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tearsofcalamity · 2 days

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Boothil has me on a chokeholdI want to fuck him so bad.Maybe install a few softwares, up his sensitivity, play with his mind.. Or maybe a lewd virus.. Make him so horny and needy, his head can literally think of you fucking him so good..Or him accidentally plugging the wrong USB, thinking it's his usual data after rebooting, but it's your USB and it messed with him.. I want to fuck his pretty hole so bad

hi anon this is tasty oml

imagine his sensitivity's been all off, some kinda glitch maybe from an incident during one of his missions. one moment it's been too low, and the next (just like now) it's way, way too high. for every other touch it's just annoying, but every time you've brushed past him today, he's failed to mention his issue with just how aroused he feels himself getting. it's different when it's your touch.

when he finally bucks up and admits that he's been having issues, you're so caring, so much more considerate of his senses (he wishes you wouldn't be - he really just wants you to fuck him dumb every time you so much as graze him) as you set out a few USBs and ask him to wait while you go grab some other tools to fix up his sensors. he asks what they're for, and when you tell him they're various types of sensations compiled into USBs to better test each type of touch, he figures he might as well just get a jumpstart with the testing so he doesn't waste your precious time.

he opts for the USB sitting the furthest away. the fool, he hadn't even asked you what sensation each one was before trying it out. it could've been pain, a ticklish feeling, but no, he got arousal. it was like he was overwhelmed like an animal in heat at once, his eyes shooting open as his cock strained against his trousers painfully. images of you involuntarily flashed through his mind, and he had to fight to keep himself breathing normally, but it was no use...

you get back to find him practically humping the air, strands of black and white hair sticking to his forehead as he pants and moans and begs for your help. you're concerned until you see the USB sticking out of his port and realize at once what he's done, lightly chastising him (horrendous torture for him in this state, surely, to have your breath so gently tickling his ear as he suffers) on not touching your tools without asking you first.

unfortunately, it'd be too risky to go in and fix this via his inner wiring while he's this worked up... it might burn you with how much he's overheating. so the only solution is to fuck his brains out until he's at least semi-conscious enough to cool down. good thing you made sure he'd be able to fuck in any way a normal man could when adding his sensitivity! giving him all the facilities is coming in handy.

poor guy doesn't even have the time or mental faculties to ask why the hell you had an arousal USB among the testers present.

ooooh, maybe use a toy on his cock while you pound into him... it'll give you a nice view of his face while he's being completely overwhelmed, his eye filled with hearts, rolling back as his tongue sticks out from behind those pretty lips of his. a nice, slick onahole should do wonders to cool him down after one, three, five... maybe more orgasms, even as he begs you to stop despite his hips continuing to rut into the gadget. the fun thing about fucking a robot is that he can go a lot more than a human can, and as much as boothill tosses his head from side to side, actual tears beginning to spill, you can also see the drool beginning to fall from his lips, his lolling tongue as he groans your name over and over.

he's got a pseudo-prostate that you make sure to nail with precision every time your strap slides inside of him, the impeccable design of his insides allowing you to slip in and out with ease. you remove the onahole from his weeping cock (another feature that aids the toy and your current activities as a whole), pushing his legs up and folding him in half into a mating press, just to see if he can cum only from his prostate. and cum he does - his voice coming out higher and higher pitched as he wails in both euphoria and humiliation at your treatment of him.

finally, you slow when you realize he has indeed begun to cool. his eyes are rolled back, hair messy and splayed across the table, harsh scratches made by his metal nails into the steel table (somehow). he's not quite unconscious, but he certainly can't form any further words, his breathing heaving with small, scattered moans as he tries to regain himself. his emergency cooling procedure had kicked into high gear at last, aiding you in fixing up his sensitivity.

oh, but perhaps leave that special USB lying around. mark it clearly, and pretend not to notice when boothill digs through your messy desk to find it and plug it back in, acting for all the world that he didn't mean to use that special little one on himself again. he's got too much pride to admit it, after all. oh well, it seems you'll have to help him once more!

#sub boothill #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #sub hsr #boothill smut #hsr smut #katze works n/sfw #n/sfw #katze's secret corner #I got carried away oops #I also want to fuck his pretty hole anon... kindred spirit...

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calcifiedunderland · 2 days

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Part I (here), Part II

Trey Clover vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Jamil Viper x GN! Reader

In which the way to the Prefect’s heart is through their stomach! At least, according to three of NRC’s students…

I got the idea from @recreyomakesdoodles , from this post! Thank you so much, hope you liked it!!💕

Tagging people I think would be interested: @aruis4nosleep , @tinseltina

Warnings: food/eating

Notes: I decided to split this into multiple parts because I never have any restraint while writing and this ended up being long. Enjoy :D

———————————————————♣️🐙🐍

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Azul pushed his glasses up, balancing a stack of takeout boxes emblazoned with the Mostro Lounge logo on them. Cold blue eyes met Trey’s golden irises. Trey cleared his throat, shifting a heavy picnic basket from one hand to the other. “What brings you here, Azul? I thought you’d be busy at Mostro Lounge…”

Azul snorted, “the Prefect knows to expect me today. Clearly, you are the one intruding.” Earlier that week, he overheard you wailing to your friends about your upcoming History of Magic exam. Apparently, this unit was on Atlantica’s magical history - a topic that was, unfortunately, giving you trouble.

Fortunately, Azul was a mer who grew up learning the history by heart. Naturally he offered you assistance in exchange for having you taste-test some dishes. And how could he not help a poor, unfortunate fellow student like yourself?

Besides, if he wanted to bring along some personally cooked meals to Ramshackle, under the claim that you both would be there ‘for hours, so you may as well try some foods (that I made!) for the upcoming Lounge menu (that I run)!’, that was nobody’s business. And certainly not Clover’s business.

Trey crossed his arms, easily holding the heavy picnic basket like it weighed nothing. Azul could smell the buttery pastries and powdered sugar through the closed basket lid where he stood. “Riddle sent me to give the Prefect an invitation to the next Unbirthday Party. I thought I’d give them some treats to… sweeten the deal.” Though Trey had a disarmingly pleasant smile with the pun, his eyes bored into Azul’s.

Azul frowned. “That couldn’t have been more than a simple text. Aren’t they friends with your first years, as well?” He asked, remembering your first year friends that he’d turned into anemones.

Trey adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze, a telltale deflection sign that Azul didn’t miss. “Well, it’s more official coming from the Vice Housewarden.” “And I suppose the baked goods are complimentary?” Azul sniffed disdainfully at the basket, “Surely, the prefect needs more than pastries. A proper meal,” he emphasized.

Trey’s eyes narrowed, “a basket of baked goods is better than whatever deal you’d have for them,” he nodded to the boxes Azul carried. “Everyone loves a good old fashioned pastry. Can’t say the same for seafood.” Azul opened his mouth to retort, when suddenly both of their ringtones went off.

