#sorry im just fantasizing about hot chocolate now

[artificial-transmutations]

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

[recreationalcatnip]

SHUT UP I USED TO WORK AT TEN RENS oh my god that’s so funny, they actually closed for good sadly but :/ i think german is super fun and you should def learn if you have the chance!! i took latin in elementary school so we are vibing HAHA but wait hazelnut, i’ve always wanted to try it but i usually get grapefruit green tea and i love rainbow jelly sm!!! and wait hot chcoolate, do you make it with water or milk i feel like this is very important to know, my favorite drink is probably bubble tea and if not that, i like hot water with honey and lemon!!! 🍓

omg you have revealed yourself!! not sure if it was on purpose or by accident but helloooooo!! i promise i will not pry until u give me permission to

also wait i’m so sad that ten ren’s closed??? nooooo!!

and i have a crazy repetoire of improvised hot chocolate recipes, so sometimes its with milk, sometimes water, sometimes half milk half water.... sometimes i even make it with earl grey if i make a pot of tea and have some left over.... sometimes shredded dark chocolate and cinnamon and cayenne pepper, sometimes cocoa powder and brown sugar and vanilla, sometimes all of the above plus baileys and/or whiskey... i could go on.

and my question for u would be..... hmm what is your favorite restaurant? whether its like a restaurant u get food from all the time or a place u went to once and never forgot about?

[eddiesfaerie]

Mirrorball (part 2)

Summary: The night you first met Flip, he asked you to meet him at the station the following day. You better come prepared. (5.4k words omg im sorry)

Warnings: NSFW!, mentions of police, f!reader, police station shenanigans, thigh riding, female orgasm, dirty talk, dirty THOUGHTS, brief mentions of male masturbation, light name calling, brat tamer!Flip, bratty!reader, dominant and submissive themes, smoking, part 1 was better and maybe this was unnecessary oop

Part 1

“I’m counting on it, Detective.”

Flip doesn’t know how many times he replayed those words you said to him in his mind. It was now the next day and he still couldn’t stop, couldn’t pause the loop that your voice was on in his brain; echoey, dreamy and ethereal.

To say he was nervous was an understatement. He told you to be here by 6pm, it was now 5:45 and Flip felt like his heart was about to beat straight out of his chest and onto the papers that sat untouched on his desk. He hadn’t done anything for the past thirty minutes besides swivel in his chair and click his pen over and over again; open, closed, open, closed.

His foot was tapping relentlessly against the tile floor as well, it had been going like that all day, and Ron wanted to say something about it, but he knew better than that. Especially since Flip would sass him extra hard seeing as how nervous he was about this meeting of yours.

LAST NIGHT - OUTSIDE THE DISCO

Ron and Patrice had more or less awkwardly stumbled upon the two of you after letting you two go off on your own for… how ever long all of that was. Trying to act as though nothing was going on, you jumped into Patrice’s arms and hugged her tightly before moving to hug Ron as well, seeing as you never actually met up with them tonight until now.

Flip shot daggers, shives, knives, hell he shot whatever was sharp enough at Ron and Patrice with his icy stare, fucking daring them to say something about the massive mark he’d left on your neck. This man was not to be intimidated, teased, or made fun of and almost everyone learned that the hard way. Ron and Patrice avoided the subject like the thin ice it was.

PRESENT - POLICE STATION

Flip had been fantasizing about that mark he left on you. All. Day. He wondered what it would look like when he saw you later. If it would be darker, if it would have started to change colour, he wondered if you’d dare to cover it up even though he specifically told you not to. He wondered if you'd listen to him. He really hopes you did, otherwise he was just as ready to wipe away whatever concealer you tried to hide it under.

It worked out well for him that it was a Saturday, the station would be much quieter than usual; just him, Ron, and a few newer guys he didn’t know that well. No familiar faces to tease and pull at his strings about him having a woman come by and see him. Flip never invited anyone to the station so it would have been a hot topic amongst his coworkers. He shuddered at the thought, glad he didn’t have to deal with the regular bullshit today - which is exactly why he decided to tell Ron that you were coming, told him extremely fucking reluctantly.

Ron’s face lit up at the sound of your name but fell slightly the moment Flip held out his finger in Ron’s face.

“Don’t make this into something it’s not, Rookie. She’s just... just coming by to say hi.” Even Flip didn’t sound too sure of himself but Ron didn’t push. He just knowingly smiled at him and nodded his head.

“No one’s making it into anything, partner. She’s a pretty little lady.” Ron shimmied his shoulders and then shimmied himself away down the corridor. Flip watching as Ron skipped away, seemingly happier about this than he was. He could feel a warmth spreading from his cheeks, across his face to the tip of his ears at the slight mention of you.

Pretty, little, lady.

He threw his head back and groaned, running a hand down his face and plucking himself down at his desk once again. Feet coming up to rest on top of his desk, Flip fished around in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, finding them quickly and lit one up between his lips. 

He had to fucking relax. He just saw you last night and you were putty in his hands. What did he have to be nervous about? Seeing your face in daylight? Seeing if you did cover the hickey? What would it mean if you did? Were you not interested in him, embarrassed maybe? What if you didn’t even show up? He didn’t have your number, you didn’t have his. Maybe he could look through the phone book-

Flip decided that waiting for you was going to be the most painful stakeout he’d ever endured, the longest fucking shift of his career.

