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#but they definitely do have their bad and difficult moments
missmugiwara · 2 days
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That Was Nothing
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Summary: gn!reader x Gojo // Satoru wants a kiss. Won't you give him one? Oh, pretty please? He's been soooo good.
Warning: 18+, suggestive, smutty, some dubious consent (in the form of kissing), flirting, sexual tension, friends to lovers, sweetheart as a pet name
Note: Once again, the love of my life is insufferable. AND I ONLY WANT HIM MORE.
✦ Word count is 2.5k ✦
"Come on. Just one."
It would be a lie.
A complete and utter lie to say you weren't dumbstruck.
Swiftly, you whipped your head around so fast to face Satoru Gojo it was almost dizzying. The perfect set of lips upon your face parted, breath hitched in your chest, and then you remembered - breathe. Remember to breathe. A heat erupted against your cheeks, and you could only stare with dilated eyes at the sorcerer before you.
Gojo tilted his head to the side innocently and let out a small snicker. He continued on.
"Just one kiss!"
The pleasant smile on Gojo's face was soooo adorable which only made this all the more embarrassing.
He just wanted a kiss.
His words replayed in your head so tantalizingly. Immediately, your eyes bolted to his own set of plump lips - immaculately pink and heaven-sent themselves. Somehow, those lips always seemed to be shining. And they always looked so soft.
So good.
So yummy.
It didn't ever matter what Gojo was doing. He literally looked perfect all the time without even trying. It always stunned you. But come on, you were much stronger than this - or at least you hoped, especially when realization hit that you had been staring for too long now. So in a fluster, your eyes darted from his plump lips to his blindfolded eyes.
"Satoru… come on! Really! You can't do this to me right now!"
If one thing was for certain, it was that Satoru Gojo loved to tease - and loved to tease you more than anyone. It went without saying the man was an expert at it. You were seated at your desk, scrawling away at some paperwork when Gojo nonchalantly waltzed right into the classroom. In a rather proud manner, he strode right over and took a seat on top of the desk. He flashed a cheeky smile (and perhaps a hungry gaze as well, but the blindfold made that difficult to determine). The way Gojo sat with such hubris, towering above you, was as if to make one thing apparent.
You were in for it.
And Gojo never let you go without a good fight. Plus, he was too clever and too fast. Always one step ahead.
For a moment, he stilled to study your frustrated state. He hummed in thought, tapping an index finger to his pink lips before a smirk upturned the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, I see!" he cooed, crossing one leg over the other, "You were looking right at my lips weren't you, sweetheart? I just meant a kiss on the cheek! You're so... bad."
Your cheeks went hot.
Why did Gojo have to talk like that? With the sexy lilt? The slight growl? His voice alone could make you a fumbling mess especially with the way he drawled out bad in such a tone. Gojo was practically the definition of alluring. He was that and so much more. He made flirting look way too effortless, and it amazed you how easily he could seduce you. Did Gojo know how easy it was? He surely must have. In this moment, you had never wanted to slink down your chair so badly in a fit of swooning (and maybe out of pure humiliation as well). How could you let Gojo catch you staring at those pretty lips of his?
It was no fair!
"I wonder," he tilted his head to the side, "how many times have you done that before?"
He was just so damn full of himself.
You gasped. Playfully, you slapped Gojo's arm with a wide smile etched across your face. So much for trying to look mad. Honestly, it was hard to. If you slipped up even for a second it would only fuel his ego further, but unfortunately that ship had already sailed long ago. It didn't help either when he snickered as soon as he registered your smile. He only grinned further, proudly sitting upright again.
"You are such a flirt, Satoru! Stop teasing me!"
"I can't! You're just too cute!" he purred before pausing in thought again, "Now - I found your car keys so don't I deserve a little reward?"
He revealed your car keys, proudly swirling the keyring around his index finger to tease you more.
"A reward? For stealing my keys?" You grinned haphazardly, stepping up from your seat.
In a futile attempt, you reached out to snatch them back. Quickly, Gojo enclosed his hand around the keys and uncrossed his legs to get the momentum he needed in order to lean back. In fact, it was so far back that you both misjudged the spacing between your bodies. Gojo chuckled when you whined at him to stop moving. You slapped your hand on the desk next to his thigh, sliding it past as you tried so desperately to gain balance. It was to no avail because you only leaned further when he pulled farther away.
You both froze.
A heat rose to your cheeks, and a dangerous smirk grew on Gojo's lips. You were perched right between his spread thighs, and he was nearly on his back if not for one hand holding him upright at an angle. If either of you had moved a tiny bit further, you most definitely would have slipped and landed headfirst onto him. The position was already suggestive enough, and the way your groins pressed together reminded you of the close proximity to this beauty of a man.
Gojo's voice was low and breathy, his smug tone so quiet in the air.
"Is this part of my reward?"
Smoothly, ever so smoothly, Gojo did the smallest roll of his hips against yours. Your breath caught in your chest at the heated pressure applied against your lower half. A fire spread throughout your body. His lips were so close you could almost taste his smirk. Immediately, when his hot breath fanned across your mouth again, you practically flung yourself against the nearest wall. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes bugged wide, and Gojo laughed wildly because your expression was beyond what he expected at this point.
"It's - it's not!"
Gojo then cackled, giving the keyring another taunting swirl around his finger as he sat up straight again.
How did this all happen?
Well, as usual you rushed into a staff meeting late and flung your belongings down without thought. So of course, for the umpteenth time, you threw a fit when you realized you could not find the damn car keys after the meeting ended. All because you weren't paying attention!
It never helped that Gojo was such an ass. Of course, he was always the one to find where they landed. And of course, he picked them up and clung to them like his life depended on it.
Usually.
Today he tried something a little different.
It was a whole ordeal. As soon as you walked into the room, Gojo flew up from his seat and glided over - exclaiming the meeting could not start until he got a hug from his most intelligent, wonderful, loving friend in the whole world. This overly affectionate display caught you and everyone by surprise. What an unneccessary interruption. A bit weird too, as quirky as he was. You carefully eyed Gojo because it all seemed a tad suspicious. More importantly, what did he want from you (because clearly there was some sort of ulterior motive from the compliments)? So based on everybody staring and you being blatantly late, you decided to just give him his hug and get the meeting on track. Just get it over with. No more embarrassment in front of colleagues, please. Without a care in the world, your arms wrapped around Gojo for his hug.
And then he snuck his hand right into your coat pocket to snatch your keys.
When he revealed them only a moment ago, that's when you knew this was another one of his little games. This time, the game being how to get a kiss from his most intelligent, wonderful, and loving friend in the whole world. God, he was lucky you were so… loving because loving people forgive their asshole friends, right?
"Then can I still get a kiss?"
Of course he said that next. In response to Gojo's question you pouted, giving a small grumble as the answer - no. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. It would never.
"Please? Just a little kiss. Riiiight here." he tapped his cheek, a smug smirk at his lips.
You irked an eyebrow at him.
"After that little stunt?"
"Oh, please, please!" he cried out so facetiously, dropping to his knees and hobbling over to you. Your eyes widened in shock, not expecting such dramatic behavior from the sorceror.
His hands grabbed your hips. He gave them a small shake whilst adorning an overly obvious smile. He could have nearly made you fall, but his playful gestures made you realize this was all just an over-the-top act. An attempt to butter you up by getting you to laugh. So you crossed your arms and boredly looked down at Gojo, fighting the urge to laugh. Gojo now had his arms flung around your waist, his chin pressed into your abdomen as he cutely gazed up at you in this hug.
A second more to think, and a teeny tiny smirk graced your features. Two could play at this game.
"Hm… the mighty Satoru Gojo on his knees?" you giggled, "Mmmm, I think I like that."
"Oh, you like it when I beg, huh?"
If only you had more time to think of a witty response. Shoot, he was damn good.
"…Maybe."
"Keep this up and that's not the only thing I can do that you'd like, sweetheart. Maybe later we'll switch places if you ask nicely."
Your jaw immediately dropped. As usual, Gojo got in the last word, and you had no idea how he kept winning.
"Satoru!"
"You know, I kind of like it when you're a brat."
"Oh, gah - please! At least you're having fun."
"You are too, sweetheart."
His smile never faltered, not even for a second, and his arms were still wrapped around your waist. An obvious pout was at your lips because he was right again. Gojo was flirty and fun, and you were enjoying this. A moment passed as you two just wordlessly stayed in place: a competition seeing who would break first.
Of course, you were the one to break first because you threw your head back and laughed. After all, Gojo was always pulling shit like this, and you always tried to pay him back in kind. He asked for kisses countless times. One thing you could not grasp was why did it catch you off guard every time? Why did it always feel like the first time he ever asked?
You also had to admit you loved indulging Gojo and giving in to his oddly charming ways. After all, he was an old friend. One of the closest friends you ever had especially when you both started off as sorcerers long ago. Oh, the stories you could tell about this man flirting with you. So what was a small kiss on the cheek between two old friends?
Unless.
You kept it up because you so badly desired to be more than friends. But what about him? And he kept asking for a kiss - so what did that mean from him? If only you could think straight. At least for the time being, you could indulge him and yourself. It was a harmless kiss on the cheek after all.
"Fine. But just this once!"
"That's what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before -"
"I could just leave! I'll walk home! Do you want it or not?"
"Ooooh yes, please! Very badly!"
"Then get your ass on my desk."