IM SO SORRY AZUL!!!!! I got caught up with something, can I come over tomorrow?? I likely won’t be done until later, the headmage has me doing stuff 😭

TREY!!! Tysm for the invite, you didn’t have to go out of ur way to give it in person!! ill definitely be there at the party! 😄 sry I’m not there atm, Crowley wanted me to do something for him

Trey frowned, reading your text. Azul huffed, shouldering the stack of food boxes, muttering “looks like today was a loss.” Trey sighed, “well, it can’t be helped…” he made a mental note to put the pastries in the Heartslabyul fridge and just deliver it to you tomorrow, under the guise of ‘checking up on you’ after working for Crowley. The two of them trudged down the path to the Hall of Mirrors, heading back to their dorms.

The two of them walked in silence until Trey abruptly said, “I don’t know what you want with the Prefect, but I hope you have their best intentions at heart.” Azul turned to give Trey a withering look, “I assure you, when it comes to the Prefect, I have nothing but good intentions.” As he stepped into Octavinelle, Azul smirked and muttered, “especially regarding their heart.” Trey lingered for a bit, staring at the Octavinelle mirror with an unreadable expression. “We’ll see about that,” he said aloud in the empty Hall, then headed back to Heartslabyul.

—•—♣️🐙🐍—•—

Meanwhile, you sighed heavily, collapsing onto the chair. The cafeteria was pretty much empty, save for the random student or two. It was already darkening outside, and you were hungry. Crowley wanted you to do something for him just before lunch, and soon half your Saturday was gone running around NRC. You’d even lost track of time, and missed Azul’s study session and Trey dropping in! You groaned, hearing your stomach growl loudly.

“Prefect? What are you doing here?”

You glanced up, seeing Jamil with a large container of tupperware and other small containers. The delicious scent of curries, labneh yogurt cheese, and freshly made pita made your mouth water. Despite yourself, Jamil caught you looking at the boxed-up food more than once.

“…Crowley had me running errands, and I may have skipped lunch…” your voice grew quiet near the end. Jamil raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “I actually ended up making too much food for Kalim,” he said, moving around the table to sit next to you. “There’s enough for an extra person, and I’ve have already eaten.”

Your eyes widened, and Jamil started dishing out some curry and flatbread for you. Bright-colored curry sauce and chickpeas flooded the platter, wafting a delicious scent. As Jamil ripped a piece of pita, your stomach growl loudly. Your face felt warm. Jamil only chuckled, pushing the plate he’d conjured towards you. “What about Kalim?” You asked, feeling bad. Jamil smiled, “Please, go ahead. There’s enough for Kalim and you.” A warm smile grew on your face, and you gave Jamil a one-sided hug before digging in. “Thank you! You’re my savior!”

As he watched you eat, a tender look grew on Jamil’s face. He shifted the food containers so he could watch you while nibbling on some flatbread. It wasn’t difficult to determine that you were off on Crowley’s whims again - with you running around the school and being gone for several hours. With that in mind, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault if he accidentally made too much food, so he thought he’d drop it off at Ramshackle later. It was sheer luck that you’d dropped by the cafeteria!

You hummed, soaking up some of the leftover curry sauce with your flatbread, “this was delicious, Jamil. Thank you so much.”

Jamil smiled genuinely, but a devious look came into his eyes when you looked back at your plate. “Please, Prefect, allow me. Wait here.” He took the plate, going to the kitchens to box up some food for you to take back. Walking back to you, he handed you the container, “It’s getting late, I can walk you back to Ramshackle.”

The two of you set off, with you holding some of Jamil’s boxes. “This was… really sweet of you, Jamil,” you smiled. You knew Jamil always had his hands full, whether it was taking care of Kalim or managing literally everything else. Maybe the food was making you gush, but you were definitely grateful for the impromptu meal. As you opened the door to Ramshackle, you gingerly handed the boxes back to him.

“Ah, wait,” he shuffled them and held a large one out to you. “This one is yours.” Your eyes widened, “Jamil, this is a lot-“ “Please.” Your eyes met his dark grey irises, and warm gratitude filled your chest. “Jamil, I… I really don’t know what to say. I have to repay you somehow-“ Now that was what he wanted to hear.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to try making some new dishes,” he glanced at you. “I’ve been needing someone to taste test them, and Kalim won’t be available…” You nodded eagerly, “Of course! I’d love to help you!” You said your goodbyes, and as the door shut behind you, Jamil had a calculating smirk on his face. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

Thanks for being patient everyone!! Hope you enjoyed this part, reblogs and comments are forever appreciated 💕

lmk if anyone wants to be added to the taglist! Take care shrimpies~ 😘

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k3n-dyll · 1 day

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||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: 18+, wlw, fem!reader, pure smut, oral (r!recieving), fingering (r!recieving), cheating, arranged marriage mentioned, southern accent, Abby is implied to be a criminal for like a second, getting caught Word Count: 1,186 || Masterlist || Divider creds || Palestine Links

Notes ☆ Some 1800s cowgirl Abby smut to hold y'all over while I get the similarly set series started (I'm being nitpicky about my writing). Also, didn't mean for this to be long lol

➳ If you allow yourself to linger on the thought for a moment - to do a bit of mental gymnastics for the sake of getting this nagging feeling of guilt and shame to subside - this really isn't your fault.

Truly. It isn't. It's theirs.

You weren't the one that wanted to marry, and you sure as hell wouldn't have chosen this suitor of all of them. That was your pious father. Good intentions aside, he was the one that confined you to this life.

And your sorry excuse for a husband, well, he took the other half of the blame. He's never home, and when he is the man always seems to have more important things to do. Not that you really want his attention anyway, but still, it'd be nice to at least speak to the person you're forced to live with. Aside from when he wants to be inside of you, of course.

If not for them you wouldn't even be here.

If only your father hadn't mettled with your marriage status - let you become some sort of spinster instead. If your scraggly bearded husband had simply kept his shady business dealings in the back of a bar instead of inviting them to his home - her large, calloused hands wouldn't be caught so tightly around your hips. You wouldn't be sitting in the head chair of the office you weren't technically allowed to be in, but the one you had renovated, all the same, eyeing the perpetually unfinished paperwork on his desk in a sad attempt to keep yourself grounded.

"You taste so fuckin' good, y'know that?"

Abby's voice and the warm, wet feeling of her tongue dragging along your slit bring you out of your own head, hips bucking up slightly at the contact you've been all but whining for, while she just nipped and kissed at your inner thighs. You look down at the blonde positioned snugly between your legs with a furrowed brow, trying your best to seem disapproving though the moans you let out tell a different story.

Who does she think she is? Popping up at your front door in the middle of the day, knowing damn well your husband wasn't home from work. This had only happened a few times before and even so, you knew why she'd come over the moment you saw the smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips when you confirmed that the man of the house was out for the day.

She wanted to fuck you in his office this time. Defile the sacred workplace of the man she calls a "friend" simply to make you uncomfortable.

