different literary theories), but I've seen some folks point it out and wanted to add my own two cents:

From the way I view Evan's behaviour since the killing of Philtrum, I read it as him becoming defeatist towards his own nature. He truly believes he's a bad person, who doesn't deserve love nor happiness. He chafes against any assertion that he's loved or cherished, and he clashes with anyone attempting to assert that he's valuable and loved just the way he is. The only person who he doesn't outright clash with is Sam, and that is - I believe - only due to the fact he saw and experienced her emotions and feelings, and therefore cannot quite dispute them. With Jammer and K he can, because he doesn't have that insight into their true feelings. He can make assumptions, then, and run with that idea.

Why does this matter, then? Well, I've noticed how Evan pushes back against the three, and how it differs with each person. Because he does clash against all of them, just differently depending on the person. With Sam, he doesn't outright deny her claims, but it's clear he doesn't believe her fully. He just doesn't say it because it makes her sad and, after every kindness she's shown him, he doesn't think she deserves to feel like that. With Jammer, we've seen him either outright challenge him - how he's mentioned to Jammer's teammates and the lack of talking about his inherent magic - and we've seen him doubt and distrust Jammer's overt affection - not believing they're family, despite Jammer's insistence that they are. And with K, Evan has never truly believed himself worthy of love, but he doesn't quite understand that that's the issue K has with him, and therefore thinks K just wants to "change him" to fit their worldview (instead of being that K wants to "fix him" in terms of his self worth etc.).

Evan clashes with all of them, and I argue that it's because he doesn't see himself as worthy of their compassion. I would have to re-watch the first few episodes of the season to be sure, but I have the distinct feeling that Evan's refusal to believe in his friends' compassion started after killing B2, something he did without hesitation and without direct remorse. And I think that's the core issue, here. I believe that's why Evan is so adamant in his position, in his belief of his unworthiness, in his desire for power and control; he truly believes he became what he always feared, and he's both accepted this and is also denying it. He pretends everything's fine, yet he also cannot escape the feeling that he's doomed. He called himself heir to the evil house, something he's always denied. I think that alone is an insight into Evan's mindset; he thinks himself evil, which places him in direct opposition to his friends who he believes to be good.

I talked about K and control, and how they can - in their attempt to pretend - be hurtful in what they say. I argue the same is true with Evan, but instead of being directly self-sabotaging with his speech, he's doing it indirectly. He's placing himself as someone they shouldn't trust, and he himself might not be consciously aware of it. He's self-sabotaging, at least from the way I read his actions, especially in light of K's conversation with Tabby. He doesn't trust that the affection of others is genuine, and therefore will treat it as if it weren't. And he's only gotten worse, I think. Yes, he can throw out affection and "I love yous", but receiving them? He doesn't know how to handle that, and will either just go along with it quietly, or question it directly.

Evan's trapped within a negative feedback loop, and I think this is only heightened with his conflict with the Qohlye, and his conflict with him. Specifically, I'm thinking about the ways in which Evan refuses to actually understand why he was given the book, and why it's a horribly sad thing to happen to him. Not because the Qohlye thinks Evan is only meant for sadness, but because the Qohlye understands and knows that the book will only lead Evan to a darker place in a desperate attempt to keep control. The Qohlye is sad, I think, because he knows Evan will happily walk a path he himself doesn't want just to keep his friends close - something that will, in the end, only lead to great sadness. Just take his near sacrifice when saving K from death in the first season, or killing B2 in this season. Evan is a self-fulfilling prophecy, and the Qohlye sees this, and sees Evan refusing to attempt to understand it. That's the sad part, I think. That's where that grief comes from. It comes from seeing a bright and kind kid destroy themselves because of them believing themselves unworthy of love.

I could go on with this topic, but I think I'll end my rant for now by concluding with this: Evan hasn't acknowledged the demons directly since he discovered they had returned, and I am very worried with what's going to happen in the last two episodes. Especially with the references to "kill your dad" and all. Evan is such an interesting character to analyse, especially since he's such a flawed and complex character. Often, what I've noticed with him, is that it's what he doesn't say that leaves the most impact. And him not acknowledging his own emotions and his own fears regarding his nature is quite telling. Especially as he's positioned himself as a wizard killer. I'll probably write some more meta at a later date regarding him - as well as meta on K, Jammer, and Sam, as I find all of them so incredibly fascinating. But I shall end the post now before I fall asleep typing, because I am dead on my feet. So, if this post makes no sense, really sorry about that! Will probably refine it later when I'm dodging writing about my thesis.

Also, just wanted to add: If anyone has like, any points, disagreements, or just general thoughts about this post and my takes, I'm happy to hear them! I'm always up to hear what others think of my takes, especially if you disagree. It always fascinates me to hear what others think about characters and a story, so please do not hesitate to interact if you have your own two cents!

[saltnsugarbear]

Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 

so like on the low i ate this up

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)

side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)

come celebrate!

One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.

It made him like pushing your buttons even more.

So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.

Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.

And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.

"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."

"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.

"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.

"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.

Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."

You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.

"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.

"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.

You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.

You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"

"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.

With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.

Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.

Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.

Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.

"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."

"Fuck..." Lip mutters.

"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.

You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.

"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"

You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.

"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.

"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.

"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.

"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"

Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.

"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"

[starkasaaa]

omg I liked your last capitano fic so much🥹🥹 maybe you can do nsfw alphabet with him? thank you:3

Capitano smut alphabet:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At first, Capitano leans back against the pillow with a soft groan, trying to catch his ragged breath. His arms are tightly clasped around you, holding you close as he kisses the top of your head. He prefers to just lie quietly with you for a while, and then he’ll carry you to the shower. His favorite thing to do is sit with you in the warm water and gently lather your back with some sweet-smelling gel. He also loves it when you help him wash his hair, the feeling of your soft fingers sliding through his strands is so comfortable that he practically falls asleep every time you do it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The Captain is the type of man who loves absolutely everything about his woman, but if he had to choose one thing, it would be your tummy. He loves to put his head on your lap and bury his nose in your tummy after long missions. He also likes to run his big and cold fingers over your tummy, teasing you on purpose and not going lower, where you crave his touch the most. He loves when you impatiently grab his hand and put it between your legs, squeezing him tightly there.

In himself, Capitano loves his hands. They are big, strong, and can easily make your legs tremble in 2 minutes, and oh, there is nothing more pleasant for him than to first make you weak from his hands, and then carry you to the bathroom on those same hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Capitano is a very responsible man, he will not cum anywhere without your consent. If you want him to be in protection, he will definitely be, but to be honest, doing it inside satisfies him more, but don't worry, Captain is a man who will not run away from responsibility, so if you get pregnant from him, he will only be happy to become a father.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

He is not the type of man who will use girls for one night. He didn't have time to think about relationships before, so I dare to assume that he has no experience. Of course he had little intrigues with women, but it never came to sex.

He does not really know what he is doing, he just does what he thinks is right, closely watching your reaction to know whether things are going well or badly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Capitano is a pretty simple man, he prefers traditional positions like missionary. He likes to be in control, so being on top suits his nature. He likes to throw your leg over his shoulder to make the angle of penetration even deeper, or to gently hold your hands above your head so that you can't cover your embarrassed face or your mouth.