"Didn't know you were into that. Be gentle with me! Oh, should I bend over?"
"Just sit on it!"
As if your face couldn't burn any hotter than it already did. Gojo always made you break the record every time. It was surprising enough that you assumed it could never happen again.
He instantly jumped up (a bit too eagerly) and took a seat back on the desk. This was the easiest way because he was so damn tall. He hummed in response to your smirk, giving a cute little dance of his shoulders. Quite adorably, he leaned his cheek in for you to get a better reach - for him to finally claim his prize. A prize he won so many times. So you brushed your fingers very slowly and very sensuously along his jaw, gently cupping his face in your hand.
"Oh, you are making my heart race right now!"
Another gasp followed by a bashful grin, and you pulled away just as your lips were to touch his cheek.
"Stop it, you're embarrassing me!"
"Ugh, I love it when you whine! Does things to me!"
"Oh my god, Satoru! I am going home!" You released his face from your hands, about to storm off when the sorcerer grinned again.
Gojo firmly caught your wrist midwalk and effortlessly pulled you back toward him. You nearly tripped, forgetting how strong he was. When you were situated and facing him once again, you did a soft tug of your arm as a signal for the provocative man to let go. Gojo only pouted and pulled you again, but harder this time. And this time, you did end up tumbling into him as he caught you - staring at him angrily before you both broke out into laughter.
"Alright, alright! I'll be good!"
Gojo being good? Yeah, right. Could you really trust him to keep his word? You squinted your eyes at that, only to be met with Gojo beaming confidently which was your weakness.
So you let out a quick sigh before stroking the side of his face once more. You puckered your lips, slowly leaning in when -
Gojo turned his head quickly.
So so sooo very quickly.
In doing so, his lips touched yours in the most innocent of kisses. Just a small peck. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was so fast, and it stunned you nonetheless. A tiny smack noise from your lips meeting and parting echoed in your brain on replay. There was a delayed reaction on your part, save for your face heating up, because you stood there completely frozen as he adorned the biggest shit-eating grin.
All a part of Gojo's plan.
"Satoru!" you breathed, fighting an ever-so-obvious grin, "You… you naughty thing!"
Satoru Gojo was bold. It was always just a kiss on the cheek! He had never done that before. He cackled in response, twirling the keyring around his finger once more. Oh yes, and he still had not given those keys back.
"Naughty? That was nothing! Oh, we could get much naughtier next time. Prefer some tongue?"
Oh my god, was he serious?
The way you just stood in stupefied silence made him prattle on.
"No need to be shy now!"
Just when you thought he was done, he always went the extra mile. When he chuckled at your flustered expression and lack of response, he lowered his tone.
"Prefer something a little more than just kissing?"
226 notes · View notes
boysborntodie · 2 months
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I think that Johnnyboy’s potential to complicated and messy is criminally untapped in fanon. Ponyboy ‘fucking sucks at feelings, both his own and of others, and can be a bitch’ Curtis and Johnny ‘imperfect victim with shit self-esteem’ Cade would definitely have their ups and downs
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humbleanger · 1 year
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wishing it was all different but also not having the means or the bravery to change anything
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fifteensjukebox · 5 months
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coming out as stupid: there's an emily haines lyric where ive been mishearing what i assumed to be women - honestly the rest of line wasn't entirely words to me i hadn't bothered to check - it was winnin. the song is titled winning............
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rootbeerworshiper · 1 month
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anti-social
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: what matt was really doing instead of attending tara yummys party
warnings: smut!!! um car sex, p in v, thigh riding, dom!matt, not proofread
a/n: kinda ditched u guys for a week hopefully this makes up for it ily
love, sienna <3
parties were not your scene in any capacity.
it’s not like you’re overly introverted, but the pure chaos that comes with parties was never something that spoke to you—and oh my god getting hit on by a bunch of gross men added to your discernment towards the large, alcohol fuelled events.
this all being said, you’re also an influencer in LA and that comes with a territory that was unfamiliar to you when you first moved to the sunny state.
it’s difficult to get your name out there in a space filled with people just like you, people hungry for any form of relevance they can gather from their peers.
for whatever reason, influencer parties were a way to get yourself out there, creating more opportunity for youtube collaborations and just overall friendships.
real friends aren’t easy to come by out here, too many people becoming easily blinded by an amount of recognition and it’s easy to become fake—especially when you see friendships as transactional.
this was your least favourite part of LA, the part that was more different than anything else you’d experienced back home.
regardless of all the cons you could continue to list for LA parties, they were needed and encouraged by your manager, so you went, more often than you’d like to.
like tonight.
a few weeks ago one of your friends in the space, Tara, invited you to her one million celebration along with her birthday party and it’s not something you could pass up, so you RSVP’d instantly.
you first interacted with the girl when a few of your fans began telling you how funny of a duo you two would be together, and she dm’d you not long after.
she was real. amongst all the fake in this city she was very much herself, and she took you under her wing as you navigated this new lifestyle which you were eternally grateful for.
the one thing you did opt out of was going in the party bus to the party, if you were going to have a fun night you needed peace and calm right before you entered the chaotic headspace.
it takes a while for you to get ready, spending special time on your makeup and hair in order to present yourself properly—plus, it’s a tara yummy party, you sort’ve have to go all out.
you finish getting completely ready, giving yourself a moment to look in the mirror— it’s safe to say you feel stupid.
sporting a small dark red lace camisole and a black leather mini skirt along with chunky black boots that cut off just below your knee is completely out of character for you but that’s not necessarily a bad thing for a night like tonight.
if you stand here too long hyper analyzing the whole outfit you’ll inevitably change into something more you, so you’re quick to throw on an oversized leather jacket and head out of your apartment.
the uber ride is short lived because of the surprising lack of traffic littering the well lit streets.
soon enough you were at the venue, the loud music pouring through the small spaces in the door frame. you sigh, taking in one last moment of silence before opening the door and engulfing yourself in the complete chaos of a tara yummy party.
if the sound wasn’t overwhelming enough, the bright lights flashing throughout the space took the cake for what caused you the most grief.
it was a conscious decision to come pretty late, the later you come the less people are gonna ask why you’re not drinking, most of them distracted by the alcohol that pools in their kale-filled stomachs.
as you walk in you look around for familiar faces but struggle to see anyone you actually know, opting to grab a soda and lean against a random wall—people watching was a skill that definitely came easy to you.
drunk people were annoying to an extent, sure, but part of you envied the care free nature of it all, and as long as they weren’t pressuring you to take shots you actually preferred it to completely sober interactions.
its hard to hear anything in this environment, screams and music fully encapsulating your body, but soon enough you hear a mumble to your left.
you immediately turn your head, detaching the drink from your lips to look at the figure who’s standing next to you.
you’re sure you’ve seen him before, but the lack of proper lighting or a name to the face leaves you lost for a real identity.
“sorry what did you say?” you yell over the music, leaning in slightly to the boy next to you, your ears now focused on whatever words may leave his mouth.
he leans in too. “is that a rootbeer?” he inquires and a smile forms on your face.
part of you was worried his only plan was to hit on you, or make fun of you for something out of your control, but the innocence of the question was endearing. “it is, it’s my favourite drink ever, i could have so many and never get sick of it”
he smiles, sipping on his drink that looks all too familiar. “mine too. how do you know tara?” he yells again.
“i met her a few months ago for a collab and we just sorta clicked, im not too good at the whole influencer thing” you laugh a little to yourself at your self deprecating humour. “what about you? you look familiar”
“i only met her a few days ago, me and my brothers do youtube and everyone wanted a collab so we’ve just been hanging out” he replies, fingernails making their way in between his lips.
“oh fun! i’m y/n by the way” you reach your hand out to shake his.
it’s hard to ignore the tension that forms from a simple handshake. “Matt” he says simply, introducing himself.
you’re hands linger for a moment longer before you remind yourself to pull away from his grasp.
his eyes take a moment to dart down at your silhouette taking in the sight of you as your own gaze focuses on your surroundings, completely oblivious to the way Matt’s licking his lips—he can’t think about anything else but you.
the random girl he saw standing alone at a party filled with annoying people holding up camera, holding his favourite drink. “so are you from here?” he says, breaking open the tension.
you let out a small sigh of relief, it was always easier for you to talk to people that carried the conversation, especially when they look as good as he does. “no i just moved here a little less than a year ago?” you question momentarily to yourself. “i’m from Boston”
his eyes widen at your statement. “no way, me too” he smiles, running his ring covered hand through his hair.
it’s impossible not to stare at least a little bit, his fingers could genuinely put you in a trance—how good you’re sure he is with them, how much of your throat they could cover-
you can’t get ahead of yourself, these are thoughts you need to keep in the comfort of your own home.
“do you wanna give me your number? maybe we could continue this conversation when we can actually hear each other?” you ask, a sudden boldness coursing through your veins.
“sure id like that” he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, but before he can even hand it to you a familiar hand is dragging you into the crowd.