//

You gripped the tupperware in your hands a little too tightly, so tight you actually thought you’d break through the plastic if you didn’t ease up on it soon.

Your feet had seemingly carried you across town without a conscious mind directing them, and you were now standing outside the police station, counting your breaths. You had never been inside one before and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it. Cops made you nervous, they made everyone you knew nervous. They weren’t friendly, they were pigs. They-

A slight cracking noise from the tupperware breaks you out of your thoughts. Fuck, you really were going to break it. 

You had made cookies for Flip and you were going to ruin them before he even had one.

Flip.

Your nerves eased slightly at the thought of him. He was nice. He was more than nice, and he was a cop. Detective, whatever. He would be in there. Maybe Ron would be too. And that made you feel better. You hoped he liked chocolate chip cookies.

A few more deep breaths and your feet were carrying up the steps and into the precinct. The clock above you on the wall read 6:10pm, not the first time your overthinking made you late. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying the thin flesh to the point where the familiar metallic taste filled your mouth. Fuck were you really bleeding? Now?

A familiar voice called your name. You looked up and found Ron smiling incredibly widley at you.

“Ron.” You smiled, a bit surprised, but mostly just flustered.

“I made cookies.” You said, handing the now open tupperware at him, offering him one.

“I’ve really got to get back to this damn file but thank you, Sweets. Flip’s just through those doors by the way, you’ll have no problem spotting him.” He chuckled with fake urgency, walking away to his desk in another part of the office, you guessed.

You could feel a heat crawl up your neck and bloom across your face, if you had been flustered when you came in, you were incredibly flustered now. What did Flip tell him? He surely couldn’t have told him that much, right?

You took tentative steps in the direction which Ron directed you, soon coming to see that dark head of hair sitting in the middle of a room, closed off by glass doors and windows. A smile crept up your face.

You opened one of the doors quietly so that he didn’t hear you. The room smelled of smoke and you could see a soft stream billowing above his head, his own halo. He wore another red flannel today, but you could tell it was different from the one he wore last night, this one didn’t hug him as tightly, it was roomier. Covering his shoulders and upper back was a holster and you fought to keep your eyes from rolling into your head at the sight. You forgot just how quickly he took your breath away. He wasn’t even facing you yet and you were already trembling.

Those eyes of his, you thought. You couldn’t wait to see them again and how they would shine in the daylight.

You felt like just quietly sitting down in the corner and observing him for the rest of his shift, suddenly curious about what he did all day, but you accidentally walked into the chair of the desk that was directly behind him, causing him to spin around and stand up quickly.

“Hi- oop. Sorry.” You stammered, embarrassing yourself already. Nearly tripping over the chair, Flip grabbed your elbow and helped you steady yourself, your skin igniting where he held you. That cool, untouchable iciness you had to yourself last night seems to have completely let you fend for yourself today, leaving you abandoned and a complete clumsy wreck without it.  

“I um, I brought you- I made you some cookies. I thought maybe-”

What you were not expecting, was Flip to cut you off with his lips. You knew at some point today that you both would eventually succumb to whatever tension (sexual or not) settled between the two of you, but you were not expecting it to quite literally hit you the moment you walked in the office room.

You cannot believe you had already forgotten how soft his lips were, how they molded to yours, devoured yours, how he tasted, how it felt to have his strong nose smush into your cheek. Fuck, this was bliss. He pulled away all too soon.

“Fuck, sorry.” He moved away from you a bit, maybe embarrassed at how quickly he had moved on you. His hands fell away from where he gripped you, a little indent remaining. Both of you seem to have lost your confidence from last night, the thought made you smile.

“For such a dancer I would have expected you to have a bit more coordination.” Already quick on his quips, he was trying to deflect from how his nerves were getting the best of him. Despite how his voice made your knees tremble, you could sense the waver in his voice as he ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous tick. He was nervous. You made him nervous. You found courage in that.

“You’d be surprised, Detective, at the predicaments I find myself in.” You huff unceremoniously trying to emulate that iciness from last night, handing the tupperware filled with cookies to him. He smirked down at the tupperware, his large fingers dancing over a few before tentatively picking one up and bringing it to his plump lips.

“Oh, I’m sure I would be.” He takes a bite, you both moan. Well, you moan internally at his suggestive tone, and he moans outwardly due to the sweet saltiness of the cookie.

“Good?”

“Sinful.” He said, taking another bite and then just shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth. What seemed average sized to you, seemed so much smaller in his hands and in his mouth. He swallowed it with ease and you could feel sweat prickling at the bottom of your neck. Why was he so big? He’s already got you hot and you silently hated him for it. You rolled your eyes, whether at him or yourself, you weren’t too sure.

You looked away from him, breaking his menacing eye contact to look around the office where multiple desks sat in close proximity to each other before moving closer to his and plopping yourself down in his chair. You swivelled in it, not looking at one thing for too long.

His desk was neatly kept; two coffee mugs sat in one corner, a nice little lamp to illuminate his papers once it got dark, too many pens that had the ends chewed up, a rather beautiful glass ashtray where the cigarette he was smoking as you came in laid, an endless stream of smoke billowing out of it, and a pack of cigarettes thrown over the papers. 