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

At first, he will be very serious. His main goal is to satisfy you. The first few times, he will be serious because of his own inexperience and fear of hurting you, but even as his experience increases, he will not become more relaxed. He is simply not used to showing much emotion, and you will have to talk to him about it, and then he will try to be less serious during this.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Capitano doesn’t see much need for daily shaving, and he doesn’t bother much about it. The hair on his partner's body is also not a problem for him, and if one day you suddenly tell him how tiring it is to shave every day, he will simply raise an eyebrow and look at you blankly.

"-…Then why are you doing it? I mean... Doesn't everyone have hair there..."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is not the most gentle person, but he tries very hard. Long years of training and battles made him a very closed person who is not used to taking off his tight facade in front of everyone, but he will try to learn to be more romantic. His care and love is more likely to be shown in actions than in words. For example, changing dirty bed linen after you make love, or helping you wash up+ changing you into clean clothes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He didn’t really do this before, since then any physical intimacy even with himself seemed to him to be something not particularly necessary. But then, as the relationship with you progressed, he realized that this is a pretty good way to relieve tension and it is generally pleasant. So, like any other man, he does it. He just never devotes you to the details of this. It happens that the longing for you during long missions becomes so aching that he has to touch himself, imagining that you are here with him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As I said. Capitano is a simple man, and he prefers to do it traditionally on the bed. He doesn’t really want to risk his status, and just the possibility of being caught in such a position doesn’t really pleasant to him, so doing it at home for him is the best solution.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You don't really have to do anything to get you going. Capitano is always hungry, but he won't admit it. He likes it better when you pull him into bed, because sometimes he finds himself getting turned on too often. It's not that it embarrasses him, it's more that it makes him think he's forcing you, but when you drag him into the bedroom yourself, it turns him on even more.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Something that involves pain. The Captain knows he's big and strong, and the thought of accidentally overdoing it and hurting you while doing it drives him crazy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

There's nothing more beautiful in the world than the nervous nibbling of your lip and the trembling of your thighs as his tongue deftly circles your sensitive bundle of nerves. The way your thighs squeeze his head between them makes his cock press hard against the fabric of his pants. He throws your leg over his shoulder as his fingers slide from your entrance between your labia, feeling like he could cum just from the look of you needing him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He'll go slow at first, giving you time to get used to the pace. Once you've more or less spread out around him, he'll go harder, but not faster. Capitano prefers sensual sex, trying to enjoy every moment with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers more full-on sex, with foreplay, a relaxed atmosphere, and the likelihood that he won't be disturbed. But if you're really needy, he won't mind doing it. If he wants it, the Captain will rather wait until you get home.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The Captain can go as long as he wants. He just never wants to burden you with it too much, so don't try to find out where his limit is. He'll be hungry for you forever.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's not really into this, but if you bring a toy into the house, he might be willing to try it. He'll probably like handcuffs to finally prevent you from covering your face and mouth during this.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Depends on the situation. Normally, he might be willing to stretch out your pleasure a bit, not letting you cum until he thinks you've asked him nicely enough. But if he's coming home from a long mission, there's no teasing. He's been waiting too long and he needs you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The Captain is quite reserved during this, and the only thing that comes out of his mouth is quiet groans. This is rather because he is not used to being emotional, so he needs time to stop holding it in.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It is quite big and thick. With a bright pink tip. (sorry, I don’t know what else to write here😭)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before, he didn’t feel any desire for sex at all, and probably the amount of excitement and desire that he feels now is all accumulated over those years when he didn’t experience it, well, or rather didn’t notice it. But now… He feels like a wild animal, especially after a long separation from you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

For Capitano, the most important thing is to make sure that you fall asleep first. He tries to make up for his taciturnity with actions. He will put a glass of water on your nightstand, fluff your pillow so that it is softer, and wrap you in a blanket. He will stroke your back and kiss your forehead until you fall asleep, and only then will he fall asleep himself.

[yaseraphine]

RANT ABOUT THERAPY AND WHY IT'S NOT MY CUP OF TEA 🤡

+ trying to guess the therapist's rising and our synastry and ranting about it cause I am tired man (and too sensitive lol)

Really messy post btw just a disclaimer lol

Just had my first therapist appointment since 2021 and what can I say....it was REALLY awkward. I don't know how people are able to spill their deepest traumas like that bro she just sat down and told me to talk 💀 like what I thought she would interview me or start the first appointment with pre-made questions to make a profile, regarding my background, family relationships,etc .. It was really messy and I was so confused throughout the whole thing.

I understand it's a privilege to afford therapy (it was 60euros for 45 minutes lol of course it is) but it is much more complex than just spilling your guts to a random with a degree.

Something about me is that I always thought i didn't really need therapy, no matter how painful a situation was for me. And it wasn't only therapy, it was also opening up to my own friends 💀 i could take care of myself like i always did anyways so whats the point of paying for it ? I understood people who needed it and felt helped by it. But it just wasn't for me. I have realizations on my own consistantly thanks to my self-awareness and trained and developped intuition.

What pushed me to go back to therapy even though i was , and still am, very skeptical in its effectiveness on me, is that this year, I realized asking for help won't actually kill me and that i have my limits as a human being.

I fear this appointment just unfortunately kind of validated my initial more negative feelings towards therapy and the idea that I don't really need it.

As a really introspective and painfully self-aware person who has a hard time asking for help (but is actively working on it), I really don't know what kind of therapy could help me, really. I know I probably have a few blind spots, but it's so out of my comfort zone to open up like that. I kind of hate it.

I want to keep an open mind, and probably try another therapist but damn if I don't f*ck with any, it just feels forced .. I trust divine timing for that because I don't really want to put myself in such a situation again.

Right now, I feel dirty knowing a random woman knows about my deepest traumas in a really messy and all over the place way. She has fragments of my soul, and despite me having somewhat giving my consent for it, it was too fast. Maybe it's my 8th house moon conjunct Lilith (1181) in Leo that is speaking but I feel literally violated. Strong words but this how uncomfortable it was for me.

Guessing the therapist's rising sign and ranting about 12th house synastry...

Random but I think the therapist in question had a Virgo or Leo rising... I already said it's the most common rising signs (especially virgo) and I am losing patience. We probably had a 12th house synastry that's why our exchange was really weird and scattered. She kept on making weird faces while I was talking telling me she didn't understand what I was trying to say.... I know it all too well because EVERY single person I knew or had interacted with that had a leo rising, my interactions with them were like this. I was saying stuff and it felt like it went in one ear and got out in the other. Like they could hear me but not listen and understand what i was trying to say. This kind of reminds me of Willy Wonka's relationship with Mike TV or wth his name is, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Tim Burton's movie. Wonka always said stuff to him whenever he opened his mouth like "I cannot hear a single thing you say because you're speaking gibberish"or whatever. (Me being Mike TV and Leo risings being Willy Wonka).

This is how every single one of my interactions with Leo risings went, no matter their gender or age. It was always like that.

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

Limitations

Randall Kirkland x Fem!Reader

Masterlist🩷

Summary: Randall plays on your competitive nature. How far will he take it? How far will you let him?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, DubCon, manipulation, breeding, choking, gagging, swearing, mentions of violence and murder, fem!reader, romantic smut, aftercare

A/N: Finally!!! It is time!! I know y'all have been itching for this new Randall fic, I’ve been grinding hard on this, I hope it doesn’t disappoint. I love y'all! I love Randall!!! Thank you all so so much for your support! It truly means the world to me and motivates me to do better every day and put out more fics! As always, I’m open to comments, questions, requests, etc. or if you ever just want to reach out, say, "Hey", and chat, I am all for it!! *kisses*

W/C: 9.2k

You didn’t want to walk past the bus this morning. Every time you did, you felt his eyes on you. You could feel them traipse across your skin, observing your every curve, how you walked, the way your hips swayed, and how your hair bounced behind you as you walked. You had gotten used to the town, as used to it as someone could get, you supposed. But you never could bring yourself to come to terms with your feelings, feelings you weren’t sure how to address, or what to even call them. Was it envy, lust, longing? You’ve never even spoken to him, but you felt his eyes bore into you every morning as you walked past to the diner.

