#part of it of course is that it came out at the absolute peak of the collectathon game loop's popularity

[rlyehtaxidermist]

I think the biggest test of nostalgia goggles for the N64 era is Donkey Kong 64.

A lot of the big N64 classics do still stand on their own (I would list SM64, the Zeldas, Paper Mario, SF64, F-Zero X) or feel a bit dated compared to newer installments but still have their merits (Kirby 64, MK64, I’m not an FPS fan but I’ll include GoldenEye for completion’s sake).

And then there’s DK64. Which despite being lauded as better than most of the games I listed above on release, has aged a lot less gracefully.

[send4venus]

do u think you could write something about reader faking an orgasm and then abby finding out n she is maaddd 🙈

it’s okay if not tho !❤️

I can absolutely try !! I hope what I wrote is somewhat close to what you were envisioning but either way, I hope you enjoy <33

Warnings - basically the ask, essentially porn with no plot therefore it's not written with any specific AU in mind so feel free to interpret it into whatever one you want, smut (MDNI), tribbing, unintentional edging, faking a orgasm, lowkey kinda awkward at the beginning, overstim, oral & fingering r!receiving, praise, abbys just a sweetheart who wants to take care of you

this is also definitely longer than it should’ve been but oh well

"fffuck baby you feel so good”

Abbys on top of you grunting and whining as she grinds her wet pussy across your’s and you’re also whining underneath her with furrowed brows however, unlike Abby, you can’t seem to reach that peak you so desperately want and need.

No matter what you try to do in an attempt to gain more friction whether it be grinding up into abby or trying to follow her movements, you only receive light grazes when abbys clit drags against yours which keeps you pent up and frustrated. And it definitely doesn’t help that your focus is off as your mind is crowded with the stress of midterms. All you want to do is have sex and cum with your girlfriend, but by the looks of it, that just wont be happening, and you’re too nervous to tell her.

Finally, Abby lets out a long drawn out string of curses and quick breaths as she leans down to lay on top of you as she orgasms and you feel her cum dripping onto your cunt and the feeling makes you let out a whine.

Abbys still grinding against you kisses along your neck and you can hear her whimpers and see her legs shake from overstimulation but you know she isnt gonna stop until you finish, so mentally you apologize to her for what you’re about to do and let out a series of faux high pitched whimpers moans and curses and grind up into her, hoping that she wont focus on it enough and just mistake her own juices as yours and that your moans are convincing enough.

But Abby knows you. She knows exactly what you sound like when you finish, she knows how your clit twitches and hole squeezes around nothing, your sloppy attempts at getting a few last bits of friction in, and she knows that whatever it was that you just did, definitely wasn’t real.

Abby quickly sits up and positions herself over you with her arms on either side of your head and you’re trying your best to avoid her confrontational gaze.

“baby?”

You respond with a quick ‘hm?’ before finally looking at her, trying to make yourself appear as innocent as possible.

“did you just.. fake an orgasm?”

“what?! n-no of course not why would you-“

“don’t you dare fucking lie to me”

You swallow thickly. You knew she could see right through you and her assertiveness always made your facades crumble. So after a few seconds of silence and her pointed eyes staring right into yours you finally break

“okay i did im sorry! im just too distracted and i didn’t wanna ruin it for you and because i know how overstimulated you get and you wouldn’t stop until i came and-”

You rambled on and on explaining it to her and then she started… laughing? You stopped talking,suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed and exposed.

“baby its okay, i just wish you would’ve told me, i just gotta make it up to you now”

Your brows furrowed at the last part of her sentence

“make it up to me how?”

“ fuck right there! “

Abby’s tongue plunged in and out of your cunt, occasionally stopping and reaching up to circle or suck on your clit, she had already made you cum beforehand letting you grind up and down on her thigh, allowing you to get the friction you were so desperately craving, leaving you fucked out yet still begging for more.

Your moans and curses bounced off the walls as the noises abby made while eating you out as if you were her favorite food, and if Abby was honest, you might as well be.

“abs shit don’t stop m’ gonna cum im so close please don’t stop”

Abby hummed in acknowledgment and sped up her pace, earning an extremely loud whine from you and you ground onto her face in an attempt to bring you to your peak sooner.

Within seemingly seconds you’re thighs were squeezing around abbys head so tight she almost couldn’t breathe as your orgasm crashed into you, although she wasn’t complaining. Your hand instinctively tugged on her messy braid, causing her to groan into your core, and the other you slapped over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans and curses.

She slowed her movements and your thighs and hands loosened up. Eventually she stopped and you started to catch your breath, assuming she was done but it hitched when you felt her fingers curling up into you.

“i know baby just one more ‘kay? you can handle that right sweet girl?”

You nodded your head responding with a mumbled ‘can handle it abs’ which made her smile. She sat above you now, her eyes focused on watching how your cunt squeezed around her fingers as she pushed the remnants of your previous orgasm back in.

You felt that same bubbling feeling in your core embarrassingly quickly. You tried to tell abby through broken whines and curses, wrapping your hand around her wrist even, but couldn’t seem to get the words out as your brain was beginning to short circuit and your body began to twitch due to the overstimulation.

“shh i know baby go ahead i got you”

Not too long afterwards your legs shook and abby felt you squeeze around her fingers so tightly she could barely move. She leaned down and kissed you gently as you succumbed to your orgasm. the kiss was sweet and sensual, a stark contrast to the shocks being sent through you as she rubbed your clit.

Eventually every little thing became too much to handle and you brought your hand up to her chest to gently push her off. Abby sat up and removed her fingers, smiling as she admired her work, licking you off her fingers and leaning down to give you a quick peck on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself, before smiling against them

“told you i’d make it up to you”

[chlmtsdoll]

BOMBSHELL

౨ৎ @cinnamoncunt asked: can we pleaseee get an either art or patrick fic with victoria secret model reader?

Um, ABSOLUTELY ? Let’s do both ! Perfect timing bc I just settled on being a vs angel for halloween since I don’t have 2 bfs to do challengers this year. I’m sick of seeing the girls on my fyp who get to do it so this will justify my envy. 🤍

౨ৎ summary: it’s 2006 and you’re the opener for this years Victoria’s Secret fashion show. But unlike your other fellow angels, you have not one, but two supportive boyfriends just waiting to get their hands on you after the show.

౨ৎ warnings: 18+, smut !, threesome, p in v (unprotected) sex, oral (f) receiving, early 20’s Art and Pat, model reader, womanizer Patrick, shy Art, reader has dom-ish moments, flirty foreplay, pet names, dirty talk, Victoria’s Secret (the brand) mentions, a song inspo: Long Way 2 Go by Cassie

You might’ve been the only angel backstage with two boyfriends on her radar.

No, you totally were.

And that was fine by you when having the two boys under your wings was your own little secret.

Art and Patrick wouldn’t have missed it for the world. With not only their supermodel girlfriend being the opener for the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show, but fulfilling a great erotic teenage dream — something they both watched together during former years. In their dorm room at the Mark Rebellato Academy, while the other thirteen year olds would be up playing video games, or signing up for extra tennis classes in their free time, those two were glued in front of the tv. Creating a world of their own fantasy’s filled with angel wings and lingering far too overwhelming for them to even handle. Long legs, the bounciest glowing curls and pink bra sets filling the void. Their fascination with gorgeous and exceptionally powerful women at such a young age was far more vibrant than average.

It was what they bonded over from the very beginning.

Doing whatever they could whenever they could to find girls as close to what you happened to be as possible.

So when you came into their life, effortlessly magnetic with your beauty, superb bone structure, glitter dusted skin and a modeling contract — Art and Patrick had been at your beck and call since.

This was your peak. You’d really been here. Your I made it moment sinking in as you sat in the makeup chair backstage. The chaos of other models and their teams all rushing to get ready for the huge fashion show starting in just an hour tops was comforting to you, as an artist smudged on your cherry blush and the stroke of mascara running through your lashes before you checked your reflection in the mirror. Perfection to the way your curls flowed down your back, to even the careless drape of your robe hanging off your shoulder.

In the distance coming from not too far, there had been tousling wings parting as crew of models jumped out of the way, along with yelps like “what the hell ?” and “you guys can’t be back here!” coming from the group of girls.

And of course, it had been your blonde and brunette trailing through the crowd of angels to find you.

You watched with giggles coming from your covered mouth as the most handsomely men approached you. “What are you two doing back here?! You’re gonna get me fired and I haven’t even walked yet- -”

Art had a sideways little smile on his face, and eyes set on your face done up in shimmery makeup. You could nearly feel the way Arts heart had to be beating out of his chest just by the flustered look on his expression. Red and a tad dewy in the heat of the other barely clothed with mostly just rhinestones and lace six foot models surrounding him — but his focus was automatically choked up by you. On the other hand, Patrick’s eyes had been lingering all over the place, standing next to Art with a smirk across his lips as he had already charmed a group of angels nearby. Waving to them a bit with his sly attitude being just what they needed to get the fun pumping out of them for the show. As the girls all giggled to themselves and tried their best to look away, the brunette couldn’t wait to go yapping to all his friends or whoever would listen about all the hot girls he’d seen tonight.

You were so used to his cockiness contrasting Arts sweetness all too well, it hadn’t even phased you in the slightest..

“We uh- - wanted to bring you a little gift.” The blonde one spoke up nervously after clearing his throat, from behind his back, he revealed to you a full bouquet of pink peonies.

“Your favorite for all that hard work in the gym. The prettiest for our pretty girl.” Patrick grinned as he passed the flowers to you and you had let out an excited little noise as you took them. Your smile facing the two men as they watched your every girlish movement that they adored, smelling the arrangement in front of you.

“I- - you guys are too cute. They’re lovely.”

“You look bad ass by the way.” Art finally let himself breathe before chuckling with a smirk. And you grinned at him, pink colored cheeks as you stand to get closer to the men. Lean and in your six inches, Patrick shoved his hands down in his pockets just so resist the urge to touch you. Just a hip or your wrist. Anything he could while you looked like that. In all the eloquence of a woman that you were. Body so fit to him it was almost painful he wasn’t going into a spiral right now.

“Please confirm this for me angel.. can the wings stay on tonight ?” The brunette licked his lips carved into a smile of his own mischievous thoughts, Art then shoved him in his bicep.

You couldn’t help but let out soft laughter as you looked down at the peonies with shyness although your eyes had been full of tease.

“I can’t take them silly, they’re gonna be up in a museum.” You bit your lip as you smiled at your boyfriends. Eyes sparkling under the florescent lights of the room and the pair had collectively sucked in their breaths from.

“Ah.. course, course.” Patrick nodded although he’d still been eyeing you up in your pink stripped robe. “I don’t think they’d be able to fit in the limo anyways, they’re so big..” the blonde one laughed with the two of you, your eyes moved between them before you looked away with a naughty but playful nature.

“Yeah, well, I gotta say I like my pleasures pretty big..” your tone was smooth, as smooth as the way your hand then trailed, pink tips touching delicately over Arts belt buckle to Patrick’s leather as you made sure to meet both of the boy’s widening eyes. You turn back to your makeup chair with a little smile.

“Holy shit.” and “Oh my god.” Was heard behind your shoulder.

“Now go before you get kicked out.” You giggled. Patrick had knock Arts shoulder so he’d come back to earth and start heading out with him. You waved their way with your fingers and could barely hide your embarrassingly big smile, watching them fawn over you even while exiting.

