#//i mushed myself into bed after work so

[risingsol]

my munday fact is i either sleep a lot or i sleep very little, there’s no in between.

my aether fact is that he sleeps okay or not great. secretly he does have an anxiety over the journey he has to do through this world and it affects his sleep schedule either mildly or greatly. he doesn’t like to take beverages or food said to keep him awake/boost his energy bc a) it doesn’t work as well on him and b) he doesn’t really wanna get used to it. prior to meeting with paimon, sleep would come rarely to him.

the first night he spent with paimon after chatting with her, he felt at ease enough to probably sleep the best he has since he came to this world.

[prozach27]

.

[deepcollectionredbird]

Sleepovers at Mack’s house have only gotten more exciting since I accidentally got him pregnant. Just to clear things up, he and I have been best friends our entire lives… and, a few months ago, we went through this experimental phase. You know how it is for guys our age. We tried a few things out, touched each other for a while, realized we didn’t like each other that way… and, at some point during that brief chapter of our friendship, I accidentally knocked him up. Now his folks are upset at him, and think the baby belongs to his ex. Yadda yadda yadda.

Like I was saying though… sleepovers at Mack’s house are one heck of a time now, especially since his parents aren’t suspicious of me. We can do whatever we want, and they don’t think anything of it, just like it’s always been. Whenever I’m at his place, it’s like my hands get stuck to his belly. I can’t keep myself off of that thing. When I walk through the front door and meet him in the kitchen, that’s the first place they go… and then, they’re glued. I turn into a huge mush-fest, cooing and kissing at it, like I only understand baby talk. It doesn’t matter who’s around, either. His parents think it’s the sweetest thing when they see me rubbing his belly. His mom and dad still see me as that snot-nosed little boy their some met in pre-k… and, as far as they know, I’m just being a supportive friend.

When we go down to the basement — where all of Mack’s stuff is — all I do is lay with him in bed and play with his belly, which is way more fun than it sounds. Like, I’ll spend hours just resting my head on it while he eats snacks and plays video games, feeling the baby kick, talking to the little thing, and listening to his stomach gurgle. I lick Mack’s belly button all the time too… just flick my tongue in there, until it starts to cramp. It’s just something weird that I do, to get a reaction out of him and the baby. It’s so fascinating, knowing that there’s a tiny human in there, and feeling it move around — even more so, with it being my kid. Honestly, I still don’t think I fully grasp the whole situation. It doesn’t feel… real… yet.

He and I talk about this whole pregnancy thing like it’s nothing. I’ll ask him how he’s feeling, and when I should come by to take him to his next appointment, and he never treats me like I’m just his baby-daddy. Our friendship hasn’t changed one bit. He’s still cool with me, and I’m the same old idiot that I’ve always been. All night long, he’ll go on and on about how weird his pregnancy is, how his parents are total assholes whenever I’m not around, how gross he feels in his own skin, or how his body is working against him. Recently, he told me that when he farts, he pees a little bit too. It’s honestly really funny, now that I think about it. Every time I hear him fart, or smell one of his silent killers, that means that he’s just pissed himself too. Even funnier, his farts are way worse now. They reek like hell.

I look forward to going to Mack’s place after school every night. It’s so nice that we can still have a good time with one another, laugh like two lunatics, and be ourselves… even in our current situation. In our hearts, we’re still those two little dickheads in the back of the class, goofing off and having a good time. Honestly, if things could just stay like this until he gives birth, I’d get him pregnant a million times.

[thisisntmattsturniolo]

bff!matt x reader 💖 not proofread, this is dookie

it was 6:30 pm, i was just getting home from my work shift at the coffee shop. i kicked my shoes and apron off, heading towards my desk, “i seriously need to get this shit done” i stared down at my homework.

i was 20 minutes into my session, but was interrupted by a phone call. it was matt, “yes?” i was greeted by the sounds of heavy panting and a set of eyes. “matthew, are u serious.” i grew annoyed because why did i answer. “hi baby fuck i just really miss you right now.” he spoke with a few voice cracks here and there, “can you come over? please..”

i should just hang up and leave him to do it, but part of me just wants to help him. maybe just sit there and watch him jerk off, i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t thinking about him all day and theres a little hurricane in my pants. “im on my way matt.”

this wasnt new, me and matt decided to be friends with benefits after this one night where we got blackout drunk and high out of our minds and somehow ended up alone together.

i pulled into his drive way, walking inside the house. he unfortunately left the front door unlocked, i was outside door of his room and all i could hear was his faint, little whimpers.

“matt” i introduced myself as i walked into his room. his pants were tugged down his thighs and his shirt was somewhere discarded as he sat against the head board in the dim room. “so you really called me over for this?” i spoke, sitting myself down on the bed beside him.

he stared at me in awe as his hand went up and down his shaft. his mouth agape, his eyes hooded and red. “please, touch me.” he whispered loud enough to where i could hear him. i shuffled on top of his lap, removing his hands from his aching cock, replacing them with my own. his head fell back against the board and his mouth widened more as whimpers and moans left his throat.

his touch lingered my body as his hands crept up my shirt. his hands cupping my tits, squeezing them softly. he pulled me in for a kiss, his hands cupping my face before sliding down to my waist.

his cock began to twitch in my hand, signaling he was close.“oh my god, fuck, god baby you make me feel s’good..” his brain was mush, he didnt even know what he was talking about. “yeah? you like when i touch you this?” i spoke in a low tone, kissing his neck and further down.

“poor boy couldn’t get off himself, couldnt he?” i cooed in his ear, my other hand lightly scratching his chest. “im so close, p-please.. let me.” he began to hiccup and whine, his thighs were tensing up beneath me. my hand movements began to speed up after hearing him beg, my thumb sliding over his angry, red tip rapidly.

his knuckles started to turn white because of how hard he was gripping on the sheets. “n-need you in me, i can’t take it.” he spoke as he began to move my shorts to the side. he wasted no time plunging into me, his nails leaving crecent shapes on my waist. he was moving at an animalistic paste, repeatedly hitting my g-spot. “m-matt..” i whined “shh..sh, s’okay fuck s’okay.” he mumbled into my neck, leaving sloppy kisses and some hickes here and there.

i felt the knot im my stomach about to snap, “oh my.. f-fuck matt.. r-right there..” i moan, my back is arched to the point it hurts, i have mascara running down my face. this whole thing was supposed to be fast and quick, but here i am getting fucked by my best friend. again.

the knot in my stomach quickly snapped, my legs tensed as my orgasm was washing over me. matt’s thrusts were getting slower, “where do y’want me baby..” “ins-side me..” i hiccuped. he shot his load in me after hearing those words, slowly pulling out then pushing it back inside me.

“matt i hate you.”

@chrisslutttygf @chrissidewhore @chrishotsexygf @cottoncandyswisherz @chaossturns @rlchrisfeinn

[plumpblunt]

Hiii,I don't even write but I was craving something like this yk? So I just did it myself ik its not good I just daydreamed a bit and wrote. Writing ain't for the weak! Lemme tell you!! Writers are sorcerers bruh! Enjoy and criticism is allowed or maybe I hv a degradation kink? Idk🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️not proofread

DELIVERY BOY-TOJI FUSHIGURO

Warnings:SMUTT ,18 AND UPPP💋💋🇹🇹🎀

Lounging on your couch in the late hours of the night binging your favorite show after a long day at work was something you knew you needed,it was like a long awaited reward. For some reason though,you still feel like you were missing something. You could not quite put your finger on it but you knew you wanted something. The ad that played vividly on you TV screen made it certain. Food. You knew to yourself that getting up to make your self something to eat was out of question because 1. You had to restock.2. You were lazy. So you had no other option but to order,so that you did.

After an unnecessary amount of browsing and contemplation, you finally made your choice. Korean. Not only was it the closest to you but it was also cheaper,you were not about to spend unnecessary amounts of money on some mediocre  oriental take out. Choosing your option tteobokki ,jjajangmyeon and tirimasu with a  peach  iced tea sounded way too good to pass up. You finalized the order and snuggled back into the comfort of your couch waiting for your delivery.

Ding Dong! Indicated that your food was there ,you jump up and scramble to find your wallet. Skipping to the door in glee you straighten your loose night gown that was threatening to nipslip and you open the door. You didn't even realize that it was raining until you look at the tall,drenched brooding man that held your food ,a cap concealing his eyes from your prying ones. He held his empty hand out ,you placed the money in it ,not missing show  burly and rough it was when yours bumped his. Tattooed too. When he hands you the bag the rain started to poor heavier.

He stood there counting the money,at the last bill he looked directly into your eyes pulling it from the stack and holds it out to you. You look at him confused,slowly reaching for it. "Your total is $30.00, you gave me $120.00 he gruffly states with a slight smirk. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry I didn't real-" "It's okay doll",he says with a smirk. You miss the way he glances at your chest, nipples on full display under your skimpy night gown.  "You know what ,keep it, as a tip,also because you are drenched and also because you were honest ."you state with a smile. "I don't need your money little girl,but if you do want to repay me ,I have something in mind" he slyly states.

"Uh!,oh! ,ha!,ugh!" You moan as he relentlessly snaps his thick , built  hips against the the curve of your wide pudgy ass. Your pretty pink acrylics dig into the bed as he continues to fuck  you into it. Your beautiful tear stained cheek mushed against the duvet,he leans down groaning out profanities  and praises,he kisses you,its filthy but firm,he groans as he moves his heavy,rough hand to your nape ,squeezing ,catching your moan  in the vice like grip he had on it. Letting you feel a bit of what you were doing to his cock. His cock,veiny,thick and long. The bulbous tip continues it's abuse on your cerix."I know baby ,I know."he softly mewls.

He let's up the grip on your neck and replaces it with his thick muscled arm, holding you in a headlock. Now forced to stay up ,the stretch burned and hurt so good ,arch so deep against his chest it subtly hurt to breathe but the pleasure was too good. Both your hands hold onto his bicep for stability as he continues to rut into you like a dog in heat. A dog he was. Huffing and grunting as he bites onto your shoulder, licking over the mark it made. His free hand going to your tummy feeling the evident bulge he makes ,hand now going to your clit rubbing in circles and what you could tell was his name. "Tell me where you feel me baby,hm? ","Do you feel me baby?,tell me where hm?"he asked teasingly. You feel the coldness of his gold chain on your neck.A babbling mess,you still manage to guide his hand to where you feel him. Directly above you bell button.

He lets out a taunting laugh as smoosjes your chees together to sloppily kiss you"Ughhh fuuuuuckkk,I'm so-,I'm so close daddy" you moaned out ,"Yeah?you're gonna cum on this dick baby? You goona give me what I want? Hm? You gonna let that fat ,tight ass pussy cum on this dick baby?"he asked,you nod desperately, "Anything to please you daddy"you mewl nails digging crescent shapes into his forearms. He let's you out the headlock and you slump forward, he catches you and puts both hands on your titts,you put yours over his and he somehow fucks you faster than before and you  feel him twitch inside you.

Within seconds you see white and squirt your release all over him. You feel him twitch once more and he quickly pulls out ,his release painting the expanse of your ass,you feel his warm cum ooze between you ass cheeks and down yor back.

   He pats your other ass cheek praising you."What a good little bitch,taking cock like a champ huh?"he smiles. He leans over to caress your cheek and wipe the tears. He kissed your swollen lips and you feel him come off the bed. He wipes his nut off your back and ass with some damp tissue and tucks you in. You are knocked out by the time he leaves his number and a bottle of water  on your night stand. He puts your food in the fridge and locks your door from the inside and leaves.  "Who knew a shitty ass job would get me the nicest piece of ass are ever had?"he smiles to himself making it back to his car.

[decadentworld]

loved the first fanfic! it was delicious!

so um could i request jonathan byers with dacryphilia, praise, maybe even perverted jonathan?

like it's jonathans first time bottoming and he's kind of scared, but he's fantasized about it for a very long time so he's very eager and obedient.

you don't have to write it, of course! whatever you're comfortable with, dude.

take care!

Hey, anon. I went kind of overboard with the ‘pervert Jonathan’ part, because this boy just screams ‘secret pervert’ to me. I hope it’s alright. This one is a lot more light-hearted and a lot less poetic than Rebirth.

Also. I promised myself that requests wouldn’t be as long as my personal works but. Well. Oops.

Vice.

Jonathan’s first time does not go the way he plans it. In fact, it goes a lot better.

※ Sub Bottom Jonathan/Dom Top Male Reader

※ 12,444 words.

※ Anonymous request.

※ Content & warnings: First time bottoming. Dacryphilia. Size difference/Size queen. D/s dynamics. Praise kink. Authority kink. Pervert Jonathan. Hardcore first time. Overstimulation. Un-beta’d.

※ Both characters are 18 or older.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

Jonathan’s little secret is at all times kept under lock and key. Several locks, actually. And a combination lock with no less than five numbers for good measure.

There’s this box hidden within his closet, see, which is quite sizable, though it is very discreet and easy to hide in the deepest part of his closet, behind his chest of drawers. It’s black; he knows it’s originally intended as a cash safe, or he supposes, since he didn’t actually buy it. He found it. He swears that’s the word that describes it best: ‘found’ it. What could an open cash safe have been doing just lying around in the junkyard otherwise? He did not steal it. It was open, it was empty, it was happenstance that he needed something to store his ever-growing collection of his more personal things and there was an abandoned cash safe in the junkyard. Simple.

Now, what’s inside this box nowadays? Only he knows as of yet. It’s not something he could just be saying outloud. There are already consequences just for people like Jonathan to simply show his true face in Hawkins, but if anyone unsafe found what he keeps in the box? He would be skinned alive. He would be castrated, for sure.

Which is why he always makes absolutely sure to close it, lock it, and hide it away after he finishes making use of the… erm. Objects inside.

He always does. He never forgets.

After withdrawing from one of the most intense, toe-curling make-out sessions with his boyfriend —his boyfriend. It makes him so fucking giggly to think of that word— as he greeted you into his house, a surprise visit from you, he leads you closer to his bed with a shy hand on yours.

“Just get comfortable,” he tells you. “I’m gonna bring in something to eat.”

“Sure, gorgeous.”

The mental haze he gets after the slight praise is probably one of the reasons why he gets sloppy today.

