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#and i timed each scene to make sure they had enough time do to everything 🙈
ruewrote ¡ 1 day
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𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.
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PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry WORD COUNT: 1294
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it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.
it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.
him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.
when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.
tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.
he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.
every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.
you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.
it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?
you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?
what would it take for you to finally tell him?
ding dong!
the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.
"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.
"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"
with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.
watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."
"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.
"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.
it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.
"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.
it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.
so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.
with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.
you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.
trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.
feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.
the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?
stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?
when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.
"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.
"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.
"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.
"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.
"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"
"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.
his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"
"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.
"you like me? like like me like me?"
sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.
you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"
"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."
"would you prefer shnookums?"
"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.
from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.
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i NEED new stiles stilinski fics to read.
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mejomonster ¡ 19 days
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I finished final fantasy vii rebirth and. Some mixed opinions.
The main good points: as a Sequel to original FF7? Its good. The women are all written well (which was a concern considering Kairi and Lunafreya in past games), and everyone was in character just fleshed out more (with 2 slight exceptions). What the game did best was accomplish an open world game, world spanning adventure, stick fairly well to some main highlights from original ff7 (which is what people wanted for ages) and with new stuff thats fun if you like the world, very little wasting of player time (so much better than ff7 remake). It did open world well, pacing well, side quests and mini games well, characters well, combat well, and overall gave the feel of what square enix was maybe Hoping and Wishing to successfully accomplish in a mainline game for years but either hasnt been able to achieve on a technical level or fumbled in the past. (So no time wasting dungeons like ff7 remake, fleshed out open world with stuff you enjoy doing so more than ff15, open world so more than ff13, and combat that feels like things theyve learned and improved on well). How it feels to play? Great, fast paced, no dead time, all enjoyable game you came to play. (With the exception maybe of Cait Siths box mandatory mini game and the aerith in ancient temple magic platforms thing but they both werent too difficult to push through if you dont enjoy them).
The bad? Mostly... if you treat Rebirth as a SEQUEL to original ff7, these arent major issues. They just annoy me as a player of the original ff7 game. Because i know plenty of people will ONLY play ff7 Remake and Rebirth etc, and never know the original characterizations. So 2 characters were slightly unlike their original ff7 selves, and instead more like their Advent Children (and general non ff7 appearances) selves: aerith and sephiroth. Sephiroth's character being NOT like ff7 originals is more irritating personally. Because yeah... i get it. As a sequel to original ff7, this Remake/Rebirth Sephiroth might be from the future (so he is Advent Children esque version of himself), hes had time post losing his way to really get all mysterious and hyperfocus on cloud and be a looming vague pest. But the thing is... in the original ff7 the reason we learn hes used to be a SOLDIER war hero, is so the cast and you are confused why he kills Shinra people. Then you and the casy figure: well cloud remembers sephiroth finding out hes a monster cause of shinra, justifiable for sephiroth to hate shinra. Unflrtunately Sephiroth also decided to hate ALL HUMANS. Then you later find out maybe Jenovas controlling Sephiroth/one with him etc. But the key here is you find out at some point in original ff7 that sephiroths goal is mainly Destroy World because Hes not Human. Rebirth... does not clarify this very important and very BASIC point ever. Maybe it assumes its so basic that as a ff7 fan you should know.. but plenty of new players wont. Rebirth clarifies yes sephiroth may be Jenovas kid... but the whole MOM, im an ancient like Jenova! Oh Jenova isnt an ancient oh well fuck humans anyway! Either way fuck humans ill kill them all! None of those Very basic sephiroth motives are clarified much. I felt Rebirth did good explaining the Gi and the black materia. But to make Sephiroths motives so vague, why he wants to end the world SO VAGUE, why hes in clouds head (the black robes are everywhere but the game HINTS theure sephiroth clones but never actually spells it out eevn though its a BASIC KEY DETAIL). Now... because Rebirth is a sequel, it makes sense... if hes Advent Children Sephiroth he already knows he isnt an ancient, knows hes Jenovas kid, knows he wants to fuck with Cloud specifically now and the world generally but not necessarily so singlemindedly desperate to just kill all humans. So yes, Sephiroth is in character for his future self... but i feel like even with him less SINGLE MINDED and freshly with Jenova, clarifying some basics of his Original old timeline motives... would be helpful to new fans. So it annoyed me. I think the biggest Not Good writing decision in Rebirth was to never fucking clarify Sephiroths original basic goal: im not human like mom, hate humans, kill world. I suspect the writers either thought players KNEW so hinted instead of being on the nose (but to new players theyll just be CONFUSED), or they plan to explain those basic things in game 3. Which seems stupid to me and shouldve been explained earlier.
And Aerith. As a sequel? She remembered the other timeline which explained some moments she was calmer than original ff7. She forgot, then toward the end of Rebirth she seems to have remembered the other timeline again and that she needs to die and X happens etc. So her being calmer based on the plot they wrote for Rebirth? Makes sense. However... i deeply miss her Original FF7 personality where as an Ancient she freaks out a bit LIKE sephiroth, paralleling him, that shes not human, a freak, that it all rests on her as only one ancient left. Their overwhelm parallels each other. Aerith is more scared in original ff7 of being the only ancient, of what it means, of finding out more. That fear is slightly there in Rebirth but WAY LESS. its only a little in cosmo canyon and almost gone in the Ancient Temple. In ff7 expanded universe theyve changed her character over time to a calmer wiser goddess type like in Advent Children, and so yes in Rebirth when she remembers the alrernate timeline it makes sense she'd be calmer like her future self. However... i miss original ff7 aerith. I miss her initial shock, loneliness, fear of the weight on her shoulders, not being sure what to do. Her and Sephiroth, because of Rebirth writing them to know more, act more like their future selves and so. While it is in character and logical to the Rebirth plot. Its also sad to me that anyone who only plays Remake and Rebirth simply wont see what they were like WHEN these revelations were brand new shocks to them, forcing them to react and grow and fear. I dont think Aerith is written bad, i just think because this game is in reality is a Sequel im just personally mourning that it didnt have that as much of the original Aerith's personality who was afraid and discovering. Mostly her Rebirth personality is similar to original ff7s. But in some high tension moments shes way calmer and wiser than in the original. I miss getting to see some of that before to after character growth.
Oh and. The aerith dies scene. Does it make sense in context of Rebirth written as a sequel? Sure. Is it impactful? Not as much as the original. In Rebirth, theres a scene where Cloud is losing control and listening to Sephiroth and attacks Tifa, causing Tifa to fall into mako. That scene is high stakes and emotional and lands WELL. Later in Rebirth, when Aerith actually dies, Cloud has not lost control and isnt the one who killed her. Its fine, as a sequel to ff7 i get the choice to make him able to stop himself from hurting her. But it does make the scene less impactful: now cloud will NOT be blaming himself for her death, will not be struggling with the guilt and fear, and will not be as terrified of losing control again. Since he wasnt the one who attacked her. And since he saw her ghost/something post death, hes not even sad or grieving her. He thinks shes fine. These 2 things will result in a WILDLY DIFFERENT cloud moving forward than the original ff7 one who very much was distraught and horrified he did that. So like... as a sequel its fine these changes were made. But death wise... i wouldve prefered like, cloud drops her from up high qhile struggling with whispers, or doesnt get to her in time and sephiroth stabs her when shes too far away. The way Rebirth did it, cloud was near her, she gets stabbed anyway. It seemed to me almost like the writing was trying to vaguely or softly kill her, like somehow making it vague would make it hurt less. Yeah it did hurt less... but id rather if a character i love dies that its a Worthy Scene for them to die in. A strong meaningful scene that makes me cry, that felt like the loss it is. The Rebirth scene... couldve done its plot as intended and just make Cloud farther away or something and it wouldve been better to me. Maybe the writing point was Cloud thinks its fine, and its still not, and he cant even feel distaught because he cant tell if she died or if things are fine? Thats the only angle i can see where maybe the death scene did what the writers wanted? Anyway. Aeriths moms death made me sob, Aeriths death did not. It is what it is. I feel like Tifa, crying in my heart off screen, the game acting like Cloud like its fine and it looks fine to him but im confused like Tifa aa to why hes (the game) treating it that way. Lol.
Overall? Um 4/5. 8/10? Really solid square enix game, Amazing as far as final fantasy 7 SEQUELS go. It has one main weak spot in treating Sephiroth fully mysterious when a few clarifying details could help the game stand on its own Better (and make Sephiroth a stronger enemy character instead of a vaguer one). The other weak spots are more my personal preference and mourning the parts of ff7 original i miss and had wished were in this, but as this is a Sequel in a parallel timeline i dont feel the parts effect Rebirth on its own merit. It IS the best Square Enix game ive played in ages, at least since Final Fantasy X or XII. I thought it was better than FF13, FF15, definitely better than ff7 remake (i hate time wasting dungeons and bad pacing its a dealbreaker), and than kh3 (although kh3 was quite good for a kh sequel). I get to play FF16 next, which will hopefully be as good as Rebirth or better! Since its also on the PS5 and clearly from Rebirth, the square enix main team can do excellent combat, open world, level design, mini games, side quests, and good pacing now. So i'll just have to see if ff16's story is better. And i am guessing it hopefully will be, since Rebirth as an ff7 sequel has some weirdness to its plot quite typical of ff7 extended universe stories like Crisis Core and Dirge of Cerberus. Whereas ff16 is a brand new plot, so they have nothing preventing them from a tight excellent written story except themselves. I am curious how BIG ff16s world will be though. Because ff7 Rebirths world was MASSIVE and very full of stuff, tons of mini games, cool stuff to find or do or little character side quests. If ff16 also takes me 60 hours to beat the main story its gonna be thw longest final fantasy main title ive ever played.
Rebirth is very replayable if you enjoyed it. I will probably replay ff7 original soon.