Some days, you wondered what would happen if you stopped to speak with him. What would you say? Every morning you saw him from your peripheral vision as he turned his head to follow your path. Wanting to look back, but eyes still looking straight ahead. You never looked back, unsure of what you'd see, what you wanted to see. The one and only person you thought you had figured out, but too scared to be direct or approach. You stole a few glances at times at the diner or by the farm. You often remarked at how handsome he was, shying away from those lustful thoughts, but always going back to them once it got dark and you were alone.

You kept to yourself most days, only chatting with folks in passing at the diner and steering far from colony house. You had heard stories, and gossip passed through tight lips from person to person. You were not one to indulge but still remained vigilant with an ear to listen. Randall, the guy they kicked out and forced to live on the bus. Some say he threatened Donna. Some say he held people at gunpoint. Nothing surprising, nothing you probably wouldn’t do yourself given the chance. This place had a way of messing with people, getting into their heads, making people mad in every sense of the word. Some days, you didn’t know if what you were seeing was real, and were unsure if anyone else had similar experiences but kept to yourself all the same due to your own distrust in others.

Day in and day out, you felt defeated, not sure if you were even really alive. You walked through the day in a slump, wondering if anything is real, if this was real or if it was a dream… and what of the life you knew before. Was that the dream? You had gone numb, wracking your mind over the details and inconsistencies of the day-to-day happenings. Not wanting to die, not willing to, but not sure if you would or if that even meant anything anymore. Was this what death was? Did we all die in car crashes and this is our fucked-up purgatory? What is survival, really? In this situation, it was hard to define.

That’s why you found yourself thinking of Randall often, yet too shy or scared to approach him, only in your mind's eye did he linger. Not knowing what he’s thinking or going through personally. You were remiss to your thoughts and thoughts alone. They drove you to the edge of delirium nightly. Clutching your pillow over your face, screaming to drown out the sounds of the creatures that knocked upon your windows and doors. Always trying to find a way in, slowly waiting, watching. You felt helpless and alone often escaping in the thought of his touch, how his hands would feel on your skin, how soft his lips must feel, how they’d taste. It was the last piece of sanity you could hold onto every night before the nightmare became too close of a reality. Instead, you fantasized about Randall and turned it into a dream.

You reluctantly headed out the door later than usual today, unwilling to brood between four walls. You threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading out the door and to the diner. Before arriving, you could hear commotion in the distance. There was a group of people standing near the entrance of the diner arguing about supplies and food. The crowd seemed rowdy and questionable.

You stopped at the edge of where the bus stood with its tires shot out a safe distance away, watching as the township fought and argued. You scoffed and sneered. Tired of how the people ran things here, tired of the rules in a place with no natural law. It was ridiculous to you, a noble effort that just somehow still wasn’t enough. People are still being killed, people are still lost, there’s no escaping and they’re fighting over supplies. Your eyes rolled so hard you felt the nerves stretch behind your eye socket causing a slight headache.

“Ugh”, you audibly spoke. “My sentiments exactly” a voice said from beside you. You shuddered at the sound of the voice, deep and gravelly. You quickly looked up realizing Randall had stepped off the bus and stood next to you. Suddenly you found your lungs had tightened in your chest lifting a lump into your throat leaving you unable to speak or even breath for a moment. You observed his expression, aloof yet fixed and focused. You could see behind his eyes, a darkness softened by disappointment and fear. His eyes looked on toward the diner as he snickered.

“Can you believe what they’re doing? Rationing food now?” He spoke again. You watched as his mouth moved when he spoke, how his lips curled over his teeth, how his dark rimmed mossy green eyes flickered with speech. His hands gesturing toward the diner, looked rough and abrasive, covered in veins that crawled up his forearms and disappeared under his flannel shirt. He was so remarkably handsome you thought to yourself, blushing at the thoughts that began to fill your head once more.

You found yourself trying to respond, to think of something to say. His stature alone was intimidating, he towered over you leaning against the bus with his arms crossed looking at you under a furrowed brow. Those eyes, burning you. You could feel his gaze wash over you like molten lava. You could feel heat begin brimming to your cheeks as your whole body went flush and mind blank.

“Someone should do something” was all you could manage to say. You spoke angrily and out of frustration in a mere whisper, but truly you thought, someone really should do something, anything, literally anything. Randall’s eyes remained fixed on you as you looked onward towards the diner, your attention caught by louder yelling.

You watched as Boyd broke up the crowd, unable to hear what was being said but seeing his arms wave side to side palms down as if it would calm anyone. The crowd murmured as they dispersed, sharing looks of shame and frustration with one another. “Come on” Randall said reaching for your hand. It was soft, warm, and completely swallowed yours within his grip. “What are you doing?” you questioned. The crowd had already broken and cleared out at this point. “We’re going to do something about it” he whispered in a hushed voice. He pulled you with him towards the back side of the diner, you followed effortlessly. His confidence surged through his grip onto your palm. Kinetic energy leaking from his skin to yours, exhilarating your senses and emboldening your mood. Finally, someone with an assertive nature, you thought.

Randall kept eyes on Boyd and the few that lingered as he led you to the backside of the diner, peeking around the corner as he did. You both watched as Boyd, Donna, and a few others left towards the sheriff station. Slowly disappearing into the distance. You felt his hand reach past your waist and brush against your t-shirt lifting it slightly allowing a draft of cold air to touch your skin. You shuddered at the feeling of his forearm sweeping against you, only for a second. He was warm, his skin, so soft.

He had reached across to open the door you stood next to. He then smirked and said “after you” outstretching his hand, guiding you into the diner's kitchen. You nodded taking the lead but not fully sure what you were doing there. Upon entering the kitchen, you noticed it’s disarray. There were various dishes, cans, and boxes, strewn about and stacked high. The town’s folk had tried to gather and take what they could, anything they could get their hands on. Perhaps a few even got to take some home, but this was what was left.

Several jars of canned goods, boxed goods, spices, and various pickled fruits and veggies. You imagined the work it took to prep all this who had done it and how long it must have taken. You slide the boxes over with your foot that were haphazardly stacked near the door where Randall entered behind you. He slid past you reaching for an empty box and began filling it with items of his own personal preference. “Grab what you can carry and whatever else you want; we’ll take it over to your place” he said firmly in a curt almost whisper.

You looked on as your mind fought with itself. You hadn’t expected this, to take things for yourself. The idea of it, however much you rationalized it, agreed with it and wanted to, still felt wrong. A tinge of guilt swept over you. Randall, who had his back turned, had turned to face you. Seeing your apprehension he spoke. “Thought you wanted to do something about it?” He said playfully jesting toward you with his elbow, easing your tension a bit. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t want to do it, you did, it’s more that you were afraid of being caught, what would happen then? What would they do?