As the show began and the crowd was roaring, the anticipation backstage was an overwhelming high with the rest of your fellow angels. You were first. And that was a lot of weight on your back. (not just from your wings) the moment you stepped on the runway, and the lights set on you, cheers were heard from the far back of the audience as your gleaming smile took upon your face. In your vs set, glimmering down the runway. You felt the adrenaline move within your hips as you not walked, but glided down the runway in a sexiness that had a sense of grace and girlish fun. Excitement big and bubbling through you as you blew kisses to the crowds of not just other models, but fans, legends. Everyone admiring you.

The front row wasn’t absent of familiar faces either because when you found Art and Patrick eyeing each other with proud grins, all the memories and moments of their early teen hoods was like a flashback through their minds. Art and Patrick would shamefully try and hide the way their cocks would tent as they watched one after the other angel strut down the runway. In bliss it was all the wanted to see it right in front of them. Now, that same feeling was on a different level when they got to actually leave with one herself. the moment you flashed a smile at the two boys from the stage before swishing your lace lined hips back stage — they started cheering even more than the others around them. You closed heavenly. And you knew you looked damn good with seven foot pink angel wings behind you.

♡

When the after party rolled around, it was all of your model friends to pour it up in celebration of a phenomenal show. The other angels had begged you to stay, keep dancing on tables and flirting with the guys at the bar — but your desire had been pulled to have your own little after party. But with just your two boys in attendance.

You let them take over your hotel suit with as much whiskey and champagne as they wanted, more wine and more glasses being delivered to your room would rack up a massive bill at the end of the night that your agents would take care of. You couldn’t give a care in the world as you’d been frolicking around that room in your gifted pink set, diamond bra stuck to your chest made you look from another world of heavenliness. Your heels were still strapped on and the r&b from the radio filled the area as you stood on the bed to pose for the camera of your blinged out BlackBerry. You had Patrick snapping pictures, capturing you on your big night. Even if you’d already gotten tons from the show, that just wasn’t enough when you had the looks of a goddess.

“Hell yeah, baby, that’s it.” The brunette edged you on as he got you from all angels, knowing he’d send them to himself immediately after you’d gotten your pick. You giggled with a glass of champagne in one hand, and your other pushing up your locks for more volume. Art sipping on whatever he had while observing you from Patrick’s side. Putting on a show for the two boys without even realizing it.

“Make sure you get my good side,”

“Are they not the same ?” The brunette had made an confused expression from behind the phone. You stopped from posing to reach out and laugh “gimme” you grabbed it from him and all he could do was grin at the way you had no idea just how much of a true bombshell were. Art sat on the bed closest to you while you pressed different buttons to scroll through the dozens of photos with a bitten lip covered in gloss. The blondes eyes ran over your skin, the way you sat in that little set, and the way he relaxed against the comforter of the bed with a shy grin made you look up from your phone to meet his blue orbs.

“What ?” You tittered, throwing your phone to the other side of the bed.

“It’s just, you were so confident out there tonight, princess. You’re always so.. confident. You didn’t even look like a thought of nervousness had crossed your mind,” Art reached out to run the back of his index over your glowing skin and you hid your smile in your shoulder a bit.

“I was so nervous.”

“Really ?” He sat up.

“Yeah, opening in front of all those people ? Live tv ? Half naked and in six inch heels ? I was terrified.”

“You could of fooled me.” Patrick scoffed as he sat on your other side, “what Art said.. your confidence. It’s so sexy.”

“Yeah ?” Your voice was slightly silkier as you look from the brunette to the blonde who were only inches away from you now, breathing in your pure seduction they couldn’t hide the need to want to get that lacy thong off you immediately. Taste what you’d been teasing them with all night long.

“like.. what if my heel got stuck ? …what if I fell ?”

“No way, your- effortless.”

“But would you have rushed to save me ?” You leaned in close to the brunette, batted you lashes with a subtle pout. And it was then that rare occasion when Patrick had gotten choked up on his words occurred. You gave him your sweetest eyes, and smirked at the way his vision trailed down to your lips from there. Hands going to slip around your thigh.

“Who wouldn’t ?” You then heard the blondes voice come in slowly. He watched you turn away from Patrick’s embrace to now focus on him.

Arts eyes meet yours and that sugary smile you always carry returned to your face too soon. You followed what he laid down. Leaning in Arts path now, your lips landed against the blondes. Slow and with ease you kiss and the tension in who’d entrance you first was settled. Art slipped a hand in your waves, he moved his mouth against yours like it had been second nature to him and you sat on your knees to deepen it, tongues running against one another and a soft “mmm” came from the back of your throat as he surprised you with his newfound control over his movements.

Lost in the kisses as your lips smack against one another continuously, the lip stain of your liner now smudged across arts mouth, the blonde groaned. Patrick, felt his hard on grow viscous as he scanned the two of you. And Art, way beyond that point, could of came if it went on just a few more minutes.

You grab on to his curly locks as you pulled him away, softly panting with a smile. Arts lips were lingering nearby as you closed your eyes to peck them one last time before brushing your thumb against his bottom one with a giggle, your view flashes Patrick’s direction.

“Now, are you gonna make me cum or what ?” You sigh before letting your back hit the sheets behind you, leaving the two to fend for themselves at once. You watched Patrick’s digits run over your front side, hunger in his as while feeling up your skin. Art already leaned in to find his place between your legs — the other following when he got the memo. “mmm, you smell like paradise..” Art had his nose pressed against your lace covered cunt. He breathed deep for your sent to fill his senses, and Patrick kissing up your thigh. You observed with a bitten lip as you play with the strap of your bra.

“She is paradise..” was the brunette’s response, he nibbled a bit on the plushness of your thigh and you squeal excitedly. Both boys struggle to let the other get your panties out of the way, you were amused to watch them. You just lifted your legs so it would be easier. They settled on the side since your set had been hot anyways. One leg on the shoulder of the other, you felt a digit come in contact with your clit — already letting out a soft whimper. A tongue laid a stripe up your cunt, and it felt like sweet relief.

Art took his time with going from kissing to lapping at your core, setting his tongue flat then flicking up to your folds, Patrick focused on your clit. Sucking till his lips find their way to eating you in rhythm. Your eyebrows knit together as you let out a higher pitched noise and stuffed your hands into their hair, the overwhelming sensations washed over you. Moans echo clean from your throat. “oh- yeah… good boys.” you heard more groans vibrate from your core and that made you grin. All while now reaching for the pillows above your head as the boys make your legs shake and tremble. You gasp, muttering curses under your breath.

They were too good just oral wise. It had your nails clawing at the sheets in no time as they let all their craving for you out on your pussy, it pushed you into a climax fast.

“Mmm, yes- - fuck !” you whine as you start to cum on the tongues that were fucking into you, even their licking and sucking after your soaked cunt made you shutter. Your grip on the sheets letting up slowly as you came down with a soft sigh. Art rubbed the back of your thigh as he leaned up with the other, they both sat back with their chests heaving and very visible bulges showing from behind their jeans.

You cracked a honeyed smile. “Okay. Let me see those cocks.” You rise to your elbows after the order and the men take no hesitation to get their buttons undone. Your smile turning to a darker smirk soon enough in anticipation.

“She wants to play, huh ?” Art’s lips curled into a grin as he looked up at you whist shoving his pants and boxers down his thighs, Patrick already way ahead of him as he chuckled,

“Always a bad girl under all that sweetness,” the brunette joked as he playfully pulled on your foot and you yanked it away with a giggle. “You know I can’t help it.” You lean up to see the sight in front of you. Both men hard enough to keep you up till sunrise and your eyes light up right then. “Oh, look what we have here..” your tone was playful as you got closer, keeping an eye on them but also the way both their pretty cocks stood in excitement for you.

Reaching out you went to Patrick first. Letting your soft but experienced hand stroke him a bit, just to feel his thickness grow in your embrace.

“Shit..” the word slips from him and you sucked in your bottom lip as you went to work, innocently watching his expression as you stroked him so calmly but with devotion.

“Y’know… I never got a kiss.” The man uttered and you scoffed kittenishly before hovering your lips above his, smooching just once before Patrick went in hot, reaching behind you to palm at your ass and inch you forward to him. You yelped mixed with a string of giggles, pushing him down on the bed so you can climb on top of him.

“Get this off,” your voice was playful and flirty as you pulled Patrick’s shirt over his chest and arms. “You too, Art.” the blonde was quick to follow.

Your dripping core was just inches above Patrick's erect member. You sat at top of his body, just smiling and admiring the view. But it was a known fact the man underneath you was quite impatient, especially when you’d been running your hands down his chest the way you were, acrylic nails doing their own thing by the texture of the hair lightly trialed there.

“You gonna show me how you ride like an angel, princess ? Or should I do it myself ?” You were blushing right after his words, nodding a bit, your hands lead down farther to find his dick, brushing it up against your clothed slit as you sucked in your breath. With just a couple adjustments, you were leaning up so you could fit Patrick’s thick and full cock inside of you. A whimper immediately breaking through you as you sunk down. And the brunette didn’t hold back for a second as he held your hips, thumb kneading against the mesh fabric of your panties and watching the way you move so gracefully above him.

Art was too drawn in by the scene to have even remembered to get himself prepared. He hadn’t touched his cock, but you knew what to do.

Reaching out, you gently took Arts chin in your palm as you brought him close. Still going up Patrick’s cock as you kissed the blonde nice and slow. You all were beginning to be a mess of moans. “Touch yourself while we fuck, okay ?” You whispered against Arts ear. It caused him the most delightful chills. He didn’t think twice as his own hand went to his cock. And you started bouncing on Patrick, whimpering and moaning out like their hadn’t been people in the next door rooms — your hair springing off your skin with you.

“There you go, doll… take my dick. You’re so fucking hot.” Patrick grunted as he held your waist so you could fuck yourself against him, leaving no space between as you rocked yourself on his lap. Your mouth went agape when he readjusted to pound up into your tight hole,

“Yeah- - was I the hottest angel out there tonight ?”

“Fuck yeah..” the brunette grabbed you with roughness so you’d been flush with his chest, you smiled as he made your pussy clench hard frantically and your moans turned into stuttering whines. Taking him like this, you knew you’d cum. So you then hit on his chest to let you up, that way you could save your next high just a little longer.

“Oh- - shit… shit,” you climbed off of the man and sniveled out as you flipped your hair out of your face.

“Oh my god.. baby, I was so close.”

“Not yet. Art, come fuck me.” Your directness had turned the blonde on so much he could feel his cock twitch at your words. He met you, and with one look at your gorgeous set gaze on his and a smirk on your lips it set his thoughts wild. His tongue darted out to wet his own lip as you smiled up at him, you finally got rid of your bra now, and slipped off your panties before placing a hand on his neck tenderly as the other slid up his chest. Arts eyes locked with yours, he just watched you with a coy little sideways smile. And when you turned around, your ass was at his crotch, you were bending over near the bedspread and he sucked in his breath. “Oh, shit..” the blonde muttered. And it made you giggle girlishly.

You were pushing your soaked pussy on Arts member, “my god, you’re so wet.” He announced just ready to pump you full himself, but he knew he wouldn’t want anything to ruin the sweetness of the moment. So he let his tip meet your core, you observed with wide eyes, his dick perfectly pink and dripping of pre cum. You were practically salivating at the sight. “Fuck her good, Art.” Patrick chimed in and the blonde pushed into you with a deep groan leaving his throat, you gripped at the sheets as your face scrunched up and your jaw went hanging. Art slowly moved his hips against you, mouth agape at the sight of your ass against him heavily. Arts hand kneaded against your hip.