“you need to loosen up y/n its a tara yummy party cmonnnn” tara groans, fully encapsulating you in dancing bodies before you can even look back at Matt.
you shake it off, forgetting about the cute boy and refocusing on not looking like an idiot in front of so many people.
dancing is definitely a lot easier when you realize no one cares what you’re doing, and when you like the song that’s playing.
so you let loose as tara suggested, arms swaying in the air while you grin looking at your friend, your hands taking turns groping your sides as your hips move to the rhythm of the music.
for once you feel confident, hot even.
not a care in the world because it’s just you—and the brunette boy who’s leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, entranced in your dancing without your knowledge.
you’re actually having fun, singing along to numerous songs on the dance floor alongside influencers who are all wasted out of their minds.
for a moment, through the loud music and the abundance of shining lights you feel a hand place itself on your lower back with a sense of firmness that made you shutter.
before you can even fully turn around, you establish that it’s Matt’s hand based on the way he leans into your neck, speaking in your ear. “back doors in 5” he walks away, his fingers lingering on your bare back longer than you knew what to do with.
what changed?
Matt was a cute nervous guy who loves rootbeer and now he’s whispering your ears and turning you on without even looking at you.
you watch him walk away, joining the mess of a crowd and getting completely lost out of your sight.
5 minutes.
you just have to act completely normal for five more minutes and then your casually meeting up with some guy you just met.
this kinda thing usually fills your stomach with anxiety and fear of the unknown, but right now? you’re more excited than you’ve ever been.
thoughts of Matt flooded your brain and soon enough the five minutes were up, it’s safe to say you walked through the crowd a little faster than normal, eager to see what the boy had in store.
after what feels like forever you get to the back door, the brunette no where to be seen.
you feel like an idiot, getting your hopes up for some youtuber who probably just had fun messing with your innocence, toying with it like a fucking slinky.
after what you consider to be a desperate amount of waiting at the door you give up, the last thing you are is a lost puppy awaiting its owner’s arrival.
you let out a small sigh of disappointment, trying to ignore the lump in your throat that forms as you make your way back into the crowd.
before you get far, you bump into someone who’s practically running through the open space cluttered with people dancing, a light sting entering your shoulder. “what the fuck is your problem?” you say, a little more pissed off after you got stranded.
this is until you make eye contact with the body you collided with, a familiar set of blue eyes looking down at you. “i’m sorry i was coming i swear but Chris needed me for something and-“
“you’re okay, i just thought you left me” you smile grabbing his shoulders to stabilize his rapid thoughts that are clearly over taking him.
he lets out a breath of air, smiling back at you but still licking his lips with a sense of hunger that made you melt beneath his gaze.
“let’s go, yeah?” he places his hand in your own and begins to lead you out of the venue. in all actuality you shouldn’t be leaving with him, but he’s hot and he’s kind and the way his voice puts you in a trance has you needing him in ways unfathomable.
it’s a short walk to outside but you immediately feel better with the fresh air entering your lungs, your chest expanding the moment you leave the sweaty party space.
Matt seemed to feel the same relief, you can also see him a lot better now, the street lights illuminating his face making you realize just how attractive he is.
you weren’t even entirely sure what his plans were, but being anywhere but that party was all you needed. “i hate parties so much” you say, beginning to walk along the sidewalk, most likely walking to his car parked somewhere on the street.
“me too, my brothers are always convincing me to go to them but it’s actually my worst nightmare” he replies, hands placed in his pockets as you walk.
“how many brothers do you have?” you ask.
he smiles, as if the mere thought of his family was enough to bring him joy. “i have three but i’m a triplet actually”
“no way!” you grab ahold of his shoulder, an excited habit of yours that you haven’t been able to kick. “that’s so fun i wish”
he presses the key fob latched onto his jeans by a clip and you see an suv unlock ahead of you as you walk, its lights brightening up the space around the vehicle.
you open the door to the passenger seat, the boy walking around to enter the driver seat. “do you have anywhere you wanna go?” he asks, looking at you as you buckle your seat belt.
“anywheres fine with me i just could not be at that party any more” you reply, now fully situated and earning a nod from Matt.
it’s tight street parking and it definitely will not be easy for him to pull out, but he turns on music, mac miller now playing softly through the speaker as he reaches his arm back behind your seat to back out.
you try to focus on anything else, but the way his hand grips the gear causing his veins to become more defined has you shifting in your seat, subconsciously trying to relieve the tension forming between your legs. “i like your rings” you say shyly, failing to mention the ways you want to feel the cold metal inside of you.
“yeah?” what you don’t know is the way his pants are straining from the sight of your plush thighs squeezing together on his leather seats, how badly he wants to be in between them. “i like em too”
you cough, trying to mask the way his words made you feel. “how come you don’t like parties?”
he checks over his shoulder, changing lanes before turning into a park parking lot. “i’m a little anti social when it comes to that kinda stuff”
“just social with me then?” you ask, hoping to keep this conversation going in the right direction.
he scoffs with a smile on his face, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs slightly as he makes himself comfortable. “yeah just you”
it’s silent for a second, you let different responses to matt’s words linger in your head before finally speaking, your own seat belt now unbuckled as well. “what made me so approachable?” you lean into him slightly, placing your elbow on the centre console and holding your chin up by your hand.
he holds your eye contact, leaning in slightly closer. “well at first it was your smile” he lifts his hand to trace along your jaw, you immediately swallow the lump in your throat.
“then it was how you look in that skirt” his hand makes its way to your hair, fingers grazing your scalp as he mumbles.
“and then” he leans in now, lips aligned with your ear. “it was the way your hands traced over your own body, how desperately you wanted me to see you like that, how desperately i wanted those hands to be mine” his left hand grazes over your bare leg, lightly swaying it back and forth causing you to shiver.
he doesn’t break eye contact once. “Matt please” you beg, not specifying what it is that you need from him.
“what do you want?” his lips make contact with your neck, placing soft kisses along every sensitive spot. you bite your lip to drown out any pathetic whimpers that threaten to leave your mouth, the sensation of the neck kisses alone have you soaked.
you breath pretty heavily, focused on the way his cold rings threaten to make their way to your inner thighs as he speaks. “i want-“ his thumb places a teasing pressure to your clothed aching clit. “i want those hands to be yours”
“there you go, wasn’t so hard was it?” he teases, your legs spreading apart subconsciously, your core begging to be touched.
but he continues his slow movements, his mouth now working its way to your bare collarbone, your back arching into his delicate touch.
before his lips can make their way to you chest you stop him, your finger interfering with his actions, guiding his face up to yours. “kiss me please” you whisper, begging for a sense of intimacy and innocence.
he smiles, breaking his tough guy persona slightly as he leans in to meet his lips to yours. somehow, although you were strangers a mere hour ago, it feels comfortable.
the comfort switches to passion quickly, his hand squeezing your thigh as your tongue slides into his mouth.
it’s short lived before he’s leaning out of the kiss and moving his seat back in one motion, legs spread with room for you on top. he motions for you to come over but for whatever reason your mentally stuck in your seat, frozen in fear at the realization of what’s happening.
“don’t act all shy now baby c’mere” his hands place a light pressure to the sides of your hips guiding you over the console and onto his thigh.
you look down at him, smiling like a goof because you’re on top of a hot boy in a parking lot. “hi”
your arms find solitude on his shoulder to balance yourself, his hands still on your hips as his thigh bone has you weak on top of him.
he keeps one hand on your lower back, the other reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fully taking in the sight above him. “you’re so beautiful”
your eyes widen at the sentence, taking compliments was never easy for you especially not in this setting. “okay stop” you push him slightly, breaking eye contact to avoid getting flustered.
he turns your chin forcing you to look at him again, leaning into your face. “you are beautiful” he kisses you before you can even deny it. his fingers are quick to toy with the hem of your small shirt, the same shirt that had his mouth watering earlier—the same shirt your delicate fingers ran over as you danced.
“lift” he mumbles, causing you to lift up your arms without a second thought, completely forgetting that you made the decision to not wear a bra tonight.
the look in his eyes is one of pure hunger, your chest displayed right in his eye-line, it takes everything in him to fight back a small moan from the sight alone.
he places a few more teasing kisses along your collarbone while his hands make small circles on your exposed chest. “are you gonna use me to get yourself off pretty girl?” he asks, now taking on hand to guide your hips, rocking them on his thigh with a smirk on his face.
you just nod, too embarrassed to say the words out loud and his mouth immediately makes contact with your left nipple, using the tip of his tongue to lap around the bud. without further hesitation you begin to grind your hips into his leg, his hands now pulling up your skirt lightly to allow more movement.
the consistent pressure of his upper thigh on your clothed clit has you hiding your face in the crook of his neck, not wanting him to see your face as it’s riddled with looks of pleasure.
his hand continues to guide your hips onto him, your fingers interlaced in his hair as let you out muffled moans into his neck. his lips can’t help but form a smirk as the pace of your hips increases, the pleasure building in your stomach at the continues sensation. “such a fucking slut for me, getting off on some strangers thigh” he mumbles, his hands grabbing your ass, squeezing it under the skirt.
you squeeze your legs around his thigh, body chasing more pressure as the pleasure continues to roll through your hips. at this point your a moaning mess, as embarrassed as you are you physically can’t hold back. “mmh fuck matt”
the whiny words leaving your mouth have an effect on his that he wasn’t expecting, his length only increasing at the sound of your noises. he shifts you up slightly, selfishly placing your clothed core on his own center, the buldge giving you something to grind on. “fuck just like that there you go”
he fights back his own moans, still using his hands to force you closer on to him, your pace going faster as a familiar throbbing in your clit signals your closeness. “i’m-“ you let out yet another moan. “close”
Matt lifts his hips slightly, his bulge hitting you exactly where you needed, your legs squeezing around him as you reach you high, his hands not stopping the motion once as your fingers pull on his hair. “okay okay” you sigh, out of breath and exhausted.