Truly you thought you didn’t really care for anybody in this town, you didn’t know them on any personal level, you weren’t even sure if they were truly who they said they were. Everyone was out for themselves at this point, proven this morning as you approached the diner and seeing the rowdy crowd, and now, looking around the kitchen and seeing boxes strewn about and the mess they had left behind in their haste. They were all fending for themselves why shouldn’t you?

Randall had set his box down with a thunk as the box hit the table. You could hear the clinks of the cans and jars that rustled within. The bulk of his content being canned meats and veggies, various soups, stocks and spices. He had grabbed a box handing it to you. “Here. If we’re going to survive, we have to beat them to it. You saw them out there, they just didn’t get away with it” a mischievous smile crept across your lips. After all, you did say something should be done.

He met your smile with one of his own, a devilish grin widened at the corners of his lips and his eyes narrowed “atta girl! Almost didn’t think you had it in you” he chuckled as he turned and proceeded to fill his box. Your cheeks flushed immediately, a balmy heat filling your face. A mixture of feelings brimmed at that sentiment. You tried dissecting your emotions while grabbing items from the shelves. What had he thought of you? You hadn’t thought of that until just now. What did Randall think of you, about you? Did he think you meek and mousey? You supposed you could be perceived that way but truly you were bold, you were passionate, stubborn, and would never back down from a challenge, especially if someone thought you couldn’t or wouldn’t.

What did he mean he didn’t think you had it in you? Sure, you hesitated, but only for a moment. But him saying “atta girl” almost made it all ok. You wanted him to say more, to give you that praise, to give you the attention you hadn’t realized until now, you were so starved for. His voice penetrated your psyche in an undefined pleasurable way. You felt the urge to show him who you really were, after all, he didn’t know anything about you sans what he could observe in passing. You had never held a conversation with him prior to today. You surmised that maybe others spoke about you and he had heard. You didn’t doubt it, it's how you heard about him.

What had you heard about him that wasn’t true or was a misrepresented truth in some way. You wanted to know more about him. You always had but fear held you back. What an opportunity today had presented you with. He was the only person in this place that intrigued you, the only person you felt you could possibly relate to, the only person who seemed… real.

Randall had stopped grabbing things, remarking about his full box being a good haul then turning his attention to you as you continued meticulously picking things out. You could feel that familiar feeling, the one you felt every morning as you passed by the bus at first light. His eyes were on you. You could feel them wander your curves as you bent over to look at a lower shelf or kneeled to grab something. His eyes laid upon you like a soft touch, caressing every inch with his vision.

The feelings you had fought every morning quickly presented themselves at the forefront of your mind once again. Today, you let them flourish, examining them closely. Today you would find out what it was you felt. You could feel your body tremble at the thought of him touching you. Your hands shook grabbing items as lustful thoughts overtook your brain making your focus almost nonexistent.

You found yourself easing into his gaze. Calculating your movements to emphasize your body for his view, arching your back, bending your knees. You reached for a high shelf, an item perched just out of your reach. You looked over your shoulder peeking through strands of hair that fell about your face, meeting his smoldering gaze. He was leaned against the counter, arms crossed with one leg crossed over the other. He nonchalantly stood, walking towards you. You tried reaching once more, inching on your feet when you felt his presence behind you.

The space between your bodies was warm and quickly got warmer. An arm outstretched, reaching over your head and grabbing the can from the top shelf you had been reaching for. You could feel the flannel from his shirt brush against your arm. You turned to thank him, falling back onto your heels and looking up. He stood so close to you still, you could smell his clothes, a mix of ozonic and possibly leather. Perhaps from sleeping on the bus you pondered. It was hypnotic.

He took another step closer, enclosing the space between you. A lump lifted into your chest as your breathing hitched. You met his eyes, darkened by the shadows within the room, his face only lit from the bit of daylight that streamed in from the dining area and small back window. You observed his face, lamenting internally how beautiful he was, how soft his features were. His angled jaw, cheek bones, and dimpled chin catching light and emphasizing some of his most beautiful features. The kindness you could see in his face behind his brooding exterior. There was a layer deeper you couldn’t see but feel.

The air in the room felt thicker, harder to breath. You could feel each breath you took as it lifted your chest to meet his sternum, pressing firmly against him. He looked down at you with a sly smile “is this what you wanted?” He spoke in a low raspy tone. You looked down seeing the can in his hand. “Mhmm. Thank you” you said shaking your head in affirmation and looking into his eyes. He smiled coyly and handed you the can. With his other arm, he grabbed your shoulder and ran his fingers down your arm gently, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “We should probably hurry up and get out of here, so we don’t get caught too”.

However true his words were, it was the farthest thought from your mind. All you could think about was how his breath felt on your ear, how each syllable danced across your skin ever so gently, cascading down your neck. How his hand felt on your shoulder. How firm his grip was, how the sensation of his fingertips still lingered upon your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. You all but melted at the slightest of touch. An ache deep within your core, a feeling so intense it couldn’t be ignored. However, he was right. It was best to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.

Earlier, he had said that he would bring the items with you to your place. Your mind raced at the possibilities. You tried to quell those thoughts; they ran rampant within the confines of your mind. Playing out scenes of all the different ways you wanted him, the things you wanted to do to him. You felt your heart race within your chest, your palms got clammy and for once in your time here in the township, fear wasn’t at the forefront of your mind.

You nodded in agreement as he stepped aside allowing you space to finish grabbing what you needed. You had found the last item that you topped your box off with before setting it down. A can of fruit medley with extra cherries you found hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “Ready?” He asked standing from his aloof leaning position he watched you from. “Let's go!” You whispered excitedly. You grabbed your box when Randall reached out “I got it” he said matter of factly, stacking your box on top of his and carrying them both. “Just keep an eye out, yeah?” He gestured nodding his head toward the door. “Of course,” you agreed.

You slowly open the door peeking around the corner looking for any signs of activity or prying eyes. Everything looked clear, you motioned with a wave of your hand to Randall indicating it was safe. You both carefully made your way back to your place in the township. You opted to stick to the tree line, hoping that no one would see you as you quickly made your way home. It must have only been a couple blocks away, but the feeling of excitement and the thrill of the entire situation had you giddy. You felt as if you floated home.

You must have spent more time at the diner than you realized. You are very fortunate, you thought, that no one came back and caught you and Randall. Would they put you in a cell at the sheriff’s station for a night or would they put you in the box? A fleeting thought. For it did not matter, no one did catch you, and you made it to your home safely just before dark.

You scrambled to open the door and let Randall inside as quickly and unnoticeably as possible. Still worried someone would see, but knowing it was unlikely an issue as most were probably already inside as that familiar nightly bell began to ring in the distance.

He had carried those two boxes the entire way, and the fact that he even offered was so kind and gentlemanly. You felt that the things people have said about him and the way they felt about him were wrong, that maybe they didn’t give him a chance. He was actually very sweet, albeit intimidating for sure. But that didn’t scare you, it only furthered your curiosity.

You regretted not taking the time to approach him sooner instead of waiting for him to approach you on a chance encounter. However it may have happened, you were thankful that it eventually did. If anything, just having him around and being in his presence made you feel less alone, less afraid. As a matter of fact, for most of your time here you weren’t sure you were even alive. But with him, this is the most alive you've ever felt since you’ve been here.

Such a simple act, a small way to fight back and to resist. He made you feel exhilarated and validated. In the short time you had spent together, you already felt like you wanted him around more. It wasn’t just the lust, even though those thoughts danced freely beneath the surface, but you felt a kind of connection with him.