#final fantasy vii rebirth#ff7r#lb#rant#oh and shipping discourse lol: if you ship tifa x aerith? GREAT TIME#tifa mourns aerith more than cloud does. tifa aerith ARE IN LOVE. great time for me as an aerti fan and ot4 fan#i do think in theory the writers had aerith x cloud scenes more in Rebirth since aerith dies at the end. and predict game 3 will have#more tifa x cloud scenes. so itll be even by the end. i think everything was in character tho tbh#(in my opinion anyway)#like. aerith x tifa x cloud x zack i ship and they clearly all CARE for each other. zack loves aerith but also saved cloud#when aerith likes cloud. zack is big enough to be happy for aerith and want her to have what SHE wants.#cloud loved zack and was so fucked emotionally when zack died he convinced himself he WAS zack. tifas his childhood crush. aerith likes him#and he gradually does like her back too. (clouds very not interested in crushes tho tbh. hed happilt be in ot3 with#tifa and aerith or ot4 with zack or ot3 with barret too if they just told him to be)#and tifa loves cloud but wisely isnt sure how he feels OR whats going on mentally with him. and is focusing on building trust#that cloud will communicate with her BEFORE getting romantic (shes wise we should all copy her). and she loves aerith. which is goof#cause cloud isnt giving aerith some care she Needs. but Tifa always does give aerith that support.#tifa knows aerith likes cloud. so tifa simply is likinv her 2 crushes (happy to be in an ot3 if aerith and cloud would start it)#but tifas shy and slow going ans values friends MORE so shes not making any major moves until she knows the other 2 aerith and cloud#are emotionally stable (and theyre lol not)#and now shes grieving aerith so :/. my point is: all the romance is written very in character#very similar to original ff7. and if ur a tifa AND aerith as characters fan like me?#its really NICE to have 2 main woman leads in a game (with romance even) who are full characters ON THEIR OWN#and really well written and with relationships outside of cloud. (again... after lunafreya and kairi#i was worried tifa or aerith as love interests might get written BAD or flat or destroyed writing wise#by some shitty square enix writer *cough* who tends to butcher woman characters if theyre love interests)#so im super glad i could just enjoy tifa and aerith#also as a Non romance lover. i enjoyed that Rebirth focused HEAVY on friends but had very little actual romance#flirting yeah sure. but aerith and tifa never even kissed cloud in my playthrough (yay for me)#their crushes are just side details they mention to be direct and communicate (wise of them) but the romance isnt the main point
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hyperfixating-rn-brb ¡ 5 months
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The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.
Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.
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For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.
They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?
And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.
Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.
Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.
They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.
Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.
In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.
Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.
And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.
Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.
Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.
That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.
edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)
source for anyone asking for it!
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5K notes ¡ View notes
psychedelic-ink ¡ 7 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort
word count: 4.9k
summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.
warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)
a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it
a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕
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Joel was never that into gambling. 
Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 
He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 
Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 
However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 
One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 
Liam folds. 
A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 
“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 
Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 
“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 
Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 
“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 
Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 
“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 
“Fuck you, Miller.” 
“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 
Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 
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“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 
“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 
You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 
That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?
“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 
“You should’ve thought of that before.” 
“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 
“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 
“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 
“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 
You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.
“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 
“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 
The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 
And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 
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You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 
Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 
Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 
The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 
You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 
You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 
And it seemed like you were no exception. 
Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 
You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 
“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 
Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 
And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 
It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 
And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 
The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 
You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 
There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 
“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 
After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 
“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 
He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 
“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 
Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 
“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 
Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 
He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 
“God, yes.” 
You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 
Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.
He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 
Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 
“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 
Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 
Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 
“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 
It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 
“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 
The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 
“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 
Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 
After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 
“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 
He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 
“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 
You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 
You sink to your knees immediately after that. 
He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 
You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 
“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 
You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 
“Get on with it then.” 
Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 
“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 
“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”
Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  
“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 
As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 
“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 
His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 
“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 
Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 
“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 
“Is this pussy mine?” 
“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 
Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 
He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 
“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 
Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 
You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 
“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 
“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 
“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 
His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 
“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 
“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 
His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 
Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 
With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 
“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 
Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 
You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 
“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 
“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 
“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 
You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 
You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 
“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 
Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 
If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 
“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 
“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 
“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 
Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 
“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 
“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 
Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 
Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 
Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 
“I think he left, sweetheart.” 
“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 
Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 
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withahappyrefrain ¡ 3 months
Text
Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd
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Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.
Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.
Words: 4.8K
This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!
When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 
“God, I wish that were me.”
It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 
But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 
It also brought up many questions. 
Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 
Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 
All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 
Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 
Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 
The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 
“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”
“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 
“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”
“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”
Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 
At least that's what the other thought. 
It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 
“Been awhile?” 
And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 
“Try never.” 
It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 
“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 
“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 
You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 
You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 
“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 
Darn those long limbs. 
“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 
“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 
Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 
College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 
And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 
Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 
“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 
Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 
You rubbed your thighs together. 
“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 
Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 
Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 
Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 
“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 
His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 
Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 
“You…like doing it?” 
The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 
It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 
He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 
“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 
“You don't have to wait.” 
The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 
But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 
You heard me. 
“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 
Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 
“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 
“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 
All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 
Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 
The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 
For what, you couldn't tell. 
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 
“Do you want it to be different?” 
What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?
“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 
He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”
He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  
“I asked you second, Robby.”
Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 
“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 
It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 
He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 
“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 
But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 
Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 
“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 
Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 
“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 
It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 
When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 
“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 
Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 
It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 
“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 
“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 
“God, you have terrible taste in men.”
You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 
How could he do that so quickly? 
He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 
When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 
Thank god your parents were on vacation. 
His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 
Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 
“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 
“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 
But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 
“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  
He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 
Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 
“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”
“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 
His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 
Good. 
You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 
God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 
And he had just gotten started. 
He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 
But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 
The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.
“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 
“Robby.” 
To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 
Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 
A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 
Was he this thick elsewhere?
You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 
Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 
You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 
But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 
He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 
Why did either of you wait this long? 
You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 
But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 
When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 
He really did enjoy it.
“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 
Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.
Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 
You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 
His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 
The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 
“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 
Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 
“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 
Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 
How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 
Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 
Jesus Christ, he was huge. 
“Fuck, she was right.” 
Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 
“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 
Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 
“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 
“I….we can unpack this later-” 
You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 
Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 
Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 
“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 
Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 
“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 
Darlin. You were his darlin. 
He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 
Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 
Even he didn't know when he would return home. 
It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 
“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 
His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 
“I don't want you to go.” 
“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 
“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 
“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 
Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 
“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 
“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 
Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 
Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 
He was going to need it for the next few months. 
Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 
“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 
The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 
“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 
Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.
“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 
Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 
Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 
“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 
Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 
In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 
His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 
You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 
It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 
“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 
Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 
“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 
Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 
But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 
His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 
That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 
But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 
“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 
Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 
Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 
The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 
His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 
You’d be a damn fool to. 
The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 
After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 
Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 
You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 
He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 
“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 
“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 
The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 
The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 
Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.
---------------------------------------------------------
@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky
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ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 8 months
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Okay so here, I think, is why I think Red, White and Royal Blue succeeds spectacularly as a romcom, and actually to me is a better-than-average take on the genre.
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First, the leads have absolutely scorching chemistry. They are incredibly believable as two men absolutely infatuated with each other. They each kiss like drowning men shown water, right down to how each grabs at the other, at hair or back or neck and face.
They each have developed their character having a specific characteristic even when flirting or kissing. Henry grabs Alex's hair, for example, every single time, in a way that makes it clear he spends serious time thinking about that hair.
Fair enough, Henry.
They also do something even goddamn better.
They are friends. They are believable as two people who could actually get along long enough to fall in love.
They are allowed to become FRIENDS.
They are given time to get to know each other before they get physical. You can feel their interest in each other growing. And, to my opinion, you can tell that Henry is feeling Alex out through texts to see if the interest might be reciprocated even though he thinks it can't possibly be.
One thing that kills me about romcoms is how the leads will have witty "sexy" banter but don't seem to actually like each other. They are enemies who fall into bed but aren't really believable as lovers.
Henry and Alex are believable, because they... Well. They're impossibly silly even when tearing at each other's clothes. They have awkward moments.
They laugh.
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Alex laughs in bed. He holds Henry in a way that is romantic, openly so. Henry is overcoming the conditioned hesitation and avoidance he has, his smiles and warmth and laughter come with rare vulnerability - Alex is a man who throws himself head first into life and has no such compunctions in the moment. He laughs because this is awesome and Jesus Christ, Prince Henry is too hot to be real.
They like each other, they stumble, they laugh.
But also, another reason this works so well?
The sex scene isn't scorching.
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Watching the sex scene felt realistically intimate. It felt like I had walked in one real people and needed to leave. It was intense in a way that felt like something I maybe wasn't meant to see.
It was filmed so well. So much romanticism and deeply felt adoration in a simple grasping of a hand, the look in soft eyes, a hand pressed against a back. The edge of a knee just in frame. Looking up and looking down.
It felt like we walked into their room during and saw them both laid utterly bare.
Henry's look of vulnerability and nerves and pleasure, Alex looking slowly over his face to take it all in. Moving slowly, then, when everything they do before this is hurried or hidden.
It works as a romcom because you believe 100% these two men could get to like each other, fall in love, and stay that way.
You believe Henry's very real terror of rejection from the public because he already knows his family, beyond his sister, will reject him. You believe that Alex is a headstrong idealist who is sure that you can bulldoze through any wall too tall to climb.
And you believe that between the two of them, they can find a way around the wall entirely.
This movie is a master class on how a movie can get you to suspend so much disbelief if the leads sell their characters. The importance of believable chemistry.
And also... Isn't it nice to see a queer love story in a world that is, in some ways, just a few shades better than our own?
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P.S. you cannot tell me Stephen Fry did not chew the goddamn scenery in circles all around everyone during his single scene. That man was having a ball.