Her piercing blues gaze right back into your eyes, and while half her face is hidden underneath the fabric of your skirts, you can tell that smug smile is back by the way her eyes crinkle right before they close.

It's the last you see of her freckled face before your head is tossed back in pleasure, sinful moans flooding from your parted lips as she laps at your cunt. No amount of guilt or shame would ever make you feel low enough to tell her to stop - not when her tongue makes you squirm and twitch in ways your betrothed could only ever dream of doing.

Abby never fails to make herself seem like a woman starved, messily licking and sucking at your pulsing, puffy clit, slurping you up as if you were her first and last ever meal on this Earth.

And she'd be damned if she let you breathe for even a second.

She wants to hear you gasping, gulping for air before she allows herself to pull away and she does more even then. Pushing through a sore jaw and aching fingers without complaint for as long as you could handle it.

"A-Abby... can't take much more" You whine, your thighs squeezing onto either side of her flushed face as you gently palm at the top of her head.

A high-pitched whine escapes your throat at the curl of the two thick fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, a low, amused growl coming from Abby at the sound.

"Aw, c'mon baby. Y'got another one in there for me, don't you? You and I both know you won't get to feel this good for a long while once I'm gone" she speaks in that soft, honey-like tone that makes you weak in the knees. The gentle southern drawl laced within her every syllable sending shivers through your body at the sound alone. Looking down at her is a mistake you never fail to make in this circumstance. She knows what a simple look from her can do to you and she takes advantage of it without remorse, chuckling as she watches you nod in response.

"Atta girl" She lands a quick smack on your thigh before diving back into you, a concoction of spit and slick spilling down her chin and wetting the inner fabrics of your skirt, the only sound to accompany the smacking and sucking against your pussy being your whorish cries.

Your breathing becomes quicker and more shallow when you're close. Eyes glazing over as your jaw slacks, brows knitted together in desperation for another orgasm. Your tells are so predictable, yet so incredibly delicious to Abby. This is a state only she gets to see you in. Not that you've ever confirmed it aloud for her but it's clear to her that the pompous ass you're married to can't even make you cum.

"Say it, darlin'. C'mon, you know what I wanna hear" Abby growls, popping up from underneath your skirt, detaching her lips from around your clit, and replacing them with her thumb just to speak. Just to taunt you. You do know what she wants to hear, and part of you wants to roll your eyes at the thought. Maybe you would have if your head wasn't so blank. If you weren't so aware that she'd stop pumping her fingers inside of you completely if you didn't give her the satisfaction, maybe you would be so bold as to give her attitude.

"Only you - fuck! Only you can make me feel like this"

Abby chuckles

"Oh, I know, sweet thing. Now cum for me"

Your orgasm is blinding and loud. So much so that you don't even hear the front door open from downstairs. Nor do you hear the footsteps that follow, too occupied with rutting yourself onto her fingers, gushing with each snap of your hips. Abby is just as oblivious, lifting up from her place between your thighs to crash her lips onto yours, too focused on wanting you to taste yourself on her tongue to even notice the jingling office door doorknob.

It's only when you both hear the old door begin slowly creaking open that your attention is snatched from one another, expressions shifting from ones of lust and satisfaction to pure horror as you both make eye contact with the twisted-up, angry face of the man you had just slandered aloud. Your husband. Back home early from work

Shit.

Thanks for reading ☆ Reblogs appreciated

Taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery

#lesbian #wlw #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #☆kennie's works #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #abby x you #abby x reader #idk if i like this or not

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permanentswaps · 2 days

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Building Each Other Up Pt. 2

Read Pt. 1 here.

Mark's POV

"Fuckkk," I muttered, flexing and feeling up my body and arms. The sensation of Shane being expelled from me, while surprising, actually felt really good—almost like a mental-only orgasm.

Shane, now in my body, was still sitting on the floor, looking up at me with wide, confused eyes. I took a moment to take it all in, before finally looking down at him.

"Shane, you okay?" I asked. “Or should I call you Mark now?” I said with a smile.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice—my voice—definitely a bit angry.

"I don't know, man. This is new for me too. I guess... I guess I pushed you out. Are you alright?" I said.

"No! Dude, what the fuck, why wouldn’t you get out?"

I raised my hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to stay that long. I was just having such a good time training, and I wanted to help you out."

His eyes narrowed, frustration evident in his tone. "Well, that fucking sucked to be trapped inside my head for that long.”

"I know, I know," I said, my voice earnest. "I'm really sorry. I got carried away. It won't happen again."

"Okay, do we have any more of the potion on hand? Is that all we need to swap back, you think?" Shane asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Wait, wait, hold on," I said quickly. "You're out now. Why don't we just stay like this for a little bit? I'll keep training in your body, and you can actually enjoy the time off rather than just being locked in your head."

He looked at me, still clearly annoyed but weighing his options. To swap back, he knew he would need to jump into my body and go through that whole process again. And who knows if he’d be able to actually force me out of this sexy body if I didn’t want to leave?

Shane sighed, running a hand through his—my—hair. "Okay," he relented. "But just a few days. And you better not pull any more stunts."

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Scout's honor. Just a few days, I promise. And I’ll keep pushing hard at the gym to make sure you're in the best shape possible for the competition."

Before he could change his mind, I left the gym and walked out to my car and quickly took a few selfies.

---

The next night, I invited Ali over. It had been over a week since we’d last met up, and I was excited to be able to fuck him without Shane being there—it felt more intimate.

I wasn’t entirely sure how Shane felt about the sex part of the arrangement. Usually, if I even hinted at the idea of hooking up with a guy, he’d retreat into his subconscious and not be a part of it. He didn’t have a problem with me doing it per se. I mean how could he, it was his idea first. But I just think he found the whole thing a bit weird to not be in control of. I kind of got off on that back in the day, but I respect that he doesn’t.

But now, this was going to be the third time I’d hooked up with Ali. Maybe Shane would have a problem with me hooking up with the same guy so consistently—he probably wouldn’t want to give Ali the wrong ideas about this body.

Well, the good thing at least is that I’ve only really been messaging Ali on Grindr so far. I had made a profile using Shane’s pics on my own phone so that I could keep the fun going even when I was out of it. I made sure to have a secret backlog of photos too. All that to say, there’s not a huge risk of Shane finding out.

When the doorbell rang, I opened the door to see Ali standing there, looking hotter than ever in his tank top, beads of sweat still glistening from his workout. I could tell he had come straight from the gym, and the sight of his toned muscles and confident stride sent a jolt of excitement through me.

"Hey," he greeted me with a warm smile as he stepped inside. "You look great."

"Thanks, you too," I replied, my eyes drinking in the sight of his fit, athletic body.

We made our way to the living room, and as we settled in, Ali turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, I was thinking... how about we go on an actual date tonight instead of jumping straight into the hookup?"

I was taken aback. A date? I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a no-kidding date. Usually, the hot bottoms Ali’s age didn’t give my old body that kind of chance. I was more just a fun older fantasy for them—a quick, no-strings-attached daddy thrill.