He walks to the kitchen with a spring in his step. He’s home alone for the moment, something so rare it’s a golden opportunity he won’t waste. God. He feels so bubbly when he’s with you. He opens the fridge as he thinks of this. Jonathan’s never felt like this, like he could turn to mush just by being next to you, like he could start giggling at any given moment just because you talk to him with a voice that rumbles throughout his body, like he could swoon when you press your palm against the back of his head, because he feels like you could engulf him wholly. His break-up with Nancy led him to several realizations, one of which —and he’s sorry, Nancy, but it has to be said— is the one where he found he’s a lot more attracted to men than to women. By, like. A lot. Nancy knew about his bisexuality before, but never commented on it. He doesn’t think she did (or didn’t, rather) out of maliciousness, or awkwardness, or anything like that. Jonathan knows there was just no possible situation in which the topic could be talked about casually, so why bother. He’s absolutely not mad or anything like that. Plus, there’s no point in discussing something like that when they were in a relationship; for no reason would he think about other men, or women, while he had a girlfriend. These thoughts lead to other similar ones as he’s getting some snacks ready in small plastic bowls. He feels kind of bad for not being more open with his family. With Will, especially. He knows the euphoria, the feeling of safeness that Will would get if he knew there was an older queer figure in his life. Sure, Will is not out, but it’s sort of an open secret now. But Jonathan is not that brave. He knows his mom has the tiniest suspicion of Jonathan being at least a little bit queer, what with you coming over more often than not. For college assignments, of course. And everything leads back to you. He bites his lip with a smile on his face as he finishes pouring the contents of a packet into one of the little bowls. Everything about you has him crazy. It’s the fact that you tower over him but still hold him in your arms like he’s delicate, fragile. It’s how you still haven’t made any sexual advances towards him, because you know he’s a virgin in that aspect, and because he told you how very nervous the thought made him. But Jonathan knows you sense something more, and how very right you are without realizing it, that he might be sort of terrified, yet it’s the only thing he can think about these days. It’s even more difficult to focus on anything else when he can only think about you taking him in your big hands, making him —everything about him— look small. Can’t help getting hard in unfortunate situations sometimes, can’t choose which fantasy is best: the one where you take your time with him, treating him gently… or the one where you rip his virginity away, so intensely that he’s crying in the end. He has to calm down before he gets hard. Again. Because he’s already taken the edge off, had an orgasm earlier today. Made use of some of the objects in his—

Wait.

WAIT.

He sprints towards his room leaving the bowls abandoned on the kitchen counter. And there you are.

On his bed. Not having moved at all, of course. How could you? His bed is quite comfy.

You’re sitting on his bed. Looking at the open closet some feet from you. With a scandalized, but pleased expression.

Looking at the open safe on the closet floor.

Jonathan throws himself in front of the closet and closes the door with such force it resounds across his bedroom.

“How much did you see?!”

You look at him, amusedly, pleasantly surprised at this new version of Jonathan you’re seeing. “Um… enough?”

Jonathan covers his burning face and groans. It’s a long and muffled noise. “Oh my Goood,” he mumbles behind his hands.

You can’t help but chuckle a little bit. “Babe… why are you so shaken about this?”

“It’s… you weren’t supposed to see.” Jonathan peeks at you from between his fingers. “It’s so fucking embarrassing.”

“Uh…” You understand where he’s coming from, but, honestly, if he thinks this is the end of the world then he’s sorely mistaken. “It’s… not, really. It’s actually kind of… hot.”

Jonathan lowers his hands so quickly he accidentally slaps the closet door behind him. He gapes at you, so mortified he could melt to the floor. “Wh-What— You don’t— You’re not mad?”

Now you’re frowning in confusion. “Why would I be mad?”

“Well… I kind of… told you I’ve never…” You never thought he could get any more red until now. “And I still… have these things…”

You give him a sort of wolfish smile. He knows you’re trouble when you stand up, slowly walk the few steps to him, and suddenly you’re towering over him.

He gulps. He’s so terrified and excited about what you’re going to say, to do.

You lower a hand to the left side of his waist. He jumps a little bit. “It is hot, Jonathan. Now, feel free to push me off if I’m out of line, but I’m suddenly really, really curious to see more of that.”

He makes a small shrill you find adorable. “Uh— you want to s— how— what did you see, exactly?”

“Well, I saw… some nice-looking ropes.” Jonathan grumbles with embarrassment. “Saw something that looks like…” You leave his waist for a second to use both index fingers to draw something in the air that vaguely resembles a spade. He looks like a fish out of water. “I spotted a shape that looks a lot like something I have, too… if you’d be interesting in comparing.” Jonathan is almost hyperventilating at this point. “But, I think the most interesting one… it was barely peeking, but… the corner of something that I know, Jonathan, I know, is a photo?”

He can’t take it. He hides his face in your chest and whines so loudly it can barely be muffled. You cackle. It’s not a mean sound. You just can’t believe how agitated he’s being about something so normal. So you reassure him.

“It’s normal, Jonathan. It just means you have a healthy way of having fun on your own.”

He grumbles some more. He peeks at you from his spot on your chest. “You think?”

“Yep. And I would absolutely not mind knowing more about it. About your… stash.”

That at least pulls a giggle out of him. “You say it like I’m dealing.” He withdraws.

You caress his chin with a smile. “I am. I would pay only the highest price for this very fine selection.”

Jonathan bites his lip, a small smile in his face. You make him feel so safe, no judgement ever bleeding from your words. “You want to see it?”

You nod, almost enthusiastically, and he laughs. You step back some, giving him some space to open the closet door behind him. He does, and crouches down to retrieve it. Before pulling it out completely, he hesitates. “Um…”

“Yeah?”, you encourage him.

“It’s… if that’s all you saw, then… you didn’t even see half of it?” He says the last part more hushed, like he’s so embarrassed of himself he can’t even speak.

“Oh.” And you sound even more excited now. “Well. You’ll just have to show me all of it, right?”

Jonathan bites his lip and giggles nervously. He pulls the black safe out of his closet and onto the floor of his room.

You give him a muffled laugh. He was right. You didn’t even see half of what he’s got. You skim over the contents, before saying: “Wanna bring this up to the bed so I can see it better?”

He nods. With a strong blush on his face, Jonathan lifts the open box and leaves it on his bed.

The moment of truth is here. You both sit on the mattress, the open safe between you two, its contents perfectly visible. Jonathan is sort of hunched over himself with a hand on his mouth, looking so embarrassed you find it endearing.

You feast on all the objects inside the safe. There’s the things you’ve already seen: red ropes, a metal buttplug, a black silicone dildo, and yes, there are pictures too. Pictures of himself with those ropes around him and nothing more, photographs of parts of his body, a lot more artistic than actually sexual in nature. Close-ups of Jonathan’s cum on the wooden floor. But apart from that, there’s also skin mags. Pocket-sized ones. They’re all gay skin mags. There are also a lot more toys and sexual objects: nipple clamps, anal beads, a small bullet-shaped vibrator, a cock ring, a flogger, a chest harness, a collar with a D ring and matching cuffs for the wrists and ankles —you have to catch your breath at that one. An unlabeled cassette. That one picks your interest a lot. You don’t see any fleshlights or VHS’s. Probably didn’t fit in the safe with how much stuff there is already. Lastly, you see two different tubes of lubricant: a neutral one, and a cherry-flavored one; and a handful of packets of condoms.

His collection is impressive. It’s almost like he collects these things, like he treasures them, keeps them stored away safely only for his eyes and body to feast on whenever he has the time. All in all, you get a rush of something that feels like awe, and lust at the same time.

You finally look at him. He is so red behind his hands, and he’s also shaking a little bit, like he’s so nervous to hear what you have to say about all this.

“Oh, babe. Look at me.” Jonathan complies, looking at you from the spaces between his fingers. “This? This is amazing. Like, wow. You have so much stuff.” You give him a little smirk, about to test the waters. “Have you used all of them already?”

At that, Jonathan can only cover his face completely, muffled laughs hysterical from how awkward he feels, and throws himself back on the bed. At least he’s not outright rejecting you.

A little nod catches your attention.

“That’s so hot, baby.” You softly grab around the edges of the safe and turn it around a bit to see better. Jonathan lowers his hands down to his mouth to be able to see you when he feels the jostle on the bed. “Can you tell me what… this one is?” You point at the cassette.

“Oh my God.” Jonathan looks like he’s biting his nails. He decides to sit up instead. He takes the cassette in his trembling hands and holds it up, the side you saw before facing you and the other one facing Jonathan. “Um…”

“If you want, obviously.”

“U-Um…” He giggles nervously a bit more. That’s good. He’s not actually afraid or uncomfortable, just shy. “It’s… like a narration. The narrator says things that are supposed to… make you feel things.”

It’s so vague, since he’s still pretty mortified about showing you all this, but you think you understand. “Okay. Kind of like… hypnosis?”

“Well… yeah, but not really in the traditional sense.” Jonathan fiddles with the cassette. “It’s just relaxing, but also…” His renewed blush tells you everything you need to know.

“That’s so interesting.” You lean over to examine the small rectangle better, and suddenly spot some handwritten text on the back. “Oh. What does it say?”

Jonathan shrieks. He didn’t mean for you to see that. His hand just accidentally moved until the cassette was no longer parallel to you. “Uhhh…” But, he decides to brave through, because this entire situation is doing something to him. “But… but don’t make fun of me. Please.”

“Of course not!”, you’re quick to say. “Why would I?”

Jonathan bites his lower lip. “Well…” He fidgets a bit, then shakily hands you the cassette over.

You give him a reassuring little smile as you accept the tape. You turn it around. And.

Ah.

Jonathan is full of surprises, isn’t he.

Your eyes go hazy with lust as you read the handwritten two words on the white sticker: Good Boy. You understand a bit better now. You can totally picture what it is: the deep masculine voice of a male narrator giving the listener instructions on what to do, how to touch themselves, what a good boy they’re being for obeying. So Jonathan has the biggest praise kink ever. No big deal. Not at all. Except. It’s all you’ll be able to think about for the rest of your life.

You can’t help yourself. Your hand reaches the back of his head and you give your boyfriend a steamy kiss, right over the open safe, feeling him tremble and whine against you. He opens his mouth in time for you to slip your tongue in and start a sensual caress over his own. Jonathan grabs at your clothes in desperation, squirming in his place on the bed like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You withdraw and look at him. Not only is he sporting the most gorgeous blush ever, but there’s a hint of lust there now, too.

“That’s so fucking hot, Jon. You like being a good boy?”

He suddenly moans against your lips. But then seems to sober up and covers his mouth, ashamed.

You take his hand into yours and move it aside with a little bit of resistance. “None of that, sweetness. Let me hear you.”

He does this little whine and instead lifts his other hand over his mouth, not entirely covering it, just appearing to be chewing on his nails. Even then, he’s gives you a small shaky smile as he shakes his head in shy denial.

“No?” You push only enough to give him a thrill, never to spook him. Your hand that was holding his releases him and goes under his chin. Jonathan puts both hands on his lap as he timidly looks up at you. “I hope I’m not overstepping here, but…”

“N-No, no, you’re not.” Jonathan puts his left hand on the one you have under his chin. “I’m just… this is just kinda new to me.”

You grin at him. “Sweetheart.” You lean in to give him a small peck on the lips. Even that seems to leave him breathless. “I was just saying that… it’d be so hot if you told me more about some of these things. Hm? What do you say?”

He releases a heavy breath that borders on being a moan. He bites his lip, but nods in the end. You release his face and he runs two delicate hands across his hair.

Right when he’s about to speak up, there’s a loud thud coming from the front door of the house.

Jonathan yelps and jumps almost a foot in the air. He immediately closes the lid of the safe box. You’re both frozen in place, you waiting to see if any of his relatives are going to walk in through the front door, and he frozen from fear.

A few more seconds pass, and nothing else happens. Jonathan shakily gets up from the bed, slowly walks to his bedroom door and opens it just a bit. His eyes land on the front door.

The tips of something he knows is newspaper peek from under the slit of the door.

He closes his door with a relieved sigh. “Oh my God. It was just the newspaper delivery. I thought it was going to be my mom.” He runs his hands through his hair with a hysterical giggle.

You laugh too. “Damn. Scared the hell out of me.”

“Me too.”

It seems like this cut off the moment you were having. Jonathan stands awkwardly at the door for some seconds. Then decides to go near the bed again, but doesn’t sit down.

“Um… I’m, like, totally spooked out right now.” But he says it like he’s apologetic about it. Like he doesn’t want this to stop.

You get up with an eager grin. He gives you that nervous little smile, looking at you from under his lashes. “I thought of something right now. That is, if you want, of course.” He nods as he keeps listening. “I thought that maybe… you can show me all of this,” and your hand points in the direction of the closed safe on the bed. “…uninterrupted. As much as you want… at mine?”

He makes a small embarrassed grunt. He covers his mouth to muffle a small giggle. “At your house?”, he asks, so demurely you want to eat him up.

“Yeah. If, of course, that’s okay with you.”

Jonathan doesn’t answer you right away, still looking like he’s gonna vibrate out of his skin. He walks the few steps towards the bed, opens the lid of the safe, and takes something small out of it. Slowly. Nervously.

“Ummm…” He shows you what it is. He speaks almost in a whisper. “Are we… going to need one of these?”

A condom.

Your eyes go half-lidded. The idea that he possibly wants to fuck, even though you haven’t gone past heavy kissing, is exhilarating. You have to collect yourself, since you don’t mean to drive home with an erection.

“Jonathan…” You crowd him against the wall next to his bedroom door. He drops the packet with a breathless moan. You kiss him long and heavy, feeling him squirm against you, feeling his rising heat. You withdraw and give him an intense look. “If you want.”

He moans against your neck. He breathes rapidly against it, trying to calm himself down, and then nods against your skin.

You run your fingers through his hair, on the back of his head. Then you softly grip those same locks to lift his head and have him look at you. “Good.”

It’s so close, a hair’s width kind of close to saying ‘good boy’, but you’re going to save that for later. Even now, he melts against your grip at that single word. Now he puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to focus better. “Okay, but, like… can you just… go and I’ll meet you there. In 20, maybe? I’ll have to call mom first and make up an excuse.”

You chuckle. “Sure.”

 

Jonathan comes out of the shower fifteen minutes later. He’s still the only person in the house, feeling sure that it wouldn’t be at least another hour until anyone arrived, but it was still the better idea to go to yours.