You spread your legs a little farther apart to take him. All of him. Moaning like you’d been split in half, Art started to thrust nice and easy. It made you reach back to grab his muscly arm for support and he grunted from the sight of your teasing eyes watching him, you always just had to see Arts face whenever he fucked you, because he was so pretty. Especially like this — chest glistening and damp curls as he made escalating noises exit you. You regularly told him he would be successful if he ever gave modeling a shot. Although he never believed you, thinking you were just being kind. But you really meant it. Art was delicious on the eyes. And not that he took any away from Patrick (him being too pretentious even for the modeling industry anyways) but they each had their own beauty to serve in different ways. Arts gorgeousness came straight from good genes. And just like his face, so did his cock. Wonderful and thicker than most guys his age, especially when he put it to good use like you and Patrick occasionally showed him.

You smile beneath your bitten lip and mewls at your other delectable boyfriend, Arts sly grin was in response and when he pounded into you faster, you felt the bed shake. You couldn’t hold back as you began to scream his name. It was always in the front of your mind to make Art feel good when you knew he struggled with his shyness at times unlike the brunette.

“Yes ! Yes, oh fuck- - make me cum, Art !”

“Yeah ? ..You like that ?” The blonde huffed as he snapped his hips into you,

“Uh hu… harder- - fuck it, just like that.”

Art let his hands palms at your ass, then slide up your torso to cup your breasts. Gripping them in his hands as you slid yourself up and down his member. “Your tits are fucking perfect, oh my god.” You felt slick running down your inner thigh, sheets tight in your palms as your eyes began to roll.

Patrick who watched right beside Art, was jerking himself to the sounds of your syrupy moans. You looked too angelic on Arts cock, he couldn’t help it as his free hand smacked down on your ass while you fucked yourself on Art. It made you both groan. And you loved it, your flirty smile said it all.

Art felt full enough to cum in you right then, the sight of your cunt spread against him was starting to make his head spin. “I’m gonna fill you up pretty girl, you ready ?” It was quick thrusts and a mixture of your half screams and half moans of “fuck, Art!” Filling the noise of the room before you were gushing around his dick. And he was spilling inside of you like that, an uncontrollable amount of his seed was painting your walls and the blonde made sure to get every last drip of it in your sweet cunt. The other man l beside him pumped his cock quick to releasing on your back side all with a string of groans and curses.

You didn’t collapse on your stomach just yet, not only the feeling of the two boys marking their territory on you being too excellent of a feeling to end just yet, but because Art crouched to lick at your puffy cunt. He tasted the mixture of you and him (with Patrick flowing into the mix) as you let out soft whimpers against the pillows. The brunette gripped your ass cheeks to help and you wiggled from the pleasure with a sigh of giggles. “naughty girl.” He smirked, the other licked up what was left of all of you like a pro. Your toes flexed and curled with the punch of his tongue.

“Fuck. That was amazing. You were amazing. ” Was all he could say when he collapsed on he comforter beside you with a deep breath and you turned on your back too. Slowly coming down from trembling. Art wrapped an arm over your body as he rested against your shoulder and you smile.

“That was the most fun I’ve ever had- - ever.” Your laughter was light and Patrick to your side got close to your body too, you let your hand gently caress his jaw.

“They weren’t gonna give you that at the after party we’re they ?” He grinned.

“No. Definitely not.” you shook your head with the sweat on your face only making your half ruined makeup look better somehow. Your love spell body shimmer still stuck to your skin and even got on Art and Patrick’s sculpted bodies pretty nicely as they gently rubbed you down. You smiled before tapping above your cheek bones, and both of your boys knew what to do. They left a two sweet kisses for you.

[jeonful]

TATTOO!

summary: you get a new tattoo and jungkook makes sure you know how much he loves it.

pairings: bf!jungkook x fem!reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut

word count: 1.1k

warnings/includes: nsfw, smut, pwp, swearing, oc gets a new spine tattoo, pet names, teasing, unprotected sex, rough sex, penetrative sex, d/s dynamic, bigdick!jk, 3D!jk, softdom!jk, doggy style, spanking, praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving), cum eating, f!ngering, overstimulation, cream pie, cumming inside

back to library

"fuck."

he stared in awe at the new ink that ran down your back. it's intricate details starting at the top and ending at the bottom of your spine.

you were holding your t-shirt up so he could see you're new tattoo.

his fingers delicately traced around the artwork on your back,

"you like it?"

you asked, glancing back at him,

"no baby, i fucking love it."

you grin and then pull your t-shirt down.

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you babe. i was planning on surprising you."

"don't apologise baby. i'm glad you surprised me."

he rubbed his thumbs in circles, massaging your hips, each movement causing you to almost moan out his name.

he knew what he was doing.

"did it hurt?"

he asked,

"not really. it wasn't as bad as i thought it would be."

he smiled and you turned round.

you put your arms round his neck and he hugged you, wrapping his arms tightly around your lower back which caused you to wince,

"ow,"

he quickly realised his mistake,

"shit. baby m'sorry."

he put his hands on your hips instead.

you shook your head,

"no, it's okay kook."

he planted a soft, slow kiss onto your delicate lips,

"the worst part of having a tattoo is the healing."

he was, of course, speaking from experience.

"yeah."

you mumbled,

"aw baby..."

he held your face in his hands and leaned down to kiss you again, but harder this time. then again but this time, adding his tongue.

he pulled back and gazed at you,

"m'gonna fuck you now. wanna see your back on full display in front of me."

your pussy throbbed for him.

you were so wet already.

you grinned at him,

"just be careful babe."

you told him.

you didn't want the beautiful, fresh wound on your spine to endure anymore pain today.

he brushed his thumb across your bottom lip,

"i'll be gentle. i promise."

you smiled.

not because of the sweet words that had fallen from his lips but because of how he had made a promise that he absolutely could not keep.

in no time at all, jungkook had you on the bed, on all fours and was ramming his thick dick into your hungry pussy.

"fuck -ngh, you feel so good baby,"

his hands were firmly holding your hips, his eyes were fixated on both the beauty of your spine and ass,

"so. fucking. tight,"

he groaned with each thrust. his hand gripped the headboard, causing him to lean over you, driving his cock deeper inside of you,

"good girl,"

he breathed, and you moaned and arched your back, causing his dick to twitch inside of you.

"koo, please, i'm so close..."

you whined and he smirked and that's when you felt a short, sharp pain across your ass,

"cum baby,"

his hand came to stroke your clit,

"can you do that f'me?"

that was it.

your moans became louder as you reached your peak, you moved forwards and back, clenching around jungkook's hard length,

"kook..."

you say, your eyes started to blur as tears formed, you couldn’t take his words combined with the amount of pleasure he was giving you, it was too much.

jungkook groaned at the feeling of how easy it was to slide through your soaked walls, even though they were wrapped around him.

the knot that had formed long ago in your stomach had snapped, the feeling in your pussy flushed through you and you released all of your juices onto him, coating his pulsing cock.

"fuck, that's it baby,"

he whispered,

"such a good girl f'me..."

you rocked your hips in time with his, you were absolutely soaked.

"mmh-"

jungkook moaned, fucking you harder, deeper, trying to feel as much as you as he possibly could.

his breathing increased rapidly, his jaw clenched and his movements became sloppy, his moans became whiny, desperate whimpers,

"fuck baby, m'gonna cum-"

he didn't bother trying to hold on any longer, he was at his limit.

heaps of his warm milky cum spilled deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

he watched as it flowed out.

he couldn't think of anything more beautiful than his cum dripping out of you.

jungkook didn't hesitate and flipped you onto your back.

he put your legs over his shoulders, and instantly latching his mouth onto your swollen cunt.

"fuck!"

you whined, your head dropping down onto the mattress and your hand tugging at his hair.

his hands ran up and down your thighs, his moans vibrated through your body, making your legs clamp around him.

he gripped your thighs and licked a broad stripe from your slit to your nub then down again.

his tongue swirled around your wet hole, hungrily lapping up the mixture of your cum combined with his.

he couldn’t get enough of you,

"kook..."

your eyes rolled back,

"fuck,"

your hips rolled against his mouth, wanting and needing to feel more of him.

he didn't care if he suffocated, this was heaven for him.

he slipped one finger inside of you that you knew you couldn't take anymore.

"koo-"

you didn't even get to finish your sentence.

you came for the second time, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. your cum gushing into his mouth.

he moaned softly, his eyebrows knitted together,

"good girl,"

he repeated again and again.

his tongue moving faster, swallowing every single drop of your sweet cum.

he sucked hard on your clit before reluctantly removing his mouth from in between your legs.

you were weak. unable to move. unable to think. unable to process anything.

you felt so fucked out right now.

"you okay baby?"

he mumbled against you,

leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up from your collar bone to your lips.

he kissed you softly. slowly. savoring every second of it.

his hand ran down to your body to your slit.

he ran two fingers through your wet folds and couldn't stop himself from moaning.

"fuck."

he whispered.

your eyes slowly shut, you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment.

the state that jungkook would leave you in whenever he fucked you like this was beyond unexplainable.

and jungkook could say the exact same thing about you.

he saw you lying there, under him.

completely overwhelmed with pleasure.

he chuckled, glad to know that it was all because of him.

he nudged your side gently,

"feeling satisfied baby?"

you only managed a weak nod.

he smiled and buried his face in your neck,

"i fucking love you."

he breathed, tracing his finger up and down your cheek.

"and i fucking love that tattoo."

a/n: requested

© jeonful 2024, all rights reserved.

[aduh0308]

giving sub bsf gyu his first orgasm <3

warnings: sub!gyu, dom!reader, handjob, blowjob, perv!gyu, virgin!gyu, insinuates more sex after 

“f-fuck, n/n, feels s’—ah!—so good, w-wait, can’t, can’t, t’ much, too much!”  your best friend squirms underneath you as you coax your hand up and down the length of his dick. 

this was an interesting predicament, and you’re not sure how you even got here in the first place.

actually, you know exactly how you got here.

having your best friend over was absolutely normal, but spying him watching porn on his phone right next to you when you look over his shoulder was not. at least the content wasn’t too much, just guys getting simple handjobs, and you tap him on the arm. 

“want me to help you with that?” gesturing to the obvious bulge in his pants, you’re unsure what possesses you to ask.

but his eyes blow out wide and he’s spinning around to face you, cheeks pink. “fuck, dude, are you serious?”

you could laugh out loud at the expression on his face. eyebrows halfway up to his hairline, lips parted in pure surprise, and he swallows thickly while he waits for your response.

“yes, gyu, i’m serious. wouldn’t have offered if i wasn’t.”

and so, the pair of you ended up on his couch, you settled between his legs. beomgyu closes his eyes when you free his dick from the restraints of his pants. you’re silent— he opens his eyes with a pout. “is it bad?”

your eyes widen and you look up at him. “no, it’s just fine. not bad at all!” you’re quick to add the second part when he frowns, and his lips twitch up into a slight smile.

“wait—“ he stops you before you can move to touch him further. “i’ve… i’ve never..”

“never been jerked off?”

you knew your best friend was a virgin, but you expected him to at least have gotten a handjob before. he was hot, you’d be stupid not to notice, you have no idea how he’s never gotten laid.

his voice goes small. “never came before.”

it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “you’ve never had an orgasm before?” he nods and you scoff. “what kind of rock do you live under?”

beomgyu’s eyes go watery, and you’re quick to backtrack. “no, never mind, it doesn’t matter, fuck, i’ll give you your first, it’s fine.”