"An actual date?" I repeated, a mix of surprise and curiosity in my voice.

I hesitated for a moment, processing the words before saying, "Sure, why not? I’d like that."

We went downtown to a movie theater and watched the latest superhero movie. The place was packed, but we managed to get good seats near the back. About halfway through the movie, during a particularly quiet moment, Ali reached over and gently took my hand in his. I glanced over at him, and he gave me a shy smile. Sure we had already fucked, but something about the innocence of the gesture made my heart race.

Later, as the movie progressed, I decided to make a move of my own. I shifted my hand from his and placed it on his muscular thigh, rubbing it up and down. My large hand practically swallowed his thigh, making it look small in comparison. Ali turned to me and grinned, biting his lip.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, we both stood and stretched, exchanging amused looks as we mimicked the superhero poses we’d just seen on screen. Damn that tank top left nothing to be desired as he flexed his biceps for me.

As we walked back to his place, we joked the whole way there.

"Damn, you're really funny," I said, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

"Thanks," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I try."

When we reached his apartment building, I turned to him, feeling a bit reluctant to end the night. "I had a really nice time tonight. I really want to do this again sometime."

"Oh yeah, me too," Ali said with a grin. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "But we aren't done yet." He opened the door and gestured for me to follow him up to his apartment.

I felt a thrill of excitement as I followed him inside. His apartment was cozy and stylish, and filled with cool travel memorabilia.

"So, what now?" I asked, leaning in closer.

Ali smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, we could start by picking up where we left off in the theater."

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

We have a seat on the couch, and Ali wastes no time straddling me. I grab both sides of his waist, guiding him as he grinds on me through our clothes. The friction is intoxicating, and I can feel my dick getting hard, pressing insistently against my jeans.

Ali's hands are all over my pecs, exploring the firm muscles beneath my shirt. "Take it off," he whispers, lifting the fabric and tossing it aside. "Flex for me."

I oblige quickly, flexing my chest muscles, watching his eyes light up with desire. He leans in, moving to the side to lick my hairy pits. He moans, "God, you smell so good."

I grab the back of his head, holding him there with a firm but reassuring grip. The sensation of his tongue against my skin is electric, sending shivers down my spine. Eventually, he lifts his head, his eyes glazed with lust. He stands up, strips down in front of me, and straddles my waist again. This time, he’s naked, and he starts rubbing his hard cock between my pecs.

The feel of his smooth skin and the sight of his cock sliding between my pecs almost makes me lose control right then and there. I’m already on the edge, and I haven’t even entered him yet.

Ali takes off my pants, his fingers grazing my thighs as he pulls them down. He positions himself over my cock, looking down at me with a mix of anticipation and desire.

"You ready, cutie?" I ask, my voice low and husky.

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Good boy," I tell him as he slowly starts to sit, taking in all of my manhood. The tightness and heat around my cock are almost too much to bear. He moves at his own pace, adjusting to my size, and I can see the concentration and pleasure on his face.

He finally settles down completely, and we both let out a groan of satisfaction. I grip his hips firmly, guiding his movements as he starts to ride me. The rhythm builds slowly at first, then faster, more urgent.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I murmur, my hands roaming over his body, caressing his skin.

Ali's hands are braced on my chest, his fingers digging into my muscles as he rides me. "You too, sir," he gasps, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Soooooo fucking good."

I thrust up into him, meeting his movements with powerful strokes. The intensity of the connection between us is overwhelming, and I know I won’t last much longer.

"Come for me," I urge him, my voice rough with need. "Come on, boy."

With a cry, Ali's body tenses, and he spills his load over my chest. The sight and feel of him coming is enough to push me over the edge, and I climax inside him, filling him with everything I’ve got.

We collapse together on the couch, breathing hard and spent. Ali rests his head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"That was amazing," he says after a moment, his voice soft and content.

"Yeah, it was," I agree, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You were incredible."

He looks up at me with a smile. "So, when can we do this again?"

"Anytime you want," I reply, feeling a rush of happiness. "Anytime you want."

To be continued…

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luvelylaconic · 3 days

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Jealous? Nah. (Yes.)

Gojo x Fem Reader: Part 3. MINORS DNI

<< Prev

In which, you befriend Suguru and it doesn't sit well with Satoru. He's sure it's just because he doesn't want to lose his best friend, right?

Content: Possessiveness, Jealousy, Eventual smut, Jujutsu College AU, Slight Toxic Relationship, Sexual Themes

What did he mean he will do something about it?

Satoru's inner turmoil got the best of him as he sat on his friend's bed, still attempting to grasp the earlier conversation;

Did he mean it as a competition?

He wasn't one to back down on a competition- he always wins. So he will have you- not Suguru.

But that doesn't means he likes you in any means past a simple attraction, right?

He's nearly positive that once he gets it out of his system and gets the satisfaction that he's won you over Suguru, everything will return to normalcy.

But until then, he had to find a way to get close to you to begin with- enough for you to even talk to him at the very least.

He admits, he hasn't been the most friendliest to you. But that was the case for most people; he didn't bother to form relationships or make small talk with people. He found it mundane, pointless- due to the sheer fact he was the strongest, and everyone else was below him. He had no need to satisfy other people's inner need for these useless bonds that they craved so desperately from him. He had Suguru as a friend, and that was all he needed.

Or so he thought.

Because now he was facing a dilemma he never once thought he would face.

Sure, he's talked to girls before. But it was nothing more than some entertainment; having someone to take with to the club when Suguru had a date, or someone who had connections to parties that he could tag along with. And with the occasional, but very seldom time, where he did go further with them- it was nothing more than to satisfy the needs he even admit he has.

But he never once had a label on any of these arrangements, nor has he kept in contact with one girl for more than two weeks.

He could also count on one hand the amount of girls he's slept with- or actually,with only three fingers... or two...?

Satoru starts to think if one even counted. He either tends to forget girls from being under the influence (which he now realizes he doesn't enjoy doing), or simply does not care to remember.

Because the times he did do anything beyond having them as company, it was with a simple need in mind. He didn't particularly enjoy anything from it and found himself with regret instead the following day. So at some point, he just stopped seeing girls all together.

And no one dared to judge him for it, which he was content with him.

But now he was at a complete loss on what to do with you.

He's sure it will come naturally. But the thought of you not being interested has him uneasy, he's never faced rejection. And the possibility of being rejected by specifically you felt even worse.

Because, even though he would like to deny it, there was that part of him that wanted you to genuinely like him.

But he chose to ignore that thought as he sent a text to you,

Hey, thanks for the notes. What's your coffee order?

When the next day followed, Satoru made sure to get ready a bit earlier than usual to stop by the coffee stand before class- making sure the order was exactly what you requested.

Even sending a quick picture to Suguru of the coffee with a text that follows,

Don't worry about making her coffee today ;)

He now waited at the same seat from yesterday, leaving your drink sitting beside him on the desk as he sipped on his very sweet and sugary drink, that perhaps didn't even count as a coffee anymore.