As he goes back into his room and retrieves the closed safe —this time having hid it behind his set of drawers where he always leaves it, he’s not making that mistake again— he stops when he has it in his hand. A wicked idea comes into his mind. He blushes as he begins unlocking the box.

 

 

You open your front door at the twenty minute mark, just as Jonathan said. There he is, all nervous smiles and fidgety hands, even though he clearly hopes it’s subtle. He has the safe box clutched in his right hand.

“Hey,” you greet him as you give him way into your home.

“Hi.” Jonathan tucks his chin into his chest. He’s just so cute to you.

As soon as you close the door, he’s onto you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he kisses you first now. You lean back against the door and hold the sides of his head in your hands. These same hands caress his hair. He melts into you within the kiss.

You pull back and point at the safe in his hand with a wolfish smile. “That looks heavy. Let me give you a hand?”

Jonathan does this little sound that tells you he’s embarrassed, but hands you the box over. He’s putting a lot of trust into you by letting you handle the most private part of his life, so you’re not going to disappoint him.

You take his hand with your free one, which makes him look like he’s melting with shyness, even though you have a literal safe full of his sex toys in your other hand, and guide him towards your room.

The moment you open the door, it seems like it dawns on Jonathan that you’re going to do this. His hand starts trembling in your grip.

You lift his hand until it’s under your mouth. You press a soft kiss on his knuckles, and he looks at you with shaky giddiness. “Still want to do this?”

Jonathan all but latches himself onto you, holding onto your side as his answer. He looks at you from under his lashes, almost like he’s fawning at you. So he’s just nervous but still excited. It’s a small relief, and you will do anything to keep him from toeing that fine line into outright distress. You softly grab his chin and press a small kiss on his lips. After, you guide him further into your room with this same grip, something that makes him give you the softest of giggles.

Once you’re in front of the bed, you gesture for him to get comfortable. Jonathan sits on your bed as you deposit the locked safe onto the mattress with the utmost care.

“I have to… unlock it first,” Jonathan says. He bites his lip to stifle a grin, his face already reddening some.

“Of course!” You turn around and make a show of covering your eyes with your hands.

He outright laughs this time. You hear the tinkle of small keys —he probably had them in his pockets, you muse—, some clacking noises that indicate a padlock opening, then two, and then three, and then soft clicking of tiny number dials being turned. Finally, a louder clack. The lid is open.

“Okay, you can turn around, now,” Jonathan says, amusedly.

You do, and a familiar sight of the many toys and objects inside the box greets you. There’s the things you’ve already seen: the dildo, the mags. Everything else.

Except… maybe…?

You have a fleeting, silly thought. You think, and this is so funny: you think there’s, like… something missing?

Hah. As if. You leave this ridiculous thought aside.

“Okay. Okay!” You sit down on your bed, next to the open safe, similar to the way you were some twenty minutes ago in his house.

He briefly covers his mouth with his hands, like he’s muffling a giggle. Hah. He’s so shy about telling you more, that’s for sure. That’s the only reason why he’s so giddy. Of course. “What… What would you like to know?”

You give him a hungry smirk. “Well… just the basics. You know? Like, what’s your favorite one, or, what’s the one you use the most?”

Jonathan covers his face with his hands for a short time. He looks like he’s biting his nails with one hand when he uses the other one to point at the bullet vibrator. “I… I use this one the most.” And then his hand hovers over the black silicone dildo. “But… I like this one the most.”

You lick your lips. Some conclusions are being drawn with what he’s saying. He likes the vibration, the movement the vibrator causes, because it’s the closest he might have to an unassisted penetration, perhaps? And he loves using the dildo, but doesn’t use it as much, because…?

“Oh. And, if you like this one the most,” you start, while you point at the dildo. “…why don’t you use it as much?”

His lips do a funny thing, like he’s barely containing a hysterical laugh. He exhales, and it comes out like a whine. “Um…” Jonathan runs his hands through his hair, so nervous to say it outloud. “Because… I don’t always have time to prepare enough for it.”

Hm… “Prepare, as in…?”

“Well.” He does start giggling at this point, clapping his hands once like he can’t believe he’s about to say this. You chuckle in sympathy, even though you don’t fully understand. “It’s just… so big.”

Whoa.

What.

“It’s… I need a lot of time… and prep…” He muffles his giggles behind his hands. “‘Cause, otherwise, it just won’t… fit.”

You think your mouth is open, but you can’t know for sure. First of all, you are already feeling a bit hot under the collar. Just Jonathan telling you this has to count as foreplay. Second of all…

The dildo is… well. You estimate it might be five inches at max, four and a half in length if you’re being more realistic. One and a half inches in diameter.

It’s just… it’s so cute that he thinks…

“Wh… What?”, Jonathan says, a bit shaky. “What is… cute?”

Oh, shit. You said that last part outloud, didn’t you. You lean over and peck him on the lips. “Nothing, baby. Nevermind.”

He does a little humming noise, like he’s parsing your implications, but seems to drop it. He goes back to watching over the objects. He bites the tip of his index finger when your hand hovers over the stack of loose photographs. They’re not simple polaroids or anything like that: they’re professional, artistic, developed photographs. You think Jonathan is so brave because of that. The thought that he’d be careful enough to stay in the darkroom for as long as the photos needed to be developed, not letting anyone else in and catch him in the act, is simply so endearing.

“Don’t think I’ve said it before, but these are amazing.” Your fingers hover over the top picture, the most visible one: the one where he’s tied up with the red rope. His arms are free to be able to hold the camera in front of the mirror; his legs are tied up around the thigh and ankle, so that he wouldn’t have been able to stand up. His bare cock is semi-hard in front in the picture. You wonder if he had touched himself beforehand, or if the simple act of being tied-up turns him on. “So hot.”

Jonathan puts a lock of his hair behind his ear. “You can… hold them, if you want. To see them.”

“Yeah?” You do just that. You grab the one you’ve seen before, the one where there’s just a cum splatter on wooden floor. “Bet you had a lot of fun with this one, didn’t you?”

Jonathan just covers his mouth with his hands. He’s so abashed, but he trusts you so much, trusts you enough to show this part of him. “Y-Yeah.”

“Hm. Wait. Is this blood?” You point at the picture in your hand, where there are thick red splatters next to the white ones.

“Oh, no. Not at all. It’s candle wax.”

“Ooh. Candles?”

He nods, shyly. “I ran out of candles, but my subject in this series was to show how suggestible a person might be to some images in terms of eroticism. Like, you just thought this was blood, but it’s actually wax. And you obviously knew this is… well…” He gets giggly for a second because he’s pointing to the white splatters and you know he’s going to say ‘cum’. “…and you were right, but another person might just think both of them are melted candle wax in different colors.”

He’s such a genius.

“And also these ones,” Jonathan continues, pulling out the photographs you’ve seen before, of close-ups of his bare body where only vague shapes could be distinguished. “…these are from the same series.”

“This is… your arm?”, you guess.

He bites his lip and nods. “Yeah. It’s supposed to be vague enough for people to not fully understand what they’re looking at, first. They might just think it’s abstract photography, or maybe just a texture.”

You hum. “These are very good, Jon. You’re a prodigy.”

Your praise has its intended effect. He laughs, abashed, trying to cover his face but always coming back to you. “Thank you,” is his whispered gratitude.

You notice he’s subtly trying to cross his legs on the bed. Hm…

“You know,” you start, nonchalantly, as your hand hover above the cassette, something that has him almost on the edge of his seat. “…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this one.”

God. The look on his face. Jonathan is so red he’s almost suffocating. Just you mentioning the tape leads him to shift on the bed, like he’s getting horny from the sole idea of you listening to it. “Y-Yeah?” It’s a muffled question; his hands are against his mouth.

“Yep,” you answer, so casually, like, yeah, of course I can’t stop thinking about you getting off to a man telling you how good you are. No big deal. “And, to be honest, it gave me quite a few ideas.”

Jonathan lowers his hands to his lap and fidgets with the rim of his sweater. His lips are pursed, like he wants to smile nervously. “Yeah?” It’s a whisper now.

“Yeah. Makes me think of how desperate you have to be to be someone’s good boy, enough to buy something like this.”

He exhales so loudly, so much so that it sounds like the beginning of a moan. At the same time, that simple fidgeting turns into him actually pulling the rim of his sweater down. To cover the small tenting of his pants.

You give him a heated glare to which he withers in lust. Reaching out, you lay a hand under his jaw. “Makes me think you wouldn’t need it anymore. Since you’ll have me here to tell you all those things.”

Jonathan looks wrecked. He closes his eyes, rubs his face against your hand, uses both of his to grab your wrist.

“What do you say?”, you ask, because you need verbal confirmation, even though he’s doing the equivalent of throwing himself at your feet by now.

He nods, so enthusiastically it pulls a chuckle out of you.

“Words, baby.”

He moans out loud. “Yes, Sir.”

He’s your ruin. You can’t do anything other than growl and bring him to your lips with a strong grip on his nape. He’s now moaning into the kiss, so filthily that you can feel it in your bones. You kiss him languidly, but it’s steamy; you all but force his jaw to open with your thumb on his chin and press your tongue into his mouth. The effect is immediate. He invites you in, gives you nervous caresses of his tongue that are wholly eclipsed by the dominion yours has on his. Throughout this time he’s never stopped shifting in his place, close to vibrating out of his skin, if it weren’t for your strong grip on his nape, keeping him in place. Keeping him behaved.

You pull out and he takes a deep breath at once.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Jonathan,” you grunt against his lips. “…but I get the impression that you’ve been wanting this for a long, very long time, if all of this stuff is any indication.” You gesture towards the open safe between you, below you.

He nods quickly in your grip. “Yes! Yes, I can’t— can’t stop thinking about it. About…” He seems to get abashed. “I wouldn’t— mind if—”

“If…?” You give his lower lip a small bite.

Jonathan gasps before resuming. “Like— I know i-it’s my first time in— you know— but, l-like…” He breathes quickly when you kiss the corner of his lips, his cheek, his temple. “…like… I’ve always… had this…”

His red-faced silence urges you to give him encouragement. “This… ‘fantasy’?”

“Oh my God,” and he starts laughing nervously, because you’re right, because you’re so attuned to him he can’t believe it. “Y-Yeah. Well— It’s— Um… Where it— wouldn’t be…”

You hum in interrogation.

“Oh my God are you gonna make me say it.” You chuckle at this rushed mumble of his, and he answers in kind. “Um… I’m trying to say th-that… I wouldn’t mind if— if you weren’t… gentle.”

This is Hell. This is Hell and Heaven in the same place. Does Jonathan have any idea of what he’s unleashed? He’s just basically revealed that he wants you to be rough with him on his first time bottoming. And, for the love of God, isn’t that a vision. This shy, inexperienced —at least in this aspect— boy wants you to have your way with him, like the secret little pervert you’ve found he is, thanks to the safe full of literal sex toys right under you both. This fantasy of his is just so in tune to yours that you want nothing more than to fulfill it.

But.

There’s a problem. A little problem with this.

You kiss him shortly, and walk around the safe until you’re kneeling in front of him, between his legs on the bed. He has to look up from under his lashes. You caress his neck with both hands and he seems to melt against you.

“Babe. You have no idea how much I want that.” Jonathan trembles in your hands. “But… we’re gonna need a lot of lube and prep.”

“Sure, yeah. Of course. I know.” But does he know? You think he’s not exactly aware of how much you’re implying with this, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I just— need to grab. It. The lube.” He reaches to the side and grabs one of the two tubes of lubricant in his safe. The neutral one. “And… well… Just… get prepared.” He starts giggling like he just said something extremely funny, and you can’t help but join in. “But… I need to see what I’m working with, first, i-if you know what I mean.” Jonathan puts as much enticement in his voice and face as he can, even as he stutters his way through it.

This is the part you were worried about. You just don’t know how he’s going to react when he sees it. Even then, you start undoing your pants, slowly, his giddiness beating his nervousness now. “Okay, sweetheart. But maybe you should let me ease you into it—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he rushes to say, putting his own hands on yours, helping you undo the button and flyer with shaking hands. “Sorry I’m so eager. I just… can’t stop thinking about it.” He hooks the fingers of both hands under your underwear and starts pulling down as he keeps rambling. “Like, I’m… sort of dying for it? And you know it since you can see all the things I have here, and I’m always kind of ready, and— w-well, um…”

His voice dies down as your cock is revealed. Here’s the point where he’s completely silent, just staring at it, mouth open as if in wonder. Or maybe horror.

Because the thing about this particular fantasy of his, of wanting to have his virginity just ripped out of him, can’t be entirely possible without a good amount of pain now that he knows how big you are.

“Ah…?” Jonathan stares at it with a terrified smile. Then looks up at you. Gestures at your member with a loose finger, looks at it again. “H-How… Is it r-real?”

You give him a sympathetic half-smile, half-grimace. “It’s— Yeah. It’s very real. Unfortunately.”

Is it bad news that he doesn’t have a giddy comeback for that? Just silence?

“Look, Jon, we don’t have to do this anymore. We can just… I don’t know. Play a bit, if you want. Not do anything at all—”

“No, no, no, no. None of that. I just…” He seems to compose himself a little bit. Exhales a small laugh. “I needed… a second, back there. Sorry for— that. I still— you know. Maybe you’re right.” Jonathan’s hands nervously reach the sides of your cock, not laying on it yet. “We need. A lot of prep.”

You notice his eagerness and take his hands in yours, guiding them until they’re wrapped around your cock.

He exhales so shakily. He can’t even fully close his fingers around your member.

“You sure you want to?”, you have to ask, because he’s just so small compared to you. You’re so afraid of hurting him —in a bad way. In a way he doesn’t want.

He bites his lip as he nods. Then, as his face turns a darker shade of pink, he starts getting the most sly look on his face. You narrow your eyes playfully, attempting to understand what he’s trying to convey. His small hands on your cock rub up and down, slowly, the strokes a bit dry without lube but a nice feel nonetheless.

“Okay,” you say. “Gonna need a lot of lube for this, yeah?”

He nods again. Doesn’t speak, even though he looks like he wants to say something, but keeps it down.

You hum, and narrow your eyes again. “Okay?” You start leaning forwards, almost forcing him to start leaning back until he’s lying on the bed, his hands leaving your cock to aid himself.

