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#genuinely i just can't with this. we've been doing this for over a year
bendgineer · 1 month
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I think one of the reasons the Harris / Walz ticket has so much momentum is because the campaign is genuinely trying to put out this vibe of fun. Like that's all the "brat" thing is, the coconut jokes, just being kind of silly and fun.
And I think it's working, because let's be real, we are all exhausted. It's been all about preserving democracy, defeating fascism, the past eight years. The message has been "vote for us because the country is literally on the line". The vibes are not good when we are stuck back at that fight, and not even discussing trying to make progress on things like housing, healthcare, education, etc. And the fight to just stop fascism? All still true. Project 2025 is real and is extremely scary. We can't let that man back into office.
But the vibe was "vote for us otherwise we're all fucked :(" and now has shifted to "get in, we're making popcorn and then bullying fascists." Like a lot of the issues conservatives bring up, the Harris / Walz is just not engaging them in good faith, as they shouldn't. Republicans bring up abortion, and the Dems are just like, "you want 14 year old to give birth? Weirdo" and just leave it at that. Like YES, that's what you should do. Because it SHOULDNT be a debate. And it's working. This is how you defeat the identify politics thing Republicans have been trying to push for a while. Just mocking them for the stupidity of it all. "Like seriously? You think a book can make someone gay??? Hahaha." None of the Republicans are reacting well. They can't stand it. Vance even complained about bullying!!! Like do you KNOW who picked you as vp??? It's actually laughable, because they have no room to stand on when it comes to bullying.
And a huge part of the mocking and dismissing of Republicans is that the message is clear - were done debating all this stupid stuff. We've won the last two elections' popular vote - most Americans do NOT want christo-facism. It's time to move on. And that's what gives me hope, and the feeling of hope I think a lot of people have picked up on. It's time to address all the issues we've all wished we've been addressing the past decade. It's important we move onto that, and that's the message I'm getting from this campaign (We're not going back). I think it will resonate with a lot of people, because plainly, we're all just sick of this same old news cycle and fake rage bait over things like "should women have rights?", "Should gay people be allowed to exist?" The general populace have answered YES to both these multiple times, and it is time to move on. Maybe I'm being naive, but I am genuinely excited at the idea of putting to bed these debates (it's exhausting trying to fend your very existence) and moving on to actual economic and social policies that could fix a lot of deterioration over the last 2 decades.
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neverendingford · 29 days
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#tag talk#was talking with my brother about being plural and like. I'm kinda the tough rough protector cliche one#and I was talking about wanting my other half to be happy and he hit me with something I'm still mulling over.#he was like “you talk a lot about wanting her to be happy. does she want you to be happy?”#and like. chat words cannot describe how much that threw me. it's my job to take the blows. to front when we're in danger and in pain.#I don't think she gives a shit whether I'm happy. she hasn't learned to care about me as a separate person.#I care about her because that's my job. I'm the fucking trauma alter or whatever. but she doesn't care back.#and we really need to have this talk once she's back. she's asleep right now cause we've been having real bad migraine and I've been dealing#but once things aren't so bad we need to have a fucking talk#I'm not happy being restricted to a relationship I'm not interested in. I don't want to date our partner and that's whatever#but I can't even go out and get fucked properly because even though *I'm* not in a relationship my second half is.#like. goofy ah situation where two people live in a single body so one of them is celibate in order to keep the other one monogamous#like. how the fuck do I do this? if he calls me babe or baby or my love one more time I'm gonna kill us both I hate it.#she likes words of endearment like that and I would rather die. she likes kissing him but I don't like kissing anyone in general#and this whole time I've been expected to just go along with everything because she just bulldozes me out of the way.#I tried to break up with him and she took over the next day and got us right back together again with apologies and letters#because she's genuinely emotionally happy with him and I'm happy for her because I do care.#but I'm not happy with the situation and I don't think she actually cares that I'm not happy. she's caught up in her own shit#and I'll admit I do like him. the partner. we communicate really well and we kinda click yaknow?#and I really do want to keep him as a friend long term#but I can't fucking do this I'm not monogamous I just wanna go get fucked good and rough and he's insufficient for that#one of these years I want to go to Folsom Street Fair. I've read a ton about it and it looks so fun.#I just wanna be sexually liberated and unfortunately I'm stuck in this body with a hopeless romantic#anyway. we've got a lot to sort out here.#I just. she does care but she gets so caught up in her own shit that she forgets to consider other people.#and weirdly enough I count as other people even though we're kinda(?) the same person#pretty similar music tastes. relatively similar fashion styles. same body and same childhood goes far in making you similar people#and yeah. I'm aware she's the more developed one. I don't get nearly as much screen time as she does. but I'm making up for lost time#idk. if I'm stuck here I may as well make the most of it.#also wanna know something funny? I think I'm the one who's tried to kill us every time. no way she ever had the guts to do it.
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nbstevonnie · 6 months
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gilbertscurls · 8 days
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Kiss Me More ➵ Matt Sturniolo
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warnings: alcohol, drunk sex, soft!dom!matt, unprotected p in v, praise kink if you squint
synopsis: matt just wants to show you how much he's learned.
kind of a part 2 of "taste", but can be read as a stand-alone.
The kitchen was warm and dimly lit, the hum of the party in the background mixing with the clink of glasses on the marble countertop. Matt leaned against the fridge, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, eyes glassy with a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You stood across from him, a half-empty solo cup in hand, your laughter light as you swayed a little, leaning on the counter for support. You had slipped away from the crowded living room, where Matt’s brothers were holding court with their usual boisterous energy, to find some quiet in the chaos.
“I still can't believe you hosted this party,” you teased, running a finger around the rim of your cup. “I thought you hated big crowds.”
Matt chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, my brothers insisted. They’re more the ‘let’s invite everyone and their cousins’ type.”
You arched an eyebrow. “And yet here you are, playing the gracious host.”
He shrugged, glancing down at his drink. “It’s not so bad. Especially now.”
Your eyes softened at that, your smile becoming more genuine. “Especially now?”
Matt’s gaze flickered to meet yours, holding it for a beat longer than usual. “Yeah. Especially now.”
The air between you shifted, the laughter of the party fading into the background as the moment settled between you, charged and uncertain.
As Nick and Chris dashed by, Matt couldn't help but roll his eyes.
“They're getting rowdy, huh?” he noted, shooting a sideways glance at the door.
He took another sip of his drink, summoning up his courage. Now or never.
“So, um… I've been thinking about something… And I wanted to talk to you about it.”
His heart was beating a little faster, and he could feel the alcohol coursing through his veins, making him feel both more relaxed and more anxious at the same time.
Matt knew that this wasn't the ideal time to bring this up. You were both slightly drunk, and his brothers were making a racket in the next room. But he also knew that if he didn't talk to you about this now, he might never find the courage to do it later.
He took a deep breath and started to speak, forcing the words out before his brain could stop him.
“I've been thinking about… Well, about us.”
He felt a pang of nerves as he said the words. Even though you had been together for over a year, he still got butterflies in his stomach every time he talked about your relationship.
“I know we've been together for a while now, and everything's been great,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “But… I've been wondering if…”
He trailed off, feeling a wave of anxiety rising in his chest. Was he crazy for asking this? Was he pushing you too far? He had no idea how you would react.
He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I… I mean…” he paused, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment. “I mean… I want us to be… More intimate with each other.”
He blurted out the words before he could stop himself, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He felt like a complete idiot, saying these kinds of things so bluntly. Maybe he should have waited until you were both sober.
Matt could see the realization dawning on your face, and he felt a mixture of relief and anxiety. At least you understood what he was trying to say now.
But he had no idea how you were going to react. Would you be offended that he was bringing this up when you were both slightly drunk? Would you think that he was being too pushy?
“Well…” You smirked a little, resting your hip against the kitchen cabinet. “You're not a virgin anymore. There's nothing in our way.”
Matt felt his cheeks flush at your words, and he tried to hide his embarrassment by downing the rest of his drink.
“Yeah, I… I know that,” he said awkwardly. “I mean, I just…”
He paused, trying to find the right words. Why was this so hard to talk about?
“I guess I just… I want to feel more… Connected to you,” he said lamely. “I want to be closer to you, in every way possible.”
He felt like an idiot, saying something so cliché and cheesy. But it was the truth. He wanted to be closer to you, to share more intimate moments with you.
“I just… I just don't want to mess things up.”
He felt a pang of insecurity, feeling like a complete loser for admitting that he was nervous. Even after a year of being together, he still sometimes felt like you were too good for him.
You smiled softly, caressing his cheek. “You're not gonna mess things up. It's okay.”
Matt felt a wave of relief wash over him as he heard your reassuring words. He knew that you were right. You had been together for a long time now, and you had never given him any reason to doubt your feelings.
He leaned into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers against his skin. He knew that he was overthinking things, as usual. But he couldn't help it. He was hopelessly in love with you.
“You really think so?” he asked, his voice a little shaky. “You don't think I'm being too… Too pushy or something?”
He looked into your eyes, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He wanted to be closer to you, but he didn't want to rush you or make you uncomfortable.
“Oh Matty…” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek on his shoulder.
Matt wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He felt your head rest on his shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat.
He loved it when you called him that nickname. It made him feel safe and loved. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent and letting the alcohol loosen his tongue.
“I just… I just want to be close to you,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “I feel like… I feel like I'm never close enough to you.”
He tightened his arms around you, feeling your body press against his. Despite his insecurity and nervousness, he couldn't deny the intense desire he felt for you.
You smiled tenderly, snuggling even closer to him, your hands gently rubbing up and down his back. “Yeah. I need to be under your skin, maybe then I'll be close enough,” you joked.
Matt chuckled, feeling his heart swelling with affection. God, he loved you so much. He pulled back a little so he could look at your face, your eyes sparkling up at him.
“You have no idea how badly I want that,” he said, his voice low and intense. “You're already so deep under my skin, it's crazy. And I still want more.”
He felt a pang of impatience, a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He knew that you were both drunk, and he knew that he probably shouldn't be getting so worked up like this. But he couldn't help it. Being this close to you, feeling your body pressed against his, was enough to drive him crazy.
He rested his forehead on hers, his breath coming in short pants. He could feel your breath against his face, the heat of your body against his. His heart was racing, and he felt a lump in his throat.
“I just… I just need you,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I need you so much, it's like a need a damn drug.”
You chuckled softly, feeling the heat of Matt's breath against your face. “I know, love. I can feel it.”
You could feel the tension in his body, the way his heart was racing against your chest. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, the scent of his skin. It was intoxicating. You reached up, gently tracing the line of his jaw with your fingers. You could see the desire in his eyes, the intensity in the way he was looking at you.
You couldn't deny that you felt the same way. You wanted him, needed him, craved him. You wanted to be close to him, to feel his body pressed against yours. But you knew that you were both drunk and emotional, and you didn't want things to get too carried away.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your own racing heart. “Matty,” you said softly, your voice a little breathless. “Maybe we should slow down a little, huh? We're a little tipsy.”
Matt groaned softly, his body aching with unfulfilled desire. He knew that you were right, that you were both a little too drunk to make clear-headed decisions. But the alcohol and the hormones were clouding his judgment, and all he wanted was to lose himself in you.
“I know, but… But it's so hard,” he muttered, his voice thick with need. “I just… I just want you so bad.”
You smiled sympathetically, feeling a pang of desire in your own gut. You knew how he was feeling, and you knew how hard it was to keep your own desires in check.
“I know, baby,” you said gently, stroking his hair. “But we need to be smart about this. We're both a little drunk, and I don't want us to do anything we'll regret later.”
Matt closed his eyes, feeling a wave of frustration wash over him. He knew that you were right, that you needed to be sensible. But he hated that you were being the voice of reason when all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch you, to taste you, to be as close to you as possible.
“I hate it when you're right,” he muttered, his voice rough with frustration.
“You're a little more drunk than me,” you said softly. “I just don't want to take advantage of you or anything.”
Matt opened his eyes again, looking down at your face. He knew that you were trying to be responsible and thoughtful, but all he could think about was how badly he wanted you.
“You wouldn't be taking advantage of me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I'm a big boy, I can make my own decisions. And I want you. So damn badly.”
He let his hands wander down your body, running over your curves and settling on your hips. He pulled you closer, pressing himself against you. He could feel the heat of your body through your clothes.
“God, I want you so bad,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. “I don't care if we're both a little drunk. I just need you, right here, right now.”
“What, you wanna prove to me just how experienced you are all of the sudden?” you teased.
Matt felt a pang of desire and a hint of embarrassment at your teasing, but he tried to play it cool.
“Well…” he said, his lips curling into a cocky smile. “Maybe a little.”
He pulled you even closer, his hands continuing to explore your body. He could already feel himself getting hard, just from being this close to you.
“Besides…” he said, his voice low and husky. “I've been doing my research. I've been watching… Stuff.”