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regulusrules ¡ 9 months
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A very long meta explaining why the confession scene in Good Omens is the best that has ever been written and performed on screen
First of, the scene begins with two different realisations that makes each of them believe that their dynamic will significantly change (Crowley wanting to confess his love and Aziraphale wanting to break out the news about heaven). This, you can see, creates an unprecedented shift in their energy, makes them super excited (Azi) and super nervous (Crowley) to break the news to one another. And despite the two matters being drastically different, when Aziraphale begins his revelation we don't get the Miscommunication trope where Crowley listens to the offer and passively retreats back his emotions. No. He is steadfast in his resolution, in his love for Aziraphale.
And that right here is king attitude no.1, because even if Aziraphale just threw something so godforsaken on him, he won't allow himself to be cowardly or let go of the one person he loves more than eternity. Crowley still bares his heart, still lets it all out, because he will not lose Aziraphale in his naivete of still believing that Heaven is good and Hell is evil. (I write this with supreme detachment of my own beliefs lol) He tries to make Aziraphale understand that sides didn't do them any good the past 6000 years, that the only solid foundation they ever had was them, and that Crowley would rather have them than have everything.
The way you hear Tennant's voice breaking when he said “And we spent our whole existence pretending that we aren’t”, is the perfect reflection of how Crowley genuinely despairs the time they lost and wouldn't have any more of it. And even with how bare and raw he's feeling with revealing all this, he still goes on. He still tries to tell him and I would like to spend our whole existence together, but struggles and struggles because he's strung wide open. But he keeps trying.
Now you see here a moment of disbelief on Aziraphale's behalf, because he doesn't understand why Crowley would refuse going back to heaven with him when all Aziraphale remembers of Angel!Crowley was how utterly bright his eyes shone when he lit up the stars and surely Crowley must miss that too? He wants the same thing Crowley is saying, just in a different dimension. The “I can make a difference” immediately changes to “We can make a difference” because that's all what’s ever been for Aziraphale; them changing the small engines of the world according to their partnered will. He is genuinely benign and not ill-intentioned when he says “Nothing lasts forever”, because he truly wants a better life for them, a better existence. And that's when it gets better: Crowley has his walls back up, he's walking away, because he can't bear that he was never enough as he is for Aziraphale. That he was never worth reciprocation.
But Aziraphale doesn't let him leave.
And that is king attitude no.2, because he doesn't want Crowley to leave when things are strewn all over the place that they don't know where they stand. All Aziraphale ever wanted was for them to stand on the same ground. He asks him to come back to him but hides it by finishing it with “to heaven!” because the whole conversation is going too fast for him, and he's undergoing a religious crisis of sorts that does not end in 6000 years, yet even so he still doesn't want to lose Crowley because he's everything he has and he can't do it without him and “I — I need you!”
And that's when it gets reaaally interesting. Aziraphale's expression then turns from sorrowful desperation to rageful desperation, because he's baring his heart and Crowley is walking away from him. Their solid ground is completely shaken when he says “I don't think you understand what I'm offering you” because he's trying to be subtle about his love for Crowley and still direct as much as he can, but Crowley responds with a condescending “I think I understand a whole lot better than you do” and if this isn't peak human beings in their arguments, I don't know what is. Because we all think we are so misunderstood every time we get into an argument with someone we love, and we absolutely despise it when we feel patronized, so it's no wonder Aziraphale bitterly says “Then there's nothing more to say”, because if Crowley understands, truly does, then he'd see right past his fear to how much he loves the ground Crowley walks over.
And on the other hand I don't believe Crowley truly meant to be patronizing, but in a desperate last attempt he wanted to make Aziraphale understand what he is trying to say, what he spent his entire eternity feeling for Aziraphale, what Aziraphale would be giving up if he goes to heaven. What their life sounds like with no nightingales.
“You idiot, we could've been.. us” is the very culmination of love confessions. It took every single emotion and equated it. Tennant's delivery of it was unsurpassed in the way that it truly covers everything. And the way he grabbed Aziraphale, not entirely lovingly but desperately and angrily and, honest to God, awfully, is the reason why their kiss is so perfect. No queerbaiting, no beating around bushes. It is raw and sad and giving and agonising. Crowley wants to say see what you're giving up? See what we can have? And all Aziraphale thinks is how could you lay this on me now after everything, after every chance we could've been something, after me loving you from the first time I've met you. He's angry towards himself too, because nothing he can offer Crowley will be good enough that he chooses him instead of his choices. Sheen's choice in making his character grab Crowley's shoulder and let it go and then grab it once more in desperation is so unexplainably perfect of how much Aziraphale wants to hold onto Crowley.
But in the back of his mind, Crowley isn't choosing the same. Instead, Crowley's choosing to run from something that no doubt will rebound in their faces. They are angels and demons of heaven and hell, how could Crowley expect they could run and hide without being a repercussion later on? At least what Aziraphale is suggesting ensures that they will have a high position of power, enough to make them together, enough to make them happy, but instead, Crowley is walking away.
And when Crowley lets go of him, not the other way around because of course it is Crowley who must let go and detach from the utter pain that pierced his heart, you can see his expression being one of defeated longing. He sees all expressions passing across Aziraphale, sees how torn apart the other man is, too, and awaits just a semblance of anything they could work with. But instead, Aziraphale's face closes, and he tells Crowley “I forgive you”, and Crowley thinks this must be his second falling, because he's never felt more pain. “Don’t bother”, he says, yet still waits for Aziraphale outside and doesn't leave until Aziraphale has left him. Because in the end, Crowley would always be there for Aziraphale, even if he doesn’t feel worthy of it.
And that, my beloveds, is why eternity will remember this scene.
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stevesbipanic ¡ 1 year
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Eddie sometimes went quiet.
Wayne noticed it after Eddie moved in. He didn't do it as much when he was little and Mary would bring him round, but here he was at ten years old completely silent. When Eddie was little Wayne assumed the boy was just shy, but now that he lived with Eddie he knew that sometimes a whole week would pass with not a peep from the young boy. M
The doctor said it might be a trauma response, might just be something he would do from time to time, either way, Eddie Munson, one of the loudest and dramatic kids Wayne had ever met would still be him, just nonverbal. They worked with a notebook but sometimes Eddie would get frustrated he wasn't being answered fast enough and they were running out of paper.
It was Wayne's buddy from work that presented a solution. "Have you tried sign language? My son was born deaf and Susan and I went to night classes so we could talk to the kid." So that's exactly what Wayne did, he moved his shifts to the day and spent his nights at the school learning to talk to his boy. On his days off he'd show Eddie what he'd learnt and slowly they were able to bridge the gap that the silence presented.
The silent days didn't stop as he grew older, his teachers didn't really understand and sometimes he'd end up in detention with a note saying he was being disrespectful. His friends understood though and enthusiastically asked Eddie to teach them sign language, they'd use it even when Eddie was happily chatting with them, they liked that they shared a 'secret' language from the bullies.
He hadn't had any silent days since Vecna, which Eddie thought was a miracle in itself given the circumstances. However, he woke up a couple months after spring break knowing what kind of day it was going to be. He felt frustrated with himself, he was supposed to be hanging out with Steve and Robin today and was worried with how they'd take it, especially Steve. They'd been dancing around each other's feelings lately and he didn't want to ruin everything before it even started. Resigned he grabbed a notebook and pen and headed to Family Video.
He'd spent ten minutes psyching himself up in the parking lot before heading inside, note written and ready explaining that no it wasn't anything Upside Down related, he just wouldn't be speaking today. The door's bell rings in his ear as he stops suddenly staring at the scene before him. Steve and Robin were, quite rapidly, signing at each other. Steve turns at the bell, smiling at Eddie.
"Eddie!"
Still in a bit of shock, Eddie signs on instinct, "You know sign?"
Steve has the same look of shock now, before his face breaks into an even bigger smile and signs back, "You know sign! You know sign, how, why?"
His hands are faster than his brain as he explains how he goes quiet sometimes, and Wayne and night classes and Hellfire before asking Steve how he and Robin know sign.
Steve looks bashful as he signs back, "Um, after Starcourt my hearing started to go, so Robin, ever the linguist, insisted we learn, which was actually very smart of her. I can still kinda hear but I get by mainly on lip reading."
Things started to make sense now to Eddie, how sometimes Steve seemed to just nod and smile at whatever the kids were saying, or would need things repeated to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why didn't you tell me about going nonverbal? Robbie has days like that too."
"Didn't want you to think I was weird."
"I like that you're weird, I like you, Eds."
Eddie blushes at what he interprets is his sign name from Steve, the letter E and the sign for love combined.
"I like you too, Stevie." Eddie signs, the letter S mixed with the sign for heart.
Eddie may still have his silent days, but now he shares them with Steve, and they can sign the things he's not allowed to say out loud, making sure they both know they're loved.
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tarjapearce ¡ 8 months
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Miguel x reader x punkmiguel?????
PRETTY PLEASE 🥺🥺🥺
Hope this makes it justice 😳 (No proofread at all I warn you.)
art by @bumbleboots_art in Ig
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The Multiverse was still a baby concept for you. All you knew was that in other universes there were exact copies of you, doing any sort of things. A doctor that would surely make your parents proud, a stripper, that would surely cause the opposite effect. It was like Barbie and her own Multiverse.
Miguel had just quirked an eyebrow when you used the metaphor. But in your universe, you were another Spiderwoman, and you had been recruited by none other than Miguel O'Hara. HQ soon turned into a second home for you.
Annoying as you were sometimes, your input had provided him a different perspective, that bit by bit, had made you earn a spot in his personal circle. You adapted well, quick learner and practical.
---
Smoke filled in the place. The pressure levels from the particle accelerator had gone a bit too over the top, a miscalculation from both you and Miguel.
The explosion in the lab had created a rift, a small portal, enough for an unsettling scene stand before you, Miguel, Jessica and Hobie.