He nods once more, this time frantically. He makes a small squeak when he feels the hot imprint of your big cock on his clothed thigh.

“Then…” You kiss him deliberately. His hands grab your shoulders. You withdraw after some few seconds. After you quickly take off his sweater and shirt at the same time, you’re back to lying on top of him fully. “I’m gonna need to see what I’m working with, first, don’t you think?”, you mumble against his lips, echoing what he said first.

Here’s when he starts shifting more in place. He appears to be eager, but holding back for something. Jonathan’s expression is one of heavy anticipation. His breathing is deep, ready for you. Even so, he nods one last time.

You kneel back up and start undoing his pants. Jonathan lies back on his arms, his legs slightly shifting in place. You give him a sly look that pins him in place, makes him so hot under the collar, and begin lowering his boxers just until his cock starts to show. He giggles, nervously, airily, and you can’t help but join in.

He whines in between his soft laughter. “Don’t laugh, okay? I know it’s small.”

He’s so pouty about this that you can’t help but lean forward and steal a short kiss from him. “Now, why would I laugh about that? Like it wouldn’t be one of the hottest things from you.” Your hands finally uncover his hard cock while he’s sputtering at what you’ve just said.

And it is hot. It is hot to you that Jonathan is simply so small compared to you, in every aspect. His cock is just perfect, would fit like a dream in your big hand. So you try just that.

Jonathan flails in the bed when he feels your fist enclosing around his member. He can’t help but thrust up into it repeatedly, all the while crying out at how good it feels.

But you’re mean to him. You use your other hand to hold his hips down, and your strength is too great for him to handle. He realizes he’s fully immobilized when he tries to push his hips up and can’t move even an inch. This sole fact makes him swoon, turns him into mush on your mattress, and he stops trying. Lets you be the one to lead the —slow, agonic— pace of your hand on his cock. It’s a thing of beauty: your hand is big enough to completely envelop his cock. The visual is so powerful that you feel your own throbbing hotly.

“Good boy.”

He moans so desperately this time, because it’s what he’s been dying for all along. It’s the first time you call him that.

“Yeah? You like being a good boy and staying still for me?”

He nods so quickly his hair shifts in place. “Yes. Yes, Sir.” Jonathan seems to realize that he just said this, and covers his mouth with both hands. He looks so abashed.

So you encourage him. “Such a good boy for me, calling me ‘Sir’. Don’t be ashamed now, gorgeous. You did it once already.”

Jonathan seems even more agitated by this. “I did?!”

He’s adorable. You hum in response. “Yes. So don’t get shy on me. Be nice and I’ll give you everything you need.”

His face does something so obscene now. His eyes cross and he lies down completely, moaning like he’s already coming, except he’s not. You’re afraid he might be too close, so you slowly pull your closed fist off him. His moan breaks in the middle of it, and you moan in response, almost mocking him as it ends in a small chuckle.

“Come on. I still need to see what I’ll be working with, yeah?”

It’s like the moment is slightly broken as soon as you say this. He nods, but is quiet now.

You lie on top of him, covering his body with yours, and it seems like he finds the height difference so utterly hot that he can’t help but release a little titter. You smile at him fondly. Now his arms encircle your shoulders, and you meet his lips in the middle, so slowly and softly that he turns into mush. While your left arm goes around his neck, both to hold him and to keep yourself up, your right hand starts the descent down his bare back, teasingly, loving every minuscule writhing it feels as it goes. Calloused fingertips caress his spine, the dimples on his lower back, then go right under his underwear beneath his pants. Jonathan whines as your big hand takes hold of his left cheek, fondling it almost roughly, and the thought is simply too much for him. He pulls off the kiss and hides his face in the crook of your neck, almost sobbing with how much he’s feeling.

Your fingers approach the place you’ve been looking for all this time. Except…

You feel something hard. Something flat and wide where his entrance should be, and you immediately know what it is.

“Jonathan.”

He pulls off your neck just the tiniest bit, only to look at you with a mortified look, as you said it so strongly, almost like you were reprimanding him.

But he’s turning you feral, so you grab his hips to quickly turn him around and have him face down while he yelps. You hold his hips up as he’s too dumbfounded to react yet and pull down his pants and underwear, only down to his thighs and he can do no more than cover his face with his hands.

There’s the metal buttplug in all its glory.

“I knew it! I knew there was something missing in the box!” The visual is so stunning. To know that he’s been wearing this all this time…

Jonathan whines like a kicked puppy. “I-Is it too much? I’m sorry, I thought you would like—”

“Oh, no, no, baby. This is just perfect. Feel.” You lay your hard, throbbing cock on his right asscheek and he makes a sound like he’s drowning. “Can you feel how hard you made me? You’re such a good boy, Jon. Got ready for me without me having to tell you.”

Jonathan moans almost like he’s yelling, then presses his face against the bed.

You lie on top of his back, your chest molding over it. “It means it won’t take too long to fit my cock in you,” you all but growl next to his ear, and he sobs. Your right hand grabs the base of the plug, and even that little thing has him wailing. “You know, I gotta ‘fess up. Some minutes ago I was about to say ‘It’s cute that you think this is big’.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yeah! I was just as shocked,” you say conversationally as you twist the plug in him, his feet kicking up and down the bed. “I thought, ‘does he really think this is big? Oh boy, what’s he gonna say when he sees my cock?’”

Jonathan’s response is a warbled, unintelligible noise.

“Let me see just how ready you are.” Your fingers start pulling the buttplug out, and he’s wailing and thrashing on the bed as you do. You’re probably the first person to anally stimulate him, and you know just how sensitive the first time can be. “Now, be a good boy and stop moving, yeah?”

His movements halt to a stop, though he’s clearly shaking, like it’s a huge effort for him.

“That’s a good boy. So good, Jonathan. So obedient.”

Jonathan’s response is a wet, “Thank you, Sir.”

“So polite, too. Let me see.” You pull the buttplug out until the widest part is stretching his entrance, something that makes him whimper and have to try even harder to not move. “Hm. This is a good size. Perfect to stretch you just wide enough for your favorite dildo, isn’t it? Tell me.”

The boy under you takes deep, whining breaths, trying to calm himself down, before understanding he’s been given an order. “Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.” You pull the plug out even more, but push it in back, slowly, then back and forward again, creating a short rhythm that has Jonathan scrambling for a grip on the bed. “Let’s see how open you are.”

“Fuck!” Your words have him cursing out in ecstasy, but he then quickly recants. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Oh, Jonny. No need to apologize for that. So fucking hot when you curse.” You take the plug out as he whines, and leave it to the side. He’s stretched open, enough that you think you could fit the dildo, or two, maybe three of your fingers.

Still. Not open enough for you.

Your thumbs open his hole, making him clench around nothing. “You’re a good boy, baby. You did so much already. Can you stay good for me and let me stretch you more?”

“More?!”

You cackle. “Yes, sweetness. This is obviously not enough for my cock. I might hurt you if I fucked you as you are right now.” It seems like either your words alone or the situation in general make his legs stop working. He starts slipping down, almost collapsing on the bed, before you hold him up with your right arm. “Oh, what’s wrong, baby? Too much?”

“N-No— No, sorry, Sir. I’ll be g-good. Please stretch m-me more.”

You give him a low chuckle. “You are being good. Let me help you.” You stretch your left arm and grab the pillow in your bed, folding it in half to double its height. It goes under his hips now. “Lie down on it.” Jonathan obeys, but it’s obvious that he’s now incidentally found a place to rut his leaking cock against, because he moans so brokenly, but stills immediately. You decide to ignore this for the moment. “Better?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

You stretch until your face is near Jonathan’s and you give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Good.”

After this, you kneel up and turn your body around to look through the contents of his safe. Jonathan feels cold without your contact, but stays in his place.

“Will you let me use your favorite one?”, you ask him, pointing at the black dildo in the safe.

He has to turn his head a bit to see you, but bites his lip and nods. It seems like he’s a bit abashed now, because he doesn’t call you ‘Sir’ and rather hides his face in the bed while giggling this time, but this is not a conventional scene, so you don’t tell him off.

You just chuckle in sympathy. “Okay. Do you want me to use your lube?”

He struggles to talk, sounding muffled in the mattress, but then lifts his face up. “Wh-Whatever you find best, Sir.”

“That’s right,” you growl at him, fondling his ass and rubbing at his hole with your thumb. “Leave it to me.”

You take a condom from his safe and leave it to the side, next to the lube that’s already on the bed. Next, you take off your shirt, throw it somewhere around the floor, and start taking off Jonathan’s lower clothes. Once he’s completely bare, you pull off your own remaining ones until you’re both naked.

“Alright. This is what’s gonna happen,” you start, the authority in your voice leaving no place for argument, and Jonathan exhales shakily. “I’m gonna use this dildo in you, just to get you used to the feeling of a real man’s cock.” You rub the tip of the silicone dildo up and down his stretched hole, to which Jonathan whines. “Then, I’m gonna start adding fingers next to the dildo, so I can get you nice and open enough for my cock.” Your free hand fondles his right asscheek. “Then I’m gonna finger you a bit more, just because I feel like it. And then I’m going to fuck you.” Jonathan can’t hold back and moans as he tries to get more of your hand. “Sound good?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, yes, please, fuck me.”

You chuckle. “Eager.” You hold the dildo up. “You want me to use a condom on this?”

“Yes, please.”

Your face lowers to his ass and you leave a wet kiss on the cheek you were just fondling. “Good boy.” You reach out to grab another spare condom from the safe. You open it and lower it down the dildo. Then, you find the lube and spread it liberally on the sheathed toy. The tip of the tube goes on his ass, and you press on the tube to let some lube out. He flinches from the feel of it, and you chuckle. “Cold?” Jonathan nods, meekly. You close the lube, and leave it to the side for now.

Now, you hold the lubed dildo against his entrance, rubbing it around and softly pressing down to spread the lube.

“Ready?”

Jonathan nods and hides his face in the bed. He grabs the sheets for good measure.

The tip of the dildo goes in without much trouble, since he’s already stretched a good amount, but the way he clenches down repeatedly and moans is just so sinful.

“Oh, God. Sir.”

“Feels good?”

He nods quickly. “C-Can you put more in, please?”

Now you stretch over him and bite his nape. “Of course.” You push the rest of the dildo in him, slowly, but you think you could have done it all at once, since he takes it so nicely. The base of the dildo is flat and wide, easy to maneuver and push fully against his ass. “‘This a suction cup?”

“A-Ah… y-yes, Sir. Somet-times I like r-riding it.”

“That’s so fucking hot, Jonny. Maybe I’ll have you ride me sometime. How’s that sound?” You start pulling the dildo back, and then quickly push it in him.

He moans. “Y-Yes— Sounds s-so good, S-Sir.”

You lick a stripe up his spine to his nape, enjoying the unintelligible blubber he makes and the shiver of his body. “Good.”

You can only thrust in a few couple of times, receiving steamy moans from your boy every time, until he says: “Please! Stretch me m-more, Sir.”

“You want it now? But I was so entertained with this—”

“Please please please please Sir I need it.” His hips push the tiniest bit towards your hand.

“Oh, you got it so bad. Well. I guess I could,” you answer, like it’s a huge effort for you to give him this. Your right hand grabs the lube, opens it, and you expertly pour some on the same fingers that are holding the tube. Then you close it and leave it to the side. You rub your fingers together to spread the liquid better. Your left hand pulls the dildo out just a frame, enough for your right index finger to be able to press on his stretched rim, right under the dildo. “Just relax for me, baby.”

You let him take a deep breath before you start pressing down with force. Your fingertip starts opening his ass more, until it’s down to the first knuckle, then the second, and as Jonathan starts wailing and his feet moving frantically, you manage to fit the entirety of your index finger.

“Take a deep breath. That’s it. Just like that.” You soothe him and he complies. “You’re being so good for me. How does this feel? Hurts?”

“N-No, Sir. Just… different. Good.”

“Yeah, I bet it does. I’m gonna stretch you open so much, gonna make you feel so good on my cock.” He moans so loudly at that. “Only pleasure for you, sweetness. No pain.” You start moving both the dildo and your finger in and almost completely out of him in tandem.

“I— ahhh— I don’t m-mind a bit of—”

“Oh, yeah? You like a little pain? That mean I can fit another finger right now?” Your middle finger teases his rim, and his legs shake.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

So you begin pushing in the second finger, knowing it has to, at the very least, sting a bit, not having let him get used to the first finger yet. This time, it’s a tighter fit. The trembling in his body is almost frenetic at this point. He doesn’t know whether he wants you to keep going or stop, but you don’t give him a moment of respite until your second finger is all the way in.

He breathes in like he was just about to drown.

“Still good?”

This time, he takes a bit longer to answer. Some seconds pass until he nods, though it’s a more hesitant gesture now. The thumb of your right hand soothes the skin around his rim. Jonathan deserves a reward for being so good, so your thumb presses down against his perineum.

He screams.

“‘You ever done that? Play with your prostate from the outside?”

Jonathan moans like he’s crying and shakes his head.

You give him a small external massage on that place while you start a rhythm with both hands, in and out of him. Not much time passes until he no longer feels strung out, moaning freely and relaxing against the bed. Even now, as hard as he is and as much as you know he wants stimulation on his leaking cock, he hasn’t pressed himself against the pillow even once. He’s so obedient. You have no idea how you got so lucky.

You give him more of this, until he starts pushing back at you, just a minimum fraction. “C-Can you put another, Sir?”

“Of course, baby.” The ring finger is going to be the last one, you think. He’ll be sufficiently stretched after it, only enough to fit your cock but not too much. That way, he’ll truly feel the stretch, which is what you know he wants. So you start entering your last finger next to the ones already in, and this time, it’s a true challenge. There’s almost no more room. Not even the fingertip can be let in. “I’m gonna need you to relax more, sweetness. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good boy for me again?”

He’s breathing so noisily. He takes some seconds to try that before nodding. You press forward again, though not much changes.

“Try to push out a bit, yeah?”

“‘Push out’?!” He’s so scandalized at that that he laughs nervously, but still does as he’s told.

You’re now able to enter him better. The slide is difficult, made only a tad easier by the lube, and you manage to fit your finger bit by painstaking bit, until you have three fingers in him alongside the dildo.

Jonathan starts sobbing.

