I've never written fanfiction before but this man has me down bad. I haven't fully started writing yet but here's a little snippet
~Suggestions are welcome, I'd really apricate it~
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours" Aseop said suggesting to his leg, you chuckled "Honestly. I don't really want to know anymore" but your smile faded. You tried to not think about those years but sometimes you couldn't stop yourself. A calloused hand found its way to yours "It's not healthy to keep quiet, I would know" Aseop trailed off before looking into your eyes "I care about you and I want you to know that I'm here for you". You gave him a small smile before looking away. Tears threatening to fall.
Mark me down as scared and horny
okay but the fic I read used the idea of bucky fucking you with his metal arm nd whatever and like
That sounds really hot
Goodluck Pikachu
its rude to reblog things from people you arent mutuals with fyi. :/
💀 my brother in christopher
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!!
—————-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note.
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
————-
1 month in
You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you.
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
————-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend.
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
————-
3 months in
You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways.
You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it.
Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again.
————
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do.
You should've stayed up the night John left.
————
5 months in
Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut? Fuck it, yes.
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No.
———
6 months in
John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick.
You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that.
———-
7 months in
At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin.
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter.
You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness.
“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do.
“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing.
“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer.
“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh.
“Better?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch.
“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
“Who?”
“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”
“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“He’s perfectly fine.”
“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.”
“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.”
“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.”
“I know.”
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.
————-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room.
“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.
“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.
“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.
“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
“If you’d like.”
“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight.
“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk.
“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.
“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
“Yeah so?” You smile.
“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner.
“Can I do your beard and mustache?”
“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says.
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
“All done.” You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away.
“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated.
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
—————
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.
“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots.
“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
“Would you like to go out for drinks?”
“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.
“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
“Yeah.”
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you.
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.
-
“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs.
“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push.
“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it.
“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door.
“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain.
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect.
“You alright?” He asks.
“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.
“Never been better.”
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car.
“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one.
“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”
“I’ll fall regardless.”
“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.
“What?” You laugh.
“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”
“What if we both fall?”
“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in.
“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true.
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.
“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor.
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
“When I’m out, martinis.”
“Espresso?”
“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again.
“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.
“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.
“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.”
“Your fears are true.”
“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?
“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.
“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?”
“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
“That’s just not right.”
“No?”
“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
“What about you, why no boyfriends?”
“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.
“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.
“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.
“John?”
“Yeah doll.”
“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced.
“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.
“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?”
“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side.
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park.
“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.
“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm
“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air.
“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath.
“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.
He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him.
“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
—————
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)
@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @spyderdoll @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe
happy autism awareness day to all the girls who had “ friends” growing up who were actually bullying them . to the girls who always sat alone in the grass and wondered why nobody wanted to talk . to the girls who spoke to animals like they were listening . to the girls who created a little world in their room . to the girls who always felt ashamed for how deeply they love things and how passionately they enjoyed media . to the girls who covered their ears when they were overwhelmed by everything . to the girls who carrying a special thing around to feel safe . to the girls who never understood what they did wrong to feel so lonely . to the girls who were diagnosed later in life because they weren’t little boys who liked trains. you are so special and beautiful and you’re not worse for it, you love deeply and that is so wonderful please never try to push that down . I LOVE YOU !!!!!
I know I've been neglecting you all I'm sorry Life has just been shit for me at the moment.
But here's a lil something to keep you all going
"Why don't you like the way you look?" Your roommate, Nash, asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "In my eyes, you're perfect just the way you are."
You looked up at Nash, surprised by his question. It wasn't something you had expected him to notice, let alone comment on. For a moment, you considered brushing it off, making some flippant remark about not being able to please everyone. But there was something in Nash's expression, a genuine concern and curiosity, that made you hesitate. "It's not that I don't like the way I look," you admitted, your voice small and uncertain. "I just sometimes wish I was a bit thinner, y'know?" You shrugged as if it was nothing, a fleeting insecurity you weren't entirely comfortable voicing.
He frowned, his brow furrowing as he listened to your words. He couldn't fathom why anyone would want to change such a beautiful, alluring figure. To him, your curves were a work of art, each dip and swell a testament to the natural splendour of your form. "Why would you want to be thinner?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine bewilderment. "To me, your body is a work of art, a masterpiece crafted by the gods themselves. Every dip and swell, every soft curve and rounded plane, it all comes together to create a vision of pure, unadulterated splendour."
He leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Don't ever let anyone make you feel like you need to change who you are," he said softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face.
You felt your heart skip a beat as Nash leaned in closer, his words washing over you like a soothing balm. His touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers brushed against your cheek.
"Nobody makes me feel like I need to change the way I look," you chuckled slightly as you rose from the sofa. "It's just... When I was a child, I watched movies where the prince would scoop the princess up and walk towards the sunset," you explained, heading into the kitchen to retrieve a drink. Nash followed close behind, his large frame somehow fitting effortlessly in the small space. "I just wish I was thinner so I could be picked up like that, y'know. Live out every little girl's dream of being scooped up and carried away."