“can’t believe this is happening…” he mutters when you finally take the length of him in your hand. his head rocks back against the wall with a thunk at the simple contact of your skin with his. you can’t pretend to ignore the soft whimper that wrenches itself from your lips the second you thumb over his leaking tip.

you busy yourself with just that, watching the precum bead up over and over again after your finger swipes over his slit. every touch of your finger causes a slew of noises to fall from his lips, and beomgyu flicks the hair out of his face with a finger. 

“will you like… actually touch me, please?” beomgyu’s voice is a whisper, low and husky, a half octave below his regular tone, and something wrenches inside you.

“of course, gyu,” you hum, and take him in your mouth so suddenly he chokes on his own breath.

“wait, fuck, stop, stop, can’t!” you frown up at him but take him out of your mouth with a pop. “i’m sorry, bet you think i’m a fucking loser, can’t even get head without acting all a fool…” he hangs his head to his chest, and you press a line of kisses up his inner thigh.

“’s okay gyu, we can start slow, alright? don’t have to do too much too fast.”

“okay, maybe, um, just use your hand? for now?”

his bangs are plastered to his forehead as you nod, sliding your fist up and down the length of him. you kitty lick his tip every time it peaks through your hand, and your pretty best friend’s hips twitch upwards in response, little mewls falling from his lips.

“f-fuck, n/n, feels s’—ah!—so good, w-wait, can’t, can’t, t’ much, too much!”

you only smile up at him, actions continuing, and his hand grips your hair. “not gonna stop, gonna have you cum so good, mkay?”

he nods quickly, tears wetting his lashes, and you can see the exact moment before his orgasm hits him, face and neck flushed, stomach and thighs tensing, and the noise he makes when his cum paints your lips is purely out of a porno. 

you jerk off his softening dick, letting him ride out his high, and little squeaks keep leaving his lips every time the side of your fist meets his pelvis. finally, you look up at him, and holy fuck, does your best friend look good. sweat coating his form in a thin sheen, bare chest heaving up and down, thighs still trembling underneath your hands.

when he finally catches his breath, you smile up at him. “so? how was it?”

“fuck, insane, don’t know why I haven’t before…”

you slide up to sit beside him on the couch, sides pressed flush together, and you take his hand in yours, guiding it to your lower stomach. “‘m glad. think you’re ready to try it inside me this time?”

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

[sundew199]

Look so good

Tags: Reiner Braun x f!reader, cum play, cream pie, multiple orgasms, messy sex

Kinktober Day 10: cum play for @wintrrxxo

!!minors dni!!

"Shit that's good."

Reiner grunted from behind, releasing the grip he had on your plush cheeks, massaging them to relieve the bruising hold he had with his fingers while going in from behind. You were panting, sucking in deep breaths to get your heart rate back down to a normal speed after the absolute beating he gave to your pussy. You were so blissfully sore, thighs and biceps shaking from the strain of the position Reiner kept you in, feeling the relief that came from not arching your back anymore.

Flopping over on your side after he pulled out, you reached over for your phone while he went to grab a rag, scrolling through the missed messages and notifications that piled up. Didn't expect much less, given the two of you almost went for forty five minutes this time, unfortunately not even breaking a record.

"Spread your legs for me?" The request coming from beside you, Reiner holding a damp rag with one knee on the bed already, waiting for you to do as he asked. Slowly, ignoring the ache, you parted your legs just enough to clean the mess you and him made.

Setting your phone back on the bedside table, you waited for the warmth to touch your skin, needing the relief but still not feeling it after sometime, peaking one eye open to see what the hold up was.

He was gazing at the mess dreamily, like a work of art you'd see in a museum that just took your breath away. The rag wasn't even in his hand anymore, tossed to the side and soaking the comforter as it lay there unused.

"Reiner."

"Sorry just-" Practically moaning as he sighed his response, running the rough palms of his hands over your thighs and back down to your knees, itching with temptation that was so strong you could feel it in his touch. "Looks so good, wanna slide back in-."

You whined to drown out the end of his sentence, emphasizing the mere idea of him entering you would send you into overstimulation. But the way he looked and marveled at the sight of your cum and his leaking and smearing everywhere, made it all the more tempting.

"And do what?" Spreading your folds with two fingers, showcasing the milky white liquid flowing out of your hole, going the extra mile to push some of it back in, wincing from the sensitivity.

"Go again, obviously." Now moving to hover over you, one hand by the side of your head with the other gently trailing down your abdomen, closer and closer to your leaking cunt. Something about the way his cum leaked out of your used hole made Reiner feral, got him hard in a near instant if he stared for too long and that was the case now. "If you're up for it."

"Round two with no prep huh? Sounds intentional." Sneaking in a jab with your breathy response, watching the way his lips curled above you as his hand now hovered over yours parting your folds.

"Might be." Taking his middle finger to shove some of it back in, pressing a kiss to the center of your pinched brows, knowing it was a lot after just finishing minutes ago. A huff of air fanned over your face as he slowly shoved more of it inside, knowing his cum was deep inside and about to fuck more of it into you was making him weak, turning him greedy with wanting to fill you more than you already are.

"Can't help myself sometimes, ya know?" Breathing the words right into your ear, a rasp in his voice from how desperate he'd become from the mere idea of fucking his cum back into you and of course coming again. In a way it was addicting, you looked so good in everyday, whether it was leaking and smeared on your inner thighs or sporadically painted on your face and chest, Reiner couldn't get enough.

"Mm yeah I know." Laughing softly, letting a hand thread through the back of his hair as you peppered a few kisses to the side of his face, a small distraction as he worked in a second finger inside you to ease the linger ache and sensitivity. A small whine echoed in his ear as he took in a deep breath, pulling away from your face and sitting back on his knees, removing the cum soaked fingers to coat his cock. A groan that bordered on a sigh left his lips, his shaft sporting a milky sheen once more and he twitched in his own hand knowing it was a combination of both of your releases.

Moving to bend one of your legs at the knee, Reiner kissed the inside, sliding forward to tuck his arms behind your neck, press his bare chest to yours as the tip of his cock teased your entrance. He chuckled cumbersomely to hide the raging arousal inside him as he pushed the head past your tight ring of muscle, cracking a smile at your immediate arch and pitchy whine.

"God how do you feel even better sweetheart?" Asking to himself after he sheathed himself fully inside you, holding himself there for longer than normal, knowing he was going to cum faster no matter what.

You smiled after pulling his face back at bit, cupping your hands on either side of his face, clenching around him intentionally and drinking in the blissed expression and soft moan he gave. "Don't think I have an answer for you baby."

Reiner laughed under his breath at that, pulling his hips back only half way and pushing them forward, beginning a gentle rhythm to work his way up. You were already digging your nails into his freckled shoulder at the first thrust, so sensitive but feeling so good at the same time. Sensitivity had you writhing and arching from the start, instantly vocal with the way your pussy squelched and stretched around him, putting such a decadent display for the man above you.

"Hold still for me baby, can't keep it inside you like I want if you keep moving." Sounding rather stern as his hand came to hold you down at the hip, keeping you pinned to the bed and unable to squirm away.

"I'm trying just - fuck Reiner it's almost too much." Whining pitifully with a strain in your voice, dragging your nails down the meaty arms, leaving bright red streaks in the skin, turning something in Reiner's gut.

"You can take it," Cooing into your ear with such a seductive convincing, back to being inches from your face and running the tip of his tongue on the outer shell of your ear, making you shutter. He breathlessly laughed again when your hips rutted off the bed, trying to meet his deep long strokes and how your body reacted to the overstimulation. Oh what a sight you were for him, what a fucking sight.

His hips inevitably increased in pace after you came around him, juices mixing and smearing with the old and creating such a mess between the two of you, a mess that inflamed the fire of lust inside Reiner's gut. Making a mess with your cum and his was something he couldn't pass up, fucking his first orgasm back into your and filling you with another in the same span of time? Yeah Reiner would always find an excuse to do so.

"Such a mess, such a gorgeous mess all for me." Growling into your lips, snapping his hips hard into yours, rolling them in a circle and swallowing your whines. You were grappling every inch of his body, running your nails deep into his skin, where ever you could reach.

"Fuck - yes-" Forcing yourself to respond, repeatedly clenching around him as another orgasm was fast approaching, loosing count from the first round and this one, but knowing Reiner was keeping track.

"Want me to fill you up? Keep fucking my cum into this perfect pussy?" Asking as if the answer were far from the obvious, but wanting to hear your pretty voice tell him so.

"Mhm." Burying your face into the side of his neck, trembling against his body and to the point of tears.

"Can't hear you sweetheart." Hiding his smile in your hair, keeping the firm hold he had on your hip to snap his hips forward a couple more times.

"Yes please, want your cum, again." Whining into the sweaty skin on the side of his neck, releasing a long moan and hearing a similar response come from above,

Expecting him to pull back, Reiner surprised you when he didn't pressing his face harder into the side of your head and letting out shaky breaths that were followed by grunts and groans. Your bodies were so pressed together it was a wonder he was able to thrust into you as fast and hard as he was, but finding a way nonetheless.

"God just wanna keep you filled all the time, want you leaking for days baby." Sputtering out and giving away how close he was, simply nodding your head and whining his name, the tension in his body growing taunt with each thrust.

You muffled your sob into his neck still when you came again, feeling him pull away and hold both of your hips down, focusing on where his dick thrusted in and out of you and the absolute mess that was between you. His head fell back, jaw falling slack and his eyes squeezed shut as the final thrusts were slammed into your hips.

There was so much cum already you could barely notice the warmth of his second release filling you, and to no surprise that it immediately leaked out from the sides down his shaft and your inner thighs. Reiner huffed, wincing from his own sensitivity and overstimulation, waiting for his body to relax before pulling out.

Maybe you should've guess it when he snaked his arms under you, rolling you on top of him while still keeping himself inside. Greedy bastard he was.

Of course he reasoned with wanting to stay like this for just a moment longer and you had no energy to question him, shaking your head and pressing a lazy kiss to his lips.

Careful fingers ran up and down your spine, soothing you nearly to sleep if it weren't for the pulsing cock still inside you.

"Kinda stuff you see in porn." Amusing himself with his own comment, shamelessly smiling still even after you removed your head from his chest to give him a disapproving look.

"Filthy bastard, good god." Propping yourself on an elbow on the chisled chest you laid on, rolling your eyes with a small laugh.

"Yea, but who keeps fucking this 'filthy bastard' hm?" Cocking a brow and not missing the way tried to lift yourself off of him, immediately thwarted by the hand on your hip.

"About to be no one if you don't let me nap." Flopping back down with your face press to the center of his chest, the same hand that caressed up and down your back, giving a playful squeeze to your ass, choosing to ignore it for now.

"Mm, love you." Hearing him laugh under his breath, kissing the top of your head and the relaxation seep into his body and nothing bothering to move from the current position either of you were in, too tired to even try.

[dev1lm4n]

lesson one: sensitive

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.

word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me 🤲 COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it

“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”

Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather. 

At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite. 

Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t. 

At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.

“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”

Who was Mr. Miller to you again? 

Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.

Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.

“Someone promised to pick me up.”

That sure did sound ominous.

With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!

Where was Mr. Miller?

Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!

As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.

“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”

The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ‘Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.

“It was alright,” you hummed.