You wondered how many late nights he spent here, you wondered what time he usually went home at. Was he exhausted when he returned home? Did he make himself supper? Eat leftovers? Did he just go straight to bed, or read something first? Or did he watch a movie? You found yourself wanting to know every little detail about him, not sure why sitting at his desk felt so intimate and personal.

A little piece of him. Everything he deemed absolutely essential to get through the long days laid here.

Flip leaned his butt against the top of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest as you ran your hands over the knobs to the drawers, silently wondering what was inside. He observed you.

Fuck you were so cute, he had almost forgotten it and he hated himself for it. How could he forget a face like that, a smile like yours? That was unforgettable and he hated how fucking corny he sounded even just thinking that. Your legs dangling off his chair, your hands lightly touching his stuff like you were too afraid you might disturb something, put it out of its place and make him have to fix it. 

He was so caught up in watching you that he almost didn’t register that you had stopped what you were doing and looked up at him from his chair, your neck straining from how tall he was in this position.

With a mind of its own, his hand reached out to touch your cheek, his thumb tracing so softly along the skin of your cheekbone. He saw your eyelids flutter, but you kept your eyes open, on him.

You were being so… obedient today, something Flip wasn’t necessarily expecting but something he thought about over the course of the last twenty hours since he last saw you, how you would act if you were being obedient. 

He thought about it as he bid you goodnight and on his drive back home from the disco, he thought about it as he walked through his house, as he put his stuff away, as he climbed into bed, he thought about it into the early hours of the morning where sleep couldn’t find him and he tossed and turned until his hand took care of something he had been trying to ignore, trying hard not to indulge in. He thought about it as his hand stroked himself over and over and over again until your name spilled out of his mouth pathetically and he-

“Want me to show you around?” His own mouth, cutting his derailed mind off and setting it back on track. You bit your lip and nodded your head quickly, standing up from his seat and waiting for him to lead the way. Flip let his hand fall from your cheek naturally, he grabbed another one of your cookies before he left the office room with you following behind him.

For such an unfamiliar building with absolute zero ease of navigation, Flip really seemed to know where he was taking you. You wondered how long he had worked here, how long he had been a detective. You even asked him which surprised the both of you for some reason. After taking a moment to think, trying to decide how much to tell you, he told you about how he was stationed in Vietnam before he came to work here as a detective. He talked a bit about his training, some past cases which were pretty minor or insignificant but still totally captivating to you.

Flip watched your face light up from the corner of his eyes as he told you some short stories about his time in Colorado Springs as a… detective and you found yourself much more intrigued than you thought you would have been. He laughed at your little gasps, your giggles, or when you tugged on his arm for him to keep going, to not leave you hanging. He really didn’t think about his job as interesting or worth all your intrigue, but seeing you so enthralled by his little stories, well that kind of made his heart skip a beat. Good thing no one he knew at the station was here to witness it.

“This is the final little corner of the station, the records room or file room, whatever. Lots of slightly different names for this hell hole.” Flip muttered, holding the door open for you as you walked into the record room.

It was like a little library, maybe six or seven iron shelved rows filled to the absolute brim with beige folder boxes, file drawers and even more cabinets near the wall in the back. You couldn’t imagine how many names, dates, incidents, trials and tribulations sat tucked away in those boxes. You wonder if he had read all of them, or at least most of them.

“Woah.” You said quietly, walking through the rows, running your hand along the edges of the boxes. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how these were organized. Alphabetically? By date? Year? Incident type?

“Most boring room in the station, not much to say about this one.” Flip shrugged. He explained how newbies get shoved in here to acclimate to the workplace and get to know everyone, get to know the files, the records, all that mind numbing shit. He kept his eyes trained on you as you moved through the rows, visions of you from last night, twirling and moving through the colourful light of the disco flashing through his mind.

“Can’t tell you how much shit I’ve gotten into from leaving the tiniest coffee ring in the corner of a file sheet…” Flip shook his head, looking at the ground and remembering how some rookie who’s name is now long forgotten (Flip thinks that he got restationed because he couldn’t put up with his shit) tried to tell him off for leaving a stain, trying to tell him that it ruined... something about the file. He can’t even remember, that’s how useless it was. Everyone else at the station had just stared, mouths agape at the rookie who had too much fire for his own good. Flip was pretty amused, he let the rookie spit his words at him before he walked away laughing.

“Oh, I bet.” You giggled, watching him as he delved back into that memory in his mind. You wondered what he was holding back, all the stories about this place that you hoped you would get to hear one day. You hoped he would share more with you but he just looked back down at you with those dark, dark eyes.

You could drown in them.

You wanted to.

The two of you were leaning on adjacent iron shelves, Flip took a tentative step closer to you, his long legs and the narrow rows made it so your chests were nearly touching. Your breath hitched in your throat, scared to breathe.

Flip’s hand came to cradle your throat, letting his palm glide along the skin of your neck, coming to wrap around your jaw, tilting your head up and to the side.

“You didn’t cover it.” His voice, so deep and rich, like molasses. Your hand slid up to your neck, touching the incredibly sensitive skin at his words. The hickey.

“You told me not to.” You said, your voice so, so quiet, matching his. You brought your hand up to wrap around his wrist, his thumb now lazily running itself over the abused skin, feeling your pulse underneath.