He gave you a sly smile, knowing that he had you curious now. He was definitely feeling more confident after a few drinks, and he was determined to show you how badly he wanted you.
“Did you now?” you asked, your tone amused.
Matt nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. “Yeah,” he said, his hands moving over your hips and down to your thighs. “I've been… Studying. Reading up on things. And watching some very informative videos.”
He gave you a wicked smile, his hands squeezing your thighs gently. He knew that he had your attention now.
“I don't wanna brag or anything,” he said, his voice dripping with bravado. “But I like to be… Prepared. And I thought it would be a good idea to… Expand my knowledge, you know?”
His smile widened and his eyes darkened with desire. He was enjoying this little game, reveling in the effect he was having on you.
“And I have to say, I've learned a lot,” he continued, his hand roaming further up your thigh. “I've picked up some… Techniques that I think you'll really like.”
He leaned in a little closer, his breath hot against your neck. He could feel your body responding to his touch, could feel your breathing becoming more ragged.
You smiled playfully. “So, I take you'd want to try being on top this time, huh?”
Matt felt a jolt of excitement at your words, his body responding immediately. He loved the idea of being in control this time, of having the opportunity to show you just what he had learned.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “I definitely want to try that.”
You smirked, downing your drink. “Lead the way, Mr. Expert.”
Matt's heart was racing with excitement as he led you to his room. He could feel the anticipation building inside him, his body thrumming with desire. He pushed open the door and led you inside, feeling a sense of dominance and control.
He turned to face you, taking in your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Get on the bed,” he ordered, his voice taking on a new authoritative tone.
“Oh, bossing me around now, aren't ya?” you teased, but obeyed nonetheless.
Matt couldn't help but smile at your teasing, feeling a thrill of excitement at your compliance. He watched as you lay back on the bed, your body spread out in front of him. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch of you.
He moved closer to the bed, his footsteps heavy. “That's right,” he said, his voice authoritative. “I'm in charge now. And I want you to do everything I say.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest on your legs. He ran his fingers up your thighs, feeling the smooth skin beneath his touch. He could see the effect his touch was having on you, the way your breath hitched and your eyes darkened.
“You're going to be a good girl and do everything I ask, right?” he asked, his voice taking on a suggestive tone.
Your heart was racing with anticipation as Matt came up with an idea. You couldn't deny that you were a little intrigued, and a little excited. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.
“Are you sure about this?” you asked, your voice a little hesitant.
Matt nodded, his eyes dark with desire. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and confident. “I'm so sure. I think it'll be fun. And I think you'll like it.”
He bent down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Trust me, babe,” he whispered. “Just lie back, relax, and let me take care of everything.”
You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you felt his breath against your skin. You trusted him. You knew that he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. And you had to admit, the idea of surrendering control to him was a little exciting.
“Okay,” you said softly. “I trust you.”
Matt smiled, feeling a surge of satisfaction at your words. He loved that you trusted him, that you were willing to let him take the lead. He moved to kneel between your legs, his hands roaming over your thighs.
“That's my girl,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Now, just relax. And keep those eyes closed.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck. He nipped and kissed his way down your throat, his hands sliding up to your hips. He pushed your shirt up, exposing more of your skin to his touch.
“You're so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning over your skin. “So vulnerable and open for me.”
He continued to explore your body with his hands and lips, his touch firm and confident. He could feel you respond to him, your body arching up to meet his touch. You were fully surrendering to him now, completely at his mercy. And he loved it.
He pushed your shirt up further, his lips brushing against your breast. He teased your nipple with his tongue, feeling your body squirm beneath him. He could feel your breathing quicken, your heart racing beneath his touch.
“You're doing so well, babe,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Just keep your eyes closed. Keep trusting me. I'm going to make you feel so good.”
He pulled back for a moment, drinking in the sight of you lying there, flushed and beautiful and completely at his mercy. He felt a rush of power and excitement, his own body thrumming with need.
He leaned back down, his hands moving to the waist of your pants. “Now, be a good girl and help me get these off, okay?” he whispered in your ear.
Your body was on fire, your skin tingling with need. You could feel his breath in your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. You lifted your hips, silently obeying his command.
You felt his fingers slide over your skin as he pushed your pants down, along with your underwear, his touch rough but gentle at the same time. You shuddered, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. You felt him move back between your legs, his body pressing against hers. His hands roamed over your thighs, his touch firm and possessive. He was taking his time, seeming to savor every moment, every touch.
“You look so good right now,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper. “So beautiful and open for me. I could look at you all day.”
You felt his hand move between your legs, his fingers trailing over your skin. You gasped, your body arching up towards him, seeking more of his touch. You couldn't deny how good it felt to be completely at his mercy, to let him take control.
“Mmm… Matt…” you breathed, your voice shaky with need. “Don't stop. Please.”
He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to explore your body. “Don't worry,” he whispered, his voice low and throaty. “I don't plan on stopping anytime soon.”
He bent down, his lips and tongue joining his fingers, teasing and tasting you. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to drive you wild with desire.
You couldn't help but moan, your body writhing beneath his touch. You could feel the tension building inside you, the pressure mounting. You were completely at his mercy, completely surrendered to his touch.
“Please… Please, Matt,” you gasped, your voice pleading. “I need you. I need you so bad…”
He could hear the desperation in your voice, the need in your words. And he loved it. He loved knowing that he had this kind of effect on you, that he could make you crave him like this.
He lifted his head, his lips curling into a smirk. “Begging for me already?” he teased, his voice laced with male pride.
Matt was determined to show you that he had been paying attention and that he had learned something from your previous experience. He wanted you to see that he could be just as good as you were, if not better. He felt a thrill of excitement and anticipation as he looked down at you.
“You're mine now,” he said, his voice low and authoritative. “And I'm gonna show you just how much I've learned.”
He moved his hands back up your body, his touch firm and confident. He could feel your body responding to him, your breath quickening and your heart racing beneath his fingertips. He could tell that you were excited too, that you were eager to see what he had in store for you.
He bent down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Trust me,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. “You're gonna love every second of this.”
Matt took a moment to take in the sight of you, lying naked and completely open for him. His eyes wandered over your body, taking in every curve, every contour. You were so beautiful, so vulnerable and exposed, and it made his heart race with desire.
“You look so good like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “So perfect and mine.”
He began to unbutton his shirt, his fingers moving quickly.
Once he had tossed his shirt aside, he moved back down to kneel at the end of the bed. His hands ran down your thighs, his touch firm and possessive. He could see the way your body responded to him, your skin shivering and your back arching up.
“God, you're so beautiful,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “I want you so bad, I can hardly stand it.”
You were struggling to find your words. You were completely lost in the moment, your mind and body consumed by desire. You could feel his hands on your thighs, his touch driving you wild.
“M-Matt…” you gasped. “Please… Please don't tease me. I need you. I need you now.”
You heard him chuckle softly, his voice a low rumble. “Oh, you'll get me,” he promised. “But I'm going to take my time with you. I want to make sure you're completely ready for me.”
His hands moved up your body again, his touch firm and sure. He bent his head down, his lips trailing kisses down your torso.
“I want to take my time and explore every inch of you,” he murmured against your skin. “I want to learn everything about your body, about what makes you feel good.”
He continued to kiss and nibble at your body, his hands roaming over your skin. He could feel your hips arching up towards him, your body begging for more.
He moved back up your body, his lips brushing against your ear. “You're mine,” he whispered, his voice a rough growl. “And I'm going to show you just how good I can make you feel.”
He bent his head down, his lips claiming yours in a deep, passionate kiss.
His hands moved down to your hips, gripping them tightly. He lifted you up, pulling you closer to him. He could feel your body pressing against his, your curves molding against his chest.
“I want you so badly,” he muttered. “I can hardly wait anymore.”
You were a mess of desire and need, your body screaming for release. You could feel his hands on your hips, holding you tight, and it only heightened you need.
“M-Matt… Please…” you gasped, your voice desperate and pleading. “I need you now. I can't wait anymore. Please.”
Matt chuckled softly, his voice rough with desire. “Impatient, are we?” he teased. “Don't worry. I'll take care of you.”
He leaned down, his lips trailing kisses down your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving behind small, possessive marks.
He could feel your body writhing beneath him, your hips grinding against his. You were begging for more, pleading for him to give you the release you so desperately needed.
“You don't know how much you turn me on,” he murmured against your skin. “How badly I want you right now.”
Your hands impatiently landed on his belt buckle. Matt chuckled at your impatience, his hips rocking against yours. “Somebody's eager,” he teased, his voice low and gravelly.
He lifted his hips, giving you better access to the buckle. He could feel your hands fumbling with it, your fingers trembling with need.
“Slow down, babe,” he murmured. “We've got all night. I want to take my time with you.”
He put a hand on top of yours, stilling your movements. He could feel your body arching up against his, your breathing ragged and uneven.
“Patience,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”
He gently pushed your hands away, his fingers unbuttoning his jeans. He could feel you trembling underneath him, your need for him growing stronger and stronger.
He lifted his hips again, his trousers and underwear slipping down his legs. He could feel your body pressing against his, your skin against his bare skin. He could feel the heat radiating off of you, the tension in your body.
“Mm… You feel so good,” he murmured, nibbling at your ear.
He could feel your hands running over his hips and thighs, your touch hot and desperate. He knew that you were struggling to hold yourself back, that you were trying to control your own desires. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the knowledge that he was the one driving you wild.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice a rough growl. “I want to hear you say it.”
You were lost in a sea of desire, your body screaming for relief. You could feel his skin against yours, the heat between them almost unbearable.
“I… I want you,” you gasped, your voice rough and ragged. “Please, Matt. I need you now. I need you so badly.”
Your hands were still roaming over his body, your touch desperate and needy. You could feel him against you, his body hard and taut, and it only made you want him more.
“Please,” you breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Don't make me wait any longer. I can't take it anymore.”
Matt could see the desperation in your eyes, the pleading in your voice, and it only fueled his own desire. He knew that you were completely at his mercy, that he had you right where he wanted you.
“Shhh,” he whispered, his lips trailing kisses down your neck. “Don't worry, babe. I'll take good care of you.”
He lifted his hips, his body moving back up to hover over yours. He could feel your body arching up to meet him, begging for more. He could feel your legs spreading, making room for him between them.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Because I'm ready for you. So ready.”
You nodded, your voice too weak to speak. You could feel his body pressing against yours, his skin sliding against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and it only made you want him more.
“Please, Matt,” you managed to whisper, your voice rough and desperate. “Don't tease me anymore. I need you. I need you now.”
Matt knew that he couldn't deny you any longer. He needed you just as badly as you needed him. He positioned himself at your entrance, his body tense with desire.
“Are you sure you're ready?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “I don't want to hurt you.”
Matt felt a rush of excitement and nervousness as he positioned himself at your entrance. He knew that this was something new for him, something he had never done before. But he also knew that he wanted to make it good for you, to show you that he was capable of pleasing you just as well as you could please him.
He could feel your body tensing underneath him, and he knew that you were probably just as nervous as he was. But he also knew that you were trusting him, that you were giving yourself completely to him.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice a low rumble.
He could feel your body relax slightly at his words, and he took it as a sign that you were ready for him.
You smiled tenderly. “I am. Are you?”
Matt chuckled softly, his nerves and excitement warring with each other. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little rougher than normal. “I just… I want to make sure I'm doing this right. I don't want to mess it up.”
He knew that he was probably making a fool of himself, that he sounded like an insecure teenage boy. Your heart melted at the vulnerable look on his face. You knew that he was worried about making a mistake, about not being good enough for you. But you also knew that he was so much more than he realized.
“You're doing great,” you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. “You don't have anything to worry about. Just relax and do what feels natural.”
You knew that he was probably overthinking everything, that he was putting too much pressure on himself. But you also knew that he was a fast learner, that he would catch on quickly.
“Just take it slow,” you added, your voice a soothing balm. “And don't overthink it. Just focus on me, on how good it feels between us.”
Matt nodded, his throat tight with emotion. He knew that you were right, that he needed to relax and just let his instincts take over. But it was hard to ignore the nerves and the fear of disappointing you.
“Okay,” he managed to say, his voice a little shaky. “I'll try. Just… Just tell me if I do something wrong.”
You smiled at him, your eyes warm and reassuring. You knew that he was pushing himself out of his comfort zone, that he was taking a risk by being vulnerable like this. And you were proud of him for it.
“You won't,” you said, your voice filled with confidence. “You're doing great. Just trust yourself. And trust me.”
Matt took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves and his breathing. He knew that he could do this. He could make you feel good.
“Okay,” he said again, his voice a little stronger this time. “I trust you. And I trust myself. And most importantly, I trust us.”
And with that, he leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
The kiss felt like a release, a way to channel all of the tension and anxiety into something more positive and intense. He poured all of his emotions into the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a newfound confidence and fervor.