“Oh, Jon. Hurts too much?”

He can’t even answer. He’s so overwhelmed that he has to press his face against the bed to compose himself. “N-No,” is his hoarse answer. “I l-love it. I just… feel so full.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Your thumb gives him some stimulation. “Should I keep going?”

“Y-Yes, please. Sir. Yes, Sir.”

“That’s my boy.” You start a slow pace, still letting him get used to this. Jonathan’s hands grip the bedsheets on the sides of his head. His legs fold and shake, like he can’t control them. “You’re an angel. So obedient.”

He keens at the praise.

“So pretty when you cry, too. You’d make the best picture right now.”

“Oh my God.”

“Don’t you think? I imagine you could bring the camera next time and you could take pictures of yourself, crying as I’m fucking you.” You chuckle. “I mean, if you’re coherent enough.”

He does the most pornographic sound now, like he’s an animal in heat. “Fuck me. Fuck me, Sir. Please.”

The state he’s in is simply too good for the eyes. You grunt as you rub your untouched cock against his thigh, leaving a trail of precum on it. He makes a little trill when he feels it. “You sure you’re ready?”

“Yes, Sir. N-Need your cock. Need you t-to fuck me hard.”

You try to calm down and appear nonchalant. “Hmm…” You start pulling out the dildo and your fingers at the same time. He yelps, sounding almost pained when he’s empty. “I thought I was calling the shots here. I remember saying I would play a bit more after this.” With that, you press four fingers in him, an easy slide now that he’s so stretched, and start a ruthless pace in and out of him.

He screams so loudly, so high-pitched, that you’re almost afraid he’ll be hoarse by the end of this. “N-Noooo— please— Sir, I n-need—!”

You lay your left hand on his left cheek, not hard enough to slap, but hard enough for it to count as a tap, and he gasps. “I’ll give you what you need, boy. Now stay still.”

“Y-Yes— sorry, S-Sir. Th-Thank you, Sir.” Jonathan stills as much as he can, still loudly crying. The tears that roll down his cheeks make him look so debauched.

“My good boy.” Your fingertips press harshly against that bundle of nerves, and this has him thrashing for a second until your other hand gropes him hard, and he keeps still once more, but it’s a huge effort now. It’s a fast pace against his prostate now. You intend to have him beg for your cock even more before you cave in, but until then, you’re going to have your fun. You push out and pull in, fast and hard enough for his body to jiggle and for your fingers to tap his prostate hard.

He cries so much, whines like he’s being denied something. “Ah— Sir, I-I’m gonna come t-too soon— if y-you— keep—”

“Yeah? Ever come just from this? From playing with your prostate?”

He shakes his head, making small pleas here and there.

“Fucking hot. I bet I could make you cum on my cock alone.” Jonathan yells when he hears that.

You quickly pull your fingers out before he can start clenching repeatedly. He makes a shrill noise.

Your hands spread him. “Look at how wet and open you are for me. Did such a good job letting me in.”

And he cries so hard now. “Please!”

“It’s okay, baby. You did so good. You deserve a reward.” You wipe your wet hand on the sheets and grab the remaining condom. After tearing it open as quickly as you can and rolling it on your hard cock, you pour some of the lube. Then, you lay the length of your sheathed cock in-between his cheeks. “Feel how different this is. Very warm, right? Unlike your little dildo here. And so big, too.”

Jonathan moans so desperately, his words —if they can be considered that— unintelligible.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Gonna ruin you for all these toys of yours.”

“Oh my G— oh my God.”

You press the tip of your cock against his stretched entrance. Immediately, his hands reach back, looking for yours. You take his hands and stroke them. “Nervous?”

He takes deep breaths before answering. “Y-Yes.”

“I’m gonna start very slow, so don’t worry.”

“I-It’s— it’s not that. It’s— okay— you can g-go f—”

“You want me to go fast?” One of your hands, your right one, gives his own one last caress and you then grab your member. “Let’s just start slowly, yeah? Then we’ll see.”

Jonathan has nothing to say to that, because in the next moment, you start pushing in, easily, up to a certain point. He starts breathing in and out frenetically, almost to the point of hyperventilation, when the last of your head struggles to push in. He wails, he sobs, his legs kick against the bed, and he holds onto your left hand like it’s his lifeline. “Hurts.”

“Yeah? Should we stop?” Your right hand strokes along his back, trying to soothe him.

“N-No, I l-like it. More. Please.”

You chuckle. “Who knew you were such a size queen, Jon?” You don’t give him time to get used, then. Pushing forward more and more, you find he tries to push out at the same time, just like you’ve told him little time ago. Even that seems to only help him minimally. He grunts at the effort of fitting such a big cock in him. “Almost there, sweetheart.” You start giving him short thrusts, in and out, trying to get him acclimated.

“S-So full. So full, Sir.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Your short thrusts go further each time, until there’s only a very short space until you bottom out.

Jonathan’s left hand grabs onto yours strongly, but he’s pushing you to him now.

“Oh, you want all of it?”

With one forceful thrust, you bury yourself in him entirely.

Jonathan’s sound is undescribable. He sounds like he’s crying, babbling something, and choking at the same time. His body seems to lose all its strength, because he all but collapses on the bed in his position; the only reason why he’s still up is because of the pillow under him and your left hand grabbing his.

You’re afraid he might have passed out.

“Jon?” You shake his shoulder with your right hand.

He makes the most fantastic noise in response. It’s something so vulgar, so raspy, and it almost sounds like he’s gone stupid with pleasure.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Feel good? Doesn’t hurt?”

Jonathan doesn’t answer verbally at first. He makes sounds as if he were drawing in as much breath as he can, and then answers: “Uh-huh.”

“Gonna need words, sweetness. What does that mean?” You’re so amused at him, and at the same time think he’s the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

His left hand, which has sort of gone slack on yours, moves to let you know he’s not completely out of it. “It’s. G-Good. Hurts s-so good.” Before you can answer, he continues. “W-Want you to fuck m-me fast. Please.”

“Fuck, baby. You sure you can take it?”

“Y-Yes— I like n-not taking… not taking time when I…”

“Oh, I get it now.” Immediately, you pull back, and push in forcefully, making him scream. You start a fast pace right away as he thrashes as much as he can. “What a little pervert you are, Jon. You like pain,” a strong thrust, “…you like it big,” another even stronger one, “…and you’re so greedy you can’t even wait for it.” The force of your thrusts create loud slapping noises against his ass, only rivalled by his screams. “It’s like I got the fucking lottery, here.”

The fact that Jonathan didn���t want to get used to the size of your cock makes the beginning part of this so much more exerting. It feels like his nerve endings are on fire, and everything feels so much, overwhelming. He’s crying so loud it’s almost worrying, but he loves every second of this. Loves having to work to fit such a big member in him, have it fuck him so deeply, unlike any of his toys ever could. The searing heat of your cock has tears falling down his face. And the friction is undescribable. It almost feels like he’s not prepared enough, not lubed enough, but he is. He’s just too small in comparison to you, not made to fit something so big in him. But his hard work is paying off, because his insides keep stretching more and more with every thrust given into him, opening him so much that he feels as if you were carving your place into him.

“So fucking pretty when you cry, too.”

Jonathan moans desperately when he hears your praise. He’s so sensitive to it, even the smallest nice words can have him leaking more onto the pillow.

And then, in one of those thrusts, your cock presses down against his prostate.

“Sir!” He shouts it so loudly. “Again again please again.”

“That place feel good?” You don’t give him what he wants in its entirety. You start fucking against his prostate in random intervals, only enough to keep him on his toes, but not enough to overwhelm him. “Damn, Jonathan. I’m so deep in you, stretching you so much, I can feel it. You’re gonna be gaping so bad after this.”

For some reason, that’s his breaking point. He shocks himself with the way he’s suddenly cumming so hard against the pillow, untouched, while you struggle to keep fucking him through his clenching.

“Already? That’s so fucking hot, Jon,” you grunt as you start slowing your thrusts, but he shocks you with what he says.

“D-Don’t stop— please— don’t st-stop.”

You chuckle. “Y’sure? It’ll take a bit more for me, baby.” You continue your hard thrusts, not slowing down even a minimum fraction while he’s still in the last throes of his orgasm.

You know he’s done cumming when his moans start turning into desperate yells. When every single second of friction has him thrashing and screaming against you, you decide to test the waters. You lie fully on top of him, covering his chest with your back, opting to give him short, quick thrusts that dig deep into him.

“Come on. You wanted this, didn’t you?” Your cock inadvertently presses against his prostate without you meaning to, and his crying gets louder and more desperate. “Didn’t you?”, you have to repeat, just in case he’s about to regret it.

“Ah—! Y-Yes, Sir. I l-love it.”

“Yeah? You like when I use you?”

At that, Jonathan can do no more than wail and have his body try to curl in itself, unable to take the overwhelming sensations. “Yes! Please, u-use me, S-Sir. I’m y— I’m your t-toy!”

He’s going to be your ruin. Quickly, you encircle his torso with your arms and lift him so that he’s sitting up with you. “Hold onto my neck.” He’s so out of it that he doesn’t understand the order until you’re gathering his legs with your arms, hooking them on the juncture of your elbows, and then standing up, lifting him and dropping him on your cock while he scrambles for purchase on your neck.

“Oh my God.”

Your arms, still holding his legs, slide up his body until your hands manage to hook against his nape, and he’s now in such a vulgar position it could very well appear in the raunchiest of skin mags. Once he understands that he’s about to be fucked like this, in such a helpless position, he sobs even harder.

“Sir.”

[IMAGE - WARNING: 18+]

You fuck up into him harshly, keeping him in place with your strong grip, though the jostling of your thrusts moves him up a slight fraction. Jonathan’s hands scramble for a grip on your arms this time, feeling how deep this position allows you to reach. His eyes roll back with every strong push, feeling how it pushes against the deepest part of him, a pressure so intense it’s almost painful against the end of his walls. He feels almost as if you were thrusting right into his stomach with how big you are. And he wails when most of your thrusts push against his prostate. The frequency with which you’re stimulating it is too much for him, pushes him closer and closer to delirium the more time that passes.

You don’t talk now, too engrossed in witnessing Jonathan losing his sanity, even if you can’t see his face. It’s so hot to see how he doesn’t sob that much anymore, rather starts moaning, fully accustomed to your cock now. You hold him tighter against you and give him a short, quicker pistoning of your cock, and the gradual change is almost unbearable: his moans turn into high-pitched whines, then into simple gasps, and then.

And then he starts making noises that sound as if he were giggling. Laughing even.

“Oh, my boy,” you grunt near his ear, because you’re getting close, and then chuckle. “You’re losing it.”

The euphoria in Jonathan’s face will be unforgettable for sure. He’s simply so debauched, eyes rolling back and almost drooling from the overwhelming feelings. His hands barely holding onto your arms, since his strength is weaning. But he’s coherent enough to rasp out: “In me. C-Come in— me, S-Sir. W-Want you to c-cum inside. Want t-to cum with you.”

His words have you fucking him so roughly now that his previous loud moaning resumes. You’re almost there. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up even more?” It’s all useless talk since you have a condom on, but the visual is so stunning you can’t help but add fuel to the fire.

Jonathan can’t even speak from how stimulated he is, but he doesn’t need to. The crazed laugh he releases at your words is more than enough answer.

“Yeah, you do.” Your thrusts turn erratic. You growl at his ear. “Now, be a good boy and come.”

Almost as if on command, Jonathan’s body seizes, and something truly spectacular happens. He comes, he comes so hard that his mouth is open on a silent scream, and he comes so hard that he starts— convulsing in your grip, thrown into a full-body orgasm that almost pushes him off you.

His repetitive clenching is enough to push you to the edge. You fill the condom inside him as your thrusts halt in small bursts, all while grunting right into his ear.

His erratic movements are so prolonged, so intense that you’re worried about him, so you sit on the edge of the bed, then lie down, taking him with you as you do and lower his legs as softly as you can. Then, he stops.

His body goes fully lax against you just as the last of your orgasm ends.

“Jon?” You take his face in your right hand, unable to see him in this angle. You pull out of him with him still on top of you, and he doesn’t even make a noise, doesn’t move a single muscle. You lay him on the bed next to you and crawl until you’re face to face with him.

Right in that moment, he regains consciousness, coming to with a high-pitched gasp. He looks disoriented for a second.

“Damn, you worried me for a second, Jonny.”

He’d make the prettiest picture just like this. Debauched, clearly just fucked, hair messed up, tear trails down his cheeks. “H-How long—”

“Just a second, sweetheart.”

Jonathan relaxes against the bed, breathing deeply, until he regains his footing. Then, he smiles at you. “Thank you, Sir.”

You chuckle at him, and lie next to him, holding him close to you. “Why are you thanking me?”

It seems like he regains some of his bearings, because he gets shy again, and presses his face against your chest. “I dunno,” he mumbles against your skin.

He’s so precious. Only he could get this abashed right after the most obscene sex ever had.

“You were right. You ruined me for anything else. How am I supposed to use these now?” He vaguely gestures at the open safe you had totally forgotten was still on the bed.

You laugh out loud. “Well. It’s a good thing you’re not gonna need them anymore. Not when you have me.”

The cassette is ASMR, but I didn’t want to use that acronym specifically because I read that ASMR was invented around 2010.

And yes I put Jonathan in a full nelson in the end.

[thebdsmsofurlife]

Why I’m not over at your place right now is a mystery. Instead of going in to work today, I should have driven over to your place, tied you up, and spent the day playing with your helpless body. My rope holding you in various positions; spread eagle on the bed so I have access to torment your tits and your pussy; arms tied over your head while standing so I can spank your ass until it’s a pretty shade of red; hogtied so I can lay you in the bed while you suck my cock, and when I finally empty myself into your throat, put the gag back in place while I turn the vibrator on and watch you cum for me again and again and again. Just spending the day playing with my helpless toy, in lots of different positions, until your brain is mush and you can’t move your body even after the bindings are remove. So why didn’t I spend the day having you as my helpless little toy? I’m not sure. But tomorrow is another day.

[ceapa-mica]

The First Date 💌 - a Thrawn headcanon

I got so many views for my NSFW alphabet, I couldn't keep myself from writing another Thrawn headcanon! 🤗

This one is SFW, there's no mention of Reader's gender.

