“ I was this cool the whole time”

let me start off by saying that i would NEVER expect anyone here to give me money or feel obligated to donate to my cause. i completely understand that times are difficult for a lot of people, and i’ve genuinely appreciated every person who has donated, reblogged, shared, boosted, or even just taken the time to acknowledge what i’m going through. i really do. but what’s been difficult for me is the contrast.

i have nearly 5,200 followers here, and i’ve spent a lot of time writing and creating things for this community simply because i love doing it. i’ll spend hours working on a fic, and i’ll see people like it, reblog it, talk about it, and share it—which is wonderful, and honestly a huge part of why i’ve continued writing. but when i found myself in a situation serious enough that i had to swallow my pride and publicly admit that i may lose my home, making a gofundme was already incredibly embarrassing and vulnerable enough for me.

i wasn't asking everyone to fund my entire situation. i specifically asked for something as small as $1–$10 if someone was able, because i figured that if even a fraction of the people who enjoy what i create were willing to contribute a few dollars, it could make a meaningful difference.

and if someone genuinely couldn't donate, i said repeatedly that a simple reblog, boost, or share would mean something to me too. just helping the campaign reach someone who could help.

what hurt’s is seeing people have plenty of engagement for the fic i posted alongside the campaign—likes, reblogs, comments, people enjoying the entertainment i was providing—while the actual situation i am asking for help with received very little of that same energy.

that's what has made me step back and question whether i even want to continue writing here.

i wanna be clear that it’s not a, “nobody’ gave me money, so i’m leaving.”

it’s more, “i realized how much effort i put into creating things for this space, and when i was genuinely struggling and asked for even the smallest amount of support—or simply for people to help me spread the word—i didn't feel that same community coming back to me.”

i don't think anyone is obligated to save me. i don't think anyone owes me $1. and i’m not angry at people who couldn't contribute. i just wish there had been more acknowledgment of the fact that this wasn't another casual post asking for engagement. this was me admitting that i am scared, embarrassed, and genuinely trying to keep a roof over my head. if i don’t pay these people, i WILL get evicted by next wednesday and have nowhere else to go.

let me start off by saying that i would NEVER expect anyone here to give me money or feel obligated to donate to my cause. i completely understand that times are difficult for a lot of people, and i’ve genuinely appreciated every person who has donated, reblogged, shared, boosted, or even just taken the time to acknowledge what i’m going through. i really do. but what’s been difficult for me is the contrast.

i have nearly 5,200 followers here, and i’ve spent a lot of time writing and creating things for this community simply because i love doing it. i’ll spend hours working on a fic, and i’ll see people like it, reblog it, talk about it, and share it—which is wonderful, and honestly a huge part of why i’ve continued writing. but when i found myself in a situation serious enough that i had to swallow my pride and publicly admit that i may lose my home, making a gofundme was already incredibly embarrassing and vulnerable enough for me.

i wasn't asking everyone to fund my entire situation. i specifically asked for something as small as $1–$10 if someone was able, because i figured that if even a fraction of the people who enjoy what i create were willing to contribute a few dollars, it could make a meaningful difference.

and if someone genuinely couldn't donate, i said repeatedly that a simple reblog, boost, or share would mean something to me too. just helping the campaign reach someone who could help.

what hurt’s is seeing people have plenty of engagement for the fic i posted alongside the campaign—likes, reblogs, comments, people enjoying the entertainment i was providing—while the actual situation i am asking for help with received very little of that same energy.

that's what has made me step back and question whether i even want to continue writing here.

i wanna be clear that it’s not a, “nobody’ gave me money, so i’m leaving.”

it’s more, “i realized how much effort i put into creating things for this space, and when i was genuinely struggling and asked for even the smallest amount of support—or simply for people to help me spread the word—i didn't feel that same community coming back to me.”

i don't think anyone is obligated to save me. i don't think anyone owes me $1. and i’m not angry at people who couldn't contribute. i just wish there had been more acknowledgment of the fact that this wasn't another casual post asking for engagement. this was me admitting that i am scared, embarrassed, and genuinely trying to keep a roof over my head. if i don’t pay these people, i WILL get evicted by next wednesday and have nowhere else to go.

police officer!toji pulls his wife over for speeding! ♡

꒰cws; rough sex, creampie, fingering, public indecency, handcuffs, established relationship… based on this request ꒱

it’s late, you’re driving home just a little over the speed limit on an empty, quiet street — a route you always take to avoid traffic or other people altogether.

which is precisely why you’re shocked to see a police car following you, sirens beginning to beep and wail, signaling for you to pull over. just wait until they find out who your husband is. they’ll surely forget to write you up after that.