“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”

“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.

It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.

“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”

How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.

“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”

“Did he pick you up?”

Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”

“Did he at least get the door for you?”

“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“If you’re that curious, then no.”

“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”

“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.

“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”

“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”

He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening. 

There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.

“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”

Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.

The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.

“Because of the boy?”

“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”

You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.

“First time in what?”

“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.

“You’ve never dated?”

An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.

“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”

“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”

“Maybe,” you muttered.

“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”

Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.

You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.

“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” you persisted.

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.

“Sex.”

The pickup truck swerved.

To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?

“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”

“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”

The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.

“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”

A beat passed.

“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”

What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.

God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.

It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.

This was his lair.

Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.

A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.

“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest. 

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”

He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”

“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”

“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”

“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”

What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?

“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”

For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.

Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.

“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.

You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.

Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.

“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”

You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.

“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”

You nodded obediently.

“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”

You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.

“Good girl.”

His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”

This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.

“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”

“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”

Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.

Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.

You squirmed.

“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”

“O-oh please!”

“Please?”

You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.

“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”

“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”

Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.

“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”

It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.

You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”

By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.

“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.

“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”

“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.

“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.

“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”

Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping  eye contact.

“Please touch me.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.

“Please touch me again. It feels go-”

You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.

“Fuck, please, please, sir.”

Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.

“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”

“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.

“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll start now.”

“One, two..”

You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.

“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”

“From the start,” he ordered.

“One, two, three..”

You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.

“Four, five, six..”

Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.

“Seven, eight, n- nine!”

You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.

“Ten.”

The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.

He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”

What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips. 

“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”

He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.

“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”

“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”

“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”

“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.

[yowumi]

Roommate Giyu Tomioka x Reader (Smut)

warnings. masterbation, reader has an OF, they are both lowkey pervs but it’s okay, mostly just build up, MIGHT write a part 2, if this does good…

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A/N. kinda came up with this like right now and i’m writing from my ass so excuse it if it turns out absolutely buns. but let’s just trust the process for now, enjoy luv <3

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Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who started off hating the idea of a roommate, having to deal with other people in general felt hard enough, so having to live with another person wasn’t exactly on his wish list.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who worked long hours which benifits him in this case because by the time he got home, you were already asleep.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who tried his best to limit interactions between the both of you; not wanting to end up saying something rude or make things awkward by forcing a conversation. therefore, resulting in most of your interactions being by sticky notes left in the house or texts that were usually to let him know that you needed something for the house.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who didn’t have much experience with interacting with other people let alone woman. he wasn’t a virgin, of course he managed to get his dick wet every now and then after rough missions where he would get himself drunk enough to not think about it too much.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who didn’t have a high sex drive and could go months without even thinking about it, this habit wasn’t purposely, he just never really got around to it.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who learns from tengen what an onlyfans in after making a joking remark on how if he had lost his job, he would totally make a living off of doing that.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who finds no interest in finding out any more information about the website due to not feeling it’s right to look at peoples bodies like that.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who happens to have more days off recently and staying in the house more often, having to see and face you more often.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who starts to make small talk with you now that he has more time off and gets to know you better although realizing that he never got the chance to ask what you do for a living.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who brings this up eventually after a small conversation.

“i’ve uh been meaning to ask you, what is it that you do for a living? you seem to always be home” he says while facing the other way watching as the coffee filled his cup slowly.

“oh! well i uh actually do an online business…it helps me get by, ya know!” you say trying not to indulge in the conversation any further.

you could only imagine how mortified he would react to knowing about your only fans.

“ah i see” he says now facing towards you not realizing you had moved closer causing him to bump into you, dropping coffee all over your shirt.

“oh i’m sorry! i didnt mean to startle you!” you say as you look down at the mess on the ground, unfazed by the mess on your white shirt.

“that’s my fault, i should have been paying attention to my surroundings” he looks up to you after picking up the broken pieces of the coffee mug from the ground, now realizing how the spill on your shirt has caused your shirt to become nearly see through, as he takes a glimpse at your perky nipples peaking through, quickly turning his gaze away.

distracted by what he saw he managed to end up cutting his finger from the glass in his hand.

“oh are you okay! let me take a look at it!” you say softly grabbing his hand as you examine the cut before you do the unthinkable.

you put his finger in your mouth and licked the blood off.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who had never been the type to get a reaction out of, especially not a lewd one. which makes him confused why his pants suddenly feel tight when he feels your lips on his fingers.

you quickly realize what you are doing and quickly take your mouth away realizing it’s weird to do that to your roommate you barely know.

“oh my god- i’m so sorry! i don’t know what got into me, ill get you a band-aid! sorry again!” you say as you walk away to retrieve a band aid, embarrassed of your actions.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who goes to his room that night and takes a cold shower trying to wash away the thoughts of your lips out of his mind.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who now starts to notice how small your clothes are, now paying attention to the curve of your ass that can be revealed when you bend down in front of him or how your tits look like they’re about to spill out in those small tank tops you wear, noticing when you don’t wear a bra with the white ones, he can see your juicy nipple peaking out.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who finally returns to busy days at work becoming more tired and frustrated in not being able to see you. wondering why he even cared for doing so in the first place.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who comes home tired and late to the house being silent figuring you were definitely asleep by now.

it was a long day, he felt like he hasn’t relaxed in so long. he takes it upon himself to lay on his bed hoping to get much needed sleep. unfortunately for him, that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.

he tossed and turned until finally deciding to scroll on his phone before coming back to the conversation with tengen about only fans.

what better did he have to do right now?

after a few minutes after making an account he scrolls and sees plenty of woman revealing themselves in lingerie and nude, although none of them seemed to really catch his attention.

that was until one popped up in his suggested.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who’s heart stops when he sees your sweet innocent face on his screen, dressed in a short little white lingerie set that made his head spin.

without thinking he immediately subscribed, now interested in seeing more of you.

he felt his pants getting tight as he scrolled down the lewd pictures of his sweet roommate in not so sweet positions, feeling a throbbing ache in his pants.

his heart stops when he sees a message appear on his screen welcoming him and thanking him for subscribing.

kingofurwaters: how much for me to get you to myself, sweetheart?

it was out of character for him to act so lewd but he didn’t want to draw suspicion by acting how he would normally act.

you: of course handsome :p i can negotiate prices so just tell me how much your willing, can’t wait <3

he almost feels jealous at the fact that you text other men this way and treat your fans like this, but he tries to put it in the back of his head and pretend it’s only for him.

he tries to think of a good price to layout, he was new to this so he didn’t know what to expect.

kingofurwaters: 250 for 20 minutes with you? or should i aim higher for you, gorgeous?

she takes a while to type which leads giyu to believe maybe he aimed too low, he did hear that women made really good money on this app.

you: that sounds good !! could i make a request though if that’s okay with you of course baby :)

the nickname makes him feel warm but also noticeably sends blood from his brain to his cock that was starting to hurt from how hard it was.

it’s been so long since he’s been this aroused, come to think of it, he can’t even remember a time he’s been anywhere near this aroused. he almost feels as if he could cum just from seeing and talking to you from a screen.

kingofurwaters: spit it out pretty

you: can we make it 40 minutes instead? you offered a lot of money so if you can keep up with me then i would hope to give you the best expedience.

his face lightens.

kingofurwaters: of course, anything for you, is now okay?

and with that and talking him through how to do the call through zoom, he finally sees her.

shes wearing a soft pink lingerie set matched with pink and white panties with a bow in the front. he felt that as of now, it had to have been impossible to be harder than he already was.

throughout the whole session, he watched her, the way she moves, and all without her taking the set she had on, off. he didn’t show himself due to not wanting her to recognize his surroundings.

He palmed himself and came three times that night.

for the first time in giyu tomioka’s life…

he was grateful for tengen’s stupidity.

the next morning he rushed out the door trying to avoid any contact with you and heading straight out the door for work. He was never one to mind going to work but he was eager to go home. He was eager to text and look at you through his phone.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who comes home late once again expecting a quiet house although he’s surprised when he finds you cooking.

“oh your home, how was work tomioka?” you asked, giving him those sweet doll eyes that made his heart race.

“was fine, why are you up?” he asks

“couldn’t sleep and then i got hungry, would you like some?”

he looks down to see the fried rice that looked tempting but he pushes the yummy smell out of his thoughts.

“no thank you, enjoy though” he says before waving you off and brushing himself past you, giving you a small rub on your head in affection as he excuses himself to his room.

he looks on his phone to go straight to your page although he seems surprised as your title of your latest video uploaded an hour ago.

finding your cute roommate touching herself on your bed

his heart stopped noticing his bedroom in the thumbnail. she couldn’t possibly know, right?

fuck.

has she done this before?

he scrolls down on her videos and finding that some of her past videos were also in his room at some point. he also started to realize many videos were captioned with “roommate”. perhaps she had a little kink?

not that he minded. his hard dick straining against his sweatpants sure as hell didn’t mind one bit.

he clicked the video listening to your sweet pants and moans were blasted through his earphones.

he palmed his dick through his sweatpants trying his best not to mutter your name like he did when you were asleep.

he keeps at this motion, teasing his dick through his pants feeling overwhelmed with the image of you fucking yourself on his bed.

he is so close when he hears it.

he hears it, slightly audible.

“g-giyu…”

he almost felt as if he was hearing things, rewinding it over and over again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.

but no, he heard right.

precum began leaking through his swollen tip as he pulls his hard cock out of his pants desperately stroking down his long shaft. that was all he needed to hear.

“f-fuck” he groans out hoping you didn’t hear him as cum seeps through his fingers.

kingofurwaters: need you now. is it okay if we meet up? i’ll pay however much money, just need you now baby

he sends her 3k up front, how could she deny?

she agreed and sent him her address, or perhaps their address.

you: my roommate works hard though so we need to be quiet, don’t want to wake him up :(

always so considerate for him.

he couldn’t take it anymore, with shirt off and now only in his sweatpants he made his way to your bedroom before stopping at the door.

what was he thinking? he couldn’t just go in there and fuck the life out of her. he also couldn’t admit that he was watching her but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she was anymore innocent.

giyu takes too long thinking before he finds you opening the door startled and cheeks flushed as your eyes roamed his toned body.

you knew giyu was in shape but lord was he fine.

“oh uh giyu what are you doing here..?” she said nervously, trying her best not to make eye contact with the noticeable bulge poking through his sweatpants.

“i uh uh” shit.

he tries to think of a good explanation, what the hell could save him from this right now.

“oh hold on just one moment giyu, i just need to text someone real quick!” you say almost worried which sent him clueless, who the hell-

ding.

fuck.

that was his phone. you send him a look and look over at his phone to see your message notification.

your eyes go wide.

but not as wide as his.

notification: you: is it okay if we reschedule baby?

he looks up at you and your looking down and you look ashamed before tears roll down your face.

“i’m so sorry, i knew i shouldn’t have posted those videos or even have been doing those things in your room, i’m so sorry giyu, i understand if you want to kick me out or confront me…” you say in sobs.

he laughs.

why was he laughing? did he find this amusing? or maybe he was happy that he caught you.

“i’m sorry-“ you were cut off by him leaving a kiss on your lips. a kiss? did he just give you a peck?

“that isn’t why i’m here, sweetheart.” he says as he watches your expressions change in a confused manner, he leans in to kiss your forehead and comforting you, whiping away the tears.

you realize and you look up at him as if he was an angel sent down to earth.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who made love to you until morning, no longer feeling shy around his sweet neighbor.

. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

A/N. i have no knowledge on OF or how much they make so excuse me if this isn’t very accurate but most people i see online who have an OF are always balling so i assume they are making bank LMAO, i was originally planning on writing smut at the end but if i’m being honest…i’m not very good at writing actual smut but i enjoy writing the build ups because TENSION >>> anyways i hope you guys enjoyed

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[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 4

I know I said I was going to wait on posting this one, but it's got the most backlogged chapters so I figured I can at least put out this one for you.

It's extra long, like amount 1000 words longer than my usual. But I didn't want to stop half way through a specific section.

An elf gets his ears, Robin freaks out a bit, and everyone gets a little called out about their pre-conceived notions, but especially Mike.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The day had arrived and Claudia had offered to help get them all there, as Eddie’s van was full and Robin still didn’t have her license. She was in driver’s ed right now, thankfully. Her parents didn’t want her going to college without knowing how.

So Dustin, Will, El, and Mike went with Claudia and Robin, Max, and Lucas went with Steve.

Dustin had wanted to go with Steve, but it didn’t make sense as his mom was the other driver. So he pouted all the way to pick up his friends, but by the time Claudia had picked up Mike Dustin was vibrating in the front seat.

Lucas was picked up last.

He still didn’t have his ears so he looked crestfallen when he answered the door. He was wearing the pirate outfit he had told Steve he had.

“He’s being a piss baby,” Erica muttered. “Something about ears.”

“Erica Jean!” Mrs. Sinclair hissed. “We do not talk about your brother that way.”

Erica crossed her arms and pouted.

“Actually, Mrs. Sinclair,” Steve said with a smile. “I have a solution, but I’m going to need your help.”

Both Lucas and Erica perked up at that. Steve patted his pocket with a wink.

“Of course!” Mrs. Sinclair beamed. “I told you Steve and Eddie were going to come through for you, didn’t I?”

Lucas blushed. “Yes, Mom.”

“Where do we need to be, Steve?” she asked.

“The bathroom would be the best place.”

She nodded and led the way, Lucas in the middle and Steve bringing up the rear.

Steve sat Lucas on the toilet seat and pulled out the thin box Eddie had given him. He opened it up so Mrs. Sinclair could see it first.

“Ooh!” she cooed. “I know just what we need. I’ll be right back.”

Steve turned around so Lucas could see them.

Lucas gasped. “Holy shit! What are they made of?”

“Silicone.”

“Do we need anything to affix the ears, Steve?” Mrs. Sinclair asked from her bedroom. “I have makeup glue if we need.”

“That’s fine, Mrs. Sinclair,” Steve called back. “I have spirit gum.”

She peaked around the corner. “Oh that’s even better!” She had her makeup bag in her hands.

“Actually Lucas,” Steve said eyeing the makeup bag. “Go change into your costume. I don’t want to smear makeup on your costume or accidentally knock off one of the ears and have to start all over.”

Lucas leapt to his feet and dashed out of the room.

“It was really nice of you to do all this for him,” Mrs. Sinclair told Steve in the wake of her son’s cartoon speed cloud. “It’s really made him feel special. To stand out in a way that feels good for a change.”

Steve smiled back at her. “He’s a good kid. It was great that I got to do something nice for him.”

Lucas came back a few minutes later, a blanket covering his costume. When his mom and Steve raised an eyebrow at him he blushed.

“I was worried about the makeup getting on the costume,” he admitted shyly.

Steve patted his shoulder. “I would have put a towel over it. A mom approved towel. I don’t think she’s going to approve that blanket.”

“Absolutely not!” She took off the blanket and handed them a ratty old towel to drape over Lucas’s shoulders.

“Thanks Mrs. S.,” Steve murmured and got to work. He applied the ears and then swapped with Mrs. Sinclair.

She applied makeup to the silicone to blend them to Lucas’s ears.

“All done!” she said triumphantly.

Steve whipped off the towel and pulled Lucas to his feet. He closed the door so that they could use the full length mirror that was on the back. He put his hands over Lucas’s eyes and gently steered him toward the door.

“You ready?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Lucas croaked.

Steve uncovered his eyes.

Lucas stared in the mirror for a moment or two.

“Baby?” Mrs. Sinclair asked. “Do you like it?”

Tears streamed down his face as he nodded. “I’m an elf, Mom...”

She hugged him tightly. “Yes you are, sweetie. And the best looking elf at the fair, no doubt.”

He nodded and then wiped his tears.

“How did you do this?” he asked Steve.

Steve smiled. “Jeff makes them.”

Lucas’s jaw dropped. “Oh.”

Mrs. Sinclair cocked her head to the side. “Who’s Jeff?”

“Mom!” Lucas hissed. “I like talk about him all the time! He’s the other black member of Hellfire!”

“Ah,” she said with a smile. “You talk about so many of those boys, I get them mixed up sometimes. But I’m happy he was able to help my baby out.”

Lucas rushed out to show the girls who gasped and oohed over Lucas’s outfit.

“How much did you have to pay for those, Steve?” she asked gently. “They can’t have been cheap.”

Steve shook his head. “Jeff did them for free because he knew what it was like to be told no just because of the color of his skin. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

She nodded and the two of them wandered out into the front room.

“Steve!!” Erica screeched. “I didn’t know you could sew like this!” She waved at Lucas. “What the hell?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “You could have come, and maybe would have gotten a cool outfit too. Too late now.”

Erica gasped, wide-eyed that Steve would call her out like this.

Mrs. Sinclair patted her daughter on the head. “You’re the one that wanted to sleep over at Tina’s this weekend, sweetie. Maybe next year.”

Erica couldn’t deny her mother’s logic and was forced to concede. “Fine, but just know I’m going to be grumpy about it.”

Mrs. Sinclair kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “I know, dear.”

“Come on,” Max said, “we’ve admired Lucas long enough, I want to go to this fair, please.”

Lucas and Steve shared a glance. “Uh-oh. She said please, we better go before she gets really mad.”

Max rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

Mrs. Sinclair bit her lip as she struggled not to tell the girl off for her language.

Max and Lucas piled into the backseat while Robin and Steve slid upfront.

*

The closer they got to the where the Renaissance Fair was being held, the more nervous Robin got.

“Steve?” she questioned. “Why are we heading to the burned down mall?”

Steve grinned. “We aren’t.”

Robin bit her lip. “No,” she mumbled. “I rode my bike on this road every day to get to work. This is the way to Starcourt.”

Lucas and Max leaned forward to see the road ahead of them.

“I think she’s right,” Max concluded. “This is the way to Starcourt.”

They pulled into the makeshift parking lot of the fair. It was pretty much a dust field with people in medieval getups directing traffic.

Steve pulled in where he was directed and they all piled out of the Bimmer.

They stood looking out at the field where Starcourt once stood, but was now a bustling center of outdoor activity.

“What the hell?” Robin gasped. “Where is the mall?”

Steve grinned. “This piece of land was always used for passing carnivals and the Renaissance Fair every year. When the mayor sold it to the Russians to build the mall it put a stop to a lot of summer activities the town once enjoyed. So after the earthquake they bulldozed the area and put back the way it was.”

“What did they do with the underground bunker?” Max asked, vaguely interested.

Steve scratched his cheek. “Filled it with uh, cement.”

Lucas and Max shared an appreciative glance and even Robin nodded.

Steve was the first to spot the rest of their group. Dustin, Mike, Will and El were waiting in neat little cluster for them.

Lucas tugged on the hem of his gambeson and ducked his head. Max looked over at him and rolled her eyes.

“They aren’t going to care,” she hissed.

Steve glared at her. “There has been evidence to the contrary regarding this very thing, so zip it.” He mimed zipping his mouth closed.

Max stared at him wide-eyed in shock. Robin tugged on her sleeve.

“Come on,” she told the younger girl. “Let’s got meet up with the others.”

Max huffed but did as she was told without protest.

Steve put his hands on Lucas’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Look, I don’t know how you feel. I can never know how you feel, but let me tell you something that those buttheads will probably never understand because they aren’t like you and me.”

Lucas nodded.

“Being a ‘nerd’ as they call it is not the be all end all of existence,” Steve said. “You can have interests outside of theirs. I know they gave you shit for joining the basketball team, but you are a good player, maybe even a great one if you keep at it. You won’t have the same experiences that they will and that’s okay.”

“But what if we stop being friends?” Lucas asked, his voice breaking.

“It’s going to suck for awhile,” Steve confirmed. “It won’t be easy and it will hurt sometimes when you least expect it, but you’ll make new friends with your same interests as long as you continue to be you.”

Lucas took in a deep breath and let out slow. “You’re friends were assholes though.”

Steve laughed. “And Mike isn’t?”

A small sunny smile peeked out from under Lucas’s cloud of worry. “Yeah, all right.”

They started walking toward the group with Steve’s arm slung over Lucas’s shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” Steve told him as they got close. “And know I will kick his ass if he says anything.”

Lucas huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Steve.”

They reached the crowd of their friends and waited for their reaction.

“Holy shit!” Will said. “That is an epic costume!”

And then Lucas fully reached the group and ears could be seen.

“What are you supposed to be?” Mike asked with a sneer. “There aren’t any black characters with pointy ears.”

Dustin scoffed. “He could be a Vulcan. There was a black Vulcan in ‘Search for Spock’!”

“That movie was so bad, dude,” Mike huffed. “It doesn’t count.”

“It totally counts,” Dustin protested. “It’s considered canon, therefore it counts.”

“I’m not a Vulcan,” Lucas said proudly, sticking out his chest, “I’m an elf ranger.”

“Are you a Drow then?” Mike asked. “You do know Drows are evil right?”

Dustin and Will’s jaws drop in shock and outrage.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “His skin isn’t literally black!”

Steve leaned over to the girls. “Does anyone know what a draw or whatever is?”

Lucas turned to Steve. “It’s a race of elves that live in the underdark, deep below where even the dwarves dare to delve. They’re straight up evil and very matriarchal.”

“Well that’s sexist,” Robin said putting her hands on her hips.

Mike rolled his eyes turned back to Lucas. “Well you can’t be Silvain elf, because they’re pale skinned and beautiful.”

“I’m a wood elf,” Lucas said, “my skin matches the woods around me, so I can blend in easier.”

Mike crossed his arms. “Show me one other dark skinned elf that isn’t you and maybe I’ll allow it.”

Just then a large van pulled up to the entrance in a skid, blaring metal music.

The four men got out and everyone was looking at them in stunned silence.

Eddie was dressed as a minstrel, wine dark puffy sleeves and leggings with a black tunic and boots. Gareth was a magic user in long, flowing purple robes that stopped two inches from the ground and beautifully carved wizard’s rod with a deep purple crystal in its grasp. Brian was a fighter with a metal sword at his hip and dressed in actual leather armor. Then the Party saw Jeff. He was dressed all in black with tight leggings, a short tunic and a black silk shirt that was covered by a short cloak. He had two silver daggers tucked into the tops of his thigh high boots.

He dropped the hood on his cloak to reveal that yes, Mike, he too had elf ears.

Jeff spotted Lucas and threw out his arms. “My kinsman! I greet you!”

Lucas turned and bowed low and Steve was forced to turn away to hide the smile at Mike’s stunned expression.

“Lord Kelnic,” Lucas greeted. “I understand these were a gift from you?” He rubbed the tip of one of the ears.

Jeff ran up to him. “Dude! How did you get them to match so well? I’ve tried every kind of glue to make them look like actual ears.”