Another Miguel had gone through the rift, tearing through the fabric of space and time. But this wasn't your usual grumpy faced, sarcastic ass and perpetually tired with a chronic savior complex Miguel. No. He was just as tall as your groaning in pain boss, same facial structure. Yet he wasn't.
This portal Miguel had his hair ruffled, yet stylish, contrary to the neatly, well combed hair do you were already used by now. This Miguel had piercings in his face. His brow, and lips and ears to be more specific. He wore a leathery black jacket, the "NO FUTURE" caption drawn into it. Scruffy jeans with a studded belt and heavy boots. His fangs were out, he wore them proudly you had noticed.
Your Miguel, the one that was always grumbling about something, just stared back at him with a frown yet wide eyes. It was as if this Miguel had hung around too much Hobie, which just stared at him with a lazy approval smile.
A punk Miguel. They were face to face, seizing eachother with scrutinizing gazes. A typical 'opposite twins'. What archetype would each one be? Your Miguel would surely be the responsible and well behaved twin that would rarely to never break the rules. Describing the other would be to only make it out even more obvious.
The punk Miguel smirked at him.
"Puta madre, QuĂŠ viejo me veo." (Holy shit, I look old af)
Miguel frowned immediately as you giggled.
"ÂżWhere am I?" The alternate version of your boss/almost lover spoke as he took in whatever his eyes could Guitar hanging upside-down his back. Just like Hobie's, hand tucked in his jacket.
"Miguel?"
"Hm?"
"SĂ­?"
The both turned to face you once more, speaking at unison.
"We need to send him back, as soon as we can."
"Should we give him a temporary pass?"
"No."
"Puedo oĂ­rte desde acĂĄ , jefazo." (I can hear you from here, Big boss)
Miguel scowled and faced him.
"CĂĄllate." (Shut up)
"ÂżO quĂŠ?" (Or what?)
This Miguel smirked playfully.
"Alright, Alright. Let's calm down." You got in between them, nearly sandwiched between the mass of muscles and clothes to then create a bit of space between them.
"Let's play nice. We gotta figure a way to get him back home."
Punk Miguel wrapped an arm around your neck and spoke
"Gotta listen to her, old man. Don't wanna hang out in a place where you see yourself as the face of oppression. " Hobie saluted him from afar.
Ouch.
"Call me Miggy, Princesa."
Miguel's eye twitched at your stupified state and his words. You smiled at him, excitement sparkling in your eyes.
Trouble. Everything smelled like trouble. Jessica just rolled her eyes.
----
Reluctantly he ended up giving Miggy a temporary pass. Technically he still was Spiderman. His suit had you like a fangirl, marveling over the littlest details. Just like Hobie but darker and meaner.
Miguel would give you tasks, sometimes absurd ones, just to keep you away from himself. Literally.
"What's so funny?" You giggled as you went through the tasks
"Oh, nothing." The not so subtle jealousy from him was endearing to you.
The rest were as fascinated as you were. Miggy and Hobie surely clicked. They would ramble on for hours about their situations and how things were going in their universes. Never in his wildest dreams Hobie would admit that this Miguel was nice to be around.
---
Of course Miggy would scurry within missions whenever something caught his interest. He was more than capable in the battle field, still it was like having an unhinged different version of him. Still to this day it was bizarre to see himself acting like that. Like a total stranger.
Miguel couldn't help but wonder if he had gone through the same in his universe. He had overhead a bit of conversation with Hobie and just mentioned losing someone really important during duty. A requirement that seemed the only demand to join the Spider Club. As Miggy called it.
----
"ÂżNunca te relajas?" (You never catch a break?)
"No."
"ÂżNo is everything you say?" He smirked
"No. Yes."
"Con razĂłn hasta canas tengo." (No wonder why I have white hairs.)
"ÂżPuedes callarte?" (Can you shut up?)
"The only good thing of being you is that we have this princesita here." He gestured over you as you sat down on a further chair.
"Guys, play nice." You mumbled as you entered the room. Miggy smiled your way, hands hoarding you briefly and twirled your body before letting you go.
"There is no we in there."
Miggy shrugged as he eyed you
"Sharing is caring, amigo."
"I'm not your friend. Nor share."
"DĂŠjala elegir entonces. ÂżO el pensamiento libre tambiĂŠn es una amenaza para ti? " (Let her choose then. Or free thinking is also a threat for you? )
You couldn't help to shrink further and further at his words. Your cheeks were impossibly red, your stomach fluttered. Despite the fight, the both complimented eachother so well, like black and white. What one lacked, the other compensated and viceversa.
You gulped as both Miguels set their deep red eyes on you. Expecting. A shiver ran down your spine. The alarm of an anomaly flared up, you had never ran to duty so fast.
1K notes ¡ View notes
theemporium ¡ 1 year
Note
For the marauder’s smut: something with cocky full moon Remus with Sirius and James watching it? 👀
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
You weren’t quite sure how you got into this situation.
The relationship between you and Remus Lupin wasn’t something you ever expected to find yourself in. It was weird, really. You weren’t really friends and you didn’t really cross paths all that much until one party where one thing led to another and you had the boy in your bed the next morning. 
You expected it to stay a one time thing until a routine began to form between the two of you, just a little something to let the steam off. You got closer to Remus during the months, you telling him your secrets and him sharing some of his own. It was the only reason you knew that as the full moon approached, he would get rougher and you fucking loved it.
You revelled in the way he would have his way with you, manhandling you as he pressed you into the mattress as he fucked you from behind. The way his hands would bruise your hips, the way your ass would sting from his sharp smacks, the way your head would spin with orgasm after orgasm as the boy made it very clear you were his.
You knew everything was heightened when the full moon came around, and his jealousy was no different. You were exclusive fuck buddies and nothing more, but that didn’t stop Remus from practically growling at anyone who stared at you for too long. There was no talking sense into Remus when he was in one of his moods, it was something you realised pretty quickly. 
And it was one of those moods that had led to this scene right now, Remus leaning back on his headboard as you bounced up and down on his cock, two sets of eyes watching every fuckin movement. 
“Now now, love, don’t get shy now. I thought you wanted to show the boys how good you were for me.”
You let out a pathetic whine, your back pressed against his chest as your thighs burned. It was too much. Far too much for you to deal with. The feeling of him deep inside you, the watchful and heated gazes of his two best friends, the way your body was begging to come. It was all too much.
“Remus,” you choked out, his hands gripping your waist as he lifted you before sinking you back down on his cock. “Please.”
“Please what?” he grunted, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. “You wanna come? You wanna show Prongs and Pads what a good fucking girl you are and come on my cock?”
You nodded, the words trapped in your throat.
“Put the poor girl out of her misery,” James' voice was rough, his hand resting on the bulge in his slacks. 
“Let the dumb slut come,” Sirius chimed in, leaning back on his bed as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust.
“You hear that, baby,” Remus growled in your ear, the gruff and husky voice enough to make your walls clench around his cock. “They wanna see what your pretty face looks like when you come.”
“Please, please, please,” you chanted breathlessly, your head falling back against his shoulder as his hand smacked against your thigh.
“Gonna make you come, baby,” he groaned, his teeth scraping against the skin of your neck. “Then I’m gonna make you clean up the mess you made, show the boys what a pretty lil’ whore you look like with my cock in your mouth, hm? How do you like the sound of that?”
You could only moan in response, nails digging into his arms as he rammed into you.
.
2K notes ¡ View notes
bluessmutifyplaylist ¡ 4 months
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You wanted the yandere sebek request for your smut blog and ill shall deliver.
Go feral to with this picture to bestie do what you want 😊.
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I’m just a small town girl… Living in my delulu world~
Warnings: AFAB Reader that goes by she/her pronouns, oral (reader receiving), breeding(?), creampie, future family mentioned, dom!Sebek, CONSENSUAL (reader’s a bit delulu), Sebek loves you more than Malleus
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Sebek Zigvolt
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As much as he loathed to admit it, he needed you. He had grown to need you more than he needed the validation from Malleus. You had become his whole world, and you had no idea what that meant for you. He breathed for you.
It started off simple enough. He would leave sweet poems at your door or on your desk. As Eliza Hamilton once said, he built you palaces and cathedrals out of paragraphs. However, he never signed it with anything that told his identity to you. Instead, he signed it as ‘Your Secret Admirer’. It drove you crazy, but you drove him crazy. It was only fair that he should have the same effect on you that you did him. 
But, with each poem, its contents got darker and darker. It got more obsessive. Despite this, you didn’t find yourself scared. You found yourself wanting to meet this person, wanting to hold them in your arms as you assured them that they were yours as you were theirs. You hadn’t even met them, but your heart fluttered upon the thought of someone being so dedicated to you.
Maybe you’ve read too many dark romance books, but your heart is no longer with you. It belonged to your secret admirer.
With each passing day, you tried to make guesses as to who leaves the poems everywhere where only you would be able to find them. It couldn’t be Ace or Deuce. As much as you loved them as friends, they couldn’t write a poem if it meant saving their own lives. You ruled out Epel and Jack as well, as they were often too busy.
This left one man, and you have caught him staring at you a few times. Sebek Zigvolt. He called you ‘human’ every single time he wanted to address you, but you couldn’t help but want your secret admirer to be him. You wanted him to be your knight in shining armor, but with a not-so-shining obsession over you.
Everything changed when you got another letter. However, it was not from your not-so-secret secret admirer. It was from a student in your potionology class who had taken interest in you. You had not informed anyone of your admirer, but you knew that he probably already knew about this. After all, the seal had been broken.
You were going to meet up with the student, so accept his confession. Before you were able to exit the classroom, you felt yourself being tugged back by your bag. You turned to see a rather angry Sebek, and you let out a gasp.
“Don’t go with that impudent boy,” He said, venom laced in his voice. “He does not deserve you.”
“Says who?” 