You wanted him to bite it, make it hurt more. Leave more on you, you wanted to be covered in them, his kisses, his markings. You wanted everyone to know he did this to you.

How embarrassing.

“So you do listen.” You could see him smirking and you just stared back at him, under some sort of trance. Maybe it was the dusty air of the record room infecting your brain.

“When I want to, yeah.”

Flip clenched your jaw, pinching your cheeks between his two fingers like he had done so similarly last night only now you weren’t intoxicated, somehow that made his proximity and his grip on you all the more dizzying.

“Are you going to listen today?” He pinched your cheeks harder, you could feel the spit pooling in your mouth. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to drool on him. You looked down between the two of you to see Flip moving his legs so that one of his muscular thighs was resting in between both of your legs, dangerously close to your sex. Just like last night. You nodded your head, looking back up to meet his eyes.

“Use your words-”

“Yes! Yes I-I’ll listen.” You don’t know what possessed you to answer so quickly, Flip chuckled at that. 

Cute, he thought.

Flip was not expecting you to beg so quickly, to bend to his will and actually listen to him. Maybe he had left you just needy enough last night for it to carry over and actually grow into today to the point where you were willing. Willing and capable, all for him.

Looking between your eyes and your lips, Flip plunged. His tongue instantly lured its way into your mouth, and you took him in with no complaints or whines. He shoved you harder against the shelf and you moaned into his mouth, both of you breathing heavily through your noses onto the others cheek. 

Experimentally, you sunk your teeth into Flip’s bottom lip, causing him to growl and kiss you with more fervour, muttering a rough ���fuck’ into your mouth. His body was pressed as close as possible to yours but it was like the two of you couldn’t get close enough, like each of your bodies was trying to inhale the other, to mold and become one.

You had no idea what he had planned for you but the sexual tension that had been building for the last twenty or so hours was blinding you, making you more than desperate for him to touch you or let you touch him. You unconsciously began to ground your hips into his thigh and coming up to graze his bulge as well.

His hand let go of your cheeks, coming down to join the other on your waist, pulling you up, up, up his thigh until your clit met with the rough fabric of his jeans. You gasped and your hands flew up to grab onto his shoulders, grabbing the leather of his holster to steady yourself.

What a day to wear a dress.

Flip stopped kissing you and that same look from earlier, his thinking face, washed over him. You stared, dumbfounded. Unsure of what he was thinking or why he was stopping this two nights in a row now. 

Maybe you did know, maybe you knew what he was thinking and you were playing dumb, or maybe you were just nervous. 

Maybe you just wanted him to push you. Break you even more. Your eyes pleaded with him to tell you, you wanted this to be good. You found yourself wanting to be good for him.

“Tell me.” You asked, lip trembling with want, with need. Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what you need.

“I- I can’t tell you how badly I want this.”

“Then have this, have me.” You didn’t understand.

“No I, want to have you… the way you deserve. I wasn’t just going to fuck you at the disco and make you think that was it.”

“Then don’t let me think that was it.” He could have just given you his number? What ended up happening today clearly worked out in some way? He was seriously confusing you.

“You’re fucking difficult you know that?” He groaned, rutting his hips against yours and you sighed, just wanting him to give into this.

“I’m trying to tell you I want to take you out on a real date, okay? More than one in fact, I want to see you all the fucking time. And you’re sitting here fucking whining about it.”

His words leave you flustered, breathless, incredibly fucking stunned.

More than one date. You couldn’t help but smile, you felt giddy.

“I’m not- I’m not whining about that Flip, I want-” I want that too, you were going to say but Flip cuts you off, again.

“Are you going to listen to me? You said you would.” He asked once more, his voice firmer, deeper, rougher around the edges than the last time he spoke. Fuck, this man was moody. Your hands dug into the holsters that framed his impossibly broad shoulders, you nodded your head. Desperation lacing your movements. 

Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes.

“Words.”

“Yes, Flip I promise. I’ll be good, I’ll listen, I promise. I need to touch you, let me-” You hand reached from his shoulder to the bulge in his pants. You felt like you were having déjà vu, the resemblance of your situation to that of last night was strange.

“No.” What? He stopped your hand in its tracks, his grip was deadly.

“What?”

“You don’t get to touch me.”

“Did I do somethin-”

“You’ll take what I give you.” His grip on your waist was bruising, but you decided against complaining about it. You liked the pain, it felt good to have his fingers digging into your flesh from self-restraint. You wanted his bruises all over your body. 

You were quiet for a moment, letting a beat pass between the two of you, just breathing in the buzzing electricity between your bodies.

“I’ll take anything.” You near close to whine, your voice so, so quiet and your head lulling to the side from how much he was drawing this out. You were becoming dizzier by the second.

“Fuck, that’s what I like to hear.” He huffs, gripping your waist and beginning to grind you down onto his thigh. “You’re going to get off on my thigh, you’ll thank me for it and then I’m gonna take you on the best fucking date you’ve ever been on. Tell me you understand.”

You moaned, loud. The friction was already overwhelming and you brought your hands to his biceps for balance, squeezing the firm muscle there. His arms were massive. You wanted him to crush you with them. This was already becoming too much.

“I understand.”

His hand left your waist and tapped you on your cheek, less than a slap but enough for it to startle you and look up at him. He was waiting for something. Shit, how were you supposed to address him? You stopped undulating your hips as you thought, frozen. He tapped your cheek again, harder this time after no complaint from the first one.