It was unexplainable, maybe irrational even, you couldn’t explain it except for that you felt wanted in his presence, accepted. Something you had yet to feel here. It only drew you to him further. There were sudden realizations of unspoken truths between you two. One, you knew he wanted you; you had already known, you supposed for some time. Only now was it clear. Two, he knew you knew. And three, you wanted him as well.

He rushed past you as you pushed the door closed behind him while checking that the talisman was secure. Randall entered your home, setting the boxes upon the table just within the opening to the dining room area, then immediately returned his attention back to you. You went to move but felt locked in his gaze. You watched helplessly as he walked towards you, each step inching closer.

You turned to speak. You had a question still burning within you, you sought clarification from his snide commentary from earlier. “What did you mean by you didn’t think I had it in me?” You asked pointedly. You were curious. “Huh?” Randall spoke, stopping mid step halfway to where you stood. He paused to think for a moment. “I didn’t peg you for defiance” he mocked. “But I guess for a second, I thought you might’ve been like the others. Self-righteous, goody two shoes…” he trailed off as he began to move closer once more.

“But I guess I was wrong. You don’t back down from anything do you?” He said playfully looking down at you as the space between you became less, once more pushing himself against you. “Unh uh” you murmured with broken speech as you shook your head from side to side. So, he does see you? You thought. You went to move away when his hand grasped yours bringing your attention right back to him. You froze staring into his eyes as he spoke, trying to hear his words but being so distracted by him, it became difficult to decipher the meaning and context of what he said.

“My turn to ask a question” he said grasping both of your hands within his, gently rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands from your knuckles to your wrists in slow circles. You nodded unable to speak, awaiting his question. What could he possibly ask? You would tell him anything. In this moment he held you prisoner, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. He held a gravity within his core so powerful you couldn’t help but be pulled in.

“Why don’t you ever look back?” He whispered. “What are you afraid of?” He spoke once more looking into your eyes examiningly. A loaded question for sure, the duality of the question alone knowing where you were, seemed almost oxymoronic. However, you knew what he meant. It wasn’t about this place; it was about you. You, yourself hadn’t truly come to terms with it, not knowing your own reasoning for why you never did. He leaned in slightly further, putting literal pressure on you. You fought hard internally to answer but felt it impossible. How could you focus when he stood so close to you. Your mind felt like mush, processing thoughts became the hardest of chores. Why must he put you on the spot like this? You thought.

“I-I don’t know” you muttered, still searching for an answer. “Were you scared of me? What people say?” He said leaning in closer. “Hell no!” You snapped back. “You’re the only person around here I actually think is real!” You replied without thinking. “It's okay.” He spoke softly, reaching his hand to grab a lock of hair from atop your shoulder, twirling it in his fingers as he spoke. You were now flat against the wall in the hallway near the dining room where he had you pinned. “I know you watch me too” he said as he leaned in to whisper in your ear once more. Your chest heaved as you inhaled deeply. Your mind raced as your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Had he seen you watching him at the farm on occasion, or at the diner? You suppose that obviously he had for him to mention that, but there’s no way he can know how you truly felt. The things you thought about him on a nightly basis when you were alone in your bed. The things you had imagined him doing to you as you gingerly slipped your hand beneath the waistband of your underwear to drown out the screaming outside with your own. Would he blush? He was so confident, so sure of himself. You wondered.

The familiar nightly rapping began at your doors as the creatures descended from the woods. Randall would be staying with you tonight. A fleeting thought so glaringly obvious yet it needed its own space and attention for you to acknowledge before it left once more, leaving a feeling of excitement and joy behind.

The noise had broken your concentration on each other as you both looked towards the direction of the sound. The voices murmured beyond the space of your home. No doubt saying the same things they did nightly, although tonight you had a feeling that they wouldn’t be much of a bother to you. Randall had a way of holding your attention, and he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Randall returned his attention to you once more. “Looks like I’ll have to stay here tonight” he said confidently with a smirk that crept across his lips, lifting on one side. “Is there somewhere we can go in here where we won't be bothered by...” he trailed off as he gestured toward the door. “Yeah” you said clearing your throat. “Follow me”.

You led him to the bedroom upstairs. It provided some solace from the noise but it wasn’t completely unavoidable. It was the only bedroom in the house and the only space furthest from the door's downstairs. "We can sit here”, you motioned to the bed as you sat upon its edge. He followed you through the door sitting right next to you on the bed. The pressure from his weight on the bed caused you to lean into him, once again pulled by his gravity. You let yourself slip closer, blaming the motions of the mattress as it flexed. You wanted so badly to just melt into him, for him to hold you, and for you to lay your head upon his chest. He felt so close yet so far.

You crossed your legs and turned to face him. Looking up at him behind locks of brown waves that fell in front of your face. You motioned to move them, brushing them behind your ear giving him your full attention. He was facing you as well as you searched to find the words to speak. “You don’t even know my name” you said suddenly. A thought that never surfaced but only came straight out without a filter. Without You acknowledging it or accepting it. But you were right, you didn’t even think he knew your name or much else about you.

“Y/n” he spoke defiantly. “Everyone knows everything about everyone around here, or at least they like to think they do. But yes, I do know your name y/n. I probably know a lot more about you than you think. I can tell a lot about a person just by watching them. Let’s call it a newly developed skill since living on the bus, I’ve become very observant. I also know that you know me, or are aware of me and for sure know my name considering the way word travels around here” he said cheekily while letting his eyes wander your body in earnest. A dimly lit room where you were closer to him than ever. He took his time looking at every aspect of you as if you were under a microscope.

“I'm not afraid of you”. You spoke. “Yeah, I hear what other people say, but I don’t know them and I don’t trust them. I don’t think I ever will. The only thing that frightens me, is this place. But I’ll be damned if I just sit around and do nothing. If anything, those people had the right idea! No one here is safe, it's all security theatre! We might as well just fend for ourselves. Whatever Boyd is doing, is clearly not working.”

You felt as if you could speak safely and openly with Randall. You quickly discovered that you really enjoyed his presence, perhaps it was just from being alone for so long but you truly felt connected to him in some way, you didn't know why and you didn’t really try to figure that out. For now, it was beyond your comprehension and you just found yourself going with the flow. You reminded yourself that this is probably the first time in a long time that you felt anything other than dread.

“I see” he said. “Sounds like you’re just as tired of this place and the people here as I am.” He spoke once more. “But I bet you wouldn’t do what needed to be done if it were too much. Even to just forget for a while” he jested. “What makes you think I wouldn’t? what gives you that impression?” You asked looking directly into his eyes. You truly wanted an answer. Did he think this was some kind of game? Of course, you would do what needed to be done in any respect or in any manner. Whether it be to forget for a night or to save everyone or anything in between. You scoffed once more at his sentiment; it was almost funny to you as much as it was slightly insulting. He continued teasing you in this way, little did he know, you liked it. He probably did know.

“I don’t know. I look at you and I see someone with good intentions who wants to do what it takes or what is needed but beneath the surface I feel like, you’re too good, too timid, and too shy. Not that that is at all a bad thing, it’s hard to find someone with a heart as good as yours in a place as terrible as this.” You sat there, mouth agape, remarking at his words. Sure, there was some truth to it but you felt the same could apply to him. You could see he put off this hard exterior shell, but in reality, beneath the surface he was scared like the rest of us and hated to be alone. His rough demeanor was only a way to hide that. You saw right through it. However, there he went again thinking you were someone who wasn’t capable or brave enough. Whether he truly though that or not, you would show him.