“Says me, Your Secret Admirer. I wanted to remain secret, but it seems as though you truly wanted me to reveal myself. You truly wanted me to make you know that you are mine.”
“Oh, but I know already,” You dropped your bag and turned your body fully to him, letting you know that you weren’t scared. “I am yours, as you are mine.”
Cupping your face in his hands, he looked down at you with a still-angry look on his face. 
“Then why are you insistent upon meeting up with this man?”
“Because I needed to be sure that you were my secret admirer. If you loved me, you would have swooped in and saved me from being with a man I didn’t love. While I put myself in that position, I knew you would be my knight in shining armor.”
With a flushed face, he asked, “Does this mean you accept my affections and my obsessive desire to court you?”
“I do.”
~~~~~~~~
Slipping the ring onto your finger, he dipped you down into a kiss at the altar. Applause erupted from thousands of people, happy to see one of the highest generals in the Briar Valley military be wed to the love of his life. If only they knew the darker happenings behind the scenes. If only they knew how truly obsessed with you he was. If only they knew the amount of deaths were on his hands because of you.
You knew, but that did not stop you from running into his arms time and time again. That did not stop you from courting him, accepting his proposal, planning your wedding, and marrying him. He was your captor, but you had no issue with that. It could be that you needed professional help, but you couldn’t help but give him your heart and your body.
That night, as he princess-carried you over the door’s threshold of your new home, all bets of decency were off. He was the reason why there was a tradition of why the groom cannot see the bride before the wedding: he would have tore off your wedding dress and claimed you in the room you were getting ready in.
Fortunately for yourself and your guests, he was refrained from doing so by order of Malleus Draconia.
Once you reached what you both deemed your bedroom, he put you down and immediately started kissing you with a passion you had never seen him with before. Who needed air in their lungs anyway? You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, letting him hold up your weight after running out of breath.
“From now on, you are to depend on me and only me, do you hear? Just like you are now depending on me to keep you upright. I will be your provider, as well as the provider for our family,” He pulled away, and you smiled at what he said.
“Family?” You asked.
“If that is what my wife also desires,” He smiled back, waiting for your response.
A few moments passed between the two of you as you thought about it. Then, you nodded.
“Let me properly step out of the dress, though. I want it to be able to be worn by our daughter or daughter-in-law.” With that, he reluctantly zipped down the dress gently, leaving you in a lingerie set that you wore underneath. 
You looked ravishing.
He picked you up once again, helping you out of the dress and laying you on the edge of the bed. At the end of the night, you realized that was the only gentle thing that your husband did for you, aside from the aftercare.
Kissing you once again, he made quick work of your bra and started kissing your neck. Moaning, you moved your head to the side to allow him easier access. He actually bit your neck, his fangs leaving their mark, making you hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure. He eventually let go, trailing his kisses further and further down.
Your husband was obsessed with everything about you, and he wanted to make sure that you knew that. He worshiped every part of you, even more so than Malleus. He praised the ground you walked upon. 
It didn’t take him a while to tear off your panties, but you didn’t feel exposed. Instead, you felt as though it were an intimate moment. Sure, you both weren’t virgins, as there were times where temptations got the better of you. However, you always had protection. This time, you didn’t.
He started to go down on you, devouring your pussy like it was his first meal in years. He also started taking off his tuxedo. Once his shoulders were bare, he hiked your legs onto them. Your hips were raised off of the bed as he stood up, and he was relentless with his tongue, which made you have your first orgasm of the night. He then took the chance to take his pants and boxers.
Every time you saw it, his size always managed to surprise you. However, it was hard to be anything but euphoric as he physically removed himself from your core. You could tell that it pained him, but to finally see him with his juices on your face and licking his lips almost made you cum alone.
“Are you ready, darling?” He asked, starting to position his cock against your soaked pussy, a combination of your juices and his saliva acting as lube.
“Please, Seb,” You begged, and your eyes rolled back as he sheathed himself fully inside of you. He leaned forward, making your thighs press against your chest. Pressing another kiss on your lips, he pulled his dick all the way out before entering once again.
You were so warm, and inside of you, he felt like he was home. You were now officially his, and that ring on your finger proved it. He could feel the ring on his scalp as you grasped his hair to pull him into another kiss.
Pulling away to get some air, the look in your eyes was sincere. In fact, there were tears falling.
“I love you, Sebek Zigvolt,” You uttered between moans, letting your second orgasm wash over you.
The words surprised him, despite them being in your vows just a few hours ago. It felt different, with his dick inside of his wife… his wife. He knew you meant those words, even as your face contorted in pleasure. 
His thrusts quickened their pace, not losing the rhythm established, until thick, hot ropes of cum were emptied into your awaiting cunt. You both knew that this would not be the last time this night, and that it was merely the introduction of a passionate time in each other’s embrace.
“I love you, too, Y/N Zigvolt.”
899 notes ¡ View notes
daisybianca ¡ 8 months
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pairing: sebastian vettel x femalereader
summary: it's totally forbidden. he's older and your childhood and eternal crush, but there's more to that. his best friend--and your dad--is Michael Schumacher. one day, you're sick and stuck in your bed with a fever. he pays you a visit, and then the fever becomes even more brutal. PART TWO. Here's part 1.
warnings: smut, female pleasuring, cursing words
(a/n): here's part 2 because you seemed to love the first one! <333
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"I SUPPOSE YOU'LL HAVE TO BEG FOR IT."
Seb's face morphed into a full grin as he exclaimed the words.
Beg for it.
You felt your cheeks growing even hotter--if that was even possible with a fever and him in a room with you. Completely alone.
You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him. His hands were still on your thighs, and you did everything you could to ignore them.
"So, you don't want to kiss me." You said, more like announcing it yourself.
You knew he probably wanted to kiss you, but you teased him anyway, just like he teased you all those years.
You turned your head to face the wall next to you, not looking at the German man in front of you because you'd be willing to participate in every activity he would suggest, including begging for it.
"I want to kiss you, babe." He whispered, and you soon felt his hot breath brush against the flesh of your thigh. "But I don't intend to make it that easy, as I said before. I am a man of my word."
Damn him and his beautiful eyes.
You couldn’t resist that.
His hand found your back, and he started removing your shorts. "Is that okay?"
Those puppy eyes...
"Yes." You replied and fully removed your shorts. "But if you think I'm actually going to beg for your dick, you will be very disappointed."
His lips twitched as he brought his palms up to your thighs. They trembled under his touch, and you clenched them to hide the shiver.
One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Who said anything about my dick?"
"Then what exactly do you expect me to beg you for--"
His fingers gripped the edges of her underwear and pulled it down at once.
Seb took his time, turning the removal of your clothes into a long and drawn-out event.
You could barely stand his soft touches and his sly glances.
"I don't like this game." You stated, sighing. You were getting more and more impatient with each passing second, and you were just getting started.
He removed your shirt and spread your thighs even more. "I'm sure I can change your mind soon enough."
You froze as he pressed his palm to your breast and pushed back, pulling you to his face.
Oh, my God.
A scene like that could bring any woman to orgasm all by itself, you thought to yourself.
With the way your lower body was throbbing, it wouldn't take much to make you come. Especially with the way those gorgeous, blue eyes were looking at you and the way his hair unwittingly caressed you body.
Your whole body was buzzing as his tongue touched your soft spot, teasing you shameless. You arched your back in response, and your thighs almost mechanically squeezed his head between them.
Seb's laughter made your clit vibrate. His fingers tightened the quilt as he destroyed your ability to think of anything but his tongue diving into you in shameless movements.
Yep, that was the word to describe this very moment.
Shameless.
What whould papa say if he knew his childhood best friend fucked his beloved daughter with his tongue at her apartment, while thinking she was very sick and could barely walk.
I'm sure I will indeed be able to barely walk after this kind of beautiful torture, you thought.
The mere thought of your father finding out made you shiver, but Seb almost immediately sensed the tension and drove his miraculous tongue deeper into you.
You were sure as hell you had never been so turned on in your brief life.
Everything about him was sensual, from the way his nails dug into your thighs as he licked heryou, to the way he looked at you when a moan escaped.
It was all gone when suddenly you felt a finger sink into you."Oh, fuck!"
"Language, babe." He said, leaving your spot for a few moments.
His lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking the spot there.
He deliberately stopped every time you neared climax.
You cursed him in the same sentence that you praised him.
You almost broke down and begged him to let you finish what he had started, but you managed not to.
If he expected you to break, he would be very surprised.
As if he didn't know how stubborn you were.
"It's a simple word." He chuckled and stepped away from Seb for a few moments. "Say it."
Your clit ached, begging for the mercy that he would not give you.
You grabbed the sheets tight. "No."
With a word from you, you could win the keys to heaven itself.
"Why are you so stubborn?" Again, you heard Seb's voice.
"Because I'm my father's daughter." You barely managed to blur out.
You couldn't stand it any longer. Your hair was a torrent of messy curls and it was flowing haphazardly around you.
It was just a word.
An innocent, little word.
"Please." Your cheeks were wet with the tears you didn't know had fallen.
His laughter sent another wave of arousal through you.
Fuck.
You groaned as he inserted a second finger inside you, twisting both so that they slid over your G-spot.
The way he sucked yout clit combined with the torture of his fingers pushed you to the edge.
Your body shook uncontrollably as he continued to control you with his tongue.
He played with yout body like his favorite toy, pulling your orgasm as far as possible.
Your voice was hoarse as you cried out his name, and he not only liked that.
It drove him crazy.
He would hear that dreamy, soft little voice pronounce his name even in his sleep and dreams and nightmares.
"Seb..." You moaned.
His fingers gripped you as he pulled you forward, pushing his tongue deeper into you. You caressed his hair as he made you chase your second orgasm. "Fuck..."
He abandoned your clit and pulled you into his arms.