Nash followed you into the kitchen, his eyes never leaving your form. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he listened to your explanation. At your words, however, his expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing over his features. "Ah, I see," he murmured, nodding slowly. "But you know, those fairy tales are just stories. In real life, love comes in all shapes and sizes."
He stepped closer, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing slow circles over the curve of your waist. "And as for being picked up..." He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "I think we both know that's not a problem for someone of my strength."
Your breath hitched as Nash's hand came to rest on your hip, his touch igniting a fire within you. You could feel the heat of his body, the solid muscle beneath his skin, and it took all of your willpower not to lean into him, to press yourself against his strong form and lose yourself in his embrace. "That's real sweet of you," you half huffed, half laughed, the sound a little breathless. You knew Nash was only saying these things to cheer you up, to distract you from the anxieties that gnawed at you. "But I'm too heavy to be picked up. Always have been."
Nash's eyes darkened with lust at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Without warning, he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them apart. "You underestimate me, little one," he purred, his voice a deep, seductive purr. "I am stronger than I look."
His lips crashed against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you, to possess you. One hand slid up your thigh, pushing aside your clothing to cup your breast, his calloused palm rasping against your sensitive flesh. He tore his mouth away from yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. "Let me show you what this big, strong orc can do."
With a swift tug, Nash ripped your shorts clean off your body, exposing your glistening folds to his hungry gaze. A feral grin spread across his face as he took in the sight of you, splayed out before him like a feast waiting to be devoured. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he growled, his fingers teasing your slick entrance. "So ready for me."
In one fluid motion, he hoisted you up, pinning you against the wall with his powerful body. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his muscular ass as you clung to him. Nash's thick, throbbing cock sprang free as he pulled his sweatpants down, the swollen head already glistening with pre-cum. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside your tight, dripping cunt, stretching you deliciously around his impressive girth.
"Oh, fuck yes," he groaned, his head falling back as your walls clenched around him. "You take me so well, baby. Like you were made for my cock." He began to move, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force, driving into you again and again. The wet sounds of your coupling filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of ecstasy.
Your nails dug into Nash's shoulders as he pounded into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breasts bounced with the force of his movements, the cool air of the kitchen contrasting deliciously with the heat of your skin. "Fuck!" you cried out, your head thrown back against the wall.
He captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of passion as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. His tongue danced with yours, the taste of you mingling with the flavour of his own desire, creating a heady cocktail that left you dizzy with need. One hand reached between your bodies, his skilled fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. The added stimulation sent you hurtling towards the edge, your inner muscles fluttering around his pistoning cock as your climax approached.
"I can feel you tightening," Nash panted against your lips, "Gonna come all over my fat orc cock, aren't you baby?"
"Yes! Yes! Fuck, don't stop!" you moaned wantonly, your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. The coil of tension in your lower belly wound tighter and tighter, your impending orgasm building to a crescendo. Nash's fingers on your clit, combined with the delicious stretch of his massive cock splitting you open, proved to be your undoing. With a keening cry, you shattered in his arms, your release crashing over you in wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy.
"Nash! Oh, gods, Nash!" you sobbed, your vision whiting out as your pussy spasmed almost violently around him.
As your orgasm washed over you, Nash held you close, his strong arms supporting your quivering form as he rode out the waves of your pleasure. He continued to thrust into you, prolonging your high until you were boneless and spent in his embrace. "There's my good girl," he purred, pressing tender kisses to your damp forehead. "Didn't I tell you? Nothing about you is too much for me to handle."
He carried you over to the kitchen table, gently laying you down on the smooth surface. With a wicked grin, he hooked your knees over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half as he loomed over you.
"And we're far from done, sweetheart," he promised, his voice a dark, sensual growl.
Thought of the day:
I'm done with uni, Uni has finished me. I am literally sat here crying about a fucking game
I do fine art
fandom is a hobby, not a form of activism
adult women aren’t inherently creepy for being in fandom and having hobbies apart from raising babies and doing taxes
the vast majority of people pushing back against the worrying trend of instigating harassment over fictional characters and relationships aren’t incest supporters or pedophiles, actually
liking a m/f ship doesn’t make someone a dirty heterosexual invading your space
preferring gay ships doesn’t make you ‘’woke’’ and good
no one owes you a disclaimer that they are a good person who recognizes that their favorite fictional villain’s actions are evil and that they don’t condone those actions irl
liking a fictional villain is in no way comparable to advocating abuse/murder/genocide/etc and you’re a fucking idiot if you believe that
just because a woman is attracted to a fictional villain doesn’t mean she’s promoting toxic relationships or going to end up in a toxic relationship. assuming women can’t tell fiction and reality apart stinks of internalized misogyny
some rando’s a/b/o fanfics have none of the level of influence that popular tv shows and movies spreading propaganda have
no one owes you a detailed description of their traumas and mental health problems
abusive relationships are not the same as enemies to lovers ships
y’all need to chill the fuck out over people, relationships, actions and events that don’t actually exist and learn how to enjoy and discuss them like normal people
fandom is a hobby, not a form of activism
feel free to add more
Price??
my partner is only 40 but nestled within him is the soul of an elderly man
25y/o ~ I just like simping for fictional characters and I love a Greggs
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