Lucas blushed. “My mom used her makeup kit to blend the two.”

Jeff turned to the rest of Corroded Coffin. “And why didn’t we think of that?”

Gareth and Brian just shrugged.

Eddie on the other hand looked sheepish. “Because I thought makeup was just for girls?”

Jeff rolled his eyes and turned back to Lucas. “I’ll borrow my sister’s makeup for tomorrow. Can’t have shoddy looking ears next to my ranger kinsman.”

Lucas laughed.

Brian nudged Gareth in the ribs. “What’s Mike’s problem?”

Corroded Coffin all turned as one to see that Mike was standing there between El and Will looking like a rug had been pulled out from under him.

El patted Mike on the shoulder. “My mom says that people who judge someone by anything other than the content of their character are either too young to know better, or are immature. Grow better.”

She turned and started for the line that would grant them entrance to the Fair.

Lucas looked over at Steve and the two of them tried not to laugh at the absolute gobsmacked expression on Mike’s face.

“I’m not being racist!” he huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not!” He looked around at all his friends, but none of them looked even remotely like they agreed with him. “He’s black so he should be black characters!”

Brian reared his head back. “Dude, how is that not racist?”

Mike looked around again panicked. “It just isn’t!”

Jeff walked up to him and looked him straight in the eye. A feat that was a little hard for most of his friends these days with how tall he’d gotten.

“There’s this thing, Mike,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “called casual racism. It’s where all your upbringing and prejudices come out in casual ways instead of saying things like nigger and that blacks should be separate from whites. It’s oh he can’t play that character, the character is white. He can’t be an elf, elves are white. That’s casual racism and you better check it before it ruins a damn good friendship.”

Jeff stared him down until Mike was nodding his agreement. He turned to Will and Dustin.

“I wasn’t here at the start of this conversation,” he said, “but you two need to be better at calling out Mike’s bullshit. Because a few years on, he should be better not worse.”

Dustin and Will gave confused glances at each other.

Jeff scoffed. “Lucas told me all about the lovely little Ghostbusters incident. He straight up told you he wasn’t going to be Winston, but Mike here assumed he wasn’t going to be anyway because he’s black. So the fact that here we are and he’s still being a racist asshole?”

“We do call him out,” Will said. “And I wasn’t here for almost a year, I don’t know what happened in that year, but yeah he got worse.”

Dustin shrugged. “I don’t know either, man. Don’t look at me.”

Steve stepped forward. “I think you do know, Dustin and I was really disappointed when I heard about it.”

Dustin looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“After all, what’s a little casual racism when Lucas ‘betrayed’ you by joining the basketball team?” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest.

The older members of The Hellfire Club looked chastised. Because they had all given Lucas shit for that.

“You still have time to course correct,” Steve said. “But make no mistake, any kind of bullying, is still bullying. Whether it’s about the color of their skin, the games they play, or the type of school subject they like.”

He pointed at Robin. “Band and orchestra is still people getting together and playing instruments like a metal band.” Eddie winced hard and shoved a lock of his hair in front of his face.

“Playing a sport is no different than DnD, planning, keeping track of stats, and working together are hallmarks of both.” Dustin and Mike shared a grimace and even Gareth and Brian looked uncomfortable.

“Being a genius at math or science doesn’t make you better than someone who is a genius at history or literature.”

To which everyone but Robin and Max looked at their feet. Because they had all made that mistake with Steve before this all started.

“I think we will all need to unpack some pretty garbage baggage,” Steve concluded. “But!”

All the heads shot up.

“We are here for a good time,” Steve said holding up his hand, “and as long as Mike apologizes to Jeff and Lucas I think we can move past this and enjoy ourselves today. Agreed?”

Everyone murmured their agreement, punctuated with nods. Mike looked down at his feet and kicked at a pebble.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I wasn’t trying to be racist. I’ll try to be better.”

Steve looked over at Jeff and Lucas and they both gave him a thumbs up.

“Great!” Steve said cheerfully. “Now let’s get this show on the road!”

“Dirt path maybe,” Robin grumbled. “It’s like an old western out here. I swear to god Steve if I see a tumbleweed I am out of here.”

Steve laughed as they all met El in line.

Now that the heavy stuff was out of the way, it was time for some good fun.

****

My favorite line was El's "...Grow better." Because there is nothing more stinging then your girlfriend telling you to stop being an ass.

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

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[annoyinglandmagazine]

So I did Classical Studies in secondary school which was a fairly obscure subject, there were only nine of us in the class and we were all super into it.

Just for context here I’m talking about the class I was in from first to third year, between the ages of 13 and 16 for people with different education systems. We read the Iliad as part of course and it was really dense and when I tell you none of us could hear the word simile today without flashbacks to notating pages after pages of Homer comparing the way people walked to lions……

Anyway, it was a nightmare to read but we loved it.

We came out of those three years having forgotten most of the history of the Roman Empire but we all knew that Paris was a little bitch good for nothing but his looks, Achilles and Patroclus were definitely gay, Achilles was also a little bitch but we love him for it, Hector and Andromache deserved better and, most importantly, Agamemnon was a complete and utter douchebag who deserved everything he got and Clytemnestra was absolutely right to stab him to death in a bathtub, seriously fuck that guy.

We were so invested in this subject that we finished the curriculum early two years in a row and each year our teacher decided that we could put on a play related to the subject to fill out the last two months or so.

Naturally we settled on Troy Story 1 and Troy Story 2 detailing the Birth of Paris through to Achilles returning Hector’s body to Priam in two 40 minute instalments.

Absolutely no one of the forty people who wandered in by accident to witness our work of art understood a single second of what was going on or why we were all restrained laughter at what was basically eighty minutes of obscure classics in jokes. It was glorious. I recently found the script and I wanted to share the chaos.

Highlights included:

Jesse’s Girl playing over Helen and Paris’ introduction while she’s married to Menelaus.

So much unnecessary use of the word bro. Just so much.

Zeus and Hera narrating while passive aggressively bickering for every second of it. The gods constantly saying ‘do you want to get involved in some human drama’ to rope each other in

The extreme dramatic build up to the use of the word dog

Agamemnon speaks like a frat boy the whole time, like the biggest douche ever.

Achilles lifting Hectors body and dragging it around in slo mo while we are the champions plays

Achilles watching the war from his blanket burrito while eating popcorn out of his helmet

The shepherd who found Paris on a mountainside holding him up while the Lion King music played over it

Achilles’ trashy blonde wig. I cannot stress enough how trashy and blonde this wig was. Also Achilles was deliberately cast as the shortest girl in the class (5’ 3).

Odysseus and Diomedes night mission had mission impossible music playing over it as we parkoured across the stage and peaked out behind curtains. They also have dialogue in which they constantly want to stab something

Paris never appears in the sequel but is dissed constantly

We couldn’t do any actual Patrochilles cause Catholic school but we settled for prolonged eye contact to My Heart Will Go On and long pauses after dramatic references to My Closest Companion

Achilles: I need my best bro friend! My life soulmate! My favourite cook!

Achilles in the tent with headphones on listening to All By Myself with mascara streaming down his face after Patroclus died

The facts that Agamemnon killed his daughter and Zeus and Hera are siblings is constantly just kind of dropped in with no context

Everyone’s costumes were mostly just lab coats tied over our shoulders with shared armour from the one girl that apparently had a closet full of Ancient Greek style plastic swords, helmets and breastplates.

We spent an entire class making a giant pink tv frame out of cardboard, paper and way too much sellotape for one joke that wasn’t even that funny. We named it Daniel.

Briseis was an American Girl doll.

The gods yelling at each other to try and pick teams and resulting in a slap fight with an announcement that it lasted 3 hours.

Thetis yelling encouragement from the side lines and calling Achilles her little crib lizard for some reason also she’s reading Song of Achilles in one of her scenes

[shadow0214]

I watched Deadpool and Wolverine yesterday. What a movie, I loved it so much!! And, of course, my mind came up with a little scenario hehe.

Wolverine x reader

"What do you think (Name)?" Elektra asked without taking her eyes from the two men.

You had been hiding in the shadows since Wade and the new Logan had arrived to your home, listening to them speak with the rest of the group.

You walked out of the shadow and stood beside Laura, she smiled when you appeared.

"I have not a say in this really, I think is great if you guys take Cassandra out, but I'll be watching from afar." You answered.

"And who might you be?" Wade asked, you had a Deadpool in your universe too, he was way less talkative than this one.

"Logan can tell you that" You chuckled.

"I have no fucking idea who you are" He said with a confused look in his face.

"Maybe you didn't know me in your universe because I came after what happened when the humans attacked" You replied with a sad smile. When you had arrived at the TVA, they had shown you all other possible timelines and all your other variants, you were the only one that lost control completely and killed most mutants at the academy. You were absolutely horrified by that so you stopped using the full extent of your powers when you got to The Void, you only used them to get away from that maniac Cassandra, but once you arrived to that place you mostly kept a low profile.

"How the fuck did you know about that?" Logan growled.

"TVA showed me, and most of us know you are the 'worst' wolverine" you said using airquotes.

He just growled again. It was weirdly fun listening to him do that, you remembered when your Logan would do that when he didn't agree with you.

After that, you just sat down and kept listening to them argue about if they were going or not, eventually they agreed, but Logan went out without saying a word.

The first one to follow him out was Laura, they all knew they had a better chance of pulling this off with him, but he wasn't really going to help.

You followed Laura but kept your distance while she spoke with Logan trying to convince him to help them kill Cassandra. After a few minutes she left him again and came back to the house.

"I did my part, maybe you can help us out a little" She said begging you with her eyes while you were leaning on the front of the house.

You sighed at her request but got up and walked to where he was.

You got to the bonfire and sat near him about an arm’s length from him.

"What do you want?" He said taking a sip of the bottle of liquor he had with him.

"You know? I killed my wolverine" You said looking at your feet with regret. He looked at you, you had peaked his interest.

"I lost control of my powers and ended up killing you. You and I were a couple in my universe." You said with a sad smile.

"So...I was good in your universe?" Logan asked.

"Well...You were you." You smiled at him. " Same old Logan, with your short temper and your sarcastic remarks".

"You remind me of him."

"Well, I'm not him" He said a little disappointed.

You just chuckled sadly and stood up. He mimicked you, and you ended up face to face. He actually found you quite beautiful even though it was his first time meeting you.

"Life has been cruel to you, hasn't it?" You said touching his face barely with your fingers. You noticed him relaxing a little and pushed for more skin contact. Now your whole hand was holding his face, he didn't move, he just stared at you.

"They really need your help" You continued, gently caressing his cheek.

"How about you? They asked for your opinion on the matter" Logan asked getting closer to you.

"I would be a hindrance, if a lose control again you'd be fighting two annoyingly strong mutants" You hummed.

"Maybe I could take you down this time" Logan said, holding your waist with both his hands. You missed the feeling of him holding you like this, you missed his touch, his presence, everything about him.

"You know why you didn't survive my attack? I control darkness in every form, I left some in your body and you couldn't regenerate, your body tried but it was impossible with that inside it" You said getting closer to his lips.

He chuckled and held you harder.

"Now you are at my mercy though, I could kill you with one move if I wanted to" He whispered.

"I get my energy through darkness, even if you hurt me, I would be able to heal myself, don't forget it's nighttime. I'm stronger at night" You replied gently touching your lips with his.

You let out a breath that was caught in your chest and pulled away. Logan looked at you with a frown.