“Did I say you could stop? Keep going and answer me properly this time.”

“Fuck- I understand, Detective.” You whined, your eyes screwing shut as you kept grinding your clit along his thigh.

You were near delirious already, the friction was delicious, the thin cotton of your underwear doing nothing to minimize the sensation and you shamelessly moaned as you kept working yourself closer to your release, which was much closer than you would have hoped for.

“I-I’m not gonna last long, Flip- Detective, fuck.” You cried, tears welling in your eyes. You felt so embarrassed, using his thigh to get off while he watched you in the back of the record room. You just hoped he locked the door and that everyone else was far, far away from your cries of pleasure.

Moving one of his hands from your hip up to the edge of your dress where it was rustling against your thigh, Flip grabbed the soft material and lifted it up to reveal your soaked underwear and your frantic little thrusts. You grew hot under his gaze, you wanted to hide from him, hide from those eyes but you couldn’t. Fucking Medusa, frozen rock solid in place, forever.

He was mumbling to himself, your cries were deafening inside your head, your blood pumping loud, you could only make out part of what he was saying.

“Pretty fucking pussy…. So good for me… that’s it.”

You wailed and tried to curl yourself forward, to hide in his warm chest, to cry against his flannel but he held you where you were with the hand that was holding the end of your dress, pushing your shoulders back into the iron frame. Your dress lifted with his hand to expose more of you to him, your cute little underwear, your stomach, clenching and unclenching, and the underside of your breasts.

You were perfect, he thought. He was completely mesmerized. He had never been so forthcoming with a woman before, especially not on the second fucking day of knowing her. But there was something about you that made him lose his fucking mind. He had to have you, he didn’t care which way, and he didn’t care that he was going to make himself wait longer to actually fuck you. He was going to do this properly, you deserved that. Flip had decided you deserved everything. 

The little noises you were making were the prettiest fucking noises Flip had ever heard; music, a symphony filled with his name and little cries, made just for him. He could lose himself in you, he already has. 

He was trying hard not think too much about what it would be like to fuck you for the first time, to get in that tight little pussy and have you cry on his cock. No, if he thought about it too much, he was sure he was going to pass out and he needed to stay focused on you, you were right in front of him, losing yourself on his thigh.

“Flip, I think… can I?”

He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t realize you were looking at him with pleading eyes, whining and on the edge of orgasm, tears begging to spill from the precipice. How could he deny you? Such a pretty crier.

“Cum for me.”

With a few more pathetic thrusts, your hips, legs and whole body convulsed, twitched and you came hard on his thigh. He let you fall towards his chest now as you moaned his name into the fabric, cradling the back of your head and pressing your body firm against him as you rode out your high, the tremors wracking your body. Your nails seemed to try to pierce the leather of his holsters as your body arched into his, trying to get closer, closer, closer.

“Good girl... you did so fucking good.” He shushed you, saying your name quietly. You rubbed your clit on his thigh until you bordered on overstimulation, your limbs tingling as they lost sensation and you gave into him completely, Flip was the only thing keeping you upright at this point.

“So good for me.” He whispered, lips brushing against your temple. You tried to thank him, like he had asked but words escaped you, your brain could not put two and two together besides Flipflipflipflipflipflip.

“Th… thank-”

“I know.” He chuckled, shushing you again. You managed to let out a tiny laugh as well, snuggling further into his chest for a moment before leaning back against the shelf, your feet seeming to make contact with the floor for the first time in ages. You sighed happily, breathing returning to normal, finally. You stared dopily up at him, his smile matching yours. You both looked high. You giggled at the thought.

Flip let you off of his thigh and patted your ass as you landed back on the floor, then ducked down, taking your lips into his to kiss you roughly. You moaned and grabbed the hair at the bottom of his head, tugging him down to you further.

“So how about dinner? Tuesday night?” He muttered against your lips, not wanting to pull away from you yet.

“Why not tonight?” Flip slapped your ass again, harder this time and you gasped into his open mouth. He was really about to rile you back up again. And you were already willing him to do so. Your bratty mouth never seemed to stop.

“Can’t, I have a lot of fucking work right now, doll. Tuesday I get off at three.”

“Then I’ll meet you at three on Tuesday?” Flip chuckled again, squeezing the skin on your hips into his hands, making you wince and shove him away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him. Sometimes he looked like a giant puppy. A stupidly sexy, giant puppy.

“You’ll meet me here on Tuesday at three. Come here on foot like you did today, I’ve got a ride.” He instructed, you nodded your head.

“I understand.” You smiled up at him, hands wrapping around and tugging on his holsters.

Oh, Flip liked that.