with a frustrated huff, you pull over and park, getting your licence and registration ready in your hand, ready to explain you ‘didn’t mean to go over the speed limit.’ the officer knocks on the window with the back of his hand, encouraging you to roll down the window.

paying little attention, you roll down the window, ready to begin apologising, until you see a familiar torso — muscles you’d know anywhere. toji fushiguro. your husband.

he leans down, smirking at you through your open car window, letting in the cold air. "i thought you finished work an hour ago?" you giggle, leaning in to kiss him. toji backs away, still grinning. "worked a little later, then saw a pretty girl drivin’ over the speed limit."

you roll your eyes playfully, slowly extending your hand to give toji’s meaty biceps a squeeze. god, he just looked too damn good in that uniform. "are y’trying to seduce an officer of the law?" he says, tilting his head, flexing his bicep just to tease you.

"and what if i am? surely that means i’m under arrest…"

toji’s smirk grows as he opens the car door, gesturing for you to step out. "want me to arrest you, baby? dirty girl," he purrs, watching you get out of the car, more like looking at your ass as you get out.

immediately, he grabs you and spins you around, making you gasp. he pulls out a set of handcuffs, clasping them over your wrists after tugging your hands behind your back. he leans in, breath hot against your neck. "bend over."

you bite your lip, teasing your husband by refusing — grinding your ass against him. "refusing orders now?" toji responds, sharp canines grazing the side of your neck that’s visible under the dim streetlights.

with that, toji walks you forward, bending you over the car bonnet with lack of gentleness. he presses his hard cock to your ass, twitching beneath his uniform. he hikes up your skirt with rough hands, exposing your perky ass to the evening breeze. "let’s see how wet these panties are after bein’ pulled over, huh?"

he reaches between your legs, cupping your pussy, slick seeping through your panties onto his palm. "fuckin’ knew it," he chuckles lowly, wishing he could see the way your cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

you begin to squirm as your upper body is limp against the cold steel, hands still completely restrained behind your back. "mnn, can’t move," you whine, yelping as toji delivers a sharp smack to your ass with his other hand. "that’s the point, doll. gotta keep ya’ nice and still while i stuff this pussy full."

your cunt begins to drool more at the thought of your husband’s thick cock stretching you open. you hear toji unbuckle his belt behind you using one hand, the other still teasing your cunt. he shoves two thick fingers into your sopping hole, beginning to thrust them in and out — listening eagerly to the way you moan like no ones listening.

"hnghh, toji—what if someone sees," you say, though not in protest. unbothered as ever, he continues working you open with his fingers, tugging down his pants and boxers until his cock springs free and slaps against your ass. "they won’t, baby. why do y’think i pulled you over on a quiet street."

you whine from the loss of contact as toji withdraws his fingers, wiping the slick you left on them onto his dick, pumping himself a few times in his hand. you gasp as he lines himself up, thick tip prodding at your entrance.

"been waitin’ all day to fuck this pussy," toji says, hissing through his teeth as he pushes in, warm, wet walls sucking him in. you moan breathily, face still squished against the car, beginning to squirm with desperation. "fuuckk— stay still, baby."

wasting no time, toji bottoms out, tip kissing your cervix. he places both hands on your hips, setting a brutal pace right off the bat. you choke on your moans, helpless and restrained as your husband pounds you like he’s genuinely punishing you.

"nghhm, s-so deep-" you struggle, taking your husband’s dick like a champ, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every snap of his hips. "good girl, takin’ me so—hah—well.”

he contradicts his loving praise by delivering another harsh smack to your ass, eyes locked onto the sight of your skin rippling from impact. "almost like y’wanted me to pull you over, huh? bend you over n fill you with my load. greedy fuckin’ girl."

you become dizzy from pleasure, knees buckling from the force of toji’s strokes, creamy rings forming at the base of his dick. "fuck—look at that," he rasps, lewd, wet noises echoing across the empty streets. toji grabs you by your cuffs, yanking your body up until you’re practically standing, still fucking into you.

he holds you there effortlessly, fucking you deeper, lips finding your neck and leaving wet open-mouthed kisses. "pathetic, aren’t you, baby," he purrs, sucking the sensitive skin behind your ear between his lips.