You muffled your cries as his mouth clamped over your, drawing another shuddering breath from you.
He was kissing you.
You closed your eyes and leaned your head forward, and felt his soft lips against yours.
You stopped to face him for a while, immediately missing his lips on yours. "Seb?"
"Yes, love?"
"How do I taste like?"
A laughter escaped, and you couldn't help but smile as well. "You taste like mine."
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kotias ¡ 1 month
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Ineffable Rockstars
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Time to properly become creatively feral about the Ineffable Rockstars project with @vavoom-sorted-art, @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist , @daneecastle, @moonyinpisces and Stitcherydoo!
Summary of the story: human!AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are rockstars in their respective groups, Celestial Harmonies and Hell's Rebuke. Word is out that those two groups have bad history together, and therefore the two of them, while shamelessly talking to each other any festival they get to meet at, do have to be careful about being seen together by their own bands.
Summary of this excerpt: Aziraphale explains the story of the two bands to Crowley, who has arrived after everything went down and was kept in the dark by his mates.
Lyrics: written for the purpose of this fic.
Word count of the excerpt: 872 words
Excerpt:
Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, whose eyes laid probably a second too long on those long fingers, on this chest showing so proudly from behind his open shirt- He coughed and drank a large gulp from the flute, clutching at the glass like a lifeline.
“It’s- it’s alright. Are you feeling comfortable? How was the concert?”
“Hah, acting like I didn’t see you in the audience, are ya?” Crowley asked with a smirk, and Aziraphale looked away, feeling the heat building up on his face.
“Well, we do need to keep it silent, don’t we?” he answered nonetheless with a coy smile, sipping on his drink.
“Why, though? It’s completely beyond me; Bee recruited me right after the split between Celestial Harmonies and Hell’s Rebuke, but there’s always been… you know, a feeling that it didn’t happen for no reason.”
“They haven’t explained it to you?” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale sighed. “No wonder you’re lost. Well, to put it simply… Hell’s Rebuke’s members were part of Celestial Harmonies, a few years ago.”
“Yes, I know that-”
“Let me talk, please; I would like to make sure we work with the same information.”
As he began explaining the official history of the two bands, he was cut by a thunder of clapping as the concert was coming to an end, and he and his counterpart felt compelled to stand up and join the applause.
When you reached Summer,
You lost sight of the star lights,
Questions died in your throat,
Cursing a future that is naught
And the night falling upon you
Left you laying awake with open eyes.
After two encore songs and enough clapping to make their hands and wrists sore, Crowley and Aziraphale walked towards another scene and stayed in relative distance, ensuring that they would hear each other. “So, you were saying, Hell’s Rebuke and Celestial Harmonies.”
“Ah! Yes; so, this is fairly public knowledge.” Crowley nodded impatiently. “At least, it is not something that we are actively hiding, neither of the two groups; somebody who knows how to Google us would be able to find this information.” Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms. “Honestly, that is why it concerns me a little that you have not been informed of this; it is a fairly common question that people are trying out on us, asking about the other group to see how we react. Anyways-”
The vendors just a few metres from them had started cooking a few crepes, and Crowley did not miss the eyes darting towards them. “Want some? C’me on, it’s my treat,” he insisted as Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised -and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to refuse such an offer.
“Well, if you insist,” he answered, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyelashes fluttering; Crowley’s heart missed a beat, his fingers pressed against his flute, and he barely managed to keep a groan from reaching out of his mouth.
“You do have to tell me more, though; ‘specially if you think my ignorance could bite me in the ass.”
“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped as they reached the line, keeping it to the level of a private conversation. “Bee and Gabriel were… an item.”
“Oh, excellent start. If that’s only the beginning, I might have to stock up on popcorn with that crepe of yours.”
“Heh, well, it might be one of the more interesting aspects of this entire story, so do not keep your expectations too high.”
“No, no, don't kill my hopes, now. Go on, tell me everything, I’m sure it will be full of riveting details, Bee’s never been good at keeping things tidy anyways.”
Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, you should see Gabriel when he gets involved… Ah- one crepe with sugar, thank you,” he said with a bright smile to the vendor. “Alright, so- long story short, the band was originally founded by the two of them; excellent musicians those two are, and the band did have quite the promising future before it. We started having a fairly good reputation.”
“Black coffee and a serving of fries. The name’s been around for a while now, that’s right- I remember seeing it ten years ago on some festival announcements in my city. Cash, thanks.”
“We have, yes. We were very local for a long while, but…”
“What changed?”
“Gabriel and the others were wishing to go professional; Bee and who are now Hell’s Rebuke were not willing to do that.”
“Ah, I see. Well, they didn't change much in that aspect,” Crowley mumbled sourly, extending his arms to grab the crepe and coffee. He gave the dessert over, then took his serving of fries, and they left the vendor’s stand. “Wait, where did you stand? You stayed with Celestial Harmonies, after all.”
“Hm, well…”
That did not sound like somebody who was fully happy to have stayed, Crowley thought, and he crept closer to Aziraphale, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, spill the beans! Honestly, I’m looking to go in that direction, if there’s anything I should be aware of…”
“Being professional was, and still is, something that I hold dear,” Aziraphale explained, his slow speech feeling heavy, like he was choosing every word carefully.
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scar-crossedlvrs ¡ 10 months
Note
All hail ID! Leon!!! I’m wondering how he would reacts when his Reader! young gf got kidnapped or been taken as hostage. Let’s just say maybe she got at the wrong place wrong time? Chris and Leon partnered up to save her 🫢 (I don’t want Leon go thru this alone, he got enough shit already tbh)
(I don’t know if you’re gonna write this up or not but whatever it is, stay safe and take care of yourself gorl 🩵)
Leon S Kennedy - Help Me
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ID!Leon is my favorite Leon no questions about it. I have this headcanon that ID!Leon is the one with the most confidence in his skills & second most optimistic Leon era just due to his successes ( saving ashley and the ‘dozens of successful missions’ that shen mei references ). Anyway, watch me rip that all away in one fell swoop.
cw for : f!reader, kidnapping, swearing, blood mention, implied age gap (up to you tbh), reckless driving, chris redfield, it’s mostly just a mess of angst and anger.
gentle reminder that all of my works sfw or not are intended for 18+ audiences.
The inbox is open for requests.
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How many times had he told you to lock the goddamned doors?
Fingers drum against the steering wheel as he weaves in and out of traffic. His phone trilled in his ear as he drove and the longer it rang, the more his gut bubbled with anxiety.
“Pick up the fucking phone Redfield.”
The scene was still vivid in his mind. Your front door slightly ajar as he pulled up to your house. Leon had immediately been put on edge by this. The overwhelming feeling of panic however, didn’t set in until he noticed the bright red smear across the white painted wood.
Inside the house wasn’t much better, turned over from top to bottom. Every single one of your meticulously placed photos and knickknacks were strewn smashed on the floor, broken glass, plastic and porcelain everywhere. All decorated with a spattering of red. The same scene played out in each and every one of the rooms. It didn't seem to be a run of the mill robbery though. Nothing of value was missing, nothing besides you.
The worst part was the way your phone went to voicemail every single time he called.
“Hello?”
Leon’s torn from his thoughts at the sound of the voice on the other end of the phone. Chris Redfield.
“Answer the phone any slower?” he’s snappy, frustrated, scared.
It must have been obvious, with the way the concern laced into Chris’s words. “Leon? Is something wrong?”
“She’s gone, Chris. The house is a mess and her phone just goes straight to voicemail. Someone was there, and I think they took her.”
The word vomit just spews from his lips as he switches lanes again, white-knuckling the steering wheel as icy eyes dart around. He’s not sure where he’s going, what he’s looking for. He’s not sure of anything anymore.
Had he gotten too cocky, too lax in his security? Everything had been going so well since Ashley. He had been saving people. What the fuck went wrong? Fuck, he should have pressed the issue harder when he asked you to move in with him. At least there he could have kept a better eye on you, kept you safe. This wouldn’t have happened.
Leon was spiraling.
“Are you still with me, Kennedy?” Chris’s voice broke through the haze again.
"Yeah." Barely.
"You sure she was at home? She's probably just not answering your calls."
Chris didn't know you, didn't know that you didn't just ignore phone calls, especially not his calls. You weren't just ignoring him.
"I wouldn't have called you if I thought she was just ignoring my calls. The place was torn up Redfield. Whoever it was, was looking for something. There was blood fucking everywhere." His words came out more aggressive than intended.
They had to, he needed to get his point across.
“Okay, yeah that’s bad. But I can’t just get clearance to do anything..”
“I’m not asking you to deploy the BSAA. I’m asking you to help me” Leon cut him off.
The silence that hangs makes him regret calling Chris. Had he made a call to the wrong Redfield? He should have just called Claire. She wouldn’t have hesitated so much, wouldn’t have wasted so much time. That was if she even picked up the phone.
Either way, for once, he couldn’t do this on his own. Not like this.
"Go home. I'll meet you there. We'll figure this out okay? Don't do anything stupid Leon."
"Yeah."
---
Your head is aching, forehead damp with sweat or blood ( you're not sure which ), feet sore and bloodied from stumbling through the shattered glass on your living room floor. Eyes are covered with a thick blindfold, and the room is dark and quiet.
All alone with your thoughts. Thoughts of how you ended up here. How you had been so distracted, unable to notice the men coming in through the unlocked front door. One snatching you up as the other set out to look for something, smashing everything in his path. Your screams fell on deaf ears, feet being dragged through the mess on the floor as you struggled to break free.
Until a sharp pain to the back of the head forced you into unconsciousness.
There's the sound of shuffling, metal clinking, and there's something pressed to your ear. A phone? There's a few moments of trilling rings before a voice answers with a panicked "Hello?"
"Leon?"
Your voice is hoarse from the screaming earlier, and tears sting at your eyes.
"Baby where are you?" You've never heard him sound like this, scared.