He could feel your body responding to him, your hips lifting up to meet his. He could feel your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours. He could see the desire and the need in your gaze, and it fueled his own desire even more.
“You feel amazing,” he said, his voice a rough growl. “I don't know how I'm going to last like this.”
You chuckled at his words, your own voice breathless and needy.
“You're doing fine,” you said, your voice a low murmur. “Don't worry about how long you last. Just focus on me, on how good it feels between us.”
You lifted your hips, grinding against him in a slow and deliberate motion. Your body was begging for more, your hips rocking against his in a steady rhythm. You could feel him against you, his body hard and taut against your softness.
“You feel so good,” you gasped. “I can't get enough of you.”
He felt his heart racing at your words, his own body responding to yours in kind. Your words, your touch, your movements—they were all driving him wild with desire.
“I want to give you everything,” he muttered, his voice ragged and urgent. “I want to make you feel things you've never felt before.”
He knew that he was probably saying cliché things, that he was probably coming across as a cheesy romance novel character. But for once, he didn't care. All that mattered was you, and making you feel good.
He lifted his hips, his body moving against yours at a steady rhythm. He could feel his body starting to tense up, the pleasure and the pressure building inside of him.
But he refused to give in to the pleasure just yet. He wanted to make sure that you were feeling as good as he was. And he wasn't going to let himself come until you did.
He shifted his body again, his hips moving against yours in a different angle. He could feel your body responding to him, your breathing becoming more erratic.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble. “So tight and hot, and… Oh god, I can't take much more.”
His body was tense with the effort it took to hold back, to control himself. But he was determined to make sure that you came first. He wasn't going to let himself come until he knew that you were completely satisfied.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me what you need,” he whispered, his voice a rough growl. “Anything you want. Just tell me.”
You were lost in a sea of pleasure, your body writhing and quivering under his. You could hardly form a coherent thought, let alone find the words to tell him what you needed.
“Just… I need… Oh god, I need you,” you managed to gasp out. “Please, Matt… Please don't stop.”
You could feel him moving against you, his body straining with the effort of holding back. And you knew that he was holding back for you, that he was holding back his own pleasure until he knew that you were satisfied.
“Don't hold back,” you gasped. “Please. I want you… I need you. Just let go.”
With your words, something seemed to snap inside of him. He let out a low, guttural growl, his body moving against yours with a newfound intensity. He was done holding back, done trying to control himself. He needed to let go, to give in to the pleasure that was coursing through his body.
“You feel so good,” he muttered, his voice gruff and ragged. “I… I can't hold back anymore.”
His body was on fire, his muscles taut with need. He could feel his pleasure building and building, the pressure and the heat coiled tight inside of him.
“I'm gonna come,” he gasped, his voice barely recognizable. “I'm going to… Oh god, I'm going to…”
You could feel his body tense up even more, his muscles quivering and trembling. You knew that he was right on the edge, that he was about to lose control.
“Don't hold back,” you whispered, your voice rough and urgent. “Let it go. I'm… I'm right there with you.”
Your body was quivering and trembling, the pleasure building and building. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body on the verge of exploding.
“Please,” you gasped. “Oh, please, I need… I need…”
His body convulsed against you, the pleasure coursing through him. He let out a low, guttural scream, his body shuddering and shaking with the force of his release. He felt like he had just gone over the edge of a cliff, like he had just exploded into a million pieces.
You couldn't even form the words, your mind and your body completely overwhelmed by pleasure.
And then, suddenly, it was too much. The pleasure and the pressure and the heat all came together in a torrent of sensations, and he felt himself let go.
For a moment, he felt completely and utterly shattered, his whole body trembling and quivering. But then he felt your arms around him, holding him close.
“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice a soft whisper against his ear.
You held him close as he trembled and shook, your arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace.
You could feel his body relaxing against yours, his breathing slowly steadying. And you could feel the relief and the pleasure radiating off of him, the aftershocks of his release still coursing through his body.
He just nodded, unable to form words. He felt completely and utterly spent, like he had just run a marathon and then some. He couldn't believe how good he felt, how completely and totally satisfied. He had never come that hard before, and it had been like nothing he had ever experienced before.
“That… That was… Wow,” he managed to gasp out, his voice still a little shaky. “I've never… I've never come like that before.”
You chuckled at his words, your voice filled with satisfaction. “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” you said, your voice soft and soothing. “It was pretty hot, watching you lose control like that.”
You ran your fingers through his hair, your touch gentle and loving.
“But you haven't come yet,” he mumbled, his voice still rough and ragged. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”
You smiled at his words, your heart swelling with affection.
“You don't have to worry about me,” you reassured him. “Just being with you like this makes me feel amazing.”
You ran your fingers down his back, your touch tender and loving.
“But,” you added, your voice a little huskier now. “If you really want to make me feel even better, I know a few things you could do to get me there.”
He lifted his head at that, his eyes meeting yours. He could see the desire and the need burning in your gaze, and it made his body respond once again.
“Anything,” he said, his voice a low and urgent growl. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Just touch me,” you whispered, your voice a soft plea. “Anywhere. Everywhere. Just touch me and make me feel good.”
His hand slowly trailed down in between your legs, and he moaned as he felt his release dripping out of you. He moved his fingers in slow, circular motions, the pad of his thumb finding your clit. Your body responded instantly, your hips lifting up to meet his touch. You let out a low moan, your body writhing and quaking beneath him.
You leaned back against the pillows, your body open and vulnerable to him. He nodded, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. You were beautiful like this, completely and utterly open and trusting.
He trailed his fingers down your body, his touch light and gentle. He let his fingers wander over your skin, tracing the curves and lines of your body.
“Oh god,” you gasped. “Just like that. Don't stop…”
His heart rate picked up as he heard the words, his body responding to the sound of your pleasure. He kept his fingers moving, his touch firm and steady.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispered, his words a low, ragged growl. “So perfect,” he added, his voice thick with desire. “I want to make you feel good. I want to make you feel so good.”
“Don't stop,” you gasped. “Please don't stop. I'm so close. I'm so… Oh God…”
He increased the pressure of his touch, his fingers moving a little faster and a little more urgently.
Your body arched and quivered under his touch, your breathing growing ragged and erratic. You could feel your pleasure building, the pressure and the heat coiling tight inside of you.
He could feel your body trembling and quivering under his touch, your breathing becoming more and more ragged and urgent. He knew that you were close, that you were right on the edge of release.
“Let go,” he whispered, his voice a rough and urgent plea. “Let go and let me make you feel good.”
And with those words, your body convulsed and trembled, the pleasure coursing through you like a torrent of sensations. You let out a high-pitched moan, your body trembling and shaking with the force of your release.
He kept his fingers moving, his touch steady and gentle, trying to guide you through the aftershocks of your pleasure. He could feel your body relaxing against him, your breathing slowly returning to normal.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice rough and tender.
You nodded, your eyes dazed and glassy with pleasure. “I'm more than okay,” you murmured. “I'm amazing. You're amazing.”
You reached up and pulled him down into a deep, passionate kiss. He kissed you back, his heart swelling with affection and desire. He couldn't believe that he had just made you feel so good. It was a feeling like nothing else, like he had just achieved something truly amazing.
“You're amazing,” he whispered against your lips. “You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”
You smiled up at him, your eyes filled with happiness and affection.
“You're not so bad yourself,” you teased, your voice light and playful. “And you definitely know what you're doing, I'll give you that.”
He laughed at that, his heart swelling with affection and happiness.
“I guess I'm a fast learner,” he said. “But I had a really good teacher.”
Matt leaned down and kissed you again, his lips moving against yours in a soft, tender caress. You stayed like that for a while, your bodies intertwined and your lips locked together in a passionate embrace. But eventually, you had to come up for air, your lungs burning for oxygen.
“We should probably get cleaned up,” he muttered, his voice a little hoarse.
“Yeah,” you mumbled playfully. “You sure came a lot.”
He chuckled at that, his face flushing a little bit.
“I guess I got a little carried away,” he admitted, a sheepish grin on his face.
He climbed off the bed and made his way to the bathroom, feeling a little self-conscious now that the heat of the moment had passed. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the water, then returned to the bedroom to find You already lounging on the bed, a satisfied smile on your face.
“You look pretty pleased with yourself,” he said, a playful edge to his voice.
He sat down on the bed and started to clean you up, his touch gentle and tender. You sighed contentedly as he cleaned you up, your eyes drifting closed as you relaxed into his touch.
“I'm not used to being taken care of like this,” you murmured, your voice a little dreamy.
Matt smiled at that, his heart swelling with affection. You sounded so vulnerable and fragile in that moment, so much different than your usual confident and self-assured demeanor.
“Well, get used to it,” he teased gently. “Because I don't plan on stopping any time soon.”
He finished cleaning you up and then tossed the washcloth onto the floor, flopping down beside you on the bed. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, his body pressing against yours. He could feel the curve of your body against his, the warmth of your skin seeping into him. And he felt a sense of contentment and peace that he had never felt before.
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tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06
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rieamena · 3 months
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take my hand until the sun goes down
kenji sato & baseball critic!reader headcanons
the first installment
requests put in by the lovely @despacito-uwu16 (bless your beautiful big brain)
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marriage hcs ♡
we all know how much ken is in love with you but after that stunt he pulled at the championship game, it got a whole lot worse. he would not let a single chance to call you his fiancée pass by. afterparty following a challenging game? "can't make it, i miss my fiancée." team planning a dinner? "let me ask if my fiancée wants to come!" trying to get out of an agonizing conversation? "oh, my fiancée's calling me." he does not miss a BEAT when it comes to you. and after you got married!?!? oh let me tell you…
he physically cannot stop talking about you. something sweet that you did, how much you are for him, how much he loves you. its gotten so bad that his teammates have to tread lightly when speaking to him just to not trigger a 20 minute long rant about you (they're just jealous!!!). "i took the stray that showed up at my house the other night to the vet and it turns out she's really sick…" "really? that's so sad. you know, that actually reminds me of how my wife and i were eating bread this morning and she just looked so pretty." "how are those two things related!??!"
personal headcanon here but kenji cannot cook for the life of him. he can chop up his vegetables and take out seasoning from the cabinet but do NOT put that man near a stove. he will burn the kitchen down. unfortunately, kenji knew of his innate talent to someway somehow manage to cause chaos everytime he turned on an oven. so what did he do? he started watching you while you cook; occasionally taking notes on online recipes he'd think you'd like. every time you had to leave for an interview or babysit chiho, ken would load up the stove and start practicing. once he felt like he got good enough, kenji surprised you with breakfast in bed. french toast, eggs, bacon, and fruits were laid out on a platter, the delicious smell of it all and the sound of your husband coaxing you from your sleep. "wake up, my love. i made something for you~"
his petnames for you gradually changed as well. 'baby' turned into 'my love', 'my pretty girl' turned into 'my pretty wife', 'princess' stayed though. he loves your reaction when he calls you princess. your eyes become lidded as you look him up and down seductively, "so… are we gonna fuck or…?" ken threw you over his shoulder, teasing your body as he walked to the bedroom, "don't need to ask me twice. you gonna' ride me?" "that was my plan all along, pretty boy."
the first time you called kenji your husband to his face, he stopped thinking. his knees buckled, his heart started racing, his breathing got heavy. he genuinely thought he was about to die but he would be doing so in your arms so it was far more bearable. also!!! he has to kiss you at least three times a day or he dies (i dont make the rules!!). most days, kenji peppers your face in kisses in the morning, presses a kiss to your cheek or forehead in the afternoon, and gives you the most loving and deep kiss just before you head to bed
"[name], i have a crush on you. i love your voice and your smile and you're just so beautiful. i'm in love with you." ken wrapped you in his arms, speaking lowly "ken, we're married. we've been together for six years." "i know but still. just say you don't accept my confession." kenji huffed "no, i do! i have a crush on you too! the biggest one actually. please date me…"
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children hcs ♡
kenji is THE girl dad. no questions asked. full stop.
kenji cried and i mean CRIED when you told him you were pregnant. you planned it in such a cute way honestly, it's a shame he didn't get it at first. you baked a couple buns and put them in the kitchen oven. simple, right? wrong. when ken got home and you kindly asked him to look in the oven for you, he was mildly confused. "you just have a lot of bread in here." you lightly pushed him out of the way, taking out every bun except one. "and now?" "you have one bread in the oven." "try again." "you have a roll in the oven." ken winked at you, swearing that he got it right this time. "not a roll but a…" "a….?" "there's a bun in the oven, kenji! i'm pregnant!" 
he was the (self-proclaimed) master of the art of ponytails and braids, often getting compliments from other parents on his skills. his mornings usually started with your daughter climbing onto his lap, handing him a hairbrush and a collection of colorful hair ties. kenji would carefully detangle her hair, his hands gentle but efficient, and then he would create intricate braids that she would show off to her friends at school
kenji also knew every princess, superhero, and storybook character by heart. his nights often ended with him sitting on the edge of his daughter's bed with you, reading her favorite stories with dramatic flair, his voice changing for each character, making her giggle and beg for one more chapter.
one evening, as the sun set and the playground began to empty, she ran up to her dad, breathless and excited. she had found a shiny pebble and declared it to be a magical gem. kenji knelt down, his eyes twinkling with amusement, and listened intently as they wove an elaborate tale about the pebble's powers. he played along, his imagination as vivid as theirs, and they spent the rest of the evening concocting a story that would become a cherished memory.
and at his baseball games, he would always scan the crowd for his two girls, and once he found you cheering loudly in the stands, he never failed to flash his signature smile and give you both a wink.