"yesyesyes—mghnn—don’t stop," you pant. toji chuckles, making you whimper as he gives you a series of particularly harsh thrusts, splitting your poor cunt open. "close, huh?" he grunts, "atta girl, cum all over my dick in the middle of the street. thats another order."

your chest heaves, breathing uncontrollable as your body tenses, eyes rolling back as you cum, pussy clenching around your husband’s length. "yeahh, just like that," he encourages — fucking you through every wave of pleasure that crashes over you.

when you’re fully through it, he tightens his hold on you, feeling your body go half-limp from the force of your orgasm. "tired already? that’s too fuckin’ bad. still got plans for this greedy cunt when we get home."

he groans loudly into your ear, thrusts becoming a little sloppier. "haah—gonna fill y’up—make ya’ drive home with my cum leakin’ down these pretty legs.” the thought makes you moan again, head thrown back against toji’s chest.

with a hoarse groan, toji spills his warm, thick load into your pussy, filling you to the brim — refusing to let a single drop go to waste. as soon as he’s done, he tugs your panties back up, "keep em’ shut tight, princess."

he gathers you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he uncuffs you, wrists sore from the restriction. “gonna be okay driving home?" he asks, pulling your skirt back down. "my legs are barely functioning right now. probably not," you respond, still panting lightly, legs visibly shaking.

toji gathers you in his arms after tucking himself away again, locking your car before carrying you bridal style to his car. "guess y’can ride home in a cop car, then." he laughs at the giggle you let out.

"thank you, officer."

masterlist !!

hi babies, just wanted to send a message. i need a little favor from my favorite people. i recently made a gofundme, and i’d really appreciate any support you’re able to give. i understand not everyone is in a position to donate a large amount, and i completely understand that. honestly, i’m not asking anyone to send a lot.

if everyone who sees this could spare just $1-10, those small donations could add up so much faster and help me reach my goal sooner rather than later. sharing, reposting, boosting, sending it to a friend, or even just helping get more eyes on it would mean a lot to me. every little bit of support counts.

i spend a lot of time making fics, stories, and content for y’all because i genuinely love creating and sharing them with you. so if you’ve ever enjoyed something i’ve written, laughed at it, gotten invested in a character, or simply enjoy seeing my work on your timeline, this is one of those times where you can give a little love back! $1. $2. $5. a repost. a share. a boost. anything is better than nothing.

thank you for reading, supporting my work, and continuing to show me love. i love y’all back ! and i might have a new fic something soon, so keep on the lookout—teehee.

gofundme: https://gofund.me/d075de8d5

bridesmaid duty keeps you busy all day, but bf!Ony makes sure the night belongs to him

Eren and Mikasa had decided on a summer wedding, and of course it was beautiful, because after everything the two of them had been through to get here, they weren’t about to half-ass this.

The venue was a stunning garden just outside the city, sun high and bright, string lights strung low between the trees for when it got dark. Everyone had dressed for it, light suits and long silk dresses, half the girls already barefoot in the grass with their heels in one hand and their nth glass of pinot in the other.

You'd been up since six doing bridesmaid duty, so by the time the ceremony started you'd half forgotten your own man was even in the guest list.

Finally, the music changed and you came around the corner on Connie's arm, walking slow the way you'd practiced for weeks, and you found Ony in his seat on instinct. He was already looking at you, of course.

He had his phone in his hand but he wasn't filming, he had intended to but he ended up just looking, gone a little still, plan long forgotten on his lap. When your eyes caught his he just held your gaze and pressed his hand flat over his chest for a second, over his heart and mouthed ow. Like looking at you was an actual injury. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep your face together and walk the rest of the way without laughing.

The reception went without a hitch, mostly thanks to you. You did your six hundred photos and fixed Mikasa's dress every time she stood, and somewhere in the chaos Ony materialized at your side with a plate.

"Eat" he said, holding it out "You've had two glasses of wine and a protein bar since noon"

"I've been busy" you said, but you took the plate.

"I know. That's why I made you a plate" He'd gotten all your favorites off the buffet, no vegetables you'd complain about, extra of everything you liked. You could've jumped in his arms right there.

He stole you for a minute later, when the dancing got going and nobody was watching the wedding party too close, just tugged you by the hand off to the side of the tent where it was darker and quieter and pulled you into him.

"You've been running around all day" he said, reaching up to fix a piece of your hair that had come loose "How you holding up?"

"Tired but happy for my girl" You leaned into his hand "Is it bad I kind of want it to be over so I can take these shoes off?"

"Little bit, yeah" He grinned "Keep that one to yourself" Then he tilted his head, looking at you, and his voice went softer "I know it's Mikasa's day and all, but I gotta be honest with you, I have not been able to take my eyes off this one gorgeous bridesmaid the whole time. Somebody should say something to her, she's really distracting"

"Should they"

"It's a problem" He kissed your forehead and stepped back like he hadn't just said that "Go on, go do your thing"

By the slow songs you were loose and warm and stupidly soft on him, both arms up around his neck, swaying more than dancing.