But when he saw you walk in a little later than usual, he made a mental note on how slowly you moved and how your eyes didn't leave your feet as you made your way up the stairs of the lecture room. Your bag barely in your grasp as you tugged it along.

It wasn't until you sat down did he notice how absolutely drained you looked; your complexion dimmed, your eyelids looked heavy while the area under eyes began to darken slightly, and when you smiled at him while thanking him for the coffee- the smile didn't reach your bright eyes like they usually did.

"What happened to you?", he murmured as he set his coffee down, adverting all his attention to you.

You only sighed, rubbing your eyes from exhaust, "Yaga set me out on a high priority mission last night. I got back an hour ago."

Before he could ask anymore details, the professor began talking and you were quick to start your notes like you usually did.

But he kept on thinking about Yaga. Why did he send you out? Alone at that it seems. Why couldn't he had sent him instead- it would have been taken care of faster that way.

He also didn't like the thought of you possibly struggling on your own in the middle of the night, with nobody there to protect you. The thought of it irked him, only adding another thing to the list of reasons he doesn't particularly like the higher ups.

But it's whatever, he finally concluded. You were a first grade after all, and you didn't seem physically hurt by any means. Just... exhausted.

He then brought his attention back to class, noticing in his peripheral the way you were struggling to keep up with the lecture. Your notes didn't have your personalized details, and you often left information out- your main focus being to keep yourself awake more than anything.

So he took it upon himself to slide the notebook away from you, then grabbing his much neglected pen from his pocket,

"I'll take notes for you.", was all he said before he began jotting down the notes where you left off, not giving a second glance as he did.

And you nodded in appreciation, not in a place to contend- as you now leaned into your arms, allowing yourself to close your eyes for a little. All while Satoru made sure to add every detail he possibly could to your notes, making sure they were as pretty as yours. And as pretty as he thought you looked while you napped.

"I think he took it the wrong way when I said I would do something about it."

Shoko groaned in frustration as she flicked her lighter that now ran dead, only igniting small flames that weren't enough to light her cigarette. But Suguru was quick to grab his out his pocket, lighting it for her. She sighed a thanks before inhaling in,

She then exhaled out after a few seconds, letting the smoke fan out around her as the cigarette sat on the side of her mouth, "Leave it to Satoru to take it that way."

The raven hair man shrugged, "I was only trying to help. Be a wingman, I suppose.", he then took a few steps away from Shoko, settling behind her against a wall, hoping the smoke smell didn't linger on him.

He knew you didn't like the smell of smoke. It was obvious every time Shoko lit a cigarette near you. But you were always nice about it, typical of you.

"But why go through all the trouble?", she once again took a hit from the lit stick, a longer one this time, "I thought you liked her."

Smoke once again puffed out, a big cloud now surrounding the two.

"I do."

Shoko finally turned her face towards him, looking at him through the corners of her eyes,

"Then, why?"

Suguru thought for a moment,

"Because I care for Satoru too, and i've been worried about him.", he began as he started walking away, knowing she would follow suit, "I know being the strongest sorcerer gets to him, it would to anyone. But he has it so warped that he thinks he doesn't need anyone else. But he does. He needs someone that isn't me- someone that can help him and be there for him in a way I can't."

The trailing girl took the cigarette out of her mouth, stomping on it,

"And that someone is Y/N?"

"Yeah, I think so."

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #satoru x you

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cripplecharacters · 8 hours

Note

What are possible ways an autistic character can recover from a shutdown/meltdown. And how can other characters help them recover without possibly making it worse?

Meltdowns and shutdowns are a possible brain response to overload/overwhelm. That overload comes from not being able to handle stimuli, and that stimuli can be external (like sensory input) or internal (like with emotions), or a combination of both. They're kind of like a fight (meltdown) or freeze (shutdown) fear response.

How an autistic character recovers from a meltdown or shutdown can vary, because what sets people off is different, but also because the cause of the meltdown or shutdown also varies a lot.

For example, once I had a meltdown because there was a helicopter flying very close to my apartment for almost two hours. I was already tired, and the noise was loud and constant and completely out of my control. Ear defenders were not working well. To help me during and after my meltdown, my boyfriend hugged me (because I enjoy physical touch, and especially if it's 'solid' it calms me down, got my weighted blanket for me, and talked to me only when I seemed to respond well. Then he made sure I drank water and got some rest.

These things helped because they generally are already calming to me: pressure, solid physical touch, and affection. But someone who doesn't like physical touch won't have that help them recover.

Universally, though, a meltdown or a shutdown is draining and does not feel good. It can feel a bit relieving, because usually once it's done you feel like you have less tension, but having it doesn't actually feel good – it often feels like completely losing control, and that feels awful. Things that make self-regulation harder, like being tired or frustrated, will make a meltdown a bit more likely, but they also make it harder to recover from one.

Which means that what helps people recover has a couple different elements:

One, that they are no longer in the same situation or environment that caused the shutdown/meltdown, as much as possible. This can mean physically leaving the space, or that a triggering sound is gone, or that a stressor is no longer active. Generally this is part of creating an environment that feels safe, which can often means a space with as little external stimuli as possible at least for the time being. (So quiet, sometimes dark, without asking for a lot.)

Two, that they are doing something that helps them rest and recover. Sometimes this can be a nap, or drinking some water, or having some food, or lying or sitting down as comfortably as possible. If someone's helping, they can say "Hey, I'm here for you,"

Three, that they have or do something that makes them feel good. And just like for non-autistic people, this is the most variable factor of them all. A common one can be pressure, whether that's with a weighted blanket or vest, or with another person like a hug. Having a comfort item or fidget/stim item can help as well. For some people talking can help; for some talking might be difficult or impossible after a meltdown or shutdown.

Four, just straight up time. This can be an hour or three or a whole day. It really varies. Imagine spending a huge amount of mental energy in twenty minutes, on top of being extremely stressed out. Exhausting, right? You might want to take the rest of your day pretty easy to recover.

As to other characters helping, creating a low stimuli environment is a safe bet. A partner, family member, or friend would also likely know what makes your character feel better when they're stressed — a meltdown or shutdown is an extra stress response. They can generally help by staying calm and showing their support.

Hope this helps! :)

– mod sparrow

#autism representation #meltdowns & shutdowns #mod sparrow

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idleoblivion · 1 day

Text

"You Don't Want to See Me Like This" - Vil Schoenheit x GN Reader

Synopsis: You were spiraling and you knew it, skipping classes, not taking care of yourself and ignoring your friends in favor of rotting in bed. You didn’t want anybody to see you in this state, least of all your perfect boyfriend.

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: Crazy how fast I go from writing smut to comfort fics lol. First time writing Vil sorry if he's ooc.