[becca-e-barnes]

hi this is lesbian nonnie! i know y’all already covered this but to the person asking if they can be straight and still be attracted to fictional women the answer is YES!

i don’t know exactly how you’re feeling but i do understand your confusion! i’ve felt it so many times before baby, just on the other side of the spectrum ;) often times lesbians are attracted to fictional and unattainable men: movie/book/tv characters, celebrities, people way out of their age range, professors, older family friend, random hot guy i saw in a coffee shop who gave me a free hot chocolate…you get the point! The reason we feel this way is for that very reason, they are unattainable! like as much as i can fantasize about it i know i will never go on a date with chris evans! that’s what makes it fun, i can imagine myself in those scenarios while also understanding it will never happen and i won’t ever actually have to be in those situations with a man! And i know your situation is pretty different but hopefully that can help your perspective a bit :)

You can also TOTALLY be sexually attracted to some women & not romantically at all. You can identify as straight and still find women hot/sexy/beautiful/kissable/fuckable…you get the point! sexuality is fluid and a spectrum and it’s totally okay to still be figuring yourself out!

i have some days where i question myself, and my sexuality. questioning doesn’t make you any less valid! and who knows, maybe someday i will meet the perfect guy and fall in love with him, but even that won’t make the way i identify now any less valid! I’m 19 for christ sake i’ve got my whole life ahead of me!

The saying “it’s just a phase” is so harmful for so many reasons. 1) it can be extremely invalidating to queer people!!! 2) even if it is a phase, who the fuck cares? how are people suppose to figure themselves out if they don’t experiment and try out different labels? if you know you’re hetero-romantic but think you might be bi-sexual that’s totally and completely valid! don’t let anyone tell you that it’s not.

sexuality and gender is a spectrum. experimenting is healthy. don’t feel pressure to use labels. and if you do like using labels, don’t feel bad if you want to change them later!!

hell i went from identifying as straight to identifying as bi to identifying as pan then going back to thinking i was straight then bi again then thinking i was non binary and bisexual and now im pretty sure i know i’m a lesbian who just wants to bang traumatized fictional characters and go out with chris evans! :D

bottom line it takes awhile to understand your identity, no one is born knowing who they are it takes a long ass time to get there. even if it seems like everyone else has got it figured out, i promise you they don’t. you’re not alone baby!

sorry for the long rant i’m procrastinating and also love talking about this kind of stuff! peace out y’all! 🧁🤍🕊🍾🎧

I literally don’t even have a single thing I can add to this, it was all perfect!! Thank you lesbian nonnie! 😘

[paul-patts-blog]

all for my boyfriends (why am i not dating any of your women?)

no women for u. 

BERLIOZ 

☾ - sleep headcanon-- berlioz rarely  sleeps in the nude. even after sex, he gets cold and has to grab a shirt and boxers. many times he has managed to sweet talk simba into doing it so he can stay curled in the covers. 

★ - sad headcanon- ugh his entire demeanor?? there r just so many 

☆ - happy headcanon- ber has learned a lot of life skills the past two years, like laundry, grocery shopping, vacuuming-- even cooking! tbh he has grown to really like coming over to help nounou prepare dinner since he does that (or did that) with simba. 

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- ber’s anger is cold and sharp. he is not a physical guy but knows how to say like the perfect brutal thing. dem bonfamilles yo. 

✿ - Sex headcanon- ber is nasty. UHHHH. ber never went down on a girl and probably never will lolololol 

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- as a young broody teen, ber literally made a KEEP OUT sign that he put on his doorknob at all times. it was mostly for marie tbh who terrorized him and his stuff

♡ - romantic headcanon- ber literally can’t look at a rose without thinking of simba and also simba’s aunt who has a rose farm. for the rest of his life, that’s what he’ll think about. 

♥ - family headcanon- hector was the person who bought berlioz his first david bowie album and on the day bowie died-- ber actually texted his dad and they had a CALL about it. it’s one of the only things they have in common. 

☮ - friendship headcanon- ber is literally the best friend u can have ok if u get him on ur side he’s one of those who will ride or die, offer to bury the body, etc. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- he really likes MAPS. whenever he goes to a new city he picks up the city map and keeps it. his desk is like fuuuull of maps. i’m sure lou has gotten him like old, antique maps before that he has in frames. 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- likes really long plane rides, longer the better, loves airplane food, loves the whole nine yards /  dislikes any gossip or reality tv show it like literally makes him SO mad like he can’t watch dance moms or keeping up with the kardashians he gets /upset/ bc ppl are so /mean/ and /stupid/ and he hates it 

▼ - childhood headcanon- would wake up early to watch pokemon his one exception to the sleep until noon rule. 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- ber will be that old man busting out beautiful piano pieces in random places bc he will have lost all his fucks by then

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- wow can my above one with nounou count-- uhhh he is in charge of cutting veggies. 

☼ - appearance headcanon- ber is the type of boy to never take off his concert wristbands. sometimes he picks at them and they get ripped up and nasty and eventually they fall off. 

ൠ - random headcanon- i am bad at these uuuuuh ber once sang the pina colada song to simba when he was drunk outta his brain and simba probably captured a good 80 percent on video. 

◉ - Any other question of your choosing- idk im uncreative

HADES

☾ - sleep headcanon- hades has discovered that listening ot books on tape helps him get to sleep! 

★ - sad headcanon- uh that his mum didn’t leave a goodbye note 

☆ - happy headcanon- uhhh once opal saved up her money and took hades and persephone out to the movies and then they had ice cream!!! and that was the closet thing to a holiday that hades had as a child oh this god sad again

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- he used his ghost powers on his grandfather to like smash his grandfather’s head into the kitchen counter after he said something Truly Rude and knocked him out and seph was scared and crying and he had to call the ambulance and tbh he was very scared and felt guilty these r all sadder than my sad headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon- goes down on belle at every opportunity bc he has a control kink (also does fantasize about her going down on him boy just likes oral sex)

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- hades room is immaculate. he makes his bed every single day and washes his sheets once a week. or he did now he lives in hell and its SO DUSTY and he does all the dusting, 

♡ - romantic headcanon- uh lmao fuck uh. hades version of romance is having belle practice the debate questions with him. 