"I'll wait for you here, I know you will be able to end her, no problem" You said patting his chest with your hand. "Just be careful, ok?" and with that you gave him a kiss on the corner of his lips and disappeared in the shadows.

You knew they were going to be fine; He was going to be fine.

[eruanee]

On Round 7 and the utility of sacrifice

⚠️ ROUND 7 SPOILERS ⚠️

I wanted to use this post to respond to some criticism I've seen circulating about Round 7 — it mostly being about Till's death making Ivan's sacrifice useless.

To be fair, this post doesn't aim to dismiss anyone's feelings or criticisms about R7 or Till's (presumed) death, they're all incredibly valid! I even have my own that I will talk about later. This post's only goal is really just to start a conversation about the general narrative of ALNST and how to write a compelling narrative in general. No matter what I'll say, people resonate with stories differently and expect different things from them, and that's okay!

Personally, I truly didn't expect Till to die. Before R7 came out, I even texted a friend saying this:

– If one of them has to die, I think it'll be Luka. Till's protagonist syndrome is too strong and his death would be narratively flat, I believe. – Yeah.

And well, shot missed, unlike the one that shot through Till's neck.

Though, I really do believe Till might not be dead, not only because of the #copium but this isn't really the point of this post — I will assume he is so I can discuss what his death would actually mean to the narrative and how it would impact it.

I understand that no one (including myself) expected R7 to go that way. A lot of it had us realizing we might have gotten some elements of the story wrong — something I didn't take into consideration is that the round was probably rigged to make sure Luka would win, which makes sense because of course that Alien Stage isn't the fairest competition (and if Ivan's pictures on the billboards aren't part of Till's hallucinations, this is plainly evil).

R7 also had us wondering what the goal of the rebels truly is: did they even intend to save Till? If not, why did they save Mizi, what did they see in her? Unlike what I first thought, like many others, it seemingly wasn't a rescue mission.

When I watched R7 for the first time, I audibly gasped the moment I saw the "Luka wins" sign appears and Till being shot down. And I thought "Ah, so that's the kind of story VIVINOS wanted to make." I was already a huge fan of their work before ALNST began, mostly of their horror stuff. When I watched it, I knew I was about to sit in front of absolutely devastating content that would leave me sick. The tragedy was always cruel, often unrewarding, but I would always ask for more. Good thing ALNST now exists, uh!

I mention this to state I went into ALNST expecting roughly the same thing and it's essentially what I got. I didn't expect Till to die but his death, in a way, didn't surprise me. Did it make me sick though? It sure did!

I do agree R7 feels incomplete. I think it's interesting that I have not a single idea of what's going to happen next, but my biggest regret is indeed that Till's death doesn't seem to do justice to his character or characterization.

Till, the rebellious misfit, always breaking rules to the point he has to be physically restrained, completely beaten by despair and trauma once again, dying on stage after he got a slight glimpse of hope he can never actually reach.

This is peak tragedy, and a beautifully animated one at that, but it doesn't feel like a compelling character development. If Till is truly dead, then he dies with the potential of being so much more. And this is truly sad and disappointing.

And this is why his death would make me sadder than Sua's or Ivan's. They got to choose their deaths and what it would mean for them, Till didn't. He was suffering and overwhelmed. He only accepted his fate because he got to know Mizi was still alive before his final moments. He got to die in her embrace, which is probably the only thing he could've asked for if that were to happen.

Sua's death got to introduce us to the reality of Alien Stage.

Ivan's death was an emotional climax. It conclused his character arc in a devastating way, but gave him a meaningful ending nonetheless.

Their deaths let us understand what kind of world Alien Stage takes place in : a cruel world where humans are pets to aliens, if not simple disposal. A world where feelings are never reciprocated until it's too late, where you long for something impossible until you realize you should've paid attention to what was right in front of your eyes, too.

Alien Stage is a show where the candidates' suffering are seen and consumed as mere entertainment.

In this system, I believe Sua's and Ivan's meaningful deaths are anomalies. Till's death is the standard. An extremely unfair event, result of an extremely unfair competition. This isn't about who deserves to survive, but about who manages to. If anything, I think the aliens are relieved Till is dead, as he was mostly a bother to them. Luka is beloved and accommodating.

A world where death is the easy escape, if not almost a selfish one. Sacrifice is an act of love, but also an act of egocentricity. The sacrifice aims to be remembered as selfless and generous, but in the end, they only "run away without any sense of responsibility". The gift sounds beautiful when actually, it might only be rotten.

In such a world, how can a sacrifice ever be useful? I guess Ivan's wasn't. A sacrifice only happens to create a possibility, a chance, a what if.

Another very frustrating part of Till's death to me is that I thought he had the power to be a protagonist. I still stand by it but he was robbed of this agency. Him being used as a narrative device for Mizi's protagonist plotline (at least that's what I believe) feels a bit cruel, even narratively.

Alien Stage can be a frustrating story because it seems there is no way out, which is ultimately not something people are seeking for very often in a story. I still hope there's a way out somewhere, maybe not for Till, but that would already be something.

As for now, it seems Mizi's role is to manage to make Sua's sacrifice, as well as all of these deaths, worth something. This is the 50th season of Alien Stage. The pile of corpses is leaking red.

I do wonder where the story is going to head.

At the very least, Till wasn't unknown till the end. You could say that being loved, even for a blink, makes one's life worthy to be lived.

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Thirty-One - One Flew Over

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Racism (New, This Chapter) Suicidal Ideation, Psychiatric Wards, Forcible Sedation, Depiction of a Suicide Attempt

A/N: Welp, splitting this chapter ended up doing a whole lot of good - this second part of it ended up being over 25k words 😅 Anyway, hope it was worth the wait!

Read Full on AO3

[excerpt]

Shuichi Iguchi had had more than a few roommates during his time at Jaku Hospital’s Psychiatric Ward. Some better than others. Some way worse. He tried not to judge them by first impressions, nobody was at their best when they came in here after all.

That being said, his first impression of his newest roommate was particularly hard to ignore.

“Let me the fuck out of here!! You can’t fucking keep me here!!” he screamed as he pounded hard on the door, aiming repeatedly for the impact-resistant glass window, “I’m fucking serious! Call Sensei! He didn’t mean it! Fucking call him !!!”

The door finally opened, just a crack, enough for one of the orderlies to peak in and scold him.

“Shigaraki-san, if you keep this up we’re going to have to relocate you to the quiet room. You’re agitating the other residents.”

“Just try it bitch! I’ll relocate your fucking jaw!” he screamed right back in her face.

The orderly promptly shut the door on him, Iguchi guessed to go and grab some backup to help restrain the man he now knew as Shigaraki.

Iguchi frowned as he watched him pound and howl his already hoarse voice away at the door. As violently angry and coarse as he was, Iguchi couldn’t exactly blame the guy. It was well after dinner at the time they threw Shigaraki in here, quiet and bed hours, the only time they were locked in these rooms. Most other times they had decently free range of the ward. But of course, if this was all the  newbie had seen so far, there was no way for him to know that.

Maybe if Iguchi explained a little about the schedule here, he might calm down a bit…

“Th-They um…” he started hesitantly, “They lock the doors at night—”

Iguchi didn’t even get a full sentence out before Shigaraki whipped around and spat, “You think I can’t see that?! Mind your own business you fucking hafu !”

…

Okay, yeah no. He had absolutely nothing to say to that.

Iguchi was bad at confrontation even on a good day. And he had a feeling that if he poked his roommate too hard, he would make this a very not good day.

Er, night.

So he just watched the guy pound his fists tender against the door for a few more seconds, before laying down in his bed on his side. Accepting his miserable fate of listening to that shrill, scratchy voice of his for the rest of the night, since the orderlies seemed to ultimately decide to just let Shigaraki wear himself out rather than actually try and manhandle him into a timeout.

Iguchi wasn’t sure if there was such a thing as a “good” first impression in a psych ward. But Shigaraki had for sure proven that there were bad ones.

Continue on AO3

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant Y/N was most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for her to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

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[stealeroflemons]

eah thing but make it FASHION aka met gala themed but I'm sunburnt and only half awake right now #30 (PART I)

SURPRISE! I'm alive and well. Mostly. I'm getting ready to leave for university so I am tireeeeed. Anyways. I know there was a lot of controversy around the met gala and that I'm extremely late in doing this, but I do want to make this post to still add some ever after high fun and to also have some fashion fun with the help of Pinterest. The theme is (with great consideration of your suggestions and of my own deliberation) "Hans Christian Dior: A Spellelebration of Fable-ous Fashion"

This mainly came from research on past met gala themed and how quite a few of them are themes after specific fashion houses or designers AND from the Thronecoming special (which is PEAK fashion in the series besides Way Too Wonderland and Spring Unsprung) where Cedar calls out Duchess for wearing a fake Hans Christian Dior dress! (note, I am trying to mainly use Christian Dior gowns/outfits for this because of the reference in Thronecoming also sorry for the blurriness)

Briar is THAT GIRL. She is flushed in hot pink looking gorgeous with about every inch of her glittering with body shimmer, glitter hairspray, and shiny shiny jewels. I like to think that instead of the gold detailing in the pictures it would be silver and that the closer embellishments would be rose detailing to honor her usual aesthetic and legacy

Faybelle is serving every bit of whimsy and darkness. Her accessories and the layers of her dress and even her hair seem to be alive with lightning crackling around. Her wings are extra pretty and equally terrifying with silver thorn adornments that are magically light enough to not weigh her down

Ashlynn's look was partially inspired by Lady Tremaine's silhouettes in the lie action Cinderella while still maintaining the color palette of her usual outfits. Her look combines the beauty of the enchanted forest and foliage and the classy, fine china patterns you'd see in a royal palace. She is absolutely radiant and of course while walking up the steps of the Met, she loses a slipper ;)

Duchess has taken a slightly different approach to her usual fluffy-tulle outfits and gone for more of a paper swan look. The sharp angles provide a dangerous look to her, contrasting the soft purple accents and the feather headpieces she wears. She seems to float on air and she walks through the crowds of people in her gown, a true picture of elegance and grace with a touch of darkness to her

The one and only Apple White is DRAMATIC. HUGE HAIR. BOLD RED MAKEUP. EXTREME DRESS SILHOUETTE. THE MOST ROYAL JEWELRY YOU CAN FIND. She looks like something out of an editorial magazine on royalty. This entire look is a more elevated look of her daily wear, and she wears it with grace and sophistication

Darling looks so DARLING! I do think the gold on the dress would be swapped out for silver and that the pearls would be more pink-y toned so it would match the jewels in your basic outfit (same with other accessories). She's sticking with the sort of rococo hair that she usually has because it's iconic let's be honest. I was debating on giving her a more armored look but for this I wanted to embrace her softer and delicate look

Rosabella looks like a French aristocrat from an old Hollywood movie in my mind for an event like this. Nevertheless any fur details are faux, after all our girl is still an animal activist (slay queen). I think the dusty gold-brown tone of the dress with the deep red accents and jewelry pays a nice homage to not only her day to day look but to Belle's iconic yellow dress. I also feel like her and Briar would contrast well because Briar is very bright and vibrant in her look and Rosabella is more muted and understated which I like a lot

anways I'll make a part 2 eventually, I have all the collages made I just need to create a post and write descriptions. But for now I'm gonna go back to packing and planning for uni and I'll get back to y'all when I can (and hopefully my fanfictions, who now haunt me in my dreams)