Warnings: Vague description of poor mental health, he comforts you

The first knocks on your door you ignore entirely, not moving an inch from your position curled up under your blankets. The second time, you do move, but only to check your phone for any messages from Ace or Deuce saying they were coming. They had been the most adamant about trying to reach you, with Ace sending you sarcastic messages and memes to get your attention while Deuce opted for more genuine “Hey, it’s been a minute, you alright?” and “I hope you feel better soon!” texts. You loved them, truly you did, but you were in no mood to talk to them. You couldn’t remember how many days it’s been since you’ve seen them in person.

The third knocks are louder and impatient. You sigh and close your eyes again. As you're preparing to reach for the earbuds on your nightstand to tune them out, the voice you hear from the other side of the door stops you in your tracks.

“I know you can hear me, potato. And you know I don’t appreciate being ignored.”

Your eyes shoot open again. You weren’t expecting him at all.

It’s not like you thought Vil wouldn’t notice. He was always very attuned to what you were feeling, it was something you loved about him. Somehow you had gotten lucky, with his schedule apparently being even busier than usual you had managed to evade him. But he was here now, and clearly not happy. You know he cares dearly for you, but still you didn’t know how to talk to him about everything going on in your head right now. Not when he seemed to handle every problem he had with ease, while you were just wallowing in your misery. Not when he was this emblem of beauty and grace, not when he wouldn’t be caught dead looking like you did right now.

You sit up and turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror. You haven’t showered or brushed your hair and it shows. The circles under your eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them. You had been completely neglecting the skin care routine Vil picked out especially for you for several days, and you were sure he would be able to tell.

“Vil…I’m alright, I just don’t feel well. I’m tired, and I’m trying to rest.”

“According to your friends, it’s been nearly two weeks that you haven’t been feeling well. Either you’re lying to me, or you need to go to the infirmary this instant.” You could picture the frown on his face and crease in his brow just from his tone.

You don’t answer him. You silently curse Ace and Deuce for getting him involved, wishing your bed would just swallow you whole so you could avoid this conversation. He stays quiet too for a moment. You hear him sigh before he continues.

“I…I’m not trying to patronize you. Please just let me in, I need to see you.” His voice turns almost pleading at the end, surprising you. He never pleaded or begged for anything.

“You don’t want to see me like this, Vil.” Your resolve was weakening hearing how worried he actually sounded, but you were still so ashamed of your current appearance. What would he think if he saw you? Would he feel pity, maybe even disgust? You didn’t want either of those reactions from him.

“You can’t say that. You can’t tell me how or when I want to see you.”

Another minute or two of silence passes, and you realize he really isn’t going anywhere. You drag yourself up out of bed and to your door and hesitantly unlock it. You walk back to your bed and plop down again before saying “Come in.”

He opens the door gently, eyes immediately fixated on you. He takes in your disheveled self and looks around your room for a moment too. You hadn’t even realized how messy it was until he was looking around, laundry and other junk left lying out in the open. Another wave of shame washed over you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-” You start to choke up as you put your head in your hands, but he interrupts you.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” You look back up at him confused. He’s looking at you, but you don’t feel the judgment in his gaze you were anticipating. He’s looking at you gently, fondly even, and that alone nearly makes you cry.

“I’ve been preoccupied with the production the Film Studies club is working on, and I seem to have neglected something much more important." He approaches you and offers you his hand, which you take. He holds your hand tenderly and continues. “It’s my duty to notice things like this, and I’ve let this go on too long already. What can I do for you, love? What can I do to help?”

The tears that had been welling up finally start falling, and he brings his other hand to cradle your face lovingly. You stay like that together for a few moments, with you crying and him just holding you.

Through sniffles, you tell him “I don’t know. I want to feel better, but I don’t, I don’t know I just-” you cut yourself off with another sob. He nods his head like he understands. He seems to stop and process an idea before he stands up.

“Well, looking better may help you feel better. Come with me, back to Pomefiore. Bring some pajamas, we’ll run you a bath and have a self care night together. I’ve got some new products I’ve been wanting to test that we can try out.” He smiles at you and beckons for you to stand with him. You do, and nod at him as you try to calm yourself down more. “Y-yeah, that might be nice.” You hold your arms out, asking for a hug and he obliges immediately.

He holds you tightly before speaking to you softly. “You don’t need to keep things from me, you know. I’d much rather hear about how you’re doing from you than those other potatoes.” You let out a small laugh, which makes him grin. “Can you promise you’ll come to me next time?”

“Okay, I promise. Especially if it gets you to spoil me like this.”

“It’s not spoiling, love. It’s just what you deserve.” He kisses your forehead before you walk out of your room together, still holding his hand.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disney twst #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil twst #twisted wonderland #twst x gn reader #twst fluff

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sorreysorren · 3 days

Text

if you think about it, it's like a game

he was enthralled by you in the same way he'd be when he found a game that was actually challenging.

(a/n: so you make his heart go doki doki?? and then you both go kiss kiss fall inlove???)

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

phase i — the trigger

(aka the storm)

you stood at the entrance of the training field, although it was well past midnight.

it would take a while for blue lock’s backup generators to kick in during the storm.

everyone had already headed off to wash up or return to their dorms– in pure darkness.

a handful had planned to continue practicing, but after various hits to the faces, from one to another, ball after ball; deeming it impossible to continue, everyone begrudgingly left.

but you decided to come back. you could make it work, or at least that’s what you thought.

you thought wrong though, because the flashlight from your phone wasn’t enough to let you practice effectively. you didn’t have to see through the darkness to be able to tell that you were missing goal after goal.

you decided that maybe you could stay up until the backup generators began operating. you wanted time to practice solo, rather than in a group setting, so you thought maybe you could be the first one to use the training field.

of course, though, you weren’t sure when the generators would actually come and do their job, so this could end up being a waste of your time.

you sat in the training grounds, mindlessly playing papa’s freezeria, humming along to the soundtrack every time you finished an order correctly. there was a customer in the game: he had a bowl cut and glasses, heavily resembling ego, which caused you to snicker. it was almost taunting because soon, your thoughts circle back to the power outage.

you mentally scold ego in your brain for the way he chose to invest blue lock’s funds.

seriously.

you ought to think he’d be doing his best to get everyone back on schedule, considering his evident distaste for the current situation, but surprisingly; he too, suggested calling it a day.

at some point, you decided to get up and head to the cafeteria, having grown slightly hungry after also playing papa’s donuteria. and papa’s cupcakeria. and papa’s bakeria. and– okay. you were really hungry.

as you walked out towards the hallway, your heart leaped out of your chest when you thought you saw a shadowy figure.

you do a double take, and flash your phone’s bright flashlight at what you thought was something resembling the babadook (if this was a horror movie, you would’ve just wasted 15 seconds and caused your own death.)

you sigh in relief after realizing it’s only nagi.

you’re certain you can still hear your heart thumping through your ears.