"I don't know, Lee. Help me. I don't know where I am. It's dark and I'm scared."
Before he can respond, the phone is pulled from your ear. The scream ripped from your throat as his voice was cut off by the phone being hung up. A sharp laugh caused a shiver to course through you as you struggled against your bindings.
"Think that got his attention, hm princess?"
________________________________________________
uh i don't know where I was going to go with this, meaning cliffhanger!!! one person says they want more & i'll plan out more <3
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sugarcoatedstarkey ¡ 4 months
Text
Tear stained pillow case - p4
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Pairings - Drew Starkey x reader
Summary - Trying to forgive and forget
Warnings - a little angst, handjob. (18+)
A/n - wow wow it’s taken me so long to finish this chapter and honestly I wanted it to keep be angsty and depressing but I’m a sucker for happiness.
Part 3
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Two weeks had gone by since you and Drew decided to move forward, it had been hard for you. Hard to let him back in, hard to trust, hard to let him touch you. But, even though it has been hard, the erratic beat of your heart and goosebumps that littered your silky skin when he was around was enough for you to know to push the negativity to the back of your mind.
You continued to tell yourself to take it slow and let the relationship start back up, you couldn’t jump back into the deep end. He was on board with everything you said, he gave you space when you needed it and he didn’t push you to talk when you didn’t want to.
But that didn’t mean you hadn’t thought about their kiss. Especially today when he was doing an interview just across town. He had called you when he was leaving and straight away he could tell, you were very quiet on the phone he almost couldn’t hear your responses.
“Please babe”
“Drew… you kissed someone else, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy” you sighed over the phone, pacing your bedroom floor.
You had been on the phone for just under 10 minutes. He had a lot of work commitments. You’d seen each other twice, both times had been great, he took you to the park for a picnic and the other time he made you watch rom coms with an abundance of snacks.
“It was just a kiss”
“Just a kiss?”
“Wait.. I didn’t mean it like that”
“Just a kiss? To you it may have been just a kiss… to me you were throwing away 4 years of love and adoration”
Your fingers hit the side button, closing down the call with him. You felt sick, you always felt sick. It had never been like this when he was filming for outerbanks but then he met Odessa and was booked for a role with her, you obviously didn’t care if he had to kiss or act out sex scenes for a movie,
You were so proud of him and you wanted him to have the best career, but the moment people started shipping them together that’s when it started making you feel sick because you could feel it within yourself that he was slipping away.
“y/n”
There was a soft knock on the door, followed by your Mum slinking in. She closed the door behind her and pulled you into a hug, brushing your hair from your face.
She guided you back to the bed and let you cry, tears staining her work blouse.
You didn’t want to keep crying over him, you wanted to forgive him and move on. But every time you looked at his lips the images of Odessa and him flooded you. You felt like you were drowning around him. And that couldn’t be good.
“He loves you dearly”
“Then why did he kiss her?”
“I don’t know baby… but I do know that man would do anything to have you forgive him. Do you want to forgive him?”
“Of course I do… I just don’t know how”
She continued to pat your hair, humming a soft tune before pulling you up right. Grabbing a tissue she wipes under your eyes and begins to pull your hair up into a ponytail.
It brought back memories of when you were a child, warmth surrounds your aching heart.
“Your going to get yourself dresses, your going to go to reach out to Odessa” “wait what” “let me finish”
“You're going to talk to her, ask the questions you need the truth too. You're then going to make the decision, do you stay or do you go”
You hadn’t told Drew that you contacted Odessa, a part of you wanted to make sure he couldn’t reach out to her and tell her to keep her mouth shut, it made you sick to even think that. Drew wasn’t that kind of person, he would have owned up to his mistakes the moment he told you he kissed her.
Surprisingly she had been more than willing to FaceTime you, she called you at around 5pm. Your fingers shook as you pressed the answer call, her face popped up on screen. She was a lot prettier than you, was the first thing you thought, it latched onto the part of your brain that had you feeling self conscious the whole call.
“I’m really sorry y/n, it was such a dumb thing to do on my part” your eyebrows crease together. “I kissed him”
“Oh” she doesn’t say anything for a moment, running a hand down her face and fixing the phone up. “Can you tell me what happened?” You question, you needed the full story. “Of course”.
Odessa admitted to falling for Drew, she said she had no intentions of doing so. That her and her girlfriend had broken up and he was there for her during the filming of hell raiser. She told you how she knew it was wrong and constantly fought with herself when she was around him, telling herself he was in a relationship. But it didn’t stop her from kissing him one night, the two of them left an event and were standing in the hotel hallway. He wanted to make sure she went inside before he went to his, she took his loitering around for something else and grabbed him by the shirt, the kiss lasted maybe 15 seconds.
She said he hadn’t kissed her back at first but then he did just before pulling away and leaving her in the hallway without a word.
She said he wasn’t their in the morning and she knew she fucked the friendship because he stopped answering her calls.
“And then I found out the two of you broke up and I wanted to reach out and say it was my fault but who wants to hear from the slutty friend”.
“Nothing else happened?”
“Nothing else, he left and I haven’t seen him since”
“Okay”
It’s silent for a few moments, you can feel her staring at you. “I’m really sorry y/n”.
You nod your head and stop the call, you didn’t owe her a thank you or a goodbye. You got what you needed.
You drove yourself over to your old apartment, bags packed. If you were going to give this another shot you needed to go back home, you couldn’t keep putting off seeing him. How were you meant to push through if you only see him once a week?
Your key is in the lock before you can wimp out, the house is dimly lit and you can hear the shower running. You drop your bags and lock the door behind you, your legs are taking you towards the sound of running water. Slowly strip off your jumper and shirt followed by the rest of your clothes until you're enveloped by the steam, clearing your nostrils.
You tap your knuckles against the bathroom door “it’s me”. His head pokes out of the glass door, you don’t miss the way his eyes widen at your naked body. “Hi”
Stepping into the shower he stares down at you with a smile but he doesn’t touch you, unsure if he is allowed to. So you reach up and press your palms to his chest, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. His hand holds your jaw, you're the one deepening the kiss. He lets you take control, he doesn’t want to push you to do something you weren’t ready for. “Sorry” he mumbles as you're pulling away and looking between the two of you, his cock was hard. Poking you in the stomach, his cheeks flushed pink. You hesitate for a split second before your hand wraps around the base of him, looking up at him through your lashes you catch the role of his eyes.
His cock throbs within your hand, pre cum leaks from his pink tip. Your hand jerks up and down his shaft, emitting moans from Drew, his hips begin to jerk. Your thighs pressed together at the sounds he lets out, you can feel your own arousal leaking down your thigh. His large hands grips the glass door steadying himself, his knees weak under him. “Y/n” he groans, you looking between his face and his cock. His body shudders under the shower, spraying you with warm water. “I’m… oh fuck I’m going to cum” he grunts, your free hand cups his balls this tips him over the edge and his spurting his cum all over his stomach.
He takes deep breaths to calm his erratic heart rate, your small hands push him under the water and help him clean himself up. “What was that for?” He questioned, you shrugged and leaned up to kiss him again. “Paying my debts from the other night”.
He thinks back to the night he helped you get off on his clothes cock, another pink blush creeps onto his cheek. “You didn’t have to but thank you”. You kiss for a bit longer, his hands wander all over your body sending shivers down your spine.
A familiar warmth settles within you and you can’t hide the bin grin in your face. You missed this, you missed him.
Then he’s helping you wash yourself, wrapping a towel around you when you both get out. “Do you need clothes?” “My bags are at the front door”.
He can’t hide the smile that creeps on his lips, he practically runs out of the bedroom and grabs your stuff. He watches you pull things out and put back in their place, he quickly throws on a pair of basketball shorts and watches you change into a shirt and shorts.
“Is that my shirt?” “Yeah” another smile creeps on his lips. You had been wearing one of his shirts everyday since you broke up, it had started to smell more like you than it did him.
He’s sat on the bed watching you until you take a seat next to him. “I spoke to Odessa” tension fills the room but he doesn’t move, eyes still on you waiting for you to speak again. “I asked her to tell me everything” “okay”
He turns slightly and pulls you closer to him, your legs over his. “I’m still not over the fact you kissed her but it does make me feel slightly better that she initiated it and you did stop it after a split moment of hesitation”. He nods, his fingers are drawing circles on your thigh. “I’m so sorry” he breathes. “I shouldn’t have said it was just a kiss, it was a kiss that broke us up and I’m so stupid for saying I couldn’t do it anymore, of course I could. You're the only person I want, actually the only person I need”
“Your the only person I want too”
🏷️ - @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @drewstarkeysleftfoot @cameronmedia @users09 @teresalesbian @outerbankspov @bbycowboi @stuffyownswrld @ietss @tastycakee @maybankslover @loverofdrewstarkey @wpdailyminimeta @willowpains @littlefirefly08 @brooklynscherry-z @imnotapretzelsstuff @ijustwanttoreadlols @its-ria-07 @onedayatatime6 @victory-in-the-llama @brooklynscherry-z @abbyshmaby @lassie-bird @daisylovesrafe @pet1t3 @crazyf0robx @willowalexissss @kys4-20 @xo-hayleyy-xo (I tagged a few people who commented on the last part, lmk if you don’t want me to tag you in the next part)
390 notes ¡ View notes
stairain ¡ 1 year
Text
Only you, darling.
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You tell your professor you want a “real relationship”, it doesn’t bode well at all. 
Part 3 to Bad Idea and Yes, Professor. All three can be read standalone, there's no real plot.
Warnings: Dom Spencer, 10+ year age gap (No defined ages, but reader is over 20, Spencer is under 40), angst, threats of breakup, choking (hand + belt), slapping, crying, brief spanking, dumbification, manipulation, corruption, objectification, degradation.