When Thrawn tells you he would like to get to know you better and asks if you want to spend the evening with him you agree without having to think twice.

Later you find a box on your bed containing a beautiful dress. Somehow it's exactly the right size and in your favorite color. You never told Thrawn either and are not sure how he could have known.

There are two places where a date with Thrawn could take place. One being his quarters on the Chimera and the other a not very well known city on a backwater planet.

Let's start with the scenario on the Chimera.

Your dress turns some heads on your way to Thrawns quarters. It's not regulation after all and the entire 7th fleet will gossip by the time your date is over.

Thrawn wants his private life to remain private. Unfortunately for you, that means lots of secrecy. He won't share words of love and affection in public, no physical touch beyond what is considered ‘professional’ either. You keep a strictly professional relationship during working hours.

Tbh either way, your relationship will be the biggest open secret aboard.

Thrawn assumed the dress would suit you well, but when he sees you wearing it in the flesh his heart skips a beat.

He ordered the good food, none of this mess hall mush, and a large portion too! It's the best food you've eaten since you joined the Imperial Navy. Along with that a bottle of fine Alderaanian wine he kept for special occassions - the expensive one!

Thrawn is suave af, and sincerely interested in you. When he said he wanted to get to know you better he meant it.

You are the first human he ever dated. It's a new experience for him and it fascinates him how different it is from dating a Chiss. Humans are just so much more expressive with their emotions. While this could be seen as a weakness by others of his kind, he admires it. He admires you.

You tell him about your life away from duty. Your family, your hobbies, your dreams and aspirations.

When, in return, you ask him about his life he starts talking about art. His favorite artists, art of cultures he admires etc. You're a little bit disappointed he leaves questions about his family and general heritage unanswered and skillfully turns the conversation back to your interests or his interest in art and warfare.

This is your first date, what did you expect? Thrawn has a mysterious aura for a reason. For him to tell you about his home you need to establish a relationship first.

It was a pleasant evening. He insists on taking you back to your quarters.

When you arrive at your door and make sure it's just the two of you, he leans in for a sweet kiss.

His lips are softer than you imagined. He tastes like the dinner you just ate and like something that's so distinctively him.

Being so close to him, you notice for the first time that under the scent of standard issue Imperial soap™ and aftershave lies his very own musky scent. He smells different from humans, somehow crisp like a winter breeze.

That moment of closeness passed too quickly for your liking. You wish each other a good night and he leaves you alone in your quarters.

Let's say you won't be able to sleep for a while, his kiss being the only thing on your mind for the rest of the night and the days after.

Now let's look at the other option - going out with Thrawn - a date away from the Chimera.

You meet at a small shuttle at the Chimera’s hangar. You notice it's the first time you see him unaccompanied by his death troopers outside his office.

You blink in astonishment at his attire. Instead of his pristine white Imperial uniform he wears a black civilian suit without the chest candy indicating his rank.

He refuses to tell you where he wants to take you. It's a surprise, but a welcome one.

The city he visits with you is only a short hyperspace travel away. The planet is relatively unknown, but it's rich with culture.

Before you leave the shuttle he takes out a pair of green shaded sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to laugh at his appearance.

He explains that he wears it for safety reasons. Leaving the safety of his fleet puts a target on his back, and being seen in public with you puts one on your back as well.

He takes you to a picturesque part of town to a small restaurant where you sit in a dimly lit corner.

You chat about basically everything I have already named above.

The food served in the restaurant is exotic, unlike anything you've ever tried before. You and Thrawn choose anything that sounds delicious from the menu. The food is better than anything the kitchen droids on the Chimera could ever cook.

Thrawn tells you he heard of this place’s excellent cuisine last time he visited the planet incognito to attend an art exhibition.

Slow jizz music plays in the background and it feels like time has stopped completely, at this moment it's just the two of you, you've only got eyes for each other. (He took off his shades since the corner where you eat is quite secluded) Thrawn feels the same and it intrigues him.

You're a little tipsy from the wine by the time you leave the restaurant. The date night is far from over though.

He takes you to a historic building that houses an art gallery.

It's the middle of the night, but Thrawn notified the owner, who he knows due to his past visits, and they let you in. You have the entire gallery for yourself with no prying eyes.

He explains different art styles and points out details you wouldn't have noticed without him.

You eventually come across a painting by an artist you've never heard of. You love the style, the image itself and how the colors compliment each other. It speaks to you in a way you can't explain.

Of course Thrawn knows all about said painting and answers all your questions.

You wonder why he has become a Grand Admiral and not an art critic.

You tell him how much you appreciate spending time with him. For once not occupied with destroying rebel cells, you get a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade.

Your words mean so much to him. There's a romantic tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Once the chance presents itself, he pulls you into a dark corner behind one of the large curtains, your faces are close, his gaze wanders from your lips to your eyes for consent.

As soon as you nod, his warm soft lips are on yours, the kiss gentle, but it quickly turns passionate as he deepens it, his tongue begging for entrance.

His hands start roaming your body. It feels like he's everywhere all at once, his unique scent surrounding you and his taste on your tongue. He's respectful though, keeping his hands away from intimate areas. It's your first date and you're still in public, remember?

During your little makeout session you lose your sense of time.

Tbh you wish this moment would never end.

Once you separate for air, he caresses your cheek. For a fleeting moment there is a softness in his scarlet eyes you've never seen before.

From that moment on he calls you 'ch’eo ch’acah' when you're alone with him. You don't know what it means at first. One day he will tell you, and it might be just the first of many Cheunh phrases you will learn from him. (it means 'my darling/beloved')

The evening went by way too fast for your liking. You both agree though that you enjoyed yourselves and want to go on another date in the future.

You return to the Chimera and he drops you off at your quarters before heading to his own.

You don't know where this blossoming relationship is going, but it definitely feels right.

Please keep in mind that Thrawn keeps your relationship secret to keep you safe from harm. Only at the point where your relationship is serious enough (like engagement) will he admit to it to others.

One more thing: A few days after your first date in the city you receive a package. It contains an exact replica of the painting you liked so much. It comes without a note, but you don't need one to know that your feelings for the Grand Admiral are in no way unrequited.

Let's visit a Thrawn relationship headcanon next time! This was only the first date.

Feel free to add to this headcanon! ❤️

[changingplumbob]

Woods Household: Chapter 2, Part 7

We spend some time with the voice in Samir's head.

CW: Low level sim spice. Content Warning Guide

Carrying on from last chapter, Samir has a voice in his head now that he's a werewolf. When it "speaks" to him, it will be in italics. When he answers back, just in his head, it will be bold.

When Samir finished his run he swung by the rec centre to switch the laundry over to the dryer. He’d just finished when Reece returned from campus for the day. Reece was rather shocked at Samir’s appearance. The glow he saw earlier may have been a trick of the mind but now it seemed like the red light was paired with a fiery glow from his partner’s eyes. Pushing it to the back of his mind as a likely headache symptom from a fast paced lecture he embraced Samir who sent him to do homework while the werewolf continued searching books for lore.

Reece sat out the back and reviewed the notes he did in class. It was like Keira had said, logical. Flourishing off some answers he heard the beep of the dryer. He went inside but when he opened it the clothes still felt damp. Holding his breath and hoping not to start a fire he sent the dryer on another cycle. He went back to his board right beside the dryer so that if anything caught flame he would be able to react.

Outside Samir felt the wolf within him stir, forcing him to his knees and shifting him. Growling he pushed himself back up, feeling his view become tinged with red.

Cute partner you got yourself. Shut up. I’d really like to take him to bed. Bet I could make him cum faster than you. But you are me… aren’t you? And I’ve already- Am I you? That is the million dollar question. Now, shall we go track down a killer. No! Why not? Are you scared? I’m not ready. I’d hurt myself. What’s wrong with dying trying? It would hurt Reece. Now get… out of… my HEAD!

Samir let lose a violent howl that caused some snow to fall of the branches of nearby trees. Clutching his head he felt that he had turned back in to his human form. The wolf was gone for now. Yeah he should talk to people who could explain...

Collecting Reece and the dried laundry he headed home. Reece had work to do on his presentations, so Samir left him to it in the spare room and turned his attention to the piece of bone he found earlier. It seemed to be a jaw that could fit on to the top part of the skull he had found ages ago. He remembered what Kristopher said about his eyes developing. Focusing he writes down what he can see on the pieces, part of the time his hand seems to move by itself.

Reece: Can I have a favour please boss

Samir: Huh? What’s up blondie

Reece: I finished collecting all that info for my presentations and I think my brain has turned to mush

Samir: Beautiful brain like yours couldn’t

Reece: I was hoping a little, or a lot, of you in me might put the pep back in my step? I still need to do my homework

Samir: *chuckles* Work, work, work

After their fun Reece planted one of the chrysanthemums inside, hoping the grafting wouldn’t be far off. Samir went back to the tunnels. He ran across a strong lockbox but it was wedged under too much debris to try shifting. Although he never clapped eyes on the wolf who had attacked him down here before he did feel like he was being watched.

Heading home Samir spotted Reece’s mum at their door and invited her in.

Samir: Blondie, your mum is here

Kayleigh: Hi ya honey

Reece: Hmm? Oh hi mum

Kayleigh: You busy studying

Reece: Basically

Samir left to go do some carving and Kayleigh waited until he was out of earshot. Well, it was human earshot.

Kayleigh: So tell me, when can I start planning a wedding

Reece: What are you talking about?

Kayleigh: You’ve been together, what? Four years

Reece: Yeah and?

Kayleigh: Oh honey you don’t have to get married if you don’t want to. But you know… some grandkids would be nice

Reece: Watcher! Keira has already said she's thinking of it, we don't all need to reproduce at once. Mum, I’m trying to study

Kayleigh: Yes but with my income I can support you. You don’t need to go to university

Reece: Maybe not, but mum I want to. I enjoy learning, using my brain.

Kayleigh: Hmm… Would you at least let me increase your allowance so you can expand this house

Reece: Mum! I’m capable of doing things myself

Outside Samir can hear the whole conversation and can feel Reece’s anxiety increasing. Time to swoop in and be distracting. What should- oh well there was one thing that was bound to distract her. Squaring his shoulders he goes back inside.

Samir: Kayleigh? Reece and I have been wanting to tell you...

Kayleigh: Have you impregnated him already

Reece: *wishing the ground would swallow him* MUM

Samir: No. Probably could if I tried though. I’m a werewolf

Kayleigh: Three sentences ! That's a- you’re a werewolf? But... they’re fictional

She looks at Reece in confusion.

Reece: He is a werewolf mum. They exist…

A silence descends and Samir can feel Reece’s joy that the spotlight is off his choices coupled with worry about how Samir was doing. Samir didn't like talking to anyone but Reece but he could do it. He'd do whatever he needed to look after Reece.

Samir: I made a sculpture for you... and Harvey

Kayleigh: Oh, thank you. So… werewolf… have you always been…

Reece: No not always but he is now

Kayleigh: And you are still happy together

Samir: Being with Reece is the best part of my life

Kayleigh: Well then who cares what species you are! Thanks for telling me. Can I tell your dad? He’ll have so many questions!

Reece convinces her the best thing to do is leave and brainstorm a list of questions with Harvey.

Reece: I am so sorry, she must have eaten the wrong kind of mushroom or been working with strong paints or-

Samir silences him with a kiss. Sometimes humans are just weird.

Outside the moon rises high, illuminating everything below.

Reece: I guess this means we won’t be sleeping together tonight

Samir: Not with this moon. Get in our room and lock it properly. I’ll see you in the morning *kisses* I love you

Reece: I love you to

Samir heads for the bathroom to try cool down. The full moon can’t be ignored though and he is forced to shift.

Did you miss me already. Hardly, you’re in my head all the time. Yeah but you ignore me unless it’s like this. Because I like to appear sane. Boring. So, who we going to hunt? No one. I am going to look for artifacts. I need to learn more about being a werewolf.

Samir stomps outside, the voice in his head continuing to protest.

I pissed you off talking about the boy toy didn’t I. I love him. Of course we do. That's exactly why we need to track down who killed your parents. No. Kristopher says I’m not ready. He’s a weakling who wouldn’t say boo to a goose. We need to find the killer and- NO. I just want answers. I’m not a killer. But maybe I am. What do you mean? Oh now you’re quiet. Fantastic.

Samir sniffs around for things buried beneath the ground, he finds a few of them to.

He continues through the night with the voice in his head providing unhelpful commentary every so often.

We should take him in the snow, that'd get him moaning. What? The hot, the cold, the sensations would be incredible. I’m not risking my partner getting frostbite. I suppose you’re right. Would be a shame for his pixel parts to fall off. No one asked you. I know you’ve thought about it. I’m in here remember. So what? When someone is turned on they think a lot of things, doesn’t mean they intend to follow through with them all.

Finally the moon loosens its grip and Samir can bring himself to shift back to being human. The voice is still there, obviously, but it’s quieter. Easier to ignore.

Previous ... Next

[hannahssimblr]

After a freezing, wet trek along the Clontarf seafront I turn into Michelle’s estate. All the houses have warm, yellow light spilling out the windows onto the grey, rain beaten pavement, inviting, yet it only reminds me of how grim this damn country is in the winter. It's been eight years since we moved here now and yet I still don't understand how people are supposed to cope with the winter. I suppose they don’t. I suppose we just accept that we will be a little bit sad for a while. 

They always leave the door off the latch for me on Tuesdays, they know I’m coming, and I let myself into the warmth of their home. It always smells good here, tonight like seafood and lemongrass, and whatever is cooking sizzles enticingly on the pan. I won’t ask for food, I never dare to, but if they offer I have yet to refuse them.

Rahim Tengu peers into the hallway as I shut the door. He is cooking in a suit. He’s always wearing one, even when doing things like mowing the lawn in the heat of summer. 

“Jude,” he says, “Wet outside, eh?”

“Yeah,” I take my shoes off and leave them by the door, “Whatever you’re making smells good, like always.”

“Nasi Lemak,” He says, “I’ll leave a plate for you when you're finished”

“Oh, thank you.”

He hesitates, “So how are your studies?”

“Yeah, good. Trying to get back into the swing of it since the new year. Fifth year is tough, you know?”

“Yes,” Another pause. Rahim is the most awkward of all the dads, he never knows what to say to me, but I let him think on it for another moment, brows knitted, spoon halfway to the pan, before I decide to put him out of his misery. 