you kiss him again, it’s safe to say you’re addicted to it and he definitely does not mind, what he doesn’t expect though is your hand that cups his bulge mid kiss, causing his open to open slightly, unable to kiss you back at the sensation of your hand on him. “fuck don’t tease me baby”
you giggle slightly at how easily you were able to make him fold. “you gonna ride me or what?”
you don’t even answer, instead your lips find comfort in kissing his neck while his hands make their way back to your chest, your nipples completely hardened above him, his hot breath making you squirm under his closeness.
he takes his shirt off and you can’t help but stare for a moment, the vast amount of tattoos are a turn on you didn’t know applied to you. “stop staring and do something” he demands, causing you to unbutton his pants and slide the down slightly, just enough to spring his length free.
you waste no time spreading the pre cum on his tip causing him to shutter slightly. “cmon baby you know what to do”
deep down you know you could give in, you know you could immediately sink onto him and give him what he wants—but that’s no fun.
so instead you time your time, running his tip along your underwear so that you can still receive a small amount of pleasure from your teasing, licking a stripe along his jaw.
what you weren’t expecting was Matt’s hand interfering, sliding your underwear to the side and immediately inserting himself into your center, thrusting upwards without giving you a chance to adjust. “if you’re gonna act like a brat you’re gonna get fucked like one”
you can even mumble out a reply, the feeling of his length hitting your g-spot repeatedly at a speed you have yet to experience has you practically biting his shoulder, squeezing onto his sides as his pace doesn’t let once.
the sight of your tits bouncing up and down with every thrust is enough to make Matt crazy, and the combination of your moans, he could be here like this forever—but he can’t because the way you rolled your hips on his clothed dick already almost made him cum, and him inside of you? he won’t last.
you’re close too but still unable to speak coherent sentences, Matt’s hand sliding down in between your bodies to play with you clit while his thrusts continue.
you are fucked out of your mind to say the very least, eyes rolled back, toes circling, just gone.
lifting your head, you make eye contact with him, the sight of his face that’s currently lost in pleasure is enough to send you over the edge, his fingers still gliding along your puffy clit as he fills you up.
this time he’s the one leaning in for a kiss. “you’re amazing” he mumbles, fully encapsulating your lips with his own once more.
it’s peaceful like this for a moment, soft kisses being shared back and forth, music still playing through the speakers—this is until you hear a phone ring.
Matt’s getting a facetime call. “fuck” he mutters, reaching for his phone to see his brothers contact photo. “just be quiet please?” you nod, smiling slightly.
he answers the call for a quick moment, a camera on the other end pointing at his face temporarily. he simply assures his brothers that he’ll be back to pick them up and he hangs up as soon as possible. “sorry” he leans into your neck, kissing softly.
you just laugh in return. “it’s okay we did kinda ditch everyone”
“i’d do it again in a heart beat” he smiles into you, completely let go of his intense demeanour from earlier.
you trace small lines on his chest, his hands laying softly on your sides. “i still need your number” you mumble, biting your lip as you look at the boy.
“you think?” he teases, grabbing his phone and going to the phone app.
“fuck off Matt”
a/n: i cannot end fics for the life of me and im too lazy to proofread this! @luv4kozume respectfully it’s time for you to write❤️
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @lacysturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss
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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months
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any advice about how to deal with posting a fic and getting radio silence? I know ppl aren’t owed engagement ofc, but I feel embarrassed at having spent so long on something no one cares about, and although I liked thinking about the characters and fandom before (and was considering writing more about them), now I can’t think about it without feeling that overpowering embarrassment 😭 part of me wants to delete the fic, but that would mean having to open ao3 and look at it again LMAO
sorry for the venting, I know this is probably a me problem, but has anyone else felt this, and if so, is there any way to make this pervasive shame go away??
*hugs* This is a very painful thing to experience and there isn't really any way to make it just go away, unfortunately. However, you can reflect on it a bit, when you're ready to.
Writing and posting are separate activities. If you've enjoyed writing the story but you haven't enjoyed posting it to the Archive, you can always continue writing just for yourself. This may or may not be something you'd enjoy - you know better than I do whether some of your enjoyment came from the anticipation of a reaction to your work.
Try to analyze where your embarrassment is coming from. Is it worrying that your story was poorly written? A lack of a reaction doesn't mean that the story is bad. Being unpopular doesn't mean it's bad, either. If your story is good to you, then it's a good story.
Is your embarrassment from feeling like you were "caught trying." Is it a cringe at the idea that you put effort into something that someone else doesn't (appear to) find valuable?
Is it actually embarrassment at all? Are you feeling a different kind of hurt instead? Did you hope that someone in particular would read your story and now you feel ignored? Did you hope to be embraced by your community and now you feel shunned?
These are difficult questions that I'm asking and you might not want to think about them right now. That's okay. You don't need to if you don't want to. You can definitely delete the fic and pretend it never happened. Or you can log out of that AO3 account and create a new one and never look back. Maybe you just need to take a week or a month off for a hiatus of sorts and when the ache isn't as bad, you'll be able to face it all again.
When I felt this way, it was because I felt like I'd put something into my community and that I'd been ignored. But since that time, I've found one person who gives me all of the community support I used to get from an entire fandom, and now when I post something on AO3 I don't actually need a response anymore. I get all of the fun and excitement and validation etc from my conversations and RP threads with my best friend.
Once you've got a little distance from the pain of this moment, try to figure out what it is that you were hoping to get and then figure out how you can get it. Maybe it's through posting fic to AO3, but maybe it's not.
Let's see what others can suggest. This is not something you're experiencing alone, anon. So very many of your fellow fan writers have experienced this too ❤️
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malkaviian · 1 year
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now that i've developed maverick a bit more, i have to think about how he was before the whole incident with zachary.
#as i said his brain did a complete change to deal with everything that happened; including killing zachary#after having his dead body in his house for hours he started to connect the dots of the situation he was in for months. he couldnt believe#it truly was zachary; the cheerful; perfect student everyone loved; who stalked him to the point he was terrified for his life#and that made him stop going to college because he was too scared to leave his house. but at the same he was scared to stay in his house#since his stalker knew where he lived; and they could just attack at any moment. man he wasnt even that close to zachary#he doesnt understand what happened for him to get that obsessed over him. but it was over. he killed him after he tried to murder him first#so that was it. but before he started to freak out over the possibility of going to prison for murdering someone#he just... changed. he turned into a totally different person; with his old personality completely dying and... well#replacing it with no actual personality besides someone obsessive who adapts to whatever his current beloved likes the most#and likes to pretend 'innocence' so his beloved would be quick to trust him. he wouldnt hurt a fly :)#and while the whole stalking was happening he turned into an anxious mess who would break down very easily and was generally very fragile#so... before that; i think he was probably trusting of people; maybe a bit too trusting. he was very shy#which made it difficult to make friends; but tried his best to be social and do it anyway. so it turned into trusting people easily#and anything slightly weird was assumed to be his mind playing tricks... which is why probably he didnt notice sooner who his stalker was#i mean; zachary was great at pretending; but he did started to get more 'protective' when the stalking started; when they werent that close#but it must have been because he was worried like the rest of their classmates! and after all he was the definition of a perfect person.#it would make sense for someone as good and caring as him to feel the need to protect a sort-of-friend; right? nothing bad; really.#he would also try his best to help someone if they were in that horrible situation anyway#i imagine he also had a slightly low self-esteem; but not to the worrying point. mostly because of his own shyness#alongside friendships; he didnt really that much luck with love in the past. but tried to stay positive and think he would find someone#and yeah; he was someone who tried to see the bright side of things; in a healthy amount. but that didnt really worked while being stalked#if someone left him gifts on his desk in college; that would be one thing. he may as well thought it was sweet in a 'secret admirer' way#but this person literally started to leave gifts on the door of his fucking house; when he never told anyone on college where he lived#and he was already out of touch with the few friends he had in high school + they were no longer his friends. so yeah#even he couldnt ignore that wasnt good or sweet; it was a real problem regardless of how much he couldve liked the gifts in another context#let alone when the goddamn love letters started. he could receive multiple in a day; he even got 15 in a single day#it couldnt be justified at all; and it made his already growing fear even worse.#so basically: he was a person who tried his best to do better; but someone had to ruin it. thanks; zachary /j#oc talk
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quin-ns · 1 year
Text
Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 1.7K
Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his
Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun
A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.
What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?
Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.
You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.
You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.
If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.
Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.
Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.
You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—
“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.
You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”
You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”
Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.
“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.
“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”
“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.
It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”
Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.
“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.
The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.
“If you’re against sharing with me.”
So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.
“I’m not.”
All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.
“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.
“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”
You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”
“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”
“For you maybe.”
“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
The sudden apology confused you. “What?”
“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.
“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.
“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”
A wave of realization crashed over you.
You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.
“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.
“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.
Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.
“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.
There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.
Not that you minded.
His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner
Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.
But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.
“You need sleep,” he reminded you.
Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…
So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.
“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.
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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months
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Lessons in Love
(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)
Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader
Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.
word count: 3.3k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.
It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.
Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.
Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)
But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.
“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.
Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.
“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”
You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.
“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.
“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.
Enzo’s face falls at this.
“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.
“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,” you reply with exasperation.
He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.
“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.
“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.
“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.
“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.
Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.
“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.
You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.
The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.
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You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.
“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.
This putrid, skanky little-
“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“
A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.
“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.