“..sorry.” you tell him after seeing his scrunched-up expression, quickly retreating your phone from his face, “i didn’t think anyone else would be out here”

“oh. same.” he yawned.

your eyes wander behind him, from the direction you assumed he came from. “were you in the cafeteria?”

he nods. “i forgot the outage meant the food order system wouldn’t work.”

you pause. you hadn’t thought of that.

but then an idea pops into your head: “did you try the vending machines?”

he looked at you as if you were stupid, “that’s also powered by electricity”

“well, yeah,” you say while removing one of the bobby pins from your hair, “but these exist too.”

---

the two of you sat at a table near the corner of the cafeteria. in front of you were a crap ton of different kinds of snacks, candy, etc.

it was silent at first, the only noise was the crinkling of your kitkat bar.

nagi didn’t seem to mind it, as he started watching a video on his phone.

you took notice of how many twizzlers he’d gotten. an ungodly amount.

you were a twizzler hater.

“do you really like those?” you hadn’t meant to sound so judgy, but you couldn't help yourself.

“if i didn’t, why would i be eating them?” he answered simply. he didn’t seem to take offense. though it wasn’t really an answer if he was replying with another question.

to each their own , you thought. at least it wasn’t black licorice.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

phase ii — the manifestations

(aka the feelings)

the following day, the power was finally back.

everyone was eating their meal, talking, or doing their own thing.

near the end, ego’s face popped up on the wall, making yet another announcement before signing off, out of spite, ego announced the vending machines would be out of service for a while until the various amounts of snacks that miraculously… "disappeared” (as ego emphasized with a scornful tone) were replaced.

nagi’s eyes instinctively wandered towards where you were, and the two of you made eye contact. it was sort of like an inside joke.

nagi didn't speak to many others except reo. in fact, he wasn't interested in being around anyone else. so if reo saw nagi show even the slightest interest in anyone, reo would know they must have something of a character.

---

days passed.

there was a morning in which nagi found you in the training field,

well, he didn’t find you.

he left his water bottle there earlier and he would’ve sent reo to get it, but he was in the shower.

he watched you dribble, touch drills, and practice target accuracy.

nagi continues to recall the night of the power outage.

you’d just been coming out of the training field.

he wondered if you were trying to practice then as well.

he was enthralled by you in the same way he'd be when he found a game that was actually challenging.

what he didn't know is that you'd be a challenge to him in more ways than one.

it wasn't just your looks.

it was how you played, and how you presented yourself; you were egocentric, but you were genuine. you were egocentric when you needed to be, and you still found the time to be kind. you kept a balance.

every now and then, with a shy smile on your face, you’d offer him a pack of twizzlers.

that action made his chest twist in an unfamiliar way.

it was a hassle.

this feeling distracted him when he played his favorite games. it distracted him when he was trying to multitask (50% whatever he’s doing, 40% that feeling, 10% listening to reo).

he came to associate that feeling with only you. the y/n effect , he’d subconsciously come to call it. (50% whatever he's doing, 40% you, 10% listening to reo).

these were the thoughts that went through nagi's head. things he would never say aloud. the kinds of thoughts foreign to him– as many things having to do with human-to-human connections and interaction were.

reo knew this. reo noticed this.

when he caught nagi staring at you for an extended period, he realized this was nagi's edition of a crush. which was weird. because nagi wasn't the type of guy to just get crushes.

but now, every so often nagi’s gaze would leave his phone, and he’d glance around until he caught sight of you.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

phase iii — ???

nagi wasn't a jealous person.

he wasn't even jealous whenever you got your hands on some rare game that just came out that you happened to earn through the amount of goals you scored (reo's trust-fund-ass would probably just get for him anyway, but still.)

he could see that this “y/n effect” that’s taken over his life didn’t affect him alone.

he didn’t like that.

nagi was not a jealous person.

but whenever he saw you smile at another the same way you smiled at him, the grip he held on the phone in his hands grew tighter.

“nagi? hey chill, don’t get too upset over a game.” reo would tell him after taking notice of his white knuckles. reo had a hunch this wasn’t about the game on his phone at all, though.

of course, nagi didn’t know that the smile you gave to others wasn't the same smile you gave to only him.

---

during meal hours you’d started sitting with nagi, reo, and zantetsu.

it wasn’t really a thing that was premeditated, it kind of just happened.

reo was wary of you at first. he wanted to dislike you, but he couldn’t find a genuine reason to do so. plus points for liking some of the same artists as him.

zantetsu didn’t really care. you were just another face to the table.

at first, you sat across from nagi, but soon, you began sitting next to him. sometimes you’d exchange parts of your meal. for example, you could have some of his ramen, if he could have some of your onigiri.

you still brought him a pack of twizzlers every day.

each time, he’d stop his game for a second to open the pack. before resuming, he’d glance at you and mutter a quick “thanks.”

---

it was unconscious, the way your pinky interlocked with his as you sat next to him in the cafeteria. that was another thing that just happened on its own. neither of you ever acknowledged it out loud, but people (like reo, specifically) took notice.

the interlocked pinkies would turn into hand-holding. again, another thing that wasn’t addressed out loud.

in a way, it was like a game.

one small achievement leads to another step, which leads to another achievement, which ultimately leads to an ending.

and if there’s one thing that nagi is good at, it’s winning games.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

#blue lock #bllk #bllk manga #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock nagi #nagi seishiro #blue lock reo #bllk reo #reo mikage #bllk nagi #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi

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lfzyxf · 3 days

Text

What it’s like being best friends with Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski in season one and two

In season one it’s really just the three of you together, always. I like to think that in most situations it would be you and Stiles ganging up against Scott together.

Weekly hangouts at Scotts place. Melissa would definitely be like a mother to both you and Stiles. Similarly, I’d say Stiles’ dad would be like a father to you. It doesn’t matter if you already have parents, good or bad. They’d still always be there for you.

Gossip sessions during lunch. I know Stiles hears everything, there is no way he wouldn’t know all the juicy stuff going on at school.

Supporting Stiles’ crush on Lydia…Poor guy needs all the help he can get with it. And obviously helping Scott the same way once he meets Allison.

When Scott gets bitten everything does change for your small group. Scott changes, physically and mentally. New people start joining you guys at lunch. Its not just the three of you anymore. I think it might wear you out a bit… All the dynamics suddenly changing.

It would be Stiles who notices first, making sure you know they still love you. Promising to always be your best friends. He’d probably end up telling Scott who then drags you into the group more. Introducing you again, trying to let everyone know more about you.

During season two you’re much closer to all the others as well. Maybe you even end up hanging out with Allison and Lydia every week as well?

When Derek starts turning more teenagers Scott would definitely threaten Derek to stay away from you. He already knows Stiles doesn’t want to be bitten, but maybe he would see you as a possible target.

They get so protective when Isaac comes back to school. They’ll keep you away from the two new wolves, doing their best not to leave your side.

And don’t even mention how protective they are about the whole kanima situation. Yes, they know you can handle yourself, but this is a snake like monster with venom in its claws. They are not leaving you, end of discussion.