♥ - family headcanon- opal taught both her kids to read and do arithmetic before their peers and that’s why the acherons r smart alecks 

☮ - friendship headcanon- hades now plays words with friends with belle AND lou. wow. so popular. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- hades organizes the cereals in the pantry by alphabetical order. and the spices. and soups. basically anything that can be organized he likes having systems ok. 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- blackjack and really gambling in general tbh he’s real good at it / dislikes- fried food 

▼ - childhood headcanon- walked to school no matter the weather bc people on the bus would torment seph and though he woulda FOUGHT THEM OFF seph just wanted to avoid it so, he walked her to school

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- hades is honestly going to have trouble giving up immortality. he’s vain and he doesn’t want to grow old tbh. and bc he’s the ambassador he almost doesnt /have/ to ... 

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- hades loves chocolate milk its a sinful indulgence that he probably hid from belle for a long time and tbh he still denies himself chocolate milk a lot like challenges himself to go without chocolate milk for 90 days stupid shit like that everything’s a competition BUT HE LOVES CHOCOLATE MILK SO MUCH 

☼ - appearance headcanon- always immaculate. always. 

ൠ - random headcanon- hades sometimes refolds belle’s clothes that she folds bc its not good enough, sorry hon, 

◉ - Any other question of your choosing-don’t come at me

PAUL 

☾ - sleep headcanon- paul’s sleep schedule has long been outta wack, so he usually can only sleep three or four hours before his body gets himself up. normally he goes and gets a glass of water or if it’s a more restless night, he’ll have to read himself back to sleep. 

★ - sad headcanon- paul was the one who told his mother that lucas died 

☆ - happy headcanon- when the babies were born paul like basically spent the entire day taking pictures of themmm with perdy and he was so so happy and he still has every single picture no matter how terrible the shots 

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- paul has a tiny bit of a violent streak in him that he can mostly control, but he does get into fights with other blokes and has thrown stuff when he gets mad. 

✿ - Sex headcanon- the first time paul had sex his first words were “holy shit” quickly followed by “sorry” quickly followed by him coming. it was not the most impressive first time.

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- paul and lucas shared a room and they were around the same size and had lots of the same tastes so they shared everything else too, so often that when lucas died, paul couldn’t remember if certain shirts were his, which albums were his, etc. 

♡ - romantic headcanon- paul is the type to write random notes and leave them around the house. he did this for perdy when she was pregnant and some of them had clues that led to OTHERs because he’s extra we know he’s extra 

♥ - family headcanon- the patts family is rarely all in one place, but they always congregate for one thing: football in the spot. unless paul’s mom is having a bad time, even she’ll come down. 

☮ - friendship headcanon- though roger is certainly his best friend, harry is his oldest friend-- knowing him since they were both wee lads in primary school around 6 or 7 years old. they tried out for the football team together. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- paul actually knows how to brew his own beer! he learned his from johnny, who is a beer connoisseur and like makes his own types and swears he’s gonna get rich of them (probably never will) but Paul used to help Johnny with the whole process and they’d organize like ‘tasting’ parties which-- was just a bunch of men getting very drunk and playing card games tbh.  

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- shopping for new clothes, he always feels so fancy and rich / grocery shopping nothing could be more boring and he usually impulse buys like more beer and sweets than he needs lol 

▼ - childhood headcanon- paul broke his arm when he was 8 after falling out of a tree and into the shrubbery. he was trying to hide from simon who had just got a new paintball gun and wanted to use paul as his target practice !!! 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- paul is gonna be the old guy who thinks he’s “cool” and “hip” and will like do the line dances and idk probably pick up a mid-life crisis hobby like SKIING thats dangerous but makes him feel “alive.”

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- his mother makes the most amazing cinnamon hot cocoa. whenever he’s sad, it’s what he craves, to him, sadness tastes and smells like cinnamon. 

☼ - appearance headcanon- paul loves getting ready for events. he and perdy would spend an equal amount deciding on outfits and doing their hair and shit he just-- feels so goddamn fancy. 

ൠ - random headcanon- paul lets edith read all his stories. she is the only one. she still gets emailed drafts. this is because edith hates reading, so if edith likes something, he knows that it’s good.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing

[w12avril-blog]

OBSERVING BY AVRIL AND PASCALE

1.EXT. BACKYARD PORCH SWING. NOON.

The house is old, blue and has a suburban feel to it. The backyard porch swing is plainly wooden and looks upon a large garden full of greens. Two old ladies;roughly in their 80’s; CALLIE and EVELYN, sit on the swing drinking lemonade while looking upon the young male gardeners;around the age of twenty-five; SAMUEL and JAYDEN. The day is hot and humid and the boys are shirtless and have a gleam of sweat covering their bodies.

          CALLIE I’m so glad we’re finally getting this done. The garden was such a frightful mess.

            EVELYN Oh yes truly. (Takes a sip of her lemonade) I just feel so terrible that the boys have to do it in such uncomfortable heat…

         CALLIE Be fair to yourself Evelyn,you do not. Neither do I if i’m being completely honest.