The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.
“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.
Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.
“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.
You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.
“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.
Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.
“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”
Theo takes another step forward.
“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.
“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.
“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?
Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.
“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.
“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.
“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.
He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.
“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.
Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.
“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?
“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.
You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.
“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.
“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.
You feel yourself cringe.
“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”
“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.
“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.
Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.
“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.
Theo scowls at the nickname.
“Campfire.”
“Old parchment.” You say in unison.
Pansy smirks.
“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”
Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.
“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.
Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.
“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,
“This is entirely your fault.”
Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.
“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.
“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”
Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.
“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.
“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.
“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”
Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.
“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.
You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.
“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.
Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.
“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.
The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.
“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.
The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.
“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.
“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.
Theo only raises a brow at you.
“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.
Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.
“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.
“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.
He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.
“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.
“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”
“And Daphne’s shampoo.”
You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.
“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.
You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.
“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.
“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.
Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.
“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.
You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.
“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.
“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.
Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.
“Better?”
You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.
“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.
“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”
You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.
“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.
“One kiss.”
He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.
An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.
“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”
You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.
“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.
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tacticaldiary · 10 months
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Can you write something about Simon being a little to rough with reader and they end up having bad bruises so they hide it from Simon and when he finds out he goes a little crazy and won’t touch them until reader snaps and tells him they need his touch
Painless Bruises
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
It really wasn't a massive deal, but she knows Simon would withdraw if he saw the evidence he left behind on her.
Masterlist
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It's almost as if the day had a personal grudge against her, bringing along the hottest day of the year the one time she has to wear something unsuitable for the weather.
She itches the skin of her neck that's not covered by her black turtleneck, the long sleeves of the shirt sticking uncomfortably to her skin as she runs laps around the training centre.
Bruises.
Hand shaped bruises circle her forearms, a deep set shade of purple, and a particularly nasty one lines her collarbone, just under the juncture of the slope of her shoulder.
Thankfully she can blame the heat that creeps up her face at the thought of how she got them on the intense cardio they were doing. They were set to be dropped off in Serbia for a mission in 6 days, so the 141 was busy preparing for clearing their physical evaluations before they were dispatched.
Skin against lips, and the rustling of sheets last night. Simon had just gotten back from a solo mission somewhere up north and they hadn't seen each other in over a fortnight. Needless to say, when they did get a moment alone in his room last night things had gotten a little more intense than usual.
Rough, calloused hands held her arms in place, heavy breaths and feelings that could not be put into words exchanged under the light of the moon. She hadn't minded his grip, it had just surprised her. Simon was not a gentle person by any means, rough around the edges and as standoffish as the definition could get, but he had never been harsh enough with her for the evidence to linger into the daylight.
When she'd woken up the next day, catching sight of her arms, guilt pooled in her gut. She didn't mind it, it's not like they hurt particularly bad, but she knew if Simon saw them he'd withdraw.
It was an instinctual feeling, but she knows she's right. Simon had...a difficult past, one he rarely shared with her but she'd heard enough to know that he'd never want to hurt the people he loved.
She was afraid that bruises inflicted by him, especially ones as ugly as these, would make him blank and pull away, or even worse: treat her like she's fragile.
She didn't want a gentle Simon, she wanted him in all his brash, rough glory.
"Come on Gaz, the lass is running circles around you!" Soap heckles as she passes him by. She can't help but stifle a snort when she hears Gaz yell back an insult, a good few paces behind her. Ghost was standing next to Soap, watching the pair finish their last lap. His eyes follow her, bore into her as she passes. Him staring quietly is nothing new, but she can feel the questions from his gaze from halfway across the room.
She'd slipped out of his room before he'd woken up, and had forgone meeting him in the mess hall for breakfast to figure out how exactly she was going to hide the marks from him.
Slowing down after her last lap, she plops down on the ground with a sigh, gulps down the water bottle Soap pushes in her hands, the cool water a nice reprieve from the sweltering heat and sweat. Going to tug her turtleneck away to let some air hit her throat, her fingers freeze on the fabric when she feels Ghost's gaze on her again. Slowly lowering her hand, she clears her throat and turns her attention to Soap and Gaz bickering.
"You've got a big mouth for someone who can't outrun me either, MacTavish." She snickers, making Gaz grin.
"We're both in second place, mate." The man laughs, clapping Soap on the shoulder before offering a hand to pull her up. She accepts gratefully, feeling her legs burn pleasantly from the exercise.
She doesn't anticipate Gaz grabbing her forearm to pull her up. He grips right over her bruises and tugs her to her feet. It's just her luck that she can't manage to swallow down the strangled, muffled sound of pain in the back of her throat.
"You alright there?" Gaz lets go of her, brows furrowing. Ghost seems to have moved closer, ever the silent person.
"Fine." She swallow, her arm stinging. "Just...got a stitch in my side." Waving off the grimace Soap gives her, she's about to move on, ask if any of them would want to hit the bar with her after this, when a gruff, low voice speaks up.
"Roll them up."
She blinks, her stomach twisting as she turns to look at her Lieutenant.
"I'm fine, Ghost-"
"I didn't ask." He cuts her off. "If you're injured, better to get it fixed than ignore it."
"Good thing I'm not injured then." She offers him a smile. The other two boys glance at each other.
"Sergeant." There's a sense of finality in his tone, from which she knows it's an order. Meeting his eyes, she silently pleads with him to change his mind, a staring contest with a brick wall. Resigning herself to her fate, she relents, taking a deep breath and gingerly rolling up her sleeves to her elbows.
The sharp hitch of Simon's breath is only apparent to her after months of leaning the tiny quirks of his body.
"Steamin' Jesus, how'd you mangle that up so bad?" Soap exclaims, grabbing her hand and turning it this way and that. Gaz whistled low, eyes narrowing.
"That's some nasty bruising " Gaz frowns. "You sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine." She snatches back her arm, shoving her sleeves back down. "Not as bad as it looks, trust me." Avoiding Simon's gaze is harder than it's ever been, but she chances a split second peek at his expression.
His eyes are the only part of his face visible, but they've always been the most expressive part of him if one knows his quirks. Right now? Right now Simon has the same look he sported when that building came down on Soap after one of his explosions malfunctioned from being rigged incorrectly.
Upset and muted horror. She can tell his brows are knitted tight under his mask, his jaw clenched because he knows.
"Medbay, now." Is all Ghost says, a hand on her shoulder leading her away from the group. Her protests fall on deaf ears as they exit the room, the others not questioning their Lieutenant.
The walk down the hallway is suffocating, and Simon's grip immediately retracts once they're outside. He takes a left down the hall and she hesitantly follows.
The medbay is to the right.
The barracks are secluded this time of the day, everyone out and about, so it's the perfect place to have this discussion. Not that she wanted to have it in the first place...
"Want to explain why you didn't tell me?" Is the first thing he says. He sounds angry, and only the most seasoned of his partners would recognise the edge of concern in his voice. "You think hiding something like that was a good idea?"
"I wasn't hiding it, I just-"
"Bullshit. I hurt you." He states, a flash of pain quicker than she can catch in his eyes. "Why didn't you say?"
"Because it's fine, Simon!" She exclaims, grabbing his arms, hoping he understands. "You didn't hurt me, we just...got a little carried away. It's alright, they don't hurt bad."
"I was too rough with you." A slightly strained voice that tugs at her heart. "Fuck, I'm sorry." The apology spilled out of his mouth unprompted, and for a moment she's left shocked because he's the last person to apologise for something unless absolutely necessary.
Which means he really believes he did something terrible.
"I forgive you." She says immediately. "There, problem solved, right?"
"No, that's not how this shit works." Simon clutches onto the back of his neck, agitated at himself. "I didn't...fuck, I didn't mean to..." Something dawns on him and he meets her eyes with a newfound sense of dread. "Where else?"
Her pause is enough to give him his answer.
"Show me." He demands.
"Simon-"
"Take it off." He tugs at the bottom of her shirt. His fingers never brush against her skin.
Taking a deep breath and seeing no way out of this, she lets her shoulder sag and concedes, shrugging off the turtleneck and leaving her in a short sleeved undershirt. His eyes snap to the bruising on her collarbone, his jaw tightening.
"Don't apologise again." She says when he opens his mouth to talk. "I'm not fucking fragile, Simon. I can take a hit or two, this is nothing."
It's the wrong thing to say, the worst thing to say judging by the way Simon instantly recoils, taking a step back at her words.
"I'd never hurt you on purpose. Never." He says quietly.
Ghost is a silent person. His footsteps never detected, melting in the shadows and slitting throats before anyone realises he's even there.
But he's not quiet. Never quiet. Never with her, at least.
"I know." She soothes, moving to close the distance but pausing when he shakes his head. "I worded that badly..."
"I wouldn't...I'm not-"
"You're nothing like your father." She states, pulling the words out to lay out for the both of them. "I trust you, Simon. I trust you every day with my life on the field, and my heart in our bedroom." She gestures to her bruises. "I don't blame you for any of this. The both of us were too occupied to pay attention to be considerate and hell, I liked it."
At his skeptical look, she continues on. "If it makes you feel better, the day you lay a hand on me is the day I beat your ass into the ground."
"I'd let you." He says gruffly, straightening up slowly.
Gently, he takes her hand, turning it over to bare her forearms. Gently brushing a thumb over the purple and blue, his eyes flicker to her face to scan for any discomfort. When he finds none, he directs his gaze back to the bruising, his mind somewhere else.