“You think so?” You retorted deviously. You could feel the tension in the room as a thickness once again lifted in the air. The room felt hot and the air felt heavy. A surge of heat rushed to your core and you shivered slightly. Randall reached a hand out, placing it gently on your thigh and began tracing his fingers lightly from your knee to your hip, then grabbing your leg and pulling you closer to him.

The screams outside got louder as they approached and then moved on catching your attention, and drawing your eyes from him once more. You felt his hand lift from your thigh to your face, directing your gaze back to him. "I can help you tonight, and you could help me”. He whispered, his face was soft, he seemed genuine as he caressed your cheek, watching and waiting for your reaction. You looked on, eye brows raised. You knew he could. In fact, you so badly wanted him to. This was just all happening so fast and your mind warbled trying to play catch up from the whiplash of a day you've had. The actions of the day swirling within your mind, unable to grasp at any single particular thought. “But I bet you won’t”. He said with a sly smile in a toying manner.

His words spilled out of his mouth in a cascade of sarcasm. Thought he knew you, you thought, laughing internally. He definitely did and he was using a weakness he had figured out in his favor. Perhaps there were good intentions behind his teasing, you found yourself not caring. He had just unknowingly awoken an animal within you that had been asleep for so long. A primal urge washed over you as you rose to the occasion. He wanted to help you forget? Oh no, you would be helping him tonight! If you were anything, you sure as hell were not a coward. Your eyes narrowed as a calculating smile swept across your lips. You fixed your gaze upon him, examining him. What is it he should want you to do? You could think of a couple things.

You stood letting his hand slide from your thigh as you rose. His eyes followed you with that smirk still lingering on his lips. You stepped in front of him, nudging your legs between his knees, spreading them apart as you leaned in closer. Placing a hand atop each knee and kneeling further in until you were eye level with him. “In what way would you want me to help you tonight, Randall?” you smiled innocently, mere inches from his face. You looked him up and down, stopping at his lips then meeting his eyes again. Shrugging your shoulders as if still waiting for his reply. You felt the muscles beneath your hands tense as his smile softened.

Randall slid one hand from your shoulder, up to your neck, stopping to caress your cheek. His eyes darted from yours to your lips before his hand slid gingerly behind your head to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You lifted your hands from his knees and placed them around his neck as his lips met yours in a fiery lock of passion. You immediately raised your knees on either side of his legs, straddling him and enveloping yourself into his kiss. Your heads tossing back and forth as you breathed sharply through your nose. His tongue heartily exploring your mouth. You pulled his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it before biting his soft pillowy lips and returning to the kiss with fervor.

Soft moans escaped your lips with every breath you took between kisses. You ran your hand over his chest feeling every curve and definition of his build as he used both hands to pull you closer onto him. Grasping your backside, a cheek squeezed in each hand tightly. You slid a hand under his flannel and he quickly shrugged it off, returning his attention to you. You were so enveloped in the feeling of him touching you. How long it had been you've waited for this, and how nice it felt. Your nightly fantasies becoming reality. You almost forgot what led you here, you didn’t care. In this moment you were engulfed in Randall, and it was the most content you’ve felt.

Randall wrapped his fingers in your hair, holding you to him as he feverishly attacked you with kisses of passion. Heavy breathing, teeth clanking, sloppy, messy, fucking fantastic. You had been slowly grinding on him as you continued kissing him. Moving your hips gently forward and back. You could feel his breath quicken as he began guiding you with his hands. Still grasping your backside, pushing and pulling you harder onto him. You could feel the wetness pool in your panties as you felt his manhood throbbing near his thigh. Only brushing against it slightly. You could feel Randall suck air through his teeth in a hiss as you continued to grind onto his length with his help.

He quickly tightened his grip, flipping you over onto the bed and standing in front of you. You took the free moment to remove your shirt, pulling it over your head, letting your hair cascade onto your bare shoulders, back, and chest. He remarked at your breasts for a moment before fumbling to kick off his shoes and undo his pants. You quickly reached out to stop him. “Let me help” you said in the same playfully teasing manner he had done so earlier. He grinned and put his hands up. “You’re right.” He said then gestured “please”.

You chuckled lightly as you got down from the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of him. You looked up at him as you undid his belt. He looked on approvingly, watching as you disrobed him. The outline of his length against his pants was prominent. You rushed to pull his jeans down, then his boxers, revealing his manhood. It snapped up with force. It was quite substantial in length as well as girth, it throbbed a bruised red, glistening at the tip. You felt your core ache and your mouth water.

You grasped him at the base, taking hold of him while looking up at him. You wanted to see his face when you took him in. How smug would he be then? His face still carried that sly smile as if he thought he was in control. You gently licked the precum from his tip, eliciting a slight grunt from him as he reeled at the heat of your mouth upon him. How easy it was to break him you thought.

You continued looking up at him as you danced your tongue along his frenulum, encircling it with your tongue before slightly sucking just the tip and stopping to see his reaction. He moved to lift up his shirt, you slid your hand underneath the space he provided. You traced the veins that wound their way along his v line. His skin was so soft, yet firm. His build was so athletic and toned. Touching him made you dizzy, he was just so perfect, and tonight, you’d make him whimper.

He looked down at you, locking eyes as you opened your mouth taking him in fully. Doing your best to relax your throat and accept him, taking him in as deeply as he could go until your nose hit his mound. You could feel his hands quickly grasp your head, gathering your hair into a ponytail, held by his hands. He immediately moved to hold you there. Your hands pressed against each thigh on either side as you fought to hold your breath while your throat hitched and lurched, gagging on him. Saliva began leaking out from both corners of your lips as your face turned red and spots began to fill your vision. Tears streaming down your cheeks.

Just then he let you go, pulling you back before he could bust. You breathed in deeply, catching your breath, as he held your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks between his grip, pouting your lips. “So, fucking beautiful” he said between gritted teeth before returning his grip to your hair, gathering it in one fistful and holding his shirt up with the other. Before you finish catching your breath, your mouth was on him once again. Sliding his length in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat every time. You forced yourself to take him all in every time, to gag on him. You could feel his cock spasm, leaking a salty precum. Each time you felt it, a gasp would escape his lips.

He took a moment, letting go of your hair to take his shirt off before returning his grip to your head. He met each motion of your mouth with thrusts of his own as he threw his head back in ecstasy. Faint moans escaped his lips each time you took him in fully. You watched as he looked back down, his mouth open, gritting his teeth with each inhale. His eyes looked on innocently, pupils enlarged, eyebrows raised, meeting in the middle as he continued between watching you and rolling his head back. His thrusts quickened as he grabbed each side of your face before pulling you away.

You looked up at him with glistening puffy lips, wiping at the corners of your mouth as he pulled you up, meeting you with a sloppy breathy kiss. Your breasts pressed firmly against his sternum, he reached down to squeeze and paw at them with one hand as he held you close at the small of your back with the other. Your tongues glided against each other, swirling in and out of your mouths until his hands firmly pushed you back onto the bed. His face hardened once more with that smirk that he held when he was confident, when he had control.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as he gently yet forcefully undid your jeans and pulled them off of you before sliding his own off, kicking them onto the floor next to him followed by his boxers. He then gently placed a finger from each hand under the waistband of your panties. Slowly he wiggled them off of you, revealing you fully to him. You lifted yourself slightly so that he could pull them off. He carelessly tossed them aside before leaning down to kiss you once more. The cold air down below sent shivers up your spine, but warmth quickly brushed up against you and you felt yourself buck into him almost instinctively.