"You've been staring at me all night" you said.

"Yeah" No shame at all "I have"

"Reason?" you asked, tilting your head back to look at him.

He pulled back just enough to look at you and there was that look from the aisle again "You already know the reason" His hand slid a little lower on your back, and his voice dropped "Had to watch everybody get you all day. Pictures, dancing with Connie, doing your whole bridesmaid thing looking like that" He clicked his tongue, teasing "Been real patient, if you ask me"

"You've been perfect" you murmured.

"I try" You felt him grin against your temple "When we leaving?"

You barely got the hotel door shut before he had you against it.

His mouth was on yours, one hand already dragging the zipper down the back of the dress you'd been trapped in for fourteen hours, and you got his jacket off his shoulders and his tie loose and the whole day of being kept apart came undone between you at once.

"All day" he mumbled into your neck, walking the dress off your shoulders, mouth following it down. He got it to the floor and stepped back to look at you standing there in the lamplight in the lacy little nothing you'd had on underneath the whole time, and his jaw flexed "You had this on under there? At the wedding?" He shook his head slow, thumb dragging along the strap.

You innocently shrugged, getting an exasperated chuckled out of him before his hands were back on you.

He walked you back to the bed and laid you down, and instead of coming up over you he settled lower, hands sliding up your thighs, pushing them open, mouth dragging up the inside of one.

"Been thinking about this since you walked down that aisle" he said, and then he licked a slow flat stripe up through you and your whole back came off the bed.

"Ony—" you gasped, a hand flying to the back of his head.

"Mm-hm" He did it again, slower, savoring it, then closed his mouth over your clit and sucked, and your hand flew to the back of his head. He groaned against you like you were the thing being eaten and it was the best thing he'd had all day, tongue working tight circles, and when your hips tried to buck up he threw a forearm across them and held you down flat and kept going, relentless, wet and loud in the quiet of the night.

"Oh my god, oh my god, don't stop—"

He didn't. He worked two fingers in alongside his mouth, curling them up into that spot while his tongue kept at your clit, and the sounds coming out of you got embarrassing and you didn't care, you were grinding down onto his face and his hand and he was letting you, humming his approval into you, and it built fast and mean and then broke, hard, your thighs clamping around his head while you came on his tongue.

He worked you through it, slowed as you came down, and when he finally lifted his head his mouth and chin were wet and he wiped it with the back of his hand, unbothered, grinning up at you, satisfied with his work.

"That's one" he said.

"Ony, I can't even—" you started, still catching your breath.

"You can, princess" He crawled up your body, kissing as he went, and you could taste yourself when he kissed your mouth. He reached down and dragged the head of him through the mess of you, slow, and pushed just barely in and stopped, watching your face go desperate for him "You ran that whole wedding all day. You telling me you can't take me?"

"That's not the same—"

He pushed all the way in in one slow stroke, and the groan that punched out of him was wrecked, his whole body going tight over you like he had to hold still or embarrass himself right there.

"Fuck...okay" He breathed through it, dropped his mouth to your throat, and started to move, deep and unhurried, grinding into you on every stroke so you felt all of it, every single inch "This what you wanted? Hm?" His voice had lost some of its polish now, coming out rougher "Had you sitting on this all through the reception"

"Ony—right there—"

"Yeah, I know. I got you" He hooked a hand under your knee and pushed it up toward your chest, changing the angle, and the sound you made had him cursing under his breath "There it is. Keep making those sweet sounds, don't stop, lemme hear you"

You did, you couldn't not, and he fell apart a little more with every one of them, his rhythm going less careful and more greedy, his forehead dropping into your neck, his praise going scattered and half-formed as he got closer.

"So good, you feel so—shit, you're gonna make me—" His hand slid down and his thumb found your clit, working it fast and tight in time with his hips "Nah, come on, one more, with me this time, I've been so patient all day, you can give me this right?"

You went over the edge a second before he did, clenching around him, and that dragged him with you, a broken groan against your throat as his hips stuttered and he buried himself deep and stayed, shaking, his arms tight around you like he wasn't willing to let a single inch of space back in.

He didn't move off you after. Just settled his weight careful, face in your neck, pressing lazy kisses there while you both came back down.

"So" he said eventually, muffled, and you felt him smile against your skin "Next one of these we go to. Just so you know" He lifted his head and looked at you, and you finally understood what that look was "It's gonna be ours. You in the dress, me at the end of it" He kissed you, slow "Just letting you know it's coming"