She lets him have a few moments of silence, knowing full well that this wouldn't be the end of this.
"I'm sorry." He says again, gently brushing his fingers over her collarbone. "Won't happen again, love."
                                · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  
Their quick, secret touches throughout the day had always sparked her to life.
Whether that be a gentle brush of their arms while they walked down the hall, or a quick squeeze of a shoulder after a harsh day of training. Inconspicuous touches that carried more meaning to them that met the eye.
She can count on one hand how many times Simon has touched her over the past three days, even if four of her fingers were blown off.
It's frustrating. Always busy, never standing within the length to reach out and touch, always out of his room when she'd knocked and peered in at night. He'd redirect her whenever she tried to initiate anything, even a friendly hug. Once he'd legitimately stepped away from her, and she's not going to lie, but it stung a little.
Needless to say, she was itching to corner him.
As she waits outside the meeting room where he currently is with Price, she thinks about how she knew this would happen. She knew he'd withdraw and refuse to be near enough to touch her properly, and it's driving her up the wall because godammit she misses him.
He knows he's fucked the second he walks out, pinned with a glare that promises consequences if he doesn't follow her. With a quiet sigh, he trails behind her until they're in her room, the door clicking shut behind them.
"Did you need something, love?"
"Funny you should ask." She deadpans. "You drive me insane sometimes, you know that Simon Riley?"
It's a little funny how he straightens up with the use of his full name, more at attention. She'd have poked fun at him in she hadn't been as angry.
"Do you think I'm fragile, Simon?" She snaps. "That I'll break if you breathe on me? You've been practically ignoring me for three days, pulling away. Walking away." When she strides closer to him, he doesn't move back. "And I swear to all that is holy, if you don't stop with this bullshit, I'm going to well and truly snap."
A pause.
"Well, someone sounds desperate." The poor attempt at deflection makes her even angrier. She grabs his hands, guides them to her shoulders and squeezes hard. He lets her, watching quietly.
Quiet. God, she hates it when he's quiet.
"Touch me. Just...you won't hurt me, Simon." She sighs at the feeling of his hands on her, burning even through her shirt. "You know you won't, you're just afraid."
"Not afraid." He grunts, curling his fingers around her shoulder, something she considers a small win. She can feel his hands twitch with the desire to abandon his self control and pull her closer. It almost makes her smile to think the distance is impacting him just as much.
"Then what?"
"Just...wary."
"Well stop it, then." She huffs. "I need you, Simon. I can't go about my day knowing that my damn boyfriend won't touch me because he think I'm fine china."
"You're one of the best soldiers." He rolls his eyes. "You and I both know you're anything but breakable."
"Then quit acting like a selfless asshole and-" She cuts herself off with a gasp when his hands slide to her waist, pulling her into his body. Warm and all encompassing, her blood sings at the contact after so long.
"This is what you wanted?" He hums, finally conceding. She shivers, feeling his chest rumble under her cheek.
"Yes." She sighs. "See, wasn't so hard, was it?"
He doesn't answer for a moment, the both of them taking a second to settle back down into their skins, feeling the familiar press of dips and curves pressed against each other. She rests her cheek against his chest, hands coming up to grab onto his back.
"I'm alright, Simon." She whispers. "We're both okay."
His grip tightening around her like it usually does is the only answer she needs, the press of his lips onto her head through his mask making her sigh contentedly.
This.
This was more than okay.
Requests Are Open!
(03/07/2023)
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art · 6 months
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Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel
Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.
Below is our interview with Deb!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.
Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!
What are your file name conventions?
…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 
What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?
Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.
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messylustt · 10 months
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I really like your stories, and I had an idea. I wanted to ask you if you could write a story where for some reason some of the Spiderman, like Gwen, Hobie, Miles, Peter P. With Mayday, Pavitr, Y/n and Miguel must take a car and Y/n has to sit on top of Miguel because there is no space left, Hobie is driving and he takes a lot of potholes, so Y/n bounces a lot on Miguel and he gets hard, so you know.. it's kind of difficult for them. If you know what I mean.
If it's not a problem thank you in advance 💞 anyway don't worry 🕷️🕸️
bumpy ride — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). longer name. stuck on miguel’s lap in a car.
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“a car?” miguel asks, staring at hobie who's leaning against an old fashioned plymouth barracuda. “mhm,” hobie hums, raising his brows with a smirk. “why can't we just...you know...web sling to the evil guy?” peter asks, watching as miles walks up to hobie and the car clearly already fine with the idea. hobie pats miles shoulder, pleased. “come on...we're tryna be subtle.”
“and you think...” gwen gazes around at everyone. “...like, seven spider-people driving in a car is subtle?”
“eight.” hobie gestures to mayday who's hanging upside down in the baby strap attached to peter. miguel sighs. “we don't have time for this. just get in the car.” he begrudgingly walks towards it, making hobie's smirk widen. “where did you even find it?” you ask, beginning to step closer as well. “he probably stole it." whispered pavitr, as he walks beside you. you hold back an amused smile at this.
“nah, i di'n't steal it, mate.” hobie says, eyeing you both as everyone began to find seats. “i've always been a good cit'izen.” he watches as pavitr slips into the back, scoffing. you raise your brows at hobie, you seeming to be the last one to get in. “and you're definitely not someone who changes their personality 24/7. just for the fun of it.”
hobie shakes his head, that bloody side smile still present. “oh, i luv stayin' consistent, babe.”
liar.
when you opened the car door, looking in for room you realise that all the seats are full, gwen in the passenger seat (miguel having claimed that he really didn't want to see hobie drive up close), while everyone else almost squished in the back. your gaze fell on the closest person to you. miguel. he closes his eyes for a moment seeming to think, before he reaches for your wrist, pulling you down to sit. straight on his lap.
your breath hitches at the fast movement, your body tensing. then his breath is by your ear. “relax...what do you think i was gonna do?...break your arm?” you manage a scoff, shifting slightly so that you could a find a comfortable sitting on his thighs. “no...i thought you were reaching to shut the door in my face.”
“maybe i should have.” miguel mutters just as hobie drives off. throughout the ride your friends talk about a mixture of a plan to defeat this anomaly and how terrible hobie's driving is. and it...was pretty bad. he seemed to like the feel of the excelerator a little too much, as the car drove through radom small potholes. your hand had been gripping the back of a seat, while you occasionally bounced and were forced to shift on miguel.
miguel's grip had slowly moved to your waist, his claws digging in a fraction when you would move right along him. now at first you couldn't really feel miguel's growing bulge, one that made him slightly bare his teeth in a silent snarl. “are you trying to break my hips?” you whisper in question to him, leaning back slightly against his chest to reach his ear. he stiffened, you practically against him entirely. and god was your moving making his chest rise and fall a little quicker.
you had to stop moving so much, or... “i will if you keep moving like that...it's annoying.” he says, trying to seem unbothered. “i can't help that hobie drives like this.” you hiss quietly back. “and you know what's annoying? taking off my suit to see your claw marks.”
you shouldn't have said that, because the visual of you taking off your spider suit and the thought of you being marked by his claws made miguel's hard on grow. now he was annoyed, and turned on. extremely. he purposefully tightened his grip around your waist, now wanting to leave marks as he subtly kept your back to his chest, mouth moving to your ear. then you feel it, and your eyes grow wide in realisation.
thank god your friends were too busy talking (arguing) over something rather loudly, because miguel's hands began to very slowly move your hips along him. butterflies swarm your stomach as you hear a quiet groan in your ear, clearly only meant for you. “miguel — ” you whisper in shock and question.
“shh.” miguel whispered in your ear, your cheeks now feeling flushed. his breathing was harsh, as pleasure shot through him, feeling you rub against him, his hands still slightly moving your hips. “just a little relief...” he almost muttered to himself, but his mouth was still by your ear. “what are you...” you drift off, gulping down your own arousal at the situation, because the small back and forth rubbing of your pussy against him is beginning to make you wet.
“mm...eso es...” miguel quietly mutters, wishing he could move your hips harder against him, but knowing that that'll catch the attention of your friends. you tried to hold back a small groan of your one. “shh, you gotta stay quiet for me”
“w-we shouldn't...” you choke out in a whisper. but miguel's grip hasn't let up, his mouth slightly opening in a silent pant by your neck. “i didn't think you'd feel this good, cariño...carajo.”
“so...good.” he mutters, most of his words sounding as though he's speaking to himself. “i — i can move to someone else's lap...” you suggest, trying to keep your voice normal. miguel shakes his head, his lips brushing your neck. “no...y/n...you're staying right here.” and now you're sure your waist is tainted with miguel's claw marks.
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rogueddie · 5 months
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Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.
His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.
But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.
It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.
Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.
It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.
He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.
But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.
He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.
"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"
"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."
They laugh, quickly moving on.
After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.
He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.
They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.
"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."
"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."
"It's ugly."
"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."
"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."
"No, it's not. It's special to me."
"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"
"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."
"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."
"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."
"If- what?"
"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"
"You've lost me."
Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.
"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"
"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"
"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."
Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"
"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."
"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."
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bratzforchris · 1 month
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Ways to Say "I Love You", C. Sturniolo
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Summary: Five times you knew Chris better than himself, and the one time you didn't<3
Pairing: Chris x feminine reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/hangover (y'all i know he's techinally not of legal drinking age in the USA. this is fiction)
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: I genuinely need this man in my life so bad actually. Anyways, enjoy some tooth rotting fluff. XOXO<3
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1
“Bruh,” Chris groaned, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “I feel like shit and I don’t even know why.”