"i mean, she needs a sister. don't want her growing up an only child like me." kenji whispered as you placed your baby daughter into her bassinet. "darling, if you want another baby, just say that." "please please please, can we have another one??" "not right now. but yes ken, we can have another baby."
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requests for them are open <3
taglist <3
@mochminnie @yellowheartz @ririkacchi @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @reit0o @luvshleyyy @lovingyeet @stickypaperstarlight @raee-dreeaaamz @rreasonablydumbb @bandolls @gingersnap126126 @automalvo @spiderboogie @shellspider @blogscach @nightingale047 @deadbydad @deadbydad-writes @phantomface
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covetyou · 6 months
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egg hunt
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.
A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!
These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.
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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.
No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.
You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.
The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.
It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.
"The fucker..."
Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.
But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...
Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ."
"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.
"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.
"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.
Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."
"And the difference is...?"
"Eggs."
You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.
"Eggs?"
You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.
"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"
"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."
He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.
Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."
It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.
"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"
"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."
"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."
"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.
"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."
"Don't it?"
"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."
"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"
You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.
"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.
"Real funny."
"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.
"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"
"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."
"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.
You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.
"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.
"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."
The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin and you look expectantly up at him. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.
It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.
Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.
"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."
Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.
Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, no trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.
"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"
"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings burst open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.
In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.
"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.
As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.
"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."
The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.
"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.
Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."
Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.
"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.
"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.
"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.
"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"
"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."
And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.
"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."
"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"
"Mhm."
"Shit."
A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.
"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."
Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.
"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."
"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"
But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.
He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.
Then you stop.
Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.
You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.
"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.
It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.
"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.
There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.
"Good, because I prefer it like this too."
"Fuck, yeah."
Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.
He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.
"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."
He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.
Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.
He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.
Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.
"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.
He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.
But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.
"I'm gonna -"
"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.
"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"
He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.
You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.
Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.
Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.
"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."
"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"
If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.
Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was, and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.
You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.
So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.
Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.
"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"
"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."
Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.
"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.
"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"
"... Maybe? Yes?"
"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."
"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.
"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."
Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.
"Oh. I - I thought..."
"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"
"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.
"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."
You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"
"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"
A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"
"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."
"Down the street?"
"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."
"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"
It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.
"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"
Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.
The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.
"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.
"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"
"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.
"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.
next part
taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr
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therainscene · 3 months
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I've described myself in the past as "overly-queerbaited" as a way of explaining why it took me so long to come around to Byler endgame as a legitimate possibility... but that's kind of a misleading way of putting it.
Truth is, I've always been too much of a cynical fuck to fall for queerbait... or any other story that promises positive queer rep.
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[Sherlock couldn't touch me; I saw this cringe homophobia coming from a mile away. Fans mistaking straight anxiety jokes for meaningful gay subtext was clearly doomed to end in mockery. Nobody deserved to be treated like that... but god, it was easy to predict.]
I think it's a symptom of having grown up under Section 28 -- feeling like I'm being unreasonable for wanting to see queerness normalized is such an ingrained habit that even today I instinctively recoil like a vampire touching sunlight whenever an optimistic queer story falls unrequested into my lap.
But I'm hardly alone in feeling this way -- many queer Millennial and Gen-X fans of Stranger Things are against the idea of Byler because it would ruin the catharsis of watching the gay boy growing up in the same era as we did slowly succumb to the same despair that we did.
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[For those who haven't played the VR game: Vecna is speaking in this screenshot.]
There's genuine comfort to be found in painful stories -- this type of catharsis is practically the cornerstone of horror as a genre -- so I can't really fault myself or anyone else for wanting it, despite the obnoxious oversaturation of disappointing queer endings in media.
This is the nostalgia show, after all -- and like it or not, for many middle-aged queers in the target audience, nostalgia is shot through with the pain of homophobia and loneliness.
But do you know who else is a hurt queer(-coded) adult who resents happy endings? This cynical fuck:
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Henry personifies despair and loneliness and the dark urge to take our pain out on others -- and when Will is in the picture, I would argue that he also represents internalized homophobia.
Will might represent who we were -- but Henry represents who we've let ourselves turn into.
And I don't think many of us want to admit to that, because that would involve questioning why we have so much in common with the literal villain of the show; why we're still so consumed with self-pity after 20+ years that we're obsessing over the fate of some kid.
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I'm not suggesting that wanting a less-than-fairytale ending for a fictional gay boy is equivalent to being a child killer lol. It's perfectly valid to want to see your pain acknowledged, and stories which appeal to that desire deserve to exist.
But between Henry's connection to Will and the cycle of abuse themes of the show, it's clear that this particular story simply isn't about wallowing in the bleakness of growing up gay in the 80s, but about self-actualizing in spite of it all.
So I just can't bring myself to want a "relatable" ending for Will.
As much as I struggle to enjoy positive queer rep, I don't want to be so cynical. I'd thrown up so many walls to protect myself as a teenager that I forgot how desperately I wanted to see just one of those painful queer stories end on the same uplifting note that straight stories were always entitled to: with true love overcoming the odds, saving the day, and living happily ever after.
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[But I'm A Cheerleader, a surprisingly fun movie about conversion therapy, is proof that stories like this did exist when I was a teen... but finding them in the pre- and early-internet days amidst so much censorship was a tall order.]
What makes Stranger Things different from most queer stories -- and what allowed it to pierce through my defenses and stab me in the gut -- is that it perfectly mimics those bleak, acceptable-to-the-censors stories from my youth -- only this time, the secret uplifting gay plot twist is real.
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Not for the sake of shock value or of grabbing some empty woke points at the last second, but because the plan all along was to slap the audience in the face for believing homophobic lies about the existence of queer happiness.
That's some gourmet catharsis, if you ask me.
Just the possibility that my inner child might finally be vindicated has allowed me to truly let myself want the things I want for the first time in 20 years -- and that's the first step towards finally crawling back out into the sunlight.
Happy Pride Month, everyone. 🌈
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the-offside-rule · 8 months
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Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Dad
Requested: yes
Prompt: Dad!Max
Warnings: nope
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Under the intense buzz of the Formula 1 paddock, Max Verstappen navigated through the sea of people, balancing his son, Luuk, in one arm and holding hands with his girlfriend, Yn, with the other as the rhythmic hum of the car engines providing a lullaby. The Red Bull Racing garage welcomed them with the familiar hum of activity as mechanics fine-tuned the car for the upcoming race weekend.
Max, flashing a quick smile, gestured toward the car. "What do you think, Luuk?" Y/n chuckled. "Future World Champion, just like his old man." Max scoffed. "I'm not old." Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe he'll be an even better driver than you, Max." Max feigned offense. "Hey now, no one can beat me." He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Luuk's forehead. "You can try though." Y/n cackled. "Are you challenging a one month old? Max I thought you were better than that." Max pressed a kiss onto Y/n's cheek. "Don't miss me too much." He smiled. "I have company this time." She replied.
As Max prepared for his next stint on the track, Y/n settled in the garage, surrounded by the Red Bull crew. She exchanged smiles with them, who couldn't help but glance at the adorable scene of Max as a doting father, always checking in on Y/n and Luuk. During a break between sessions, Max hurried over to the garage, a genuine excitement in his eyes. "How's my little champ doing?" he cooed, reaching for Luuk. Y/n handed over their son. "He's been keeping an eye on your lap times, hasn't he?" She cooed. "He reckons he'll beat your times in 20 years. Max chuckled, cradling Luuk in his arms. "Starting him young, you know? Gotta teach him about speed and precision." During practice sessions, Max's focus was generally unwavering. However, he'd rush to the garage to check on baby Luuk, making sure he was comfortable and content.
"Is his diaper alright? Is he okay with the sound?" Max asked. "Looks like someone is more concerned about diaper changes than tire changes." Y/n teased. "Luuk's my good luck charm. Can't have him upset during the race weekend, can we?" He smiled back. The crew members shared knowing glances, appreciating the sight of Max Verstappen, renowned for his fearless driving, melting into something so very different.
As Sunday came around and the race has approached, he found himself in P1. He had never wanted a win more in his entire life. His girlfriend was here and so was his son; he could not mess this up. Max took a moment to share a quiet conversation with Y/n on the track. "I'm going to win it." He said, gently cradling Luuk in his arms. "I know you will. We're always here for you, Max. Win or lose." She smiled. "Yeah, but I'm gonna win it." He grinned. She placed a kiss onto his lips and took Luuk back. "Just drive safely please." She smiled. She had always said it before his races, but this time it felt different to him; to both of them. They didn't just have eachother to think about, they had Luuk there and that meant more than any trophy. Max hugged her, kissing atop her head before Y/n made her way to the Red Bull garage, sitting down and finding a newfound sense of fear.
During the race, with the roar of engines and the intensity of competition, Max maneuvered his car skillfully, making sure to lap the cars and to finish the race safely so he could get back to his girlfriend, to his son. In the garage, Y/n held Luuk, watching anxiously. She always knew for certain Max would always do well but this particular time, she was nervous. On the team radio, GP was keeping him informed. "Looking good, Max. Keep pushing!" He said. Max radioed back. "Just a few more laps, we've got it."
As Max crossed the finish line, triumphant, he got onto the radio. "Great start to the season, guys. And for Y/n back in the garage;I told you I'd win it." Y/n rolled her eyes hearing the radio message before heading out eith Luuk to Parc Ferme. She watched as her boyfriend parked his car and stood atop of it, his arms opened open and triumphant. Sweaty and exhilarated, he hopped down, running straight to Y/n and Luuk. "You did so well." Y/n smiled, kissing his helmet. "Was he okay?" Max asked. "He was fine. Not a peep out of him." He nodded, holding his son's hand. "Good man." He chuckled, before excusing himself and celebrating with the crew.
Max held the microphone as he awaited his turn for his podium interview. "Max, first race back. You have your whole family here with you today, how does that feel?" Max smiled and looked up to the crowds. "Yeah, it's a great achievement. Obviously it's only the first race so we can't pinpoint whether we will win the whole thing or not. But yeah, I mean having my girlfriend and my son here makes every win even sweeter. They're my biggest supporters." The crowd cheered. "You obviously mentioned there, your son he was born just last month a few weeks before testing and now he's here with you and your wonderful girlfriend. Did you race for them today and are you racing for them this season?"
"I've always raced for Y/n, for as long as I've known the girl. It's just a full circle moment now that I'm now dedicating this win to our boy as well. This victory is their's as much as it is my own." The fans, witnessing the heartfelt family moment, erupted in cheers. Verstappen's not just a racer; he's a family man too. "Do you have any words for Luuk or have you already said everything you need to say to him?" He thought for a moment before looking right into the camera, almost teary. "Luuk, het zal uiteraard nog wel even duren voordat jij gaat racen, maar onthoud: als ik het kan, dan weet ik zeker dat jij het ook kunt. Als je er maar over nadenkt, zal ik vlak achter je staan, samen met je moeder. Ik hou van je, ik geloof in je, ik heb deze eerste overwinning aan jou opgedragen, jij draagt ​​de jouwe aan mij op." He handed the microphone to the interviewer and waved, heading off screen.
"So, listening to that now after your first win in Formula One, how are the emotions?" Luuk smiled as he set the tablet down, looking over at the very same interviewer. "I mean, it was a journey together. I dedicate every race to him, just as he did with me and to my mother as well. It was emotional when I crossed that finish line, he was the first person that popped right into my head. He always was and always has been. I'm just baffled to see how far we have come." The interviewer nodded. "Thank you Luuk. Its been a pleasure. Good luck with the rest of the season." Luuk bid his goodbyes and walked to his garage, in search for his parents who stood looking at their son's car. "Interviews done?" Y/n asked, kissing her son on the cheek. "Yes and I actually watched your speech you gave after Melbourne in 2024." Max smiled. "Did you?" Luuk nodded. "Yeah. It got me remembering absolutely everything we did." He smiled, patting his shoulder. "Come on, old man. You gotta get out of here, I have a car to drive."
"I'm not that old!"