The ladies have a laugh and take another long gaze at their view. One of the gardeners;JAYDEN;notices and lifts his arm to send a wave their way then gets back to work.

          CALLIE Just look at the way his muscles flex when he lifts his arms.. I wonder what they feel like..

           EVELYN Callie! Oh would you behave we could be their grandmothers!

            CALLIE Oh settle down Evie, We both know you were thinking it as well, I just decided to say it out loud.

The ladies giggle again.

            EVELYN You are so bad. This feels foolish. (She says with a smirk on her face)

            CALLIE It’s not like we’re doing anything bad! We are just observing the view, and just to ease you guilt a little more we have been single ladies for a while now i’m sure Burt and Henry would understand.We’re just having a bit of fun.

            EVELYN Well i’ve always had a bit of a liking towards Samuel, he clearly has a very good body as well.

They observe SAMUEL as he mows the lawn without a shirt on. He is clearly in very good shape and his muscles are flexing as he pushes the lawn mower along the garden. He is around 6’2 and very well built, he has tanned skin, black hair and blue eyes.

            CALLIE I wonder how he is in bed..

            EVELYN CALLIE!!!

            CALLIE What! Just because we’re old doesn't mean our sexual drive has expired forever! It’s not a sin to be sexually attracted to someone below the age of 60!… I’m sorry for yelling at you but i’m just trying to really set it in your mind that it’s OK.

             EVELYN I know that Callie, just be a bit more discreet, any louder and I fear the boys will hear us.

They giggle again and lower their voices.

             EVELYN What about the other one.. what do you think of him?

They look off to the other gardner, JAYDEN, and observe his deep glorious chocolate skin. He’s around 5’11,half Jamaican half South African,with piercing green eyes.

             CALLIE Oh He’s adventurous I can tell.

             EVELYN Are you judging that because of his race!?

             CALLIE No of course not! Just look at him though, the way he holds himself and the look in his eyes, I can just tell he's rigorous… Anyways it’s been a while and I understand the age difference but.. OH can’t a woman just dream.

             EVELYN Ugh i guess your right… and here I am laying all my cards on the table so don’t say anything devilish but it’s definitely been a while since I was last with a man. I mean Burt died 8 years ago and I always thought that was it ,I am a widow, closed for business but every time that young man comes over here and takes that shirt off and starts mowing that lawn I get this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach i haven’t felt since Burt and then my imagination starts to run wild.A bit ridiculous i know but wow can that man do some wild things in my mind and oh WOOF!

They giggle.

           CALLIE Oh Evelyn your just horny. (She says a little louder)

           EVELYN CALLIE! Watch your volume!

           CALLIE Hey now we both; yet again; know its true. And its fine! You don't need to feel like we are going against the lord and our wedding vows if you've got a naughty feeling about some young hot thing who's accessible and fun to look at! By the looks of it he’s got this Christian Grey-esque to him.

         EVELYN BEHAVE!… Who’s Christian Grey..?

          CALLIE He’s this successful sex crazed young man who loves the whole domination part of sexual intercourse! Ain’t he exiting!
           EVELYN How do you know this Mr.Grey! Have you been seeing some sort of male escort!? Do you have any idea how many diseases they carry!

          CALLIE No no no, don’t get your panties in a bunch and assume the worst of me, i’m still a classy respectful woman. (Pause) He’s just this character in this novel I read recently for fun. It was quite naughty, felt exhilarating.

The ladies giggle again.

            EVELYN Oh my! What’s this book called? Sounds like something fun and refreshing.

            CALLIE 50 Shades of Grey! You would love it! Anyways now that I think of it Samuel actually fits Christian’s description quite nicely. I wonder if he’s as adventurous as the infamous grey…

            EVELYN Wouldn't you like to know. Who knew your mind was so adventurous and wild!

            CALLIE Im you understand! Wouldn't you like to spice things up a bit

            EVELYN Well yes, of course, but how? I mean, at our age? Were practically dinosaurs. I say we leave it be and just admire from afar.

           CALLIE Well speak for yourself woman. I will not sit and allow myself to fantasize any longer.

           EVELYN Well, then what do you suggest we do? These beautiful young men could be our grandkids. Heck maybe even great-grandkids.I am in no mood to embarrass myself by throwing myself at a perfectly structured young man and having him laugh in my face.

             CALLIE Well what makes you think they would laugh at us?

             EVELYN Were 82!

             CALLIE Fine, but I don't agree with you.

             EVELYN Well, now that thats off the table what do you suggest we do?

             CALLIE Since you're asking, I say we go to Christa’s Barbecue next sunday, Her father and a couple of his friends are coming up from Nevada this weekend and I'm gonna get to know one of them.

             EVELYN Grandfathers. You want me to get all down and dirty with a Grandpa?

             CALLIE as a matter of fact most of them are in their late sixties early seventies.

             EVELYN How about, if one of these fine men say no to me, then we can go to “Christa’s Barbecue”.

JUST AS THEY WERE ABOUT TO SHAKE ON IT THEIR EYES WERE DRAWN AWAY BY THE MOVEMENT ON THE LAWN. STANDING THERE LIPS LOCKED WERE JAYDEN AND SAMUEL.

CALLIE SMIRKED

             CALLIE Christa’s it is.