You looked up from your phone, eyeing your boyfriend up and down. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he whined, rolling off the couch dramatically. “My head hurts and I’m tired.”
You sat up from the gray couch, standing over Chris, who was sprawled on the floor, pouting and whining. You definitely felt bad for him, but at the same time, you knew Chris tended to over dramatize the smallest, most random things. “Do you have a fever?” 
Chris shook his head, rolling from his back to his stomach, but not getting off the floor. “I don’t feel sick, but I just feel like horse shit and I don’t know why.”
You observed him for a moment, before an idea dawned on you. Having ADHD, Chris tended to forget to eat and drink, so hyperfixated on something or too many thoughts in his head blocking the reminders to fuel his body. He was medicated for it, which both helped and hurt. Sometimes, he would be able to focus enough to remember his meals, but other times, the meds would dissipate his hunger cues. “When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?”
“Hmmm,” Chris’s blue eyes looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged. “Dunno. Which is weird because I’ve usually had like, six Pepsis by now, but we’re out and Matt didn’t go to the grocery store yesterday, so…I don’t know.”
You shook your head with a soft chuckle, helping your boyfriend up off the floor. “I think that might be the problem, sweetheart. Is there something you want to eat?”
“Do we have chicken nuggets?” Chris asked you, picking up one of the stim toys he had left on the floor last night as he followed you into the kitchen. “That reminds me, isn’t it weird that chickens can’t fly? Like…are they even real birds?” he asked you. 
“I dunno, hun. Google it.” You told him gently, pulling the bag of chicken nuggets out of the freezer.” 
“Do you think chickens are sad that they can’t fly? Like do they look at cardinals and go ‘Damn, why can he fly but not me’?” he hummed, flicking at the toy. 
Chris was wrapped up in his own little world as you made his lunch. He didn’t even get the chance to Google his chicken question before he was distracted by a Spotify notification, which led to him loudly singing a Lil Skies song, dancing around the kitchen. As much as you hated how difficult ADHD could be for him, Chris had one of the best personalities you had ever met; he was bubbly and outgoing, always the life of the party and always willing to cheer you up. You quickly plated his nuggets, along with some other random foods that you knew he would love, before sliding the plate across the island too. 
“See if that makes you feel better.” You explained with a soft smile. 
You watched as Chris downed the food, along with a Gatorade you had given him, only to see a smile dawn on his face. 
“I feel better now,” Chris mumbled shyly after a while. “Thank you. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. You literally always know me better than myself, it’s kinda weird.”
“Why is it weird?” You asked with a snort. 
“Cause it’s like you’re magical or something. Which it would be really cool if you were.”
You smiled, kissing Chris’s soft brown hair. “I love you too, hun.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
2
Tour life was difficult. No one would deny that. As much as the triplets were absolutely loving the Versus tour and all the antics they were getting to do, as well as meeting fans, they had to admit that it was exhausting. Not only were they running on an extremely tight schedule, it was wearing on Chris the most, simply because he was getting next to no alone time with you. It wasn’t that he simply wanted the alone time for sexual reasons, rather, you were the only person that could calm his mind, letting him just be. 
“Baby,” You hummed, softly stroking the brunette’s face. It was still dark out, just past six am, but you had a surprise for him, and you knew Chris would later complain about his sleeping in if he found the missed opportunity. “Wake up, honey.”
Chris wriggled beneath the blankets, sleepily blinking his blue eyes. He was freezing and it was dark out; way too early to be awake. “Too early.” he groaned in his morning voice, rolling over to face the wall with the blanket bunched around his shoulders. 
“I have a surprise for you.” You said, a bit more excitement in your voice as you shook him harder. 
The word ‘surprise’ immediately woke the boy up as he rolled to face you. You were already dressed in one of his hoodies and a pair of leggings, eager to get on with your plan. You were practically bouncing up and down like an excited little kid, hoping Chris would love what you had come up with as much as you did. 
“Why the fuck are you awake? It’s dark out,” he moaned. “Come cuddle me instead.”
You snorted at your boyfriend’s dramatics, quietly pulling back his blanket so as not to disturb Matt and Nick. “Get dressed, you big goof. We’re leaving in ten.”
As much as he wanted to argue and go back to sleep, Chris couldn’t deny that he wanted to understand what had caused the giddiness in your aura. He quickly pulled on his favorite hoodie and sweatpants, cramming his messy hair under a snapback as he followed you down the bus steps and out onto the quiet, dark sidewalk. He didn't know where the bus had stopped during the night. Philly maybe? But he didn’t get time to think about that as you simply nodded to one of the members of the triplets security and then took his hand, dragging him down the sidewalk. 
“Where are we going? I miss my blanket.” Chris pouted. 
“Me too,” You nodded, trying your hardest not to disclose the surprise. “But I do have something that’ll make you feel better.”
Chris didn’t know where you were going at this point, but he followed you anyway. He would’ve followed in any life, had someone asked him the question. You two continued to walk for a few more blocks until you stopped in front of a brightly lit diner, its neon signs illuminating the darkness of the street. 
“Pancakes?” Your boyfriend asked, perking up as the smell of bacon drifted from the restaurant. “Goddamn, I knew I made the right choice dating you.”
“I am pretty amazing,” You giggled, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Let’s eat.”
You stepped into the diner together, immediately being sat at a booth and having your order taken. You and Chris both ordered an immense amount of breakfast food, quite tired of the protein shakes and cereal that came with bus life. 
“How did you, um, find this place?” Chris asked bashfully, stirring his straw around his Pepsi. 
You shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee. “I was just looking for things for us to do alone and it came up,” You hummed. “I love Matt and Nick, I really do, but I also like to have one-on-one time with you, and I could kind of tell you needed some, too.”
“How do you always manage to know exactly what I need when I need it?” he asked with a chuckle, brushing his hand over your knuckles. 
You smiled, a blush dotting your cheeks as your waitress came over with a tray full of all the food you had ordered. “I just do.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
3
“Baby,” Chris whined, sprawling out across your shared queen sized bed. “Don’t leave me. I don’t need food, nor do I want it.”
“But you do.” You said pointedly, looking him up and down as you slipped on your Uggs. 
“Nuh uh,” he fought back, smashing his face against a pillow. “You’re making me feel sick by not laying with me.”
“I’m not making you feel sick. Your choices are making you feel sick. No one told you to drink as much as you did.” You chastised gently, crossing the room to kiss his forehead. 
You and Chris, as well as his brothers, had gone out last night with a large group of friends, to include Johnnie and Jake, Tara, Larray, and Sam and Colby. Things had gotten a little…out of hand, leaving you with a very hungover Chris, who was making miserable noises as he clutched his stomach. 
“You’re not even laying with me,” Your boyfriend pouted. “My head and tummy hurt and I wanna be cuddled and you’re being mean.”
“You’re so grumpy when you’re hungover,” You snorted, kissing his forehead again. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
Chris whimpered again as you propped him up with several pillows, tucking him in and making sure he had water and a bucket nearby. You had opted to get him IHOP, figuring a good amount of carbs would ease the symptoms he was currently experiencing as a consequence of overindulging in alcohol. The time between you leaving the triplets house, picking up food, and returning home was less than forty five minutes total, but it felt like an eternity to your hungover boyfriend who simply wanted cuddles and for his headache and nausea to go away. 
You entered the bedroom, takeout bag in hand. “I’m back. Nothing to cure a hangover like a big, greasy breakfast,” You smiled, settling onto the bed and pulling out plastic containers of food. “Once you eat, you can take some ibuprofen for your headache.”
“I’m not hungry.” Chris whispered softly, feeling too unsettled to eat. 
“You know your tummy will feel better once you eat.” You cooed, stroking his stomach over the comforter. 
“Nuh uh.” he groaned, snuggling further into his pillow and blanket.  
“It will and you know it. You know you can’t drink that much, hun. I dunno what you expected to happen.” You explained softly, pushing some hair out of his face gently. 
As much as he wanted to continue to whine and be difficult, Chris had to admit you were right. A good breakfast and some sleep sounded really, really good right about now. He softly sat up, taking a sip of the Gatorade you had left on his bedside table last night. “Mkay…I’ll try to eat, I guess.”
You didn’t say much as you two began to eat your breakfast. You knew Chris probably had a raging hangover headache right about now, and you didn’t want to make it any worse. Once your boyfriend had had enough to eat and taken the pain relievers, he curled up into your side, placing your hand on his stomach. 
“...you were right,” he admitted quietly, always hating to be wrong. “Now I need belly rubs and sleep.” 
“So demanding,” You fake huffed, kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, hun. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
4
Chris Sturniolo was not the type to let anyone know he was upset. Sure, he would jokingly whine and complain about things when he felt like being irritating to his brothers, but he would never actually let anyone see when his feelings were hurt. You knew this about him, and after a little over a year together, you knew the signs that he was feeling this way as well.
The four of you were currently sitting in Matt’s car in a random parking lot, filming a car video. You opted to sit in the back and mostly listen with an amused look. After all, this was the triplets video, not yours. They hadn’t really planned a topic for today either, which ever bubbly Chris took to his advantage. 
“I need to pee,” he stated to no one in particular. “I got a new water bottle and so now I’ve been motivated to stay hydrated so I need to pee.”