-------
Translation: Luuk, it will obviously take some time before you start racing, but remember: if I can do it, I'm sure you can do it too. If you even think about it, I'll be right behind you, along with your mother. I love you, I believe in you, I dedicated this first victory to you, you dedicate yours to me
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archangeldyke-all · 3 months
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trans sevy getting her first blowjob ever from reader? feeling so confident, beautiful, and desired in her own skin because of the safe and genuine love her and reader have for each other 🥺
:,) i love her
men and minors dni
you wake up to your limbs tangled with sevika's.
you and your girlfriend fell asleep a few hours ago, naked and satisfied after a mid-afternoon romp. you have nowhere to be, so you indulge in the feeling of sevika's gentle snores against your throat.
you two have been trying to take things slow. you've only been having sex for a few weeks, but you've been going on dates two or three times a week, spending the night at each other's homes, and bickering like an old married couple for half a year now.
it's not like you weren't insanely attracted to each other upon meeting.
but you were able to see the walls she puts up to protect herself from a mile away, and you fell in love with the glimpses of the gentle woman behind them; so you decided to wait.
to wait until she felt comfortable enough to sleep on top of you like she is now, drooling a little on your shoulder; until she was relaxed enough to let you touch her gently and tell you what she likes; until she trusted you enough to let you see her naked, both physically and emotionally.
and it's been so fucking worth it.
you've never been in love like this before. you can't control the smile that comes to your face as your chest is flooded with affection for your girl, and you wrap your arms just a little tighter around her back, craning your neck to kiss the top of her head.
"hmph?" sevika asks.
"hey, sleepy head." you chuckle.
"hm. i'll give you some sleepy head." she jokes, cracking her eyes open to smile up at you.
you burst into laughter, squeezing her in a tight hug as she starts pressing chaste kisses over your chest.
"i wouldn't be opposed to that." you giggle. "wouldn't be opposed to givin' you some sleepy head either."
sevika freezes on top of you, and you have to hide your amused smile in her hair.
it breaks your heart a bit; the way sevika's so clearly never been loved properly before. it's humbling and empowering to be the first person to love her, and sometimes, it's also a little comical. she's just so easy to fluster.
"sev?" you whisper.
"uh..." she gulps, lifting her head up to blink down at you owlishly. "we've never done that before." she says.
"no, we haven't."
"do you... would you... i mean i don't want you to do anything you don't wan--"
"sevika." you cut her off, gently pressing your fingers to her lips. "i've been dreaming about tasting you since we met. i'd be fuckin' honored. but only if you're into it."
sevika gulps. you can see her hesitation and her arousal warring in her mind, her cock starting to stiffen against your hip. you just cup her face in your hands, peppering her with kisses and waiting for her response.
"d-do you know how?" she asks. you snort.
"i know the basics. lick, suck, slobber. teeth are a no-no."
sevika snorts a bit, her lower lip between her teeth as she considers your offer. you can tell she wants it, she's just struggling with saying it. so, you try speaking her language.
one gentle hand on her shoulder is all it takes to push her off of you and onto the mattress. you straddle her hips, hovering over her quickly hardening cock and grinning down at her as she ogles your tits swaying in her face.
you bend down, guiding one of sevika's hands to your tits, the other to your hips, before you press your lips to hers.
the tension in her body quickly melts, and she sighs in relaxation. her hands start moving up and down your body on their own accord, groping and clawing freely, taking her fill of you.
"lemme make you feel good sev, huh?" you ask. she gulps beneath you, trying to tug your hips down so you sit on her cock.
"i want you." sevika whines.
"well, i know that, baby. what part of me do you want? i'll give you anything... my tits... my hands... my cunt..." sevika gulps, waiting for you to mention your initial offer. you grin down at her, raising your eyebrow as she squirms.
"y-your mouth." she whispers.
you grin and swoop down to kiss your girlfriend. "good girl." you praise. sevika shivers underneath you at the words and you giggle, before you drop the teasing act and start kissing down her body. "gonna be good for me and use your words?" you ask, licking a ring around her belly button. sevika's abs twitch, and her cock twitches where it rests on her thigh.
"y-yes."
"good." you kiss her hip.
you start slow, not wanting to overwhelm her. you can tell she's equally excited and nervous, and you want her to melt into her pleasure and forget her worries.
you quickly blow into your palm, warming it just a bit before wrapping it around sevika's cock. she sighs sweetly as you start jerking her off.
you've never been so close to her cock before. usually, you're jerking her off under her pants on the couch, or quickly guiding her cock toward your cunt. you've never had a chance to study it like this before.
"shit, sev, your dick's so pretty." you huff. she laughs, a little self consciously, and you nip her thigh.
"can a cock be pretty?" she asks.
you nod. "when it looks like yours." she's already leaking pre into your hand, making the motions of your hands glide. uncircumsized, girthy, seven inches (according to sevika, though to you it feels a lot closer to nine)-- she's a work of art. "sev..." you mutter, hypnotized by the sight of her. "can i taste you, baby?"
she shudders. you reach up and grab her hands, lifting them both to your head so she can control the pace. "y-yes please."
you sigh, turning your head just a bit to kiss her wrist. "i love you, sevika." you remind her. she whimpers, and you smile at the sound.
"i love you, t--shit!" sevika gasps as you lick one long, solid stripe up her cock.
fuck. she's hot and firm under your tongue, you can feel her blood pulsing in her cock, and the taste of her is divine. salty, a little sweet, and entirely sevika. it's like burying your nose in her neck and inhaling, but so much better.
better, because above you, sevika's voice has risen two octaves, little squeaks and mewls escaping her as she twitches and squirms.
"f-fuck!" she whimpers. you grin, and then kiss the head of her dick.
"tell me what you like." you whisper.
sevika gulps. "i-i dunno." she whines. "i like your mouth."
you laugh, then kiss her dick again. "alright. we'll figure it out together. do you like this:" you lean forward and lick another long line up the underside of her cock. "or this?" you gently place her tip on your tongue, closing your lips around her and sucking, just a bit.
sevika nearly jumps off the bed when you get your lips around her. "that!" she gasps, her hands clawing at your scalp. "that, that, that!"
you hum a laugh around her, and her thigh starts to quiver uncontrollably around you.
when you pull away, a string of spit connects your lower lip to her cock. she collapses against the bed, groaning. "fuuuuuck."
you laugh. "this?" you duck down, nuzzling your face against her wet cock, drunk enough on the sounds of her pleasure to disregard the sticky wetness spreading on your cheeks and eyelashes. "or this?" you nuzzle the tip of your nose at the base of her cock, right above her balls.
your hot breath on her balls makes her squeal in laughter as she tries to grind against your face. "b-both!" she giggles.
you grin at the sound, and kiss the base of her cock. "mmm, good to know." you duck down just a little further. "this?" you mouth at her balls, her pubes tickling your face. when you lick your tongue out, sevika's cock jumps so hard you think she's about to cum. she doesn't-- but a little stream of pre drips down her dick tantalizingly. fuck, you can't wait to taste her cum.
"or this?" you ask. you've been doing a lot of sex research, scrolling through lgbt forums and blogs while fantasizing about your girlfriend, trying to learn how to make her feel good. you've read that she might like it when you start licking and nuzzling against the soft skin under her balls, but you were skeptical.
you had no fucking reason to be skeptical.
the second you push your mouth against the soft, fuzzy skin under her balls, sevika gasps, scrambling to sit up and pushing your face away from her.
"w-what happened, you okay!?" you ask, panicked and worried about your gasping girlfriend.
she's staring at you with big, sparkling eyes, a wide goofy smile on her face. "i-i didn't wanna cum in your hair." she whispers with a giggle.
you grin. "you're so fuckin' sweet." you sigh, kissing sevika's thigh. "now cum down my throat."
sevika growls when you take her down your mouth as deep as you can.
you only manage to get about half her cock down. still, she doesn't seem to care.
"shit, baby, fuck, your mouth's so fuckin' perfect, oh my god, i love you so much, shit, shit, i love you baby, i love you, t-thank you, i-- b-baby i'm gonna cum!" she cries.
you hum and nod around her, blinking up at her as you do.
the second your eyes meet, sevika starts shooting ropes of hot cum down your throat.
you sputter a little, pulling back to make enough room for her load but not letting go of the tip of her cock, sucking her dry as she whimpers and cries into the back of her hand.
it's only when she starts to weakly shoo you away with her hand that you pull off of her cock.
she blinks down at you and you smirk, sticking your tongue out to show her how she's filled your mouth before swallowing it with a pleased hum.
sevika groans, then gently smacks you with a throw pillow.
"this is gonna be a huge fuckin' problem." she whispers.
your stomach sinks again. "what? why?" you ask, crawling up her body to hover over her.
she blinks up at you shyly, and your concern melts. she's flustered, not uncomfortable, and you allow a cocky smirk to spread on your lips. "'cause i don't think 'm gonna be thinkin' about anything besides getting my dick in your mouth for the rest of my life!" she whines.
you burst into laughter and collapse on top of your girlfriend, nuzzling against her neck and kissing her intermittently. "you said the same thing the first time we fucked, babe." you laugh.
sevika just huffs beneath you, hiding her blush from you by tucking her face down to kiss the top of your head.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll
@sevsdollette @ellieslob
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transmascpetewentz · 1 month
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hey so. can we all agree to stop saying "asperger's syndrome".
the arguments have been made already for why the term is offensive to autistic people as a general whole, so i'm not going to repeat them here. what i want to focus on is the less talked about issue with the fact that we as a community still use this word.
there is literally no excuse for any person, but especially jewish & romani people, to have their medical condition named after a fucking nazi who tried to genocide their ancestors. ZERO.
and before i get a ton of people in the replies trying to make excuses, let me pre-emptively answer the most common replies i know i'm going to get.
"ohhhh no but it's sooooo hard for me to switch my language, it's only been ten years since the dsm five came out!!!!!"
boo hoo, it's hard for you to use a different word after over ten years of the dsm five removing asperger's as a diagnosis. it must be soooo much more difficult to give a single shit about jews and roma than the experiences of jews and roma who went through a genocide and are still facing violence to this day /s
"but i'm an aspie and i get to reclaim that word if i want!!!!!"
yeah, the term asperger's syndrome is offensive both to autistic people who fall under the criteria and to autistic people that don't. but do you know who else that term is offensive to? the people who went through a genocide. unless you are jewish or romani i don't want to hear it.
"but i was diagnosed with asperger's syndrome before the dsm five came out!!!!!"
see the above two points about how not continuing to glorify genocide is more important than keeping the same words we've always used for things. it's fine to say you were diagnosed with asperger's, but you do not have "asperger's", you have autism (or are autistic if that's the language you prefer).
"but i didn't know that asperger was a nazi!!!"
well, now you do.
"but naming a medical condition after someone doesn't necessarily glorify them!!!!"
would you apply this logic to literally any other field of science? if we decided to name an element after a nazi, people would rightfully be angry. people have been calling for years to rename a beetle named after a nazi. if you name a medical condition after someone, that generally means one of two things: the person was a very important and good researcher in the field, or the person was a notable person who had the medical condition. this might be a hot take, but i don't think that a nazi scientist working for the nazis should ever be considered the best and most important early researcher in any field to be deserving of having a discovery named after them.
"but you can't speak for all jews!!! look, you aren't even jewish yet, it says that on your profile!!!!"
no, i cannot speak for all jews. but i am speaking for myself when i say that all of your (general) excuses have stopped working, and that y'all need to put others' needs above your feelings sometimes. during the writing of this post, i spoke to other jews who have made posts about this before, but y'all continue to ignore jewish voices and make excuses for yourselves when it really isn't that hard to just stop saying a word.
"you're being ableist by telling me, an autistic person, how i can and cannot identify!!!!!"
i'm writing this post as someone who is autistic and would have been diagnosed with "asperger's syndrome" had i gotten my diagnosis before the dsm five came out. being autistic is no excuse for being racist, antisemitic, or any other bigotry. autistic non-jews have continuously spoken over autistic jews on many issues, including this one, and guys, it is not that hard to care about jews and roma enough to make this tiny change to your vocabulary.
i hope all of this has been enough to ward off some of the responses that i'm going to get to this post. i'm willing to engage in good faith if you're genuinely ignorant or confused, but if you have read this post, you no longer get to say that you "didn't know" that hans asperger was a nazi and that we shouldn't name any medical condition, but especially one that many jews and roma have, after people who committed genocide.
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stxrvel · 4 months
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losing myself
memories of how you lost yourself trying to keep your best friend afloat. content. angst, depression and suicidal thoughts. this is post-suguru's death, except the first memory. a/n. i just can't seem to bring myself out of the angst for jjk, i apologise in advance!
jjk main masterlist | main masterlist
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Helping Satoru was a way of losing yourself. When Haibara died and Suguru abandoned them, Shoko dealt with it in her loneliness and the only thing Satoru could lean on was you. Your shoulder was his support, the only thing that kept him sane to reality as you both tried to graduate and made the decision to teach school, you for a much more selfish reason than Satoru's human reasons.