Personally, I would still try to befriend Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. I’ve always felt bad for them. Scott would try to dissuade you; he’d think it’s too dangerous. But I think Stiles wouldn’t mind too much, though he still wouldn’t want you to be alone with them.

When all that is over and everyone is once again friendly with each other, you would finally become great friends with the three new werewolves.

Overall being friends with Scott and Stiles is kind of a mess… But it’s so worth it. They love you so much and they couldn’t live without you.

Maybe you’d help them stay closer than they end up being in the show.

If you end up dating another werewolf Scott would probably sit you down and have a talk about all the dangers that come with it.

Stiles on the other side has no problem with it at all. If Scott can date Allison, why can’t you date a werewolf? Go you!

And if you end up dating a more…regular person. They would be so happy for you! Though Stiles would make you promise that he is still your number one. Don’t tell Scott.

I don’t think you’d end up getting turned into a werewolf unless you really want to be and get Derek to turn you. Scott would do his best to keep you and Stiles safe and human. But if you really want to become a werewolf, especially for medical reasons, he’ll still support you. At least he’ll know how to help you now.

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #isaac lahey #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #lydia martin #allison argent #derek hale #platonic teen wolf #platonic scott mccall #platonic stiles stilinski

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asmodaywritesstuff · 1 day

Text

Another one bites the dust! - Leon S. Kennedy

Comfort fic for yall, I know it didn’t win the poll, but the Ada fic is still in the making 😓

Tags: Sexual innuendo, fluff, hurt-comfort, re4r Leon, No established releationship, cRinGE

Read at your own risk, lol

You were scared for your fucking life in this Spanish village until he found you.

Leon S. Kennedy, here on the President’s orders to rescue his daughter. An American agent who was on the search for a blonde girl called Ashley – He found the both of you in the church and almost shot you. Luckily, Ashley told him about you. Otherwise, you would’ve most likely been left to rot in that damned building.

You had seen all kinds of fucked-up shit in the past few hours… or had it been days already? It’s easy to lose your sense of time in this shithole. Well, at least you weren’t the cults primary focus now since Ashley managed to get captured for the second time now and they didn’t really seem to care about you all that much. You were an offering from a random villager to Osmund Saddler himself, and it was clear that you were quite unimportant to everyone. While Ashley was gone, you stuck with Leon, and he gladly handed you a handgun to defend yourself with. Even bought it for you from the weird-ass merchant guy that was seemingly everywhere- What a gentleman.

It was clear to him that you were able to defend yourself, despite not being as good at aiming, you sure were a natural with the handgun. You even managed to save his ass like twice when some villagers attacked him from behind. In conclusion, you two were a really good team, if you could even call it that.

During the time you two spent together, you learned a lot about him. The S in his name stands for Scott- which you thought was pretty cute, even if you had mentally scold yourself for calling him ‘Leon Slut Kennedy’ in your mind. But who could blame you? The guy has huge fucking arms and a face that girls drool over. He looked like one of the models in those underwear commercials. Well, not that you would mind seeing him in his boxers.

To make it short, you may or may not have had a small crush on him.

And that made it even worse for you when you managed to get lost after you two split up. You tried to retrace your steps, but to no avail. You were lost in some huge-ass science lab while Ashley was dying here somewhere. Leon was probably busy kicking ass and solving riddles while you were being attacked and had to fight on your own. There were about 5 soldiers trying to kill you while you screamed for Leon to come get you. You were scared for your life, especially when your bullets ran out due to all the shots you missed.

Your hands were trembling too much. Scared for your life, you just ran past them, hoping to run into something you could use to defend yourself. But of course, luck wasn’t on your side. And that’s how you ended up crying in a lab corner ‘cause you were terrified of dying. Upon hearing some Soldiers yelling, you hugged your legs tightly and covered your mouth to stop the loud sobbing noises. You were at least hoping for a quick death as you heard footsteps. This was it.

But to your surprise, you saw Leon, panting and frantically looking around the room, most likely trying to find you. Slowly, you removed your hand from your lips, but when you wanted to call out to him, no sound came out of your mouth. It was fucking terrifying. Leon quickly spotted you, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, looking as frightened as ever.

“I- There were too many and I couldn’t..- I’m so, so sorry... You had to come here to get me instead of continuing your mission and it’s all my fault!” you apologized profusely, breathing heavily. You thought you were going to die. But he saved you. Again. He should have just left you in that church- You were nothing but an inconvenience to his mission. So why did he even bother saving you?

Gently, Leon gripped your cheeks to make you face him. You hadn’t even realised that tears were rolling down your reddened cheeks. Leon wiped them away with his thumb. “Hey- don’t cry. I saved you because I wanted to save you. You did nothing wrong- it’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too sometimes- but that doesn’t stop me from trying to stop bad things from happening.” He reassured you, voice smooth and gentle. He was too good at this.

You sobbed a bit as you extended your hand, Leon taking it and pulling you up in a fluid motion. He smiled gently, pulling you into a tight embrace and wrapping his big arms around you. The gesture made you blush.

“Come on, we gotta get going.” He whispered soothingly, releasing you and giving you a pat on the back like a dad. Funny enough, he wasn’t even in his thirties, and he already resembled a father figure. A daddy figure. As you liked to call it.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #Asmowritesstuff #fluff #shorts

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cereusblue · 1 year

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Hey yall, happy reminder that if your doctor/therapist/psychiatrist treats you like shit? Drop em. Like dead fucking weight. There's a difference between them telling you some hard to swallow information and them being a straight up asshole. Take care of yourself. I know it can be hard to distinguish between hard to swallow information and them being rude, and if you're having a hard time with it then maybe attempt to reach out to them and see how they respond. If they double down and do not take your feelings into consideration, dump em. If they seem apologetic and want to understand and help you feel more comfortable about the information you were given? Then hang on, you may have misconstrued some words. There ARE doctors who care and want to help you. The medical field isn't wholly evil, I promise. I work in it too, I know there's some rules we can't bend and some things we have to do but.. All in all, it's all about giving patients the care they need to live a better life. Please, please take care of yourselves out there. When it comes to your mental health, the only one who can truly take the best care of you is yourself. In the sense that you have to make the decisions to make changes, take leaps, and ask for help. Be good to yourself 💙

#i just finished a virtual appt where my dr would roll her head back and smile incredulously any time i didnt have all the info she wanted #because said info is 7+ or 20 years old and i no longer have it #she was very cold and unfeeling the entire time and had no tact in going about very sensitive information #i took 40 minutes to calm down after she ended my session 20 minutes early #called the company and reported her ass for unprofessional behavior #i described everything to the scheduler in more detail #and even she was like #oh my god im so sorry!#immediately was pulled from that persons schedule and added to someone else as well as not charged for the shit visit i just had #thats not the rule for all places but it was the rule for this one #she was just very sweet in helping me get my stuff changed #take care of yourselves #the person who can take the best care of yourself is you #at least when it comes to your mental well being #anyway im rambling #have a good day everyone

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