Your back arched as he slowly peppered kisses on his way down. Starting from your neck leading down your collarbones to your chest where he paid particular attention to your breasts giving them the full attention they deserved. He squeezed them tightly while lightly flicking his tongue over your nipple. The cold breeze from his breath intensifying the pleasure. You could feel your breath hitch once more, you ached for him, needed so badly for him to be inside you. You could feel yourself dripping for him the anticipation killing you mentally and physically.

He continued on kissing down your abdomen, laying a kiss on your belly button, kissing each hip before following it down to your mound where he gently nipped at you. You gasped at the feeling as he slid both hands under each side of each thigh, pulling you towards his face. You felt your breathing quicken as his face slowly disappeared behind your mound. Only his eyes left peeking over watching your every reaction as he slowly licked you from top to bottom. Licking up every drop of your slick. You tried hard to focus on him, the feeling of the pleasure. Your head snapped back as his tongue pressed inside you. Tasting you fully.

You let out a cry, the feeling of his tongue moving in and out of you, driving you to the brink of no return. You grabbed his head with both hands pulling him closer to you grinding into his face. He pulls away, replacing his tongue with two fingers and quickly moving his lips to your throbbing clit. He began working his fingers in and out of you as he flicked your clit gingerly with his tongue, sucking it gently between his lips. You bucked into his grip. You could feel his mouth form a smile on you as you tried so hard to grind on him, pulling his face into you once more. He continued on, fucking you even harder with his fingers, you threw your head back once again, moaning loudly in ecstasy. You felt as if you were about to explode you tried to close your legs but he used both hands to forcefully push them back open and hold them there while continuing to suck your clit furiously. He watched as your face contorted nearing your end.

Before you could feel yourself approaching your climax, he pulled his face away, hopping up onto his knees and pushing them between your legs, spreading them open and pushing himself against you. You look up at him pleadingly as his eyes hungrily wander your body. He takes his hands grabbing a top of each side of your hip, pulling you up to him and onto his thighs where he kneeled on the bed. His cock perched right at your entrance. His thumb encircled your clit, another soft moan escaping your lips. He laid you back down flat as he moved in to kiss you once more. Slowly tracing along your tongue with his, allowing you to taste yourself on him.

You once again felt him press against your entrance. Your body defied you, it was eager to know what he felt like. It bucked against him autonomously of its own accord and own volition. Not that your mind didn’t agree, it just wasn’t fast enough to keep up with your primal urge to be bred by this man. As if sensing your eagerness, he lifted one of your legs to your chest and leaned against it slowly pushing himself into you. “Fuuuck” he said in a low growl as he pushed the tip in, forcing himself in the rest of the way. You clenched around him as he slid inside if you, filling you completely. As tight as you were, he slid in so easily because of how insanely wet he made you. You looked deeply into his eyes as he lay his forehead upon yours. Your eyes, staring at him in a pleadingly innocent manner, almost as if you were ready to beg. His expression was fixed, stern, and focused. He looked so fucking sexy you thought. Buried deep inside you. “Randall, fuck!” You moaned in his ear in a strain watching as he pushed himself to the hilt within you.

You watched as his face slightly contorted with each thrust, how his lips thinned, and his jaw tightened. How every muscle in his body tensed, squeezing himself tightly against you. Each push was met with a moan from you, and a grunt from him as he picked up his pace. His length fully filling you with each push, bringing you so close to coming once again. The curve of his cock hitting your G-spot with each upward thrust, your body quivered and your legs shook beneath him.

“Feels so fucking good inside me!” You cried. “So fucking deep!” You moaned once more, arching your back and meeting each thrust of his with your own. He watched how you reacted and when he thought you were really enjoying yourself, he continued those actions. He didn’t lie, he was very observant. You put your leg down and crossed them both behind his back, pulling him to you closer as he continued pounding into you, throwing your head back into the comforter that lay halfway on the bed beneath you.

His thrusts grew more aggressive as he panted above you, resting his hand upon your throat to steady himself, squeezing slightly. He slowed, slipping out of you and rising up as you whimpered. With one hand he gently tapped your side, motioning for you to turn over. You climbed onto your knees in front of him. You were postured on all fours spread open for him. He slid his hand down your back, pushing you down onto the mattress, laying your chest flush against the now messy sheets and blankets. The comforter now laid on the floor in a pile of puffy fabric.

His hands gripped both sides of your hips as he crept closer to you on the bed, kneeling just behind you as you lay with your face buried, and your ass in the air. He swung his hand back and slapped your ass cheek with enough force it echoed with a ‘crack’ in the room and for sure left a red print of his hand. You jumped, yelping in surprise. He quickly rubbed the spot he had slapped, caressing the hot stinging flesh he left behind.

His length pressed firmly against your opening. With his thumbs he grasped each cheek, spreading you open for him as he pushed himself inside once more. He felt even deeper now, you cried into the sheets as you turned your head to look back at him. He continued holding onto your hips, digging his hands into the crease between your thighs and your waist. His fingers rested just beyond your bikini line as they applied pressure, pulling you toward him. "You're such a good girl” He began fucking you furiously, each thrust with the sound of a slap. You liked it when he was rough with you.

You locked eyes with him, “use me” was all you could muster to say in your breathlessness. His eyes darkened and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You watched behind strands of damp hair as he continued thrusting into you, harder each time. His moans low an guttural. His thrusts also became faster, pounding into your slick wet cunt like an assault, pushing you further into the mattress until your legs lay flat underneath him. He held you there like that as he continued. Placing both of his hands on your shoulders. Your face buried in the sheets, you screamed each time he buried himself within you. He was so deep, it hurt. You could feel him slam into your cervixe with each push. But it felt so fucking good. One of his hands slipped to the backside of your neck where he continued pushing, leaning in closely to peck your sweat tinged forehead as his cock continued beating into your cunt. You mewled at him, still begging for more.

He quickly and suddenly rolled you on top on him. You straddled him on the bed, his cock still twitching deep inside you. “Ride me” he said demandingly. Looking directly into your eyes with a face you would never say no to. You would do anything he demanded of you. You lifted each leg to steady yourself on your feet while remaining seated, feeling him throb within you. Watching his face twitch as you shifted positions, how his eyes watched your every move.

You met his eyes and locked gaze as you slowly began to bounce on top of him. His hands rested upon your thighs, slamming you down as you went, lifting his head from the bed and throwing it back as you continued moving up and down his length. “Y/n” he whimpered as you clenched around him. He hissed, sucking in air through his gritted teeth, using his hands to help rock you forward and backwards on top of him as you rose and fell. His face softened as you used your hands to explore his body. Caressing his abdomen and chest, reaching to his face and gently dancing your fingertips over his lips, enveloping him in a passionate kiss as you continued to grind into him. You sat up once more watching his face as you rode him. He pawed at your heaving breasts as they bounced above him. Squeezing them and caressing them.

His breathing quickened and your body felt light. You could feel his body tense underneath you. Your motions slowed as you approached your own climax. Bouncing less and grinding more, his cock, hitting the right spot every time. He reached his hands to your hips, pulling you closer onto him, pushing you back and pulling you forward. You could feel yourself clenching harder around him, focusing on the feeling.