“Jen upstairs?”

“Yes, yes, in her room.”

“Cool, see you in a while then.”

She’s sprawled out of the duvet with her earphones in, laying still like a corpse with her hands clasped on her stomach and white socks stacked on the pillows.

“Oh, you’re here,” she drawls. She doesn't even have to open her eyes to know it.

“You sound thrilled.”

“Ugh,” She flips to her stomach, pulls at her iPod cable and tosses the whole thing towards the head of the bed, “Come on, then, make me feel like a dumb bitch.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” I dig my maths notes out of my school bag and join her on the bed, “You been practising your trig?”

“That the one with the protractors?” 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

She lays still for a long moment, just staring into the middle distance before gathering the energy to learn. She falls onto her back and pulls the book I have opened toward her. “‘In the diagram, [AB] and [DC] are two parallel roads, where [AB] = 800m and [DC] = 500m. By measurement, it is determined that [<ABC] = 75° and that [BC] = 600m. Find [AC] to the nearest metre,’” She looks at me, eyes filled with hopeless despair, “How am I meant to know?”

“Well, do you remember what we went over before Christmas? The cosine rule?”

“Before Christmas? You might as well be talking a decade ago. I don’t remember anything that happened before last week. My brain is mush.”

I pull out my ruler, “Well, look, let’s start by drawing it out so we can visualise it, like this, then, we know that A² = B² + C² - 2BCcosA…”

“Do we know that? Are we sure?” 

“Jenny, yes. C’mon, we’ve done this.”

“I don’t think you understand how much I hate maths.”

“It’s not that bad, look, based on the cosine rule and the information we know already, we can write out the formula, right? x=(600)² + (800)² - 2(600)(800)cos 75°, so all you have to do is work that out.”

“Oh, is that all.”

“Yeah, so c’mere, hand me your calculator, it’s-” A shriek from the next room almost rattles my skeleton free from my flesh. 

“Why are you always like this?” It's Michelle. “I’m old enough! Just let me go!”

I glance awkwardly at Jen who is ignoring it, diligently punching the formula into her calculator and kicking her feet in the air. 

“When you demonstrate responsibility,” her mother screams back, “I will give you freedom, but until then…”

“Don’t look so shocked,” Jen says when she catches sight of my stricken expression, “You and Collette are like this.” 

“Not really. We don’t scream at each other.”

“This is just the volume they speak at here. It’s not as dramatic as it sounds. They're kind of just... having a conversation.” 

“Okay but you’re being such a bitch about it.” Michelle bites out, and I wince. 

“I don’t talk to my mom like that.”

Jen shrugs, “It’s not that serious, really, they don’t mean it. They'll be all lovey-dovey-happy-families again tomorrow. You get used to it.” she scribbles something onto her copy book and pushes it toward me “X equals 751533?”

I frown, “I don’t know, let me check.”

“Well you’re a nightmare of a daughter sometimes, do you hear me? I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to be up here shouting at you, but you drive me to distraction with all of this carry on!”

“Um,” my fingers hesitate on the buttons of the calculator, “So… it was… (600)² which is…”

Something clatters to the floor and they start shouting even louder. The corners of Jen’s mouth curl up, “Let’s take a break, yeah? We can drown it out with some music.”

“Good idea.”

She scrambles to fetch her iPod again and hands me one earbud. We lie back on the pillows while she puts on some whiny emo track about a guy who is either dying or wishing he was dead. 

“Are you traumatised by Michelle and her mam because it reminds you of your parents?” She leans over me and sweeps my hair from my forehead. I laugh, “You trying to therapize me?” 

“You said they fought when you were small.”

“Yeah but I only heard it a handful of times, I wouldn’t say I am traumatised.” 

“Still, I think there’s something lodged in your psyche about it, it’s why you hate conflict.”

“Nobody likes conflict.”

“Yeah but most people don’t avoid it like you,” She pokes my arm because I've looked away, “Hey, would you say that you’d rather run away from your problems than face them?”

“Did you steal that question from your counsellor?”

She pretends to be shocked, “Um, no! Excuse me.”

“You’re excused. Hey, would you like it if my voice sounded like this guy’s?” I tilt the iPod screen to her and point to the album cover guy who has blood pouring down his face. 

“First of all, that’s not the guy singing, that’s a cartoon. Secondly, I don’t know what you even mean.”

I lean into her ear and put on the whiniest voice I can in imitation of him “Hhhhwhat’s the worst that I can say… hhhthings are better if I stay…”

She snorts and shoves me off her, “Go away, you freak.”

“hhhAND IF WE CARRY ON THIS HHHWWWHAYAH…”

Jen’s bedroom door opens and I jump. Michelle stands there frowning. I hadn’t even realised in the midst of my caterwauling and our hysterical giggles that the shouting had stopped.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[icy-watch]

Hey so, you’ve been doing live blogs for awhile, and covering Ninjago like this was crazy with how many seasons it has, I was just wondering, why like this tho? Wouldn’t it be easier if you watched the episode then typed up your thoughts with any screenshots you want in a single post? Why in so many pieces? I guess maybe you find it harder to remember your live thoughts if you wait after the ep, I get that, but maybe pausing to type it all up in a document as you watch, and adding in the screenshots later? It takes you two and a half hours to live blog a single episode. You watch 2, sometimes 3 episodes a day while spending several other hours just, replying to everyone’s tags? Isn’t that exhausting and time consuming? Surely there are easier and more efficient ways? I totally understand liking to be engaged with people but every little tag on every little post, I think I’ve seen you go at it for five hours(?) if you like doing that, well. Aren’t there better ways or do you prefer this? I do livereads for fics when people ask, and that’s how I always did live ep reacts, so seeing how you do it is like :O how do you stand this without becoming physically ill from the work strain…

I've been sitting on this ask since this morning when I saw it. I hoped that spending some time with it on the back burner I would have a good answer for you. But honestly?

I liveblog like this bc it's fun.

I just... I want to have some fun. I'm mostly watching the episodes before I need to get ready for bed at night, and I'm replying in between things at work.

There's def easier and more efficient ways to go about this, but I haven't gotten tired of it yet. Yeah, my brain goes to mush every now and again when I'm reblogging peoples tags and comments, but I love seeing what other people have to say. And I love sharing their thoughts, opinions, and reactions to my liveblogs.

My current job is about 10x's more relaxed than when I worked in customer service 2 years ago. I have a lot more freedom now, and I can spend more time just kind of vibing. (Except when it's close to the end of the month. Then my mind is like a lump. RIP.)

I do try to limit myself on how long I liveblog - trying not to go over the 4 hour mark - without taking a break, but sometimes I'm just having too much fun. 💜

[caxde]

Hi loves!

Since we've hit 900 followers I've decided to use some promps from @keyotosprompts so you can request everything you'd like! Don't feel shy I love writing for you guys <33

super serious and put together b turns into pure mush at the sight of a. i'm talking the brain stopped functioning call 911 bc we think they suffered brain damage. no they're just in love with person a

having their own secret code. whether it be hand signs behind their backs, secret looks, or secret touches—as long as it's a secret then i will eat it up.

person b admiring how person a brightens up any room when they get excited. "the look of love" as some would call it

two people that help each other heal. they've both had rough pasts, and when they meet each other—initially they hate it but—things start to mend (hometown cha cha cha anyone???)

banter and teasing at first meeting, but the more they get to know each other, the more they begin to connect. 

person a + person b fighting over who has to sleep on the couch (they're staying at the other person's house), until they both agree on sleeping in the same bed together

friends to lovers but the other party did not consider them friends. (yikesssss)

"you lied to me! you kept lying straight to my face! and you expect me to forgive you?" "what are you talking about?! did you never get my letter?" "what letter?"

"you deserve better than me." "that's not your decision to make, that's mine."

person a's overworking themselves, so person b has to manually close their computer and put away their work and force them to sleep

person a has been attracted to person b since they last met at a short-term location (ex. airport), so much so that all of their friends know about person b and are desperate to find them so they can shut person a up. 

"i can't keep myself away from them. i think they have some magnetic force that pulls me into them" – person a/b. "i think that's called attraction and, call me crazy here, but i think you're in love with them." – person c, who is fed up. 

one night stand between person a and person b, whom were both drunk at the time. person b is in the middle of regretting everything and feeling like SHIT and gently admiring a the morning after because they're aware that nothing will be the same after this and this might even be the last time they will talk. 

person a comes out looking amazing, and person b is literally too stunned to speak. person b's hand is on their chest as if they're trying to catch their breath. person b so desperately wants to reach out and say something, until person a grabs person c's hand. 

[deepspacedukat]

Refill Required

I...have nothing constructive to add to this, so I’ll just say that I hope you enjoy this dirty-talking android villain mans. 😇

Day 12: Coming Dry

SoC prompt list here. SoC Masterlist here. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Lore (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Human/Android sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, coming dry, choking, slapping, rough sex, captor/captive (but they were already an item, so...more like an impromptu, unauthorized vacation?), established relationship, jealousy, degradation kink.

~*~

“How long do you think it’ll take them to fix the sensors and the engines?” The warm lasciviousness of a tongue caressed my neck, punctuating his question with a jab of arousal. “How many members of your pathetic little species do you think it’ll take to find you now that I’ve stolen you away?”

I couldn’t seem to make my tongue work. My mind had turned to mush about five orgasms ago - around the time my android lover showed me how his fingers could move with such speed and precision that he became a living vibrator.

The crack of bioplast on skin was followed by a small, involuntary yelp. Lore always did enjoy getting rough, but he was careful about my limits. He didn’t want to break his favorite little organic toy, after all. The occasional slap was more than welcome for both of us, though.

“Answer me,” Lore ordered, and I felt myself fluttering around his length again. He’d always been devastatingly good at making me fall apart for him. Given his fascination with me in particular, I supposed it had only been a matter of time. Lore taking me off the Enterprise at a whim was bound to happen eventually, and now that it had, I couldn’t find it in myself to be disappointed or angry.

“I-I don’t know. The senior officers, at the...at the very least,” I stammered, struggling for coherence under my lover’s harsh ministrations. “Th-the only way it would take less is if y...”

I realized what I’d been close to saying before it could even leave my mouth. If his brother got involved, we likely only had a few hours before we were found. When I trailed off, one of Lore’s hands secured itself around my throat like a lethal sort of necklace. He’d undoubtedly worked out where my thoughts had gone. Lore hated when I compared him to Data - even unintentionally.

“Speak your next words carefully. I may be fond of you, but it would be easy to crush the life out of you.” His threat had me tipping over into yet another wave of pleasure. Trembling and gushing around him, I felt his grip on my throat loosen by a fraction as a moan tore from his vocal processors. “This is why you’re my favorite organic. Even when I threaten your puny little life, you just can’t help but fall apart for me. Gorgeous little slut...”

As foolish as it might be, I’d fallen in love with the android, insults and all. He didn’t mean them. Not with me. He just enjoyed a bit of cruelty in bed. I’d figured that out early in our...could I really call this a relationship, in the traditional sense? He’d taken me out to dinner once, seduced me, and had been involving me in his mischief ever since, including a rather unfortunately timed tryst in the Captain’s Ready Room. We’d barely righted our clothes in time to avoid being caught in the act, though we did have to come up with a reason for being there rather quickly.

Now, as his hand collided with my ass and his teeth clamped onto my shoulder with enough force to bruise me, I smirked. It was worth it. Every single bit of trouble we’d gotten into and every measure of discipline he’d earned us was so worth the hedonistic pleasure we pulled from each other.

Data knew about us, of course. He’d assumed that I would be a good influence for his brother, but the opposite turned out to be true. If I’d smoothed any of Lore’s rough edges, then he’d chiseled a few into me. With him, I took more risks than I ever had on my own. Maybe the knowledge that he was so capable of protecting me was what made me feel as though I could get away with being more reckless than was probably wise.

A moan of my name drew me out of my thoughts and back to reality.

Lore let out several rough grunts as he came inside me, but...this time I couldn’t feel the accompanying gush of synthetic cum. Was I really that thoroughly-fucked?

A hungry hum of appreciation vibrated against my neck.

“Naughty girl. You’ve emptied my reservoir,” my lover whispered against my neck as he gave a few slow, grinding thrusts. He sounded almost proud. “Mmm, it seems your depravity runs deeper than even Soong could’ve anticipated, that old pervert. Such a good girl. After I give myself a refill, it looks like I’ll have to reward you for draining me dry.”

The gentle kiss he pressed onto my lips felt like both a blessing and a curse.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[praiseinchains]

Mental Reset Day (6/23/24)

I had a really tough week last week, between my neck hurting so much and just all the stress of my loan. I know I’m not the only one who thinks that if there was just a specific day or holiday that came along everything would be so much better, but the bad part of that is having to WAIT for that day and then just putting everything on that day to make you feel better. The last day I had, where I really just took a time out and relaxed from everything, was a few days after my 30th birthday. I spent the whole day just doing everything I loved that made me feel relaxed and making plans for my new year.

I didn’t want to wait for another special day or holiday to come along (like Thanksgiving, Halloween or Christmas), so I decided to make every Sunday sort of a ‘Mental Reset Day’ to unwind from the stress of the week. I started by writing myself a letter (much like I did for my birthday) and writing about how my week went, and how I could make it better the following week and just my general goals. Then at the end of the day, I wrote in my journal about moments that I really enjoyed and what my favorite part of the day was.

My favorite part was just taking the time to unwind and really focus on the things I want to do in life, like writing and exploring a career as a bookkeeper (something I’d tried to get into once before).

I really enjoyed having special time with Lucy (my cavapoo) on the bed. It was one of the rare times she behaves anymore and having her sleeping next to me on the bed really made my heart happy.

I’d say watching ‘The Finest Hours’ was one of the most meaningful moments. Not many movies can make me emotional enough to cry, but that one sure does. It didn’t mention God, but you could just see His hand at work. It was nothing short of a miracle and He put a spirit of courage and hope in those men that couldn’t be tamed. It was supposed to be an impossible situation, but He made it possible, and He brought the men and a community together, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s part of the reason God allows horrible situations to happen – not only to prove His power through ordinary people, but to draw them closer and inspire hope in others. (And yes, Chris Pine is INSANELY cute! I'm just mush when it comes to blond-haired guys, lol!)