Helping Satoru cost you a lifetime of loneliness. You loved your friend and after what happened you were so desperate not to lose anyone else that you were willing to do anything, even if it meant losing everything that once made you who you were and all motivation. You thought your identity didn't compare to the pain and helplessness of not being able to do anything while everyone walked away, but your decision led to a lonelier life than you had thought.
“Hey, everything okay?” Shoko approached through the hallway, the darkness relenting once she was standing next to you. “You look pale.”
“I'm fine. Just a little tired.”
The clouds around you enveloped them on either side, a somber feeling settling in between the space Shoko kept her distance with.
“Well, we've graduated. From now on the pains can't be so great.”
“Yeah, right. We're past the worst of it, aren't we?”
“I'd like to think so.”
Her cocked smile thawed a little of the chill settling in your chest, but her eyes told you everything her lips didn't. She knew, everyone knew, that you hadn't been the same since Suguru left. Satoru was staying afloat because of his goofy personality, but trying your best to keep it that way, the sparkle in your eyes disappeared. The person who used to be told that she brought the sun in her eyes had completely clouded over. Shoko saw the storms in your eyes, the impenetrable and unceasing tempest. She couldn't cross it without dying trying.
“You can talk to me if you need to.”
That was what she said every time, even though you never took her at her word. Shoko always proved she could survive on her own, however she had done it, whatever process she had to go through, the smile she gave you in those moments at least was more genuine than yours.
Satoru was too wrapped up in his own world, his own head and his own pain to stop for a moment to notice yours, which Shoko and the others could. You never placed that guilt on Satoru's shoulders, nor did you need to, but it was something you were sadly aware of. Satoru didn't push you aside because he was selfish, it was simply his way of processing things, so internally and individually inside his head. Just as you had made it your way of processing grief to help Satoru tirelessly, to the point of almost becoming his shadow.
“I don't know what to do anymore, y/n,” Satoru cried, hands holding his head and knees against his chest.
Utahime had called out to you, barely passing you out of eagerness and blurting out a couple of words that you could deduce were about Satoru. It was painful as you knew you had to prepare in advance to see him, because it was heartbreaking to have to help him process his pain while you had to keep your own at bay.
“I'm tired of dreaming about it. I'm tired of… seeing him.”
Your hands moved over his hair, his cursed technique disappearing every time you were near. You tried to contain the trembling of his body by holding his shoulders, but having you closer only made him more vulnerable.
“Not sleeping is not the solution, Satoru.”
“That's the only way,” raising his head, his puffy blue eyes returned your gaze. At times like those, you didn't know how he hadn't noticed your sunken eyes or the black bags that even years later still wouldn't go away.
But it was about him. Satoru was in bad modd. You had to help him. You had to hold him.
“No, it's not. I'm here,” your knees touched his feet, his face contracting as a fresh tide of tears lashed his chest. Cold hands wrapped around you and your numb hands wrapped around his neck. “I know you miss him. I know you regret it.”
His sobs against your shoulder grew louder and louder, but Satoru kept his grip with hostility. He held close to you as his lifeline, the float that carried him across the ocean, shipwrecked in his own pain, lost in his own mind.
“But you know you don't have to carry that pain alone, Satoru.”
“I don't know what I did, y/n…”
“You did what you had to do.”
“No…”
“If you hadn't done it, I would have.”
His head jerked up, his blue eyes crystallizing and pain written all over his face with the trail of tears that wouldn't stop flowing.
“It wasn't anything either of us would've had to have done,” you shook your head, trying to contain the memories in the back of your head, trying to focus on pain your friend in that moment, on what really mattered. “It wasn't anything either of us had to endure.”
“But you're fine…”
You almost snorted, controlling yourself enough to let out a sigh. His naive eyes wouldn't leave yours, almost as if he was constantly wondering what you were doing to deal with all that he wasn't. As if there was something wrong that he was doing or something he wasn't doing that you were, because in his eyes, up until that moment, you were fine.
“I'm fine when you're fine.”
“I'm not fine right now.”
“I know.”
You seemed to think a glimmer of understanding crossed his eyes. You didn't know, you couldn't be sure, but his face returned to your neck and the tears stopped falling. Minutes passed in silence.
“I'm sorry,” was the last thing he said that night.
Helping Satoru was something you would never regret, even when you had lost your spark and the students loved him more than you.
“I thought you were going out tonight.”
You ran into Nanami on your way to your dorm. It was getting close to the time of the outing Satoru had proposed for that night and you knew that if you didn't go no one else would show up there. You hated to think of dashing your friend's hopes, but he had already developed enough strength to go through such a disappointment. It had been months since he had becone strong enough to deal with such situations on his own.
“I'm tired.”
“For something specific?”
It was common for your friends to dance around the elephant in the room, and sometimes you allowed yourself to think how different things would be if they had at some point been more daring with their approaches, as you were with Satoru. What would've changed, then or in the past, if Nanami or Shoko had been more insistent? Where would you be now? Where would you be later?
“Nothing specific. I'd just like to get more rest tonight,” you sent Nanami a smile, the kind you had mastered to avoid such conversations.
“Very well. You know I'm just a phone call away if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Nanami.”
Were you really that selfish? In all their remoteness, your friends were still concerned about your well-being. Had enough time passed for you to not care? If you didn't want to be unwell, why was it so hard for you to accept their help?
“You've lost weight,” Satoru was right beside you from the moment you left Yaga's office.
“The mission went well, Satoru, thank you for caring.”
You tried to dodge him to go back to your room, but of course the white-haired man wouldn't just walk away just because. Lately he was closer, more attentive, more condescending…
“Are you eating well?”
Satoru was trying hard to ignore the way his words brought back dark memories. From the moment he realized what had been happening, his mind was scheming every second of the day in trying to find a way to bring you back to your original state. He couldn't even fully concentrate on the missions, but that was no obstacle for him.
“I'm tired, Satoru. It was three days. I need to sleep.”
“I told Yaga many times to let me go with you…”
“I handled it just fine on my own, Satoru.”
“I know! I'd just like to be of some use-”
“You want to be of some use? Leave me alone!”
The bed was freezing cold as it was every night. You changed the sheets that morning and organized the entire bedroom in a strange spike of energy. You felt a little better afterwards, but not enough. It had never stopped looking and feeling so empty, no matter what you did.
Satoru called you a couple of times that night, but as usual, he'd give up after a couple of tries.
You wondered again, drowsily, what would be different if only he had insisted a little more…
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kazz-brekker · 3 months
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hotd episode 2 thoughts
aegon screaming hysterically and smashing up viserys's model of old valyria…alicent unable to get through a sentence without sobbing…helaena staring blankly at the wall and clutching jaehaerys's blanket…i love acting but also that all kind of broke me.
genuinely i am enjoying tom glynn-carney as aegon SO much, he's quickly becoming one of my favorite actors on the show and gives his character so much nuance.
otto using his grandson's horrific death as a pr stunt…truly that man never stops working, he's always on the clock.
i also LOVED the big blowout fight scene between rhaenyra and daemon, it's about time someone dragged that man to hell and back. "the darkness you sheathe within yourself like a sword" and "i don't trust you" and "you're pathetic" go OFF rhaenyra!
criston please don't send someone else on a suicidal assassination mission because you were slacking your duty and banging alicent while the heir to the throne got decapitated. oh, who i am kidding, that man has never had a normal reaction to anything in his life.
i'm so glad we got an actual scene with baela (and the promise of more with her and moondancer in future weeks!) since she and rhaena have been horrendously underused so far.
aemond you have so many issues please go to therapy not a brothel. also i've blogged about this before but the idea that he really thinks he's an equal threat to daemon honestly is so silly.
alyn AND addam of hull spotted, we've got the complete set, and a little teaser of seasmoke as well!
the scene between corlys and rhaenys where corlys was like "if daemon would just submit to rhaenyra and enjoy being a bottom as i do on occasion" made me laugh so hard my sister asked me if i was okay.
i'm very intrigued by the scene between rhaenyra and mysaria (especially the mutual bonding over being exasperated by daemon) since they're technically on the same side but very much at odds in the book and i'm curious to know if this will continue in future episodes.
i really like that this season is emphasizing the perspectives of smallfolk like the hull brothers, hugh hammer, and the brothel mistress, it's something i felt was missing in season 1.
this really was an episode of targaryen men getting absolutely dragged by others for their poor political decisions. can't say i support otto's decisions most of the time but he was 100% correct about aegon.
also the moment where otto realized he had schemed for 20+ years to land a total idiot who just fired him on the throne…delicious, but rhys ifans played it so well i honestly still felt bad for him.
daeron mention! at this point i was honestly starting to think they had cut him from the show so that was a surprise.
as an identical twin i very much enjoyed the erryk and arryk drama but i must admit that i ALSO could not tell the twins apart when they were dueling. someone please revoke my twin card.
alicent walking into a room, seeing aegon crying, and just walking out was kind of funny ngl.
i really didn't expect criston and alicent's dynamic this season but i'm honestly enjoying it a lot. the mutual self-flagellation over their affair, alicent repeatedly slapping him and criston allowing it…really fun honestly.
caraxes is properly coming back next episode and it's true, i HAVE missed that noodle boy <3
also it looks like our first proper looks at harrenhal, moondancer, and a bracken vs. blackwood fight!
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byechristopher · 9 months
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can u do a fic where chris and reader are dating but reader gets insecure because she sees all these old pics and vids of chris with this girl he used to be with but they talk about it and they say to each other they're in love for the first time this is bad sorry but i'm lowkey sad and need this
Trust Me.
– CHRIS STURNIOLO FLUFF.
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Author's note: Hey there, thank you for the request! Now, I didn't know how to bring up the old photos, so y e s, I used snapchat memories (happened to me, so..). I hope you like it either way. 🤍 Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Warnings: None, sliiight angst. Did not proofread!
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Usually, I'm not one to stare at people, but when it comes to Chris, I can never resist, even when he's doing the simplest tasks. We've only been dating for a couple of months, and while I wouldn't label myself as "obsessed," I find myself captivated by him.
My thoughts are interrupted by Chris (not that I mind) as I sit on the pavement, and he bends over to gently kiss the top of my head, his hands cupping my cheeks. I smile and grasp his hands, looking up at him to see his beautiful smile.
"Beautiful day today, huh?" he says, sitting down beside me, his head tilted back, soaking in the sunshine.
I gaze at him, appreciating the way the sun highlights his curls, makes his skin glow, and brings out the pink in his lips and the icy blue of his eyes. God.
"Yes, very beautiful," I chuckle, joining him in looking up at the sky, letting the sun caress my face as well.
"I'm gonna go take a shower. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" he smiles and wraps an arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him so that he can press a kiss on my cheek.
"Yes, yes. Can I play that game on your phone?" I grin, knowing he is not able to resist that and he chuckles, giving me his phone.
"Here you go, babe."
He leaves and I immediately unlock his phone. I want to start the game but a notification from snapchat pops up and I accidentally press on it. I roll my eyes because it is one of these "memories" thingies, it said two years ago.
When it opens, my stomach drops. A few pictures and a video of Chris and his ex girlfriend are under this notification. I know I shouldn't feel anything but I do. Especially when I see how tightly he's holding her, the way he looks into her eyes. The video is my last straw – he's cupping her cheeks while pressing kisses all over her face, saying over and over again how much he loves her. He sounds very genuine. He's never told me he loves me. Ouch.
I quickly close the app and lock his phone, not in the mood to play any of the games on his phone anymore. I can't fathom my emotions – perhaps because I've already fallen for him, and the fact that he might not love me just yet triggers an unsettling feeling within me. Not a positive one.
I go back inside the apartment because I am not in the mood to enjoy any type of sunshine either, so when he's done and he doesn't see me there, he gets confused.
"Babe? Where are you?" his shouts reach me, and I take a deep breath, wondering whether I should tell him anything or just leave it be.
"Hey, I'm up here." I say, standing on top of the stairs as I look down at him.
His smile brightens and he starts walking up the stairs to meet me – he's got a fresh hoodie on now, his hair is damp and the fact that he looks like the cutest human being on earth doesn't help with the fact that I want to cry.
"Why'd you leave? I thought you wanted to stay outside for a while," he questions, pulling me close for a kiss.
"Yeah, just not in the mood," I shrug, failing to force a smile before heading to the bedroom.
"Babe." he follows, concerned, "is there something wrong?" he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
"No.. just.. everything's fine." I realise how stupid I will sound if I say anything so now I am just stuck with my mood swings.
"You know you can tell me everything, yes?" he gets on his knees right in front of me as I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, placing his hands on my thighs and giving them a small reassuring squeeze.
I look down at him, then down to my fingers, really considering telling him now. With a small sigh, I cover my face with both hands, "I accidentally opened your snapchat memories." I say, really getting embarrassed now, "and it was you.. with.. yeah."
I can hear him sighing as well, knowing what I'm talking about, but he doesn't say anything for a while. Instead, he grabs my hands gently pulling them away from my face, bringing them both close to his lips so he can kiss them.