He was grunting and breathing heavy with each push against him. He locked eyes with you once more under a furrowed brow. Watching as you writhed, and moaned atop of him, because of him. He drew great pleasure in seeing you enjoy yourself. But so did you. Focusing on his face as he felt you envelope him, feeling you from the inside. “Come for me?” you said pleadingly. He nodded, squeezing your hips, rocking you back and forth on him harder. Up, down, forward, back.

You could feel yourself tighten around him as you approached the precipice of your climax. His cock swelling inside you. Your orgasm took hold, striking through your body. You quivered and convulsed on top of him crying out loudly as you came. “Fuuuck, Randall I’m coming!” Your breath hitched as your climax ravaged your body, causing you to breath as if you had just jumped into a cold lake. You froze as the convulsions sent shockwaves through your body. You could feel his cock begin to spasm inside of you as his movements slowed, holding you to him as he pumped his seed deep within your trembling cunt. A long low animalistic groan escaped his lips, almost like a growl as he came. Each twitch of his member, filling you with the warmth of his essence. His face scrunched as his body twitched beneath you with each wave of his orgasm that swept over him. You continued riding him excruciatingly slow, letting pearls of his essence leak out of you.

As both of your breathing began to slow he reached up pulling your face towards his, stealing a sloppy tired kiss. He pushed himself up, and you slid off of him laying next to him. He then reached over, turning the knob for the bedside lamp to shut it off before sliding closer to you. Laying on the pillow beside you and facing you, he intertwines his legs with yours. His still swollen member rest a top your mid thigh as he pulled you closer to him.

He pulled the comforter from the floor to cover you, looking down at you, with one finger lifting your chin for another kiss. He closed his eyes and pressed his soft lips hard against yours, breathing in through his nose. He continued kissing your face before cradling you to his chest where you held onto him raising and wrapping one leg around him, listening to his heartbeat and being lulled to sleep by it. “Thank you” you heard him whisper while kissing the top of your head as you drifted to sleep within his arms, thinking of how sweet he was and how you managed to find a sliver of happiness here. How lucky you must be, you thought. There was no greater comfort you could ask for than Randall. In a place where you were forever lost, Randall felt like home.

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[troglobite]

(i agree w op and it's a good point; i'm pushing back against a couple things in this second addition/rb & some implications in the op, as well. still not trying to be argumentative, but push the conversation further & challenge certain entrenched ideas. bc again, i agree & am coming from that angle.)

hotter take: the demonization of "ultraprocessed foods" is damaging no matter what. highly recommend this nutritionist for any info abt that. if [general, not op/rb] you won't listen to me, maybe [general] you will listen to a thin and licensed nutritionist.

the intent here is good: don't deprive your child of unifying and delightful social experiences. let them enjoy food. don't give them complexes about food. don't micromanage your child's diet to the point where they resent it, etc.

but also, maybe, just let them enjoy food. and teach/show them how! they are CHILDREN. unless they have allergies, sensitivities, or other serious health concerns, they will be FINE if they eat some candy MOST days of the week for various stretches of time. or ANYTHING sweet. or salty. basically every person in the world (with medical exceptions, exceptions for taste/preference, etc.) would be fine having at least 1 dessert every day. (and also this is only using "health" as a reference, which is a Whole Thing in and of itself)

maybe, also, as is the solution to most things: simply treat children like people who are just learning how things work.

instead of limiting what they eat without their involvement, instead of demonizing food and scaring them away from it or shaming them, or even acting like certain kinds of diets are even accessible to most people, how about we instead:

teach kids abt what we currently know abt how food works. why do they crave sugar and salt? why do these foods taste really good, and these ones don't? can we make them taste better? sometimes tastes change over time, so every few years we can try this food again, if you're up for it. how do you feel after you eat A LOT of food, regardless of what it is? what do you want to eat at different times? how do different foods make you feel? what kinds of tastes do you like? here are traditional and culturally relevant foods, and how/why they're important. how do we MAKE food? what abt food safety?

give them knowledge and choice in what they eat and how they eat it and when.

this is only possible if we education ourselves abt food, as well! which is why education around this is so important. but even the basics: hunger is this, food gives you energy, you need different kinds of energy, you probably should have a wide variety of it, etc.

for example, there is no such thing as junk food, there's just food. nutrition isn't just about calories or vitamins, etc., it's also abt social connection (covered well in this post), cultural connection, and emotional regulation.

it also looks different for everybody. no two people will require the same kinds of food in the same amounts prepared in the same ways. and what we know about nutrition is actually quite limited! not to say what we have is Completely Wrong, but that it's silly to paint with such a broad brush when we keep having to research and revise--and there are so many factors to health and diet that are difficult to account for, and make each person's needs individual. food & movement aren't the only two. and your socioeconomic status & geographic location control what you eat way more than anything else.

"ultraprocessed food" serves so many purposes: it lasts longer, it's typically more reliable and widely available, it's generally more affordable, and it's, crucially, more consistent and predictable, which is a HUGE thing for children (not even speaking of neurodivergent people in general). for ppl who can't afford the money or time of fresh foods, "ultra processed foods" are GREAT. (and they're also great for anyone who loves them)

if you have a problem with them, take it up with the government! we can have "ultra processed foods" that don't hurt people--it's the hormone disruptors and unnecessary food dyes that are the problem. they're outlawed elsewhere. we could follow their lead. preservation of foods isn't inherently bad. (and on the labor side, again, take it up with the govt: all workers deserve to be safe at work, protected, have a more than livable wage, benefits, etc.)

all of this is an overarching pipe dream about how we talk abt, teach abt, and interact with food, particularly as it pertains to raising our kids. but that's the point i'm going for here.

op is completely right, as is the addition; my hackles rise against "more wholesome foods" and "ultra processed foods" and the "let them have it every once in a while". you can go a month eating "junk" food (again, no such thing), and unless you have particular allergies or health concerns, you'll probably be fine.

determinants of health are so much bigger than what we eat and what we physically do.

so when it comes to teaching kids about food, we have to stop categorizing some foods as bad and others as good. it seems to be easier, but oversimplifying things for kids never goes well. if you're gonna simplify, at least be accurate and at least don't give them fucked up complexes abt shit.

tree nuts are WIDELY considered a Good Food. but they hurt me and could possibly even kill me, because i'm allergic.

fresh greens are WIDELY considered a Good Food. but they're raw, uncooked, and staring down the barrel of fewer safety regulations--so not only are they inconsistent in quality and texture (bad for kids & anyone with sensitive tastes), but they're also riskier. and ALSO, i have hEDS, and my body Cannot Digest fresh greens very well. (if accessible, an opportunity to teach kids abt where food comes from and maybe grow your own! but also [stares at heavy metals in most of the US soil] so y'know. ymmv.)

they're no better or worse than an "ultra processed" version of greens. that includes things like salsa, flavored veggie smoothies, premade soups, frozen veggies, etc.

the sum of my response to op & addition is: yes, absolutely. but also, there are no bad or good foods, and nutrition is more complicated than that. as per uszh, the solution is to treat kids like people and give them what knowledge you can, then let them make their own choices.

and the sum of everything else is: basically what i wish more people knew so that they COULD teach their kids that stuff. and also for themselves! and also this doesn't even get into the concept of "health" as a Whole Fucking Thing.

This is a controversial take that everyone will hate but it's one thing to feed your kid better, more wholesome food than twinkies and hot pockets daily, it's another thing to force them to adhere to a crunchy granola beige colored diet where they cant share the snacks their peers are eating or have a normal childhood or have fun. None of you were raised like that and if you were you know what im talking about.