WC: 2.1K
After the last time you had been with Professor Reid, you’ve been confused about your relationship with him. Maybe it was wrong that he was your professor, and you were his student. Actually, there was no ‘maybe’ about it, it wasn’t good, at all. 
You’re trying to push the guilt away, which is exactly why you’re talking to a random guy you ran into on campus on your way to class. You give him a flirtatious smile as the two of you talk and hang out with each other on a few couches in a common area. 
You don’t notice Spencer watching the two of you though.
You see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, but when you see his eyes glaring at you see that the look on his face is cold as ice. He's not happy about this, at all. But, he seems to be. holding back the instinct to come over and intervene.
He's letting you do this, wanting to see where you’d take this. 
Your heart beat began to pick up and your features turned fearful as you felt his threatening gaze on you. He'll no doubt talk to you about this later, but that’d be the perfect time to talk to him about everything you’ve been pondering for the past few days. The random guy in front of you looks confused, and looks behind him to make sure everything is alright. You sigh and put on a fake smile for the boy.
You reached a hand out to rest against his shoulder as you spoke. 
“Hey, it was great bumping into you, but I’ve got to get home now. I’ll talk to you later..”
You wave goodbye as he walks away, and your smile immediately fades when you see your professor still staring at you with his arms crossed.
Spencer's expression is absolutely cold in these moments, almost like he's not even human anymore. He's barely even blinking, and those eyes.. Those eyes are like lasers, and they're burning into you. It’s like he's trying to look right through you.
He walks up to you, clearly upset, and he's not hiding it at all. He stops right in front of you, his arms crossed almost as if he's standing guard in front of you now. His silence is daring you to talk.
“L-Listen, Sir.. Let’s just talk about this at your place.. Please.”
You silently plead to him, not wanting to make a scene you know he’ll create.
Spencer looks down at you for a moment and deeply sighs.
"Fine." He mutters... "My office." he says, as he turns around and begins to walk away.
"You'd better follow me." he adds, speaking to you  over his shoulder "You've got fifteen minutes..."
He walks away from you, his face still as cold as ever as you take those few precious seconds to yourself, contemplating what is going to happen now.
You take a deep breath and try to calm down your nerves. You loved him so much, and you know even the thought of this conversation would be enough to make him furious. You stand up and quickly start walking to his office where you know he is, not wanting to make him even more mad.
You enter his office, and he's seated behind his desk already. He’s looking at you with those same cold, piercing eyes as before, those same cold eyes that you've become so accustomed to lately.
Those cold eyes that you crave so badly.
"Well... what do you have to say for yourself...?" Spencer finally asks. He looks down at his watch momentarily.  "I'd say you've got 13 minutes left to explain yourself."
You swallow and walk up to the opposite side of his desk, looking down at him. “I-I.. I’m not sorry for talking to him.” 
"Oh, you're not..?" Spencer asks, his tone dripping with venom as he looks up at you. He's absolutely fuming. He stands up and leans over the desk, trying to intimidate you. 
"Let me ask you something then," he says, his voice low and threatening, "How would you feel..if I was flirting with another one of my students... hm?"
You practically stop breathing at his threat, before shaking your head. “I.. I wouldn’t care.” You had so much to say, and yet you couldn’t even get out a full sentence without stuttering.
"You wouldn't care...?" Spencer scoffs and raises a brow, his voice lowering even further. His eyes are growing even more cold and his tone is dripping with venom.
"Really? You wouldn't care? You want to see me with someone else?” He asks, a little bit of a sadistic smile spreading over his face now. "Why is that...?" He challenges you. 
“Maybe if you were with someone else you wouldn’t have to keep them a secret.” You bite back, finally getting to what you’ve been needing to say to him.
Spencer's eyes widened, and for the first time, a look of pain flashes over his face, but it's gone just as soon as it had come. It was quickly replaced once more with cold fury.
"Secret?" Spencer asks, his voice filled with a dangerous edge to it now. 
"You think I want to keep our relationship a secret?" He asks in an angry tone. "What in the hell ever made you think that?" His voice is cold... but it's not without an intensity that is genuinely a little bit terrifying.
You can’t help the shake in your hands at his tone. He was intimidating, and despite your love for him, he scared you more than anything else.
“I-I.. What about me..? Maybe I want to be with someone who I can actually go out with. Ever think of that? Maybe I’m just tired of being a secret.”
Spencer's eyes flash once more and he walks around the desk until he's in front of you now. And in an instant, he's right up in your face, his cold, piercing eyes burning into yours. 
"What did you say...?" Spencer asks, his voice suddenly filled with a vicious, angry energy.
"You would really leave me.. is that what I'm hearing?" He’s in disbelief, rightfully so. And his tone grows even more intense.
Your body and mind shrinks under his gaze and intimidating presence. You really wished you hadn’t said anything. 
“Sir.. I’m just tired of doing this..” You gesture between the two of you, and what little room there was left. “Sneaking around, being yours but not really yours. I want to be with someone who I can be seen with.”
“You want to be with someone else, huh?" Spencer asks, the vicious look in his eyes growing to the look of a predator hunting his prey.
"You want a real relationship.. Is that it?" He asks, glaring down at you.
Your mouth is dry, you had this all planned out in your head, but now that it’s happening, now that he’s repeating your thoughts back to you.. You can’t even speak.
“Go then.” 
His voice dryly commands. There’s no love, no care, no affection anywhere to be found. His words have nothing but malice.
A silence overtakes the entire room as the two of you stare at each other, both awaiting your next actions. 
You’re shaking, and frozen in place like a deer in headlights. Your bottom lip trembles when you attempt to speak, but in snap, his hands are on you. 
His big strong hands are cradling the back of your head and he’s pulling you in for a kiss full of passion and anger. 
You whimper against his aggressive hold on you, but yet you just can’t bring yourself to push him away. Your hands wrap around his forearms and you kiss back with the same intensity that he’s showing you. 
The two of you can barely breathe, with each exhale you were just breathing in each other's air, and it made you lightheaded. You managed to pull him away from you for a moment to catch your breath. And when you look at him he looks absolutely wrecked. Whether it was from the threat of you leaving him, or from the kiss alone, he looked beautiful. 
Spencer roughly grabs you by the waist and pulls your shaking body flush against his. His eyes are locked with yours as he leans in to shove his tongue in your mouth. He’s licking over your teeth, slithering against your own tongue, and throat fucking you with his. 
When he pulls away, he grabs you by your throat and growls against your lips. His tone is mocking and downright disrespectful, as if making fun of you. 
“Can’t believe my little girl would ever even think about leaving me.. You have no one else, angel.. What were you thinking?” 
Your eyes roll into the back of your head when you feel his grip on your throat tighten, cutting off your airflow. You shake your head and try to appease him.
“I-I was- I wasn’t thinking, sir. I’m sorry.. I’m sorry for being so stupid..” 
A sadistic smile twists on his face and he removes the hand from your hair, trading it for using it to slap you quickly across your face. You moan out in pain at the sting, but you knew you deserved it.
“Yeah.. What a stupid little thing.. You’re so lucky you’re pretty, angel.” 
He throws you right over his shoulder, as if you’re nothing more than a doll for him to use whenever he wants. He walks over to the couch in his office and roughly throws you down on it. You yelp in surprise and quickly turn around to see what he’s doing, and you’re met with the glorious sight of him pulling his belt out of the loops of his pants. 
And once he had the long thick strip of leather in his hands, he’s sitting on the couch himself and throwing you over his lap. You’re bent over his thighs and your ass is facing the air. You had conveniently worn a skirt to classes today, which proved to be more than helpful when he immediately flips up the bottom of it and exposes your smooth unmarked skin. 
“So beautiful, it’s like you’re not even real..” 
As far as he’s concerned, you aren’t. You’re nothing but a toy to him. The professor lightly chuckles at his own words, before reaching out and grabbing a handful of the fat of your ass. You jump at the feeling but quickly melt into his touch, moaning out at the contact and the way he roughly grips you. 
Then, Spencer folds the belt around his fist, and brings it down hard against your ass. The impact is sudden, and god is it powerful. You gasp in pain as you’re caught off guard by the first strike, you were given no warning, and it seemed like he was already showing no mercy. 
“F-Fuck.. Sir..” 
His belt comes down hard against your bottom once more, and his cold, piercing eyes stay locked with yours. You bite down on the fabric of his dress pants to stifle your cries, not wanting to be heard by anyone else that was still possibly in the building at this time. You can already feel the heat blossoming on your rear at the hits, and know they’ll be a sickening shade of purple and red by tomorrow. 
The anger from before is nowhere near gone, and it becomes increasingly apparent when the belt is no longer pressed against your ass as he spanks you, but instead it’s now wrapped around your neck as he yanks on it. He pulls it so you’re no longer bent over his lap, but instead sitting upright in his lap, using it like a makeshift leash and collar. 
Spencer tightens the belt around your delicate throat and huffs in rage.
“Try and leave me again, little girl. See what fucking happens.” 
You quickly become lightheaded at his incredibly sadistic actions, and start rapidly tapping on his thigh as a signal that it was getting too much. The belt suddenly loosens around your neck, and you gasp for air as you can finally see the room around you, your vision no longer clouded.
The man scoffs at how pathetic you are, and sighs deeply before grabbing you by your neck with his hand this time, and pressing your back to his chest so he could whisper in your ear. The deep rumble in his voice sends shivers up your spine and arousal down to your cunt. 
“You really think that boy would love you?” He scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“No one loves you as much as I do, babygirl.. You can’t trust anyone else but me, you know that.” 
You nodded as tears began to brim your waterline and freely cascade down your rosy cheeks. His words hurt to hear, but you know he was entirely right. 
“Y-Yes, Sir.. Only you..” 
He had conditioned you at this point, that if you did leave him, you know you’d be completely lost without him. He was your everything, you needed him.  
“That’s right, sweet thing, you’ll never need anyone else..” 
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