"Baby.. you know this means absolutely nothing now, right?" his voice is so sweet and gentle, like honey, it makes me want to cry.
"I know.. please, I just.. I don't know why I'm feeling this way." I know exactly why I'm feeling that way but I would never tell him that, he'd be so uncomfortable. Especially if he doesn't love me back just yet.
"It's normal, I think I would feel the same way if I saw you with your ex." he nods, still pressing kisses to the palms of my hands, "but you need to know that you're the only one I see. For a very long time now." his eyes look sincere as he makes sure to keep eye contact with me no matter how much I avoid it.
I don't say anything, I only nod – he gets up and quickly picks me up, making me wrap my legs around his waist as he sits at the edge of the bed with me in his lap this time. His hands touch me everywhere, my thighs, my waist, my back, my hair – his touch is feather-like, it feels dreamy.
"You know, baby.." he speaks with his gentle voice, "..I might not talk about my feelings as much as you do, but that doesn't mean I don't feel as much as you do." he buries his hand in my hair, his lips close to my ear, pressing kisses there and on my cheek.
I don't have the time to say anything because he continues, "I'm very, very bad when it comes to expressing my feelings, I think you know that by now." he chuckles a bit, making me smile a little bit, "but what I'm feeling for you, I don't think I've ever experienced before." he says and I don't want to get my hopes up but my heart definitely does something, "the moment I saw you, I knew. And that scared me. The fact that my heart felt something, by just looking at you."
I pull back just a bit to look at him, his hands now cupping my cheeks, caressing my skin, "and still to this day, even after all these months, I still feel the same way I felt when I first saw you." he presses his forehead against mine, kissing my lips every now and then, "I am.. madly in love with you, baby." he whispers and I almost widen my eyes.
"What–" only this word comes out of my mouth but I want to grab him and kiss him and tell him a million things. But nothing else comes out and my heart starts beating fast, like crazy.
"Yes. I am sorry if it's too soon for you. But I wanted to say it to you since like.. the first month. I just didn't want you to think of me as a weirdo.." he chuckles and I chuckle, too, "and anyway, you know I don't necessarily like expressing my feelings but sometimes it is necessary for the both of us."
"I am in love with you too.." I smile, my arms wrapping around his neck to bring him even closer to me, "and I have been for a while now." I whisper against his lips.
"Shit. You're doing it again.." he whispers, his smile so big, "the thing. My heart." he whispers again and I laugh softly.
"Stop. I love you." I say and my heart feels at peace.
He smiles, wrapping his arms around my waist again, hugging me close before kissing me again, "I love you too."
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lecsainz · 11 months
Note
Could you write friends to lovers with Ollie Bearman? Something really fluffy where they realise they have feelings for each other, thank you.
OUT OF MY CONTROL
˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .
parings: ollie bearman + fem!reader
summary: the one where you and ollie are best friends and ollie finally creates the courage to declare yourself.
🗒️ : best friends to lovers are definitely my favorite trope!
type: fluff ಇ
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Ollie had known Y/N for as long as he could remember. He first met the girl with y/h/c hair in elementary school. Ollie remembered the six-year-old Y/N approaching the seven-year-old Ollie, taking his hand, and saying, "You're my boyfriend." At the time, young Ollie had bolted away from her, and every time he saw her, he'd hide. That was until the day Y/N decided she wanted another boy to be the father of her dolls and chose the boy who always ran from her to be her best friend.
Today, all Ollie wanted was for his best friend to see him in a different light. Not that Ollie was afraid to make a move, as he was popular among the girls, but he was afraid that Y/N would distance herself from him as she did with any other boy who wasn't Ethan – a guy Ollie disliked.
What did that blond boy, who played football, have that he didn't? He raced a car at almost 200 km/h and was afraid to compete with someone who kicked a ball.
He couldn't recall when he started having feelings for Y/N. Maybe it was during his first race when she showed up wearing a shirt with his number, or perhaps it was during the countless nights they spent talking at each other's houses. It might have been when he saw his best friend cry over Ethan, either because they had broken up or because they weren't speaking. The fact that he couldn't remember didn't change anything, but he simply wanted to be able to call her his. His girl. His girlfriend. Not just his best friend.
One sunny afternoon, Ollie and Y/N found themselves sitting in the park, chatting away about various topics, as they often did. The laughter flowed effortlessly, and the warmth of their friendship was evident. Ollie knew that he had to find the courage to confess his feelings soon, and he couldn't think of a better place to do it.
As they watched the children playing on the swings, Ollie's heart raced, and he decided it was now or never. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words.
"Y/N, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while," Ollie began, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
Y/N turned to him, her eyes curious. "What is it, Ollie?"
Ollie took a deep breath and looked deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, you mean the world to me. You've been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I cherish every moment we've spent together. But lately, I've started to feel something more, something beyond friendship. I don't know when it happened, but I've fallen for you, Y/N."
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Y/N looked at Ollie, her eyes wide with surprise. The weight of his confession hung in the air, and Ollie felt like his heart was in his throat.
Y/N's expression softened, and she reached out to gently touch Ollie's hand. "Ollie, I... I don't know what to say."
Ollie couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. Had he just ruined their friendship? Would she distance herself from him?
But then Y/N smiled, a warm and genuine smile that made Ollie's heart skip a beat. "You know, Ollie, I've been waiting for you to say that for a long time."
Ollie's eyes widened in surprise. "You have?"
Y/N nodded. "Yes, I have. I've been feeling the same way, Ollie. I just didn't want to ruin our friendship by saying anything. But now that you've said it, I can't hold back any longer. I've fallen for you too."
Relief and happiness washed over Ollie. He couldn't believe his luck. "Y/N, you have no idea how happy that makes me."
With a mixture of excitement and relief in the air, Ollie and Y/N leaned closer to each other. The world seemed to fade away as they closed the distance between them, their hearts pounding in anticipation. Their lips met in a soft and tender kiss, sealing the confession of their feelings.
It was a gentle, sweet kiss, filled with the promise of a new beginning. Ollie's hand cupped Y/N's cheek, and her fingers gently threaded through his hair as they shared a moment that had been a long time coming.
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watermelonlovershigh · 5 months
Text
Returning Favors {part 5.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
AN: when i started this chapter i had intended for it to go in a completely different direction but as i began writing it, i let the words flow and wrote it this way instead. i really hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback and remember to send in things you'd like to see in this series. xoxo
This story contains: mentions of handjobs and blowjobs, slight angst, pillow talk, cunilingus, fluff
{ housemate!harry - friendrry - friends to lovers trope - softrry }
word count- 3,459
While making arrangements to introduce your friends to Harry, he seizes the chance to ask about your abrupt departure after your intimate encounter earlier that day. This conversation unexpectedly leads to Harry performing oral sex on you for the first time.
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As you make your way around the street corner, you are greeted by your friends, Mave and Charlotte, who are waving you over to the table they had set aside for your brunch. The cafe features a beautiful outdoor space, perfect for the current time of year. Upon joining them, they quickly pick up on your more upbeat attitude. While you typically don't appear gloomy, you have been feeling rather indifferent for the past year. However today, they observe a slight improvement in your mood.
"Hi, Hi." you lean in to kiss each of their cheeks and sit down at the round table.
"We've ordered you a mimosa. Wasn't sure what you wanted to eat so we haven't ordered our food yet though." Charlotte explans.
"Oh, well thank you." you take a sip of your mimosa and moan at how delicious the drink is.
"What's making you so cheerful today? Is it because of Harry?" Mave questions with cheeky smile, aware of your growing connection with your housemate and the recent revelation of your mutual feelings towards one another. Your friends are genuinely happy for you, knowing how long you've been single and how it affected you.
Brushing them off, you answer, "What? A girl can't look happy on a Sunday morning without there being a reason?" But they know you better then that. The aurora you're giving off is one of a girl who's in love. Though they wouldn't tell you that this soon in your relationship with Harry.
"No it's just," Mave starts, "look, we want the details. Did you guys have sex this morning? Because you look like your glowing and it's not from your skincare routine." Her and Charlotte stare you down, waiting for an answer and you know you must give them one. Otherwise they'll never let this conversation rest.
"Alright, alright. We did do some sexual stuff this morning. But not sex. I just kind of gave him a handjob which then turned into a blowjob."
Your two friends are smiling ear to ear at your confession. "And.... what else? Don't tell us he left you high and dry after you literally had his dick in your mouth." Charlotte utters in a hushed yet audible tone, ensuring that you can hear her amidst the bustling traffic and crowd, while hopefully keeping your conversation private from others.
You express with annoyance in your tone, "It wasn't as you think. I woke up to find him cuddling me and noticed he was aroused. Therefore, I chose to assist him. Once he woke up and realized he was hard, he eventually agreed to my help. I began by giving him a handjob under his briefs, but then decided to go further with a blowjob. And he didn't reciprocate because I left quickly after he came. So, I'm unsure whether he would've wanted to do something for me in return."
Mave reaches across the table and playfully swats your arm. "You fuckin' idiot. You should have stayed to see if he would've pleasured you as well. You could've gotten an amazing orgasm out of him."
"Hey," you spit back, "I did have an amazing orgasm this morning. Just... with my vibrator in the shower before I came here." Though you're sure Harry would beat every single one of your toys if you gave him the chance to prove it.
After chatting for a few more minutes you realized just how hungry you were and decided to order your food and another round of mimosas. You catch up on each others lives and make plans for them to come by the house to hang out one night. They have yet to meet Harry and you thought what better way to introduce them than to invite them over for some drinks and maybe a card game. You'll just have to ask him if that would be okay.
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Upon returning home later that evening, you notice Harry seated on the sofa, engrossed in a pile of papers and his laptop resting on his lap. Presumably grading tests, you assume. After placing your bag in the entryway, you make your way over to the couch. Surprisingly, the atmosphere doesn't feel as awkward as you had anticipated, considering the events that unfolded earlier in the day.
"How was your brunch?" Harry questions, shifting to set all of his work onto the coffee table.
"Great. Really fun." you answer before continuing, "So I have a question."
"Hm, so do I actually but go on." Harry replies, taking a sip of his coffee. He doesn't know what your question is but he knows his question is in reference to why you ran off so quickly this morning after you gave him that blowjob. It's been eating at his mind all day and he'd really like some closure so he can relax.
"Okay, so I was thinking we could have a little get-together with my friends, Mave and Charlotte. They're eager to meet you, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to invite them over this upcoming weekend. We can enjoy some drinks and perhaps even play that card game I purchased some time ago but haven't had the chance to play yet."
Harry nods in agreement. "Yeah, sounds great. How about this Friday night? I can stop by the shops on my way home from work and grab some alcohol. Just let me know what kind they prefer." He is genuinely excited to finally meet your friends. Since becoming your housemate, you've kept your personal life mostly private from him. As a result, he hasn't had the chance to meet any of your family members and has only heard stories about your friends.
"Fantastic," you declare, jumping up from the couch excitedly. "I'll call them right away and let them know. They'll be so happy." Just as Harry was about to remind you that he had a question as well, you've already disappeared from his line of sight. Your sudden departures today seem to be a trend. He reckons he'll have to wait a bit longer to find out the reasoning behind your quick exit this morning.
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At approximately ten o'clock at night, you and Harry are lying in your bed, watching reruns of Friends while trying to stay awake. The room is dark besides the glare of the tv and his cat Pixie is nestled in the middle of the bed, sleeping soundly. Although she hasn't always been allowed in your room, ever since Harry started visiting so frequently, you have embraced her presence as well.
Right as your eyes began to shut, you remember how Harry had a question for you earlier but never got to ask it. You didn't mean to run off like you did. You just got excited to call your friends and let them know they're welcomed to come by the house this Friday for the small gathering. Which in turn made you totally forget he had a question in the first place.
"Harry," you say aloud. The call of his name startles him. He'd just dozed off to sleep and your voice pulled him away from the unconsciousness he was about to enter.
"Mhm, what?" he grumbles, eyes half open as he tries to stay awake in order to hear you speak.
"What's your question? You said earlier you had a question but you never got to ask me it."
Harry found himself more awake as he thought about how to bring up his question. To be honest, he was feeling a bit nervous to ask. Even though this question had been on his mind all day, he hesitated to ask, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or create any distance between you. "Um, was just gonna ask why you left so suddenly this mornin'. You know, after you gave me that blowjob? It seemed like you were ashamed of your actions or somethin'. I was plannin' to return the favor, but you left before I had the opportunity to ask."
With heart shaped eyes, you coo softly, "You were?"
"Well yeah. It's only right that I returned the favor you did for me. I'm not a douche bag like some men can be."
"Awe, that's so sweet of you. But um, I don't know. Guess I remembered how I'd just woke up and maybe didn't smell the best down there or that I may have tasted bad from the hours of sleep I was in prior. Just didn't want to disgust you in any way."