If you don’t already have a day dedicated to just focusing on your mental health, you really ought to consider it. I’ve only had one mental health day, but I can tell it’s already making my week better and I look forward to next Sunday when I can have another.

[ja3gerb0mbb]

bloodsucker chapter 2: photograph

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

word count: 3k

content warning: none

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it was three am when i got back. i had just about enough energy to kick off my shoes, and throw myself onto the bed. my memory is cloudy after watching eren leave. jean probably took me and sasha home; he always does. even with my head feeling like mush,  my mind refused to turn off; i just started at the ceiling. eren was coursing through my thoughts like the alcohol ran through my veins. i kept asking myself why i seemed to care as much as i did. it’s just the draw from having mutual friends, is all  i chalked it up to.  

i flip over my phone next to me, checking the time. 5:42 it read. what the fuck? have i really just been laying here? i unzip my dress, pulling it off, before going to find a t-shirt to wear. for the first time tonight, i slip under the covers of my bed. looking toward my window, i notice it’s raining. nothing new. fall starts early in oregon. 

suddenly, my mind sobers up and my thoughts become clear as day. shivers are sent down my spine, and the hair on my neck seems to stand up. i adjust my position on the bed, sitting up to fully face the window. the dark that covers the earth blocks me from getting a good view, but i can't shake the feeling there are eyes on me yet again. 

the inscent blaring of my alarm woke me up just five hours later. my eyelids felt like they were glued together. today was another literature class. quickly, i threw the warm and comforting sheets off me to get dressed. honestly, the only motivation i had was the allure of eren. would he even show? with his previous track record i wasn’t sure.  

did i even want to see him? after last night.. i didn’t know. his hasty absence felt like it was my fault. but how could that be? we’ve barely spoken to each other, if you could even say that. with the damp whether, i opted for an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans. before leaving the dorm, i grabbed a monster. five hours was not going to be enough after the night i had. 

eren was already sitting down; in the same seat as yesterday. that’s good, right? there were a lot of empty seats, he could’ve just switched if he really wanted to. or he just didn’t care enough to. i carefully made my way up the steps, once again hyper aware of my body. overthinking is such a bitch. i pulled the chair beside him out, and he made no move. his eyes stayed trained on the front of the room.

“you were at reiner’s party,” it was more of a statement i spoke. i didn’t like his attitude towards me; but maybe he just needed to warm up to people. he briefly tipped his head in my direction, but his eyes made no contact with mine, “so were you,” his voice has lost all of the husk from yesterday. as i was about to make a snide remark, ackerman had walked into the room. still, eren didn’t seem to be in a talking mood. ever apparently. 

throughout the lecture, i found myself sneaking constant glances at the boy next to me, again. instead of being tied back, his hair was down and fell around his face. but he wore the same look on his face; exhausted. eventually i tuned back into the lecture when i heard “project.”

“-- research paper on the anglo saxon’s work. you can pick any you want, but you will be doing this with a partner since i will be expecting fifteen pages minimum,” groans were heard around the classroom. i glanced over at eren, who had no change in facial expression despite the hefty assignment just given. did he already know of someone he was going to work with? fuck. i looked around the room at my classmates for the first time to scope out my options. definitely not floch, i thought as i spotted his orange hair. 

when class ended, i took one more glance at eren who showed no acknowledgement towards me before making my way out of class. i decided decompressing with jean would lighten the brick in my stomach and changed directions to the dorms on the southside of campus. a few moments later, i felt a hand on my shoulder through my jacket, and turned toward it, slightly stunned. looking into my eyes were the green ones that belonged to eren. my eyes widened, and he didn’t make a move to say anything, almost as if grabbing me caught him off guard too. 

“do you already have a partner?” he asked with a huff, annoyed almost. “um, no,” i responded. 

“then you’ll do it with me,” he demanded with a flat tone. “your dorm or the library,” he asked but neither felt like he was granting me the option. i didn’t feel comfortable working in libraries; too many distractions which might work out well in this case. i contradicted myself by saying “dorm,” anyway. he tilted his head down in agreement, and he turned around. a few seconds later, i blinked and he was gone. i was taken aback, and fervently searched my surroundings: right, left, behind. but he was gone. 

he might’ve been a total ass, but i couldn’t keep the butterflies from fluttering in my chest. there was something about him that allured me. i shook my head in an attempt to scatter the feelings. before i could start walking again, my phone went off.

727 xxx xxx:

it’s eren

you:

hi eren

eren >:(

when did you wanna start

you:

does tmrw work?

eren >:(

yeah, 2pm ?

you liked a message

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the light outside slowly started to become dimmer as the sun set. jean’s dorm always had the best sunset views. with the ‘flannel’ candle burning, the ambiance in the room was almost romantic. but the sounds of ghasts growling on the monitor definitely ruined it. we played minecraft frequently, and tonight was no different. 

“fuck!” i yelled, “fucking skeletons keep killing me!” i lightly threw the controller in front of me. it had already been the third time i was killed in the nether, and i was over it. i got up from jean’s bed, pacing around the room. “can you chill? you’re worse than connie,” jean teased me. i rolled my eyes, and started fiddling with random things around his room. jean was used to me  snooping, but this time something new was in his nightstand when i opened the drawer. 

it was a picture of two boys. for a second the sounds from the monitor and clicking controller went silent as i realized it was jean. and the other boy eren. they both looked so different, it might’ve been taken as far back as high school.

jean was skinner, and his hair was shorter and styled differently. he still looked like himself. i couldn’t say the same for eren. instead of hair long enough to tie back, he had an undercut. jean still had a few inches on him in this picture, but the biggest change was his face. it was fuller, and there was a light in his eyes he was missing nowadays. his smile reached from ear to ear. i’ve never seen him smile… the picture was cut short by a torn edge on the left side. like someone had ripped it in half. 

“why so silent,” jean asked, taking a quick glance over, paying half attention. he did a double take, this time actually looking at what i was holding. “damn y/n, always a snoop, don’t touch that,” he said, peeling the picture from my hands. he walked it to the other side of the room, placing it in his wardrobe this time. “sorry,” i started. looking up at him, jean was staring at the floor.

“i didn’t know you were friends. i thought you guys hated each other.” his response came quick, “we do.” jean didn’t want to talk about it, but i did. anytime the group mentioned eren, jean was tightlipped. the only remarks he made ridiculed eren; i figured they never got along. 

“so.. what happened?” i asked. he looked over at me this time; his eyes were sad, blank. just like erens. he took a deep breath in, and let it out long before he responded to me. “he fooled around with historia our first year here. and you know historia,” i laughed though my nose. 

“then we started fooling around. i didn’t think it was a big deal. at least, eren never made it seem like he and historia were a big deal. i still don’t think they were, but he got so mad at me.” the sadness had returned to jean’s eyes. “we got into a fight, and before either of us tried to make amends, he was just… gone. no one heard anything from him for a whole fucking year. we all just assumed he was in love with historia and couldn’t take it.” he was staring at the floor again. i walked the distance to him, crawling over the bed. “i’m sorry jean-boy,” teasing him to lighten the mood. 

my hands were wrapped around his torso in a half hug. jean pushed me off, “fuck you,” he laughed out. he reached his hand out to mess up my hair before saying, “stay away from jaeger, y/n. he’s not like he used to be.” it didn’t come as a surprise; even i could tell something was off. 

he walked away, grabbing the controller i threw earlier, and shoved it back into my hands. “come on, i need help getting blaze rods,” he said with a light smile. i went back to playing the game, but i wasn’t really paying attention as i mulled over jean’s story the rest of the night. it made sense; in theory. but historia was never one to get serious with anyone at all. even ymir; they have a complicated ‘relationship.’ it was hard to imagine the eren i knew falling in love that like, but people change i guess. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the next day, school work started to pile up. after procrastinating for the first few days, i had a ton of deadlines to meet tonight. a knock at the door drew my attention away from the laptop. i knew i was the only one home, so i went to answer it. behind the door was eren, i can’t believe i fucking forgot! 

i pulled the door wider, inviting him inside, “is it already two?” i became self conscious, knowing i hadn’t bothered to put myself together today. “yeah, is it not a good time?,” his voice finally displayed some sort of emotion. he raked his eyes across my face, i diverted my gaze down in response. 

“no it’s fine, just set up on the table,” i point to the sorry excuse we had for a dining table. it was an old beer table from reiner we set up while waiting for our furniture to ship. i made my way back to my room to get materials for the projects. did i give him my dorm number? the question nagged at the back of my mind. i blurted the thought out. he gazed over at me, keeping his features and tone even and dull, “i asked sasha.”

“oh,” was all i said. my feelings were.. hurt? maybe he texted me and i didn’t see it in time? maybe he didn’t want to bother me? it was easier to come up with excuses than face the fact that he would rather text my roommate for our number than me. whatever. 

i pretended to know what i was flipping the pages of my book for. “any ideas on what text we should analyze?” he asked while tying his hair back. his veins popped out on his exposed forearms and i had to adjust the way i was sitting. before responding, i had to swallow the knot in my throat, “i’m not set on anything, maybe judith?”

eren didn’t take his eyes off his laptop. “it’s kinda short for fifteen pages,” he trailed, “i was thinking beowulf.”it surprised me he was taking initiative. his lack of expression led me to believe i would be doing this project all by myself. “beowulf works.”

we worked for a solid two hours; rereading the text and forming our ideas on themes. he might’ve been putting in effort, but it was strictly school related. don’t complain, i tried to convince myself it was okay he didn’t make it personal. even with all the time we had spent, we weren’t close to finishing. “do you want to take a coffee break?” i asked, “there’s a dutch right down the street.” 

“sure, my car?” i nodded as we made our way out the door. i wasn’t expecting him to walk toward the all blank bmw m4. damn. eren made his way to the passenger door, and to my surprise, opened it. the gesture was sweet, but his face showed a veil of annoyance. the car’s inside was pristine; like no one had ever even driven it before. it’s not what i would’ve expected from him. 

the short drive there would’ve been silent if not for the music playing. fidgeting with my fingers was the only thing that seemed to pass the time; too scared to really say anything to him. he reached his hand over, turning the volume dial down, “what do you want?”

“blended redbull,” i spoke, my voice scratchy from barely using it the whole day. he nodded and placed our orders with the overly-friendly dutch employees (ifykyk). when he handed my drink over, i had the courage to talk while the music was still down. “thanks…”

“you’re not much of a talker,” i realized how rude it sounded as soon as i said it, and it was confirmed when he shot a glare my way. “you aren’t either,” he sipped from his latte. “yeah, because you don’t seem to want to talk to me.”

“i don’t want to talk to anyone,” eren’s gaze was back on the road. his features were still, but i noticed his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. it must’ve been a pretty hard grip since his arm muscles started to flex with the pressure. 

“geez..” i scoffed, “any reason, or just not a people person,” the taunt was light, but it was there. 

“i have to have a reason?” he phrased it as a statement. logic told me this was just how eren was. but my mind kept making up its own excuses; telling me he just has something against me. “is it because i’m friends with jean?’

“what?” he seemed genuinely surprised by my asking. “do you not talk to me because i’m friends with jean?” i reiterated. 

he looked away from the road, back into my eyes. i could see the fire in them now. i was pissing him off, “why would jean have anything to do with that?”

“he’s the reason you left, no?” i presumed. jean wouldn’t lie to me, and he sounded sincere. “no. he’s not.” eren’s answer was definitive. bringing his gaze back on the road once more, his jaw ticked shut. it somehow became even sharper, and i could faintly hear the grinding of his teeth. i took that as my sign to shut the fuck up. whatever was going on was bigger than me, bigger than our friends. 

the car made a sharp turn back in the parking lot. eren pulled into a spot with his foot still on the accelerator. he slammed on the breaks, and shoved the gear shift in park. his movements were fast and angry, but not aggressive. just rushed. like he wanted to be anywhere but here. with me. eren opened his door, exiting the car so i mimicked his movements. we made our way back to my dorm, but he led the way as if it were his own we were going back to. 

grabbing his things, he didn’t bother to pack them. just grabbed them within his arms, “we’ll finish it another day,” once again he left no room for disagreement. “i’m sorry, i didn-”

“don’t apologize.” he shot me a look of what looked like disgust. his face had gone back to being blank, but his eyes were still blazing. they had life in them again, but this time it wasn’t happiness that awakened it like the picture with jean. eren was out the door in a split second, the sound of the door closing was the only thing my mind registered. i stood in the living room in the dim light, in awe for a few moments. he gets set off easily.. i guess. i might be able to pry with my friends, but it was off limits around eren.

maybe it’s fucked up to be happy that i made him angry. but that’s what i was. i finally got something out of him that wasn’t entirely emotionless. it proved he was even human. the feeling didn’t last long; he crumbled everything i thought i knew about the situation regarding his disappearance. now i was no closer to figuring it out than when i met him. it doesn’t matter, i kept repeating to myself, trying desperately to believe it. i still had a night full of deadlines; so i pushed my emotions as far down as they would go and focused on what was real and in front of me. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[queenofbaws]

Here to bother you one last time before I head off to bed, but in my tired state I find myself craving some of that good ol' soft sleepy chrashley that just manages to turn me right into a lip quivering pile of mush lol. So if you find that you have time for one more from me today then you know that I would ever be in your debt 😊(as per the usual jahdjkashd)

It took him longer than it probably should've to realize she'd conked out. In his defense, it was an easy mistake: She'd been slumping as she worked through her essay, her head propped up on one hand as the other filled page after page with literary analysis of some book he'd never have the attention span enough to read, much less think about, and at some point she'd just...nodded off like that.

"Ash," Chris whispered, unable to help but grin when he saw she was, in fact, down for the count, "Ashley...AaaAaAaAaaashhhleeeeey..."

Much as he wanted to laugh, she'd been running herself ragged those past couple days, and the last thing he wanted to do was risk waking her; instead, he oh-so-gently reached over and slid the pencil out of her hand, setting it down on the table before standing. Quietly, he unzipped his hoodie and draped it over her shoulders as a makeshift blanket, careful not to make any especially sudden moves, then pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

It was an accident, really, his eyes drifting down to the notebook she'd been writing in...but when he realized what he'd thought was an essay actually appeared to be some sort of fanfiction, well...he figured one good deed was payment enough, and sneakily lifted it from the table to read as much as he could before she woke up.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!