With a gentle tone, Harry expressed, "Y/n, your scent or taste wouldn't have been an issue for me. Even if it was there, I wouldn't have mind. Because it's you, and I genuinely care about you. I would have found pleasure in it regardless. If anyone has ever made you feel insecure about the natural smell of your vagina, they are truly right dicks"
Breathing deeply, you sadly admit, "Yeah, I've had some men attempt to go down on me first thing in the morning but complained about the way I smelt or tasted and so, I just didn't want you to do the same as them."
Sliding impossibly close to you, Harry responds back, "Well I'm not those other men. I respect women more than that and I may just have a thing for oral sex. Givin' and receivin'. Plus, it feels even better when you really know and trust the person."
You giggle shyly and except his closeness, the two of you laying on your sides facing each other. "Dick or pussy though?"
"What?" Harry asks with a sleepy smile, unsure of what you're questioning.
"You said you had a thing for oral sex. So do you prefer sucking dick or eating pussy?"
"Mhm, depends on who the person is and my connection to them. Both are great but it also depends on what mood I'm in to give you a solid answer." It's no secret Harry likes men as well. When you first moved in with him he had a short fling with a guy and you assumed he was gay for like the first month. But then when you heard a girl moaning through his bedroom walls, you realized that wasn't the case. The next day you questioned him and he confidently came out as bisexual to you.
Deciding to continue these questions just to see where it could lead, you keep going, "And, what mood are you in right now?"
Harry suddenly became aware of the dense atmosphere, yet he responded truthfully. "Considerin' that I'm currently in your bed, nearly cuddling you, and you happen to possess a vagina, I would say 'pussy.' However, if I were to discover that you possessed a penis, the answer would be 'cock.'"
He moves one of his hands up to cradle the side of your face. It's so incredibly close to his that he can just about taste the mint of your toothpaste. "Good thing I have one of those two options then and I'm not some alien with no genitals at all."
What Harry wants to say is that he'd love you just the same, even if you were a genitalless alien, but he can't. Not yet anyways. So he responds, "Wouldn't change how I feel about you." With the close proximity, you get the sudden urge to surge forward and clash your lips with his. As if he felt this coming, Harry didn't react surprised at all and accepts the kiss. You both realized this is the first time you've kissed each other. You've shared your feelings, your beds, and you've gave him a blowjob. Yet this makes your first time kissing.
Harry intensifies the kiss by gently prodding his tongue against your lips, and you grant him permission to enter. The kiss is wet, rushed, and somewhat messy, yet incredibly enjoyable. After a minute of exchanging saliva, you pull back to take a deep breath and confidently state, "Prove it then. Prove you're in the mood for some pussy."
With surprise written on his face, Harry leans back a tiny bit to make sure he's reading you correctly. "You sure? I don't have to if......" He'd be more than happy to eat you out right here, right now, but he doesn't want you to ask because you feel obligated to agree or because you're in the heat of the moment.
Responding eagerly, you assert, "Yes, I'm sure. But please be quick before I change my mind." The mention of urgency and the potential for a change of mind prompts Harry to swiftly toss the covers back and carefully positions himself between your legs. He gently lifts Pixie from the bed and places her on the floor where she discovers her cat bed near the window sill and resumes her peaceful sleep.
At this very moment, Harry finds himself surprisingly nervous as he positions himself between your legs. Although he has longed to perform oral sex on you, both this morning and in his countless fantasies, the actual prospect of doing so fills him with apprehension that he may not satisfy you adequately. Additionally, he frets over the possibility of being unable to bring you to orgasm.
Curiosity arose within you as to why Harry was taking such a long time, prompting you to prop yourself up on your elbows. From this viewpoint, you observed him fixating on your bottom half, which was concealed by some skimpy shorts you typically sleep in. However, as soon as he notices your gaze upon him, he swiftly reaches up and tugs at the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. To his astonishment, you're not wearing any panties which causing Harry to let out a moan upon catching sight of your naked pussy.
Despite the room being enveloped in a soft glow from the television, it remained dimly lit and quiet. Harry couldn't obtain a clear image of your exposed cunt but he could perceive enough to develop a strong liking to it already. However, this attraction isn't solely based on the physical appearance of your vagina, but rather because it's a part of you.
Harry looks up once more to ensure your approval for his actions. With a nod of reassurance from you, he eagerly begins. His mouth envelops your entire pussy, as his tongue moves from your wet entrance to your sensitive clit. The flavor of you on his tongue almost brings him to climax instantly, hands free. This is undoubtedly the best cunt he's ever had. Your skin is incredibly soft and inviting, with only a few short hairs littered around your bikini area from the shave you did two days ago.
As your elbows grow weaker, you find yourself sinking into the comfortable bed below. Harry's tongue skillfully laps up your arousal before focusing on your clit and experimenting with various flicking patterns. Each time his tongue glides over the sensitive nerves, your entire body responds with a powerful jolt of electricity. It's no secret that your clit is extremely sensitive when receiving attention from the right person.
"Oh fuck, Harry. Feels so good." you moan aloud, reaching down to grab onto his curly locks.
You fear he'll tell you not to touch him, but as he briefly moves his mouth away, he commands, "Tug my hair, baby. It feels amazing." Could it be that he just referred to you as 'baby' for the first time? You believe so, and it heightens your arousal even further.
Listening to Harry's wishes, you pull his hair tightly in your fists, causing his face to be nestled against your pussy impossibly closer than before. You begin to move your hips, creating a subtle rocking motion. Although he may feel a slight burning sensation on his scalp due to the intensity of your grip, as he mentioned, he loves the sensation it gives.
A minute more goes by of Harry munching down on your wet pussy when you feel your orgasm nearly bubble over. "I... I'm..." you try to warn but can't even get the words out from how much pleasure you're in. Harry doesn't say a word back, just goes in even harder, more determined to bring you over the edge.
You finally achieve orgasm when he seals his lips around your clit, applying firm and forceful sucks. Your clitoris pulsates within his mouth, causing you to release an animalistic scream as your orgasm sweeps through your body. Your entire body trembles, compelling Harry to firmly hold your hips to keep you in place. He continues sucking on your clit until your orgasm begins to fade and overstimulation sets in.
The hands that once laced in his hair start trying to push his head away. "Har.... Oh God!" you gasp when he gives your tiny nerve a few more kitten licks to make sure he's pulled every ounce of pleasure from you that he can. You lie there trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm as Harry sits up on his knees, breathing heavy with a glossy mouth.
Eager to know, though the answer should be evident with how you look right now, Harry asks, "So.... was I any good? Did that prove what mood I was in to you?"
You glance forward to see a devilish smile plastered on Harry's face and just know he's proud of himself. Which, he should. You don't think you've ever came so hard in your entire life. "Yes," you heave, "Oh God, yes. I'm...., that was, God. That was the best orgasm I've ever had."
"Yeah? You just tellin' me that to boost my ego or are you tellin' the truth?"
"Harry, I quit literally can't feel my bones right now. They're like jello. No man nor any one of my strongest vibrators have made me come that hard. No wonder the ladies liked you."
With the awareness that it's already very late and he has work the next morning, Harry decides to rise from the bed and make his way to the bathroom in the hallway to fetch a damp cloth. Your exhaustion prevents you from mustering the energy to question his actions. When he returns, you immediately recognize what he has and instinctively close your legs, still experiencing discomfort.
Harry takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and lightly taps your thighs, silently requesting you to open up. Reluctantly, you comply. As you feel the damp cloth glide over your swollen pussy, you try to pull away, but he firmly holds you in place with one hand on your hip bone. "Shh, it's alright," he reassures you in a gentle tone. "I'm just gonna clean you up, and then we can sleep, okay?"
As you lie on the bed, you notice Harry's erection prominently displayed through his black briefs and a pang of guilt washes over you for not pleasuring him. "But.......what about you? You're still hard. I could give you another blowjob or handjob. Whatever you want." Despite the tempting offer, Harry is too exhausted to engage in any additional activities tonight. Prior to this moment, he was on the brink of unconsciousness. Consequently, his drowsy state has returned as the explicit actions have ceased.
"It'll eventually go away, Y/n. I've got work in the mornin' and it's past midnight as is. Plus m'too tired to do anythin' more tonight. But, if I wasn't so tired and didn't have work so early, then you bet your ass I'd take you up on that offer."
Harry finishes cleaning between your legs and helps you slip your shorts back on. He then turns the TV off and crawls back into your bed beside you. Though your limbs are still weak, you manage to slide over until your head rests on his bare chest and your top leg is thrown over his hairy thigh closest to you.
As the moonlight glows through your bedroom window, sleep takes over both of you as the world around becomes quiet. The only sounds that can be heard are Pixie's soft purring from her location on the floor, the steadiness of Harry's heartbeat, and your exhails of breath.
In your dreaming state, you're still excited for the arrival of this upcoming Friday where you eagerly await the moment when your friends will finally have the chance to meet Harry. With high hopes for a successful gathering, you envision a joyous time ahead. Unbeknownst to Harry, the card game planned for the small get-together holds an R rating, implying that it will serve as an opportunity for everyone to bond and deepen their connections without the need for uncomfortable conversations in the future. Plus, mixed with the alcohol, you can't wait to find out some of Harry's dirty secrets.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
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My Masterlist Masterpost
The Rated R Card Game {part 6.} (housemate!harry series)
175 notes · View notes
Text
why i love aziraphale and why i find his character so heartbreaking
So I made a post on why I relate to Crowley and I adore him, obviously. I think a few you misunderstood what I meant there, though (which is understandable, I was a bit incoherent but that is inevitable on this blog). I wasn't saying Aziraphale didn't care about Crowley or was horrible to him, rather the opposite.
What I was saying was maybe Crowley felt unloved against his better judgement, because he knows he is loved by Aziraphale, but maybe everything he has been through has started to chip away at that knowledge. It's happened to me, I'm sure it's happened to a few of you. You are assured that you are loved, you can see them doing things for you, but you feel unloved. Maybe because of the other people who don't love you. Maybe because... you don't love yourself.
But I definitely wasn't putting down Aziraphale, who is a beautiful character. I adore him. I love how every single second, all his emotions are on his face. That's actually how I realised they'd switched bodies--in heaven, 'Aziraphale' had a cool, dismissive look on his face. That could only be Crowley, I knew, because Crowley is a bit better (not a lot, not around Azi of course) at masking his emotions.
That's what's so beautiful about Azi, we can just see how much he feels, how much he adores Crowley, how much hope he had, how much faith in Heaven, how much determination to do the right thing. How determined he is to keep Crowley safe, to make Crowley smile and laugh, and how much it kills him every time he has to push Crowley away for both of their sakes, or he thinks he has to. You both want to protect that optimism and faith, and also shake him and tell him the truth. But how do we know better than him, a 6000 year old angel? There's so much that we don't know, that may have happened behind the scenes, that's orchestrating his decisions.
Some of you are certain that there is more, that he doesn't still believe that what Heaven offers is genuine, because how could he? I'm also sure that there is more, but can I also offer an alternate idea? Even if there wasn't more, maybe he isn't to blame if he did continue to believe in Heaven's goodness.
We've been in toxic relationships. With friends, partners, family. I know how hard it is to accept that something you love is not worthy of that love. Something you admired is something flawed. Something you would do anything to keep is something you need to push away.
The worst of all, of course, is that time, somewhere in our childhood or teens or adulthood, when a lot of us realise our parent or parents are not heroes. That we don't agree with them. That they were wrong about a lot of things. Because they taught us everything, they were our guides, how could they be wrong? And if we can't believe in them, then what are we supposed to believe in?
Maybe Aziraphale is going through that journey, over all those millennia. Some of us are forced to realise it before we even turn ten, some of us haven't realised it yet, some of us may not ever or may not need to.
Maybe Aziraphale is just a child of God, realising that Heaven, his technical family, is not the Good that not only they but the entire world believes them to be. Everyone says Heaven is good, including a lot of Hell, including a lot of humankind, it's just given. What is Heavenly is good. And Aziraphale wants to be good.
But he's going through that painful journey of realising that good may not be what he was taught, that good comes in many shades and tints and hues. And we can see him do it, we can see him defy Heaven and God, for Crowley or for humans or for himself. He's doing it, and we need to see how it isn't easy for him. Having your entire system of belief deconstructed is painful and awful. And if you were wrong once, how do you know you won't be the next time?
It's hard enough for Crowley, torn between whether he was unworthy or whether Heaven was wrong. Imagine the tumult that Aziraphale goes through, because if Heaven accepts him and Heaven isn't always good, does that mean Aziraphale has been doing it all wrong all his life?
He's going through something that we all go through, and is every bit as relatable as Crowley is. I love them both so much. I'm so glad that there's a third season, to see how that arc closes, to see if maybe they find the answers we're all looking for.
@adverbian and @howmanyholesinswisscheese, I hope this helps? Again, I haven't watched season 2 yet and have a horrible memory since I've been watching season 1 heavily medicated, so this is just from what I know and can tell and headcanon, perhaps.
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