“Why did you say water bottle like that?” Matt snorted. 
The boys continued back and forth with their bickering for a while, mostly making fun of the way Chris had said the word. You simply sat and laughed, enjoying all the weird conversations that came up, that is until Nick harshly interrupted Chris. 
“Do you ever shut up?” he asked. “Like genuinely, do you ever shut your mouth?”
“I do sometimes.” Chris protested. 
“Nuh uh,” Matt interjected. “You couldn’t go five minutes without talking. I bet on it. You’re one of those people on the list Nick was talking about. The one who could benefit from being quiet.”
“Fine. Time starts now.” Chris ‘locked’ his lips and pretended to throw away the key. 
You knew he was just going along with the video, but you could tell by the slump of your boyfriend’s shoulders and the way he had his forehead resting against the cool window that the comments had hurt him more than he let on. Nick and Matt continued to talk for a few minutes, before landing on a topic that immediately sparked Chris’s mind. He quickly decided to speak up, forgetting about their ‘challenge’. 
“You can’t do it,” Matt laughed, a triumphant look on his face. “Chris can’t stop yapping…wait, that should be the title of this video.”
Nick laughed and fist bumped his middle triplet, but you found the joke far from funny. Chris had slowly curled into himself throughout the duration of the video, speaking less and less. He was still appearing to be smiling and having a good time, but his overall demeanor had shifted, and you could tell his brothers’ teasing was getting to him. 
“We should get home. It’s getting late…” You mumbled softly once the car had quieted down. 
Chris turned around in his seat, giving you a thankful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Matt nodded at your statement, turning the key in the ignition and beginning the short drive back to your shared LA home. Everyone was quiet, which was a rare occurrence in this car. You would’ve thought that Matt and Nick would’ve noticed Chris’s unusual silence, but somehow they didn’t. Your boyfriend lingered to get out as his brothers clomped inside the house, laughing about a random joke. 
“You okay, hun?” You asked, climbing from the backseat to the driver’s seat, resting your hand on his arm. 
“‘M fine.” Chris mumbled, leaning his head  against the window. 
“You don’t act very fine.” You whispered gently, running your fingers through the soft, brown curls at the nape of his neck. 
“Do you think I talk too much?” Chris whispered quietly, turning towards you. 
Under the bright light of the garage, you could see unshed tears welling in his lash line, threatening to spill. That’s how you knew Chris was upset. He almost never cried, unless he was really and truly upset. 
“Honey,” You said sadly, running your thumb across his cheek. “Of course not, bubba. I love listening to you talk.”
“Well Matt and Nick sure don’t.” he huffed grumpily, but a sniffle made its way out.
“Yeah…I was going to talk to them about that, actually. They were kinda being dickheads to you tonight.” You whispered, always hating conflict between the triplets. 
“They were right,” Chris groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t shut my fucking mouth and everyone thinks it’s annoying!”
“Sweetheart,” You cooed, pulling him into a hug across the console. “I don’t, and I say that with every promise in me. I love listening to you talk, Chris. Your voice is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard and I learn so much from you every day.”
“Really?” he sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek.
“Really, hun,” You smiled, softly brushing it away. “I love you.”
Chris smiled, giving you a soft peck on the lips. “You always just know, don’t you? You always know when I’m sick or tired or when something’s wrong. God, I love you.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
5
You had always loved music, ever since you were little. Something about how a simple arrangement of notes could make a person feel so many emotions captivated you. It was like a language that you didn't have to learn to understand. By the time you were eleven, you’d been playing guitar and ukulele, and that later expanded to piano and bass. Music was absolutely your therapy, and you took every opportunity you had to practice your craft. 
You were sitting on the floor of your and Chris’s shared bedroom, strumming softly on your acoustic guitar. For once, the house was quiet because the boys were out filming a video, so you took the time to practice one of the new songs you had been working on lately. Being a music major allowed you very little time for your separate projects, so you would take whatever chance you could get. 
The silence didn’t last long, though. Just as you were playing an Em chord, Chris burst into the room, flopping on the bed. “Hey mamas, how was your day?”
You playfully rolled your eyes, but continued to strum your guitar. “It was wonderful…until I was so rudely interrupted.”
“You know you love me,” Chris teased, rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin in his hands. “Play me a song.”
“God, you are so demanding,” You chuckled. “What’s next? An autograph?”
“Mhm. On my boobs.” Your boyfriend smiled.
You shook your head with a laugh, throwing a guitar pick at him. “You’re insane.”
You didn’t waste any more in Chris’s antics, though. You fulfilled your boyfriend’s request, quietly beginning to play Falling like the Stars and singing along. Chris said nothing more, cherishing the sound of your voice. He loved hearing you sing and play guitar. It soothed him, allowing him to see the passionate parts of you that only came out in your music. He wished that he could do the things that you did, but he had just never taken the time to learn an instrument. 
You looked up at your boyfriend on the bed after you finished the song, smiling softly. You watched Chris for a moment, observing his body language and the way he was looking at you. “Do you…want to learn?” You asked him quietly, a blush dotting your cheeks.
“You’d teach me?” Chris’s cheeks and ears grew pink as he looked at you shyly. 
“I’d love to.” You nodded with a smile. 
Your boyfriend clambered off the bed, sitting down next to you on the rug. You softly began to explain the different parts of an acoustic guitar and how to hold it, before moving onto chords and strumming. Chris had always been a fast learner when he put effort in, and right now was no different. Within the hour, he was already playing slow, soft songs. The chords were still vibrating and it took him quite a while to change them, but it was a song nonetheless. 
“I’m not as good at it as you are.” he pouted after a moment, setting your guitar aside gently. 
“Well I have been playing for ten years, bub.” You chuckled gently, kissing his face. 
Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him and kissing you back deeply. He loved you with all his heart, and you taking the time out of your day to share your passions with him only made him love you more. As the kiss grew heavier, Chris fell back onto the floor, still holding you as he giggled. 
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar, you know that?” he asked, pecking your forehead. 
“I could tell.” You smiled. 
“You always can.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
+1
“It’s such a nice day out today.” You hummed, soaking in the sun as you laid on your towel. 
Chris fidgeted beside you anxiously, but made an acknowledgement towards you statement so as to ‘throw you off his scent’. He had been planning this surprise for months now and he was currently using every muscle in his body to keep his mouth shut so as not to spoil it.
You two were basking in the sun on the beach in Santa Barbara, towels laid out. You had noticed Chris had been unusually quiet all day, but didn’t really think much of it. The beach usually kept him in his own little world, too distracted by the roar of the ocean and the sand between his feet to notice anyone else. You both had always loved the beach, and moving to the LA area after living in Boston your whole life had been a welcomed change. You practically went to the beach every weekend, but today Chris had led you to a new spot he had found. It was rather secluded, but you loved it all the same. It made things more intimate between the two of you. 
“You’re quiet today,” You said after a while, rolling over and propping yourself up on your shoulder. You looked Chris over from head-to-toe, admiring the tiny features about him like the way his curls had grown more pronounced with the salt air and the birthmark on his back. “Beach getting you relaxed?”
“I, uh, yeah. You could say that,” Your boyfriend tried to smile sheepishly, looking you over. Your lavender bikini hugged you just right, making him even more nervous. If he fucked this up while you looked so gorgeous, he would never forgive himself. “Wanna take a walk?”
You smiled, sitting up quickly and beginning to gather your towel. “Sure!”
“No!” Chris said a bit too hastily. “I mean, you don’t need to bring your towel…I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You can’t just leave your stuff on the beach, Chris.” You giggled. 
“It’s not like anyone’s gonna steal it. Just–trust me, please?” he asked, giving you those blue puppy eyes you could never resist. 
“I guess so,” you fake huffed, taking his hand in your own. “C’mon, let’s walk before the sun sets on us, silly.”
Chris smiled, taking your hand in his own and starting the trek down the beach. The ocean was calling him as you two strolled westward towards the sunset, but that would have to wait. At least until he had finished his plan. The silence between you was comfortable like always, but this time it thrummed with passionate energy. Chris was pretty sure you had no idea what he was  planning, but then again, you knew him like the back of your hand.
“This beach is so quiet. It’s nice when it’s just us,” You smiled. “How did you find this place?”
“Oh, y’know, doing what I do best. Poking around.” Your boyfriend laughed nervously as you came to a beautiful expanse of rock along the beach. 
You immediately ran towards the beauty, smiling up at the wonder of nature. “This is gorgeous.”
Chris took the opportunity of you having your back turned to feel in the pocket of his swim trunks for the tiny box that he had been hiding from you for over a month now. He would admit that he had definitely had a bit of a struggle keeping the secret from you, but it was worth it to see you now, on this gorgeous beach, looking even more beautiful than the view around you. The brunette turned his head to where Nick was hiding out of sight, holding his camera. As much as he wanted the two of you to be alone for this, he wanted the pictures infinitely more. He couldn’t wait to tell his kids about what would be the best day of his life one day, that is, if you said yes. 
He took a deep breath, pulling the box out of his pocket and then tapping you on the shoulder. “I have a question for you, ma.”
By the time you had turned around, Chris was on one knew, holding a tiny, velvet box that held a gorgeous, heart-shaped, diamond ring. “Oh my god…” You whispered, hand flying to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.
“You are my best friend, baby. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you that day in ninth grade algebra class. Finding out you felt the same way about me was probably the best day of my life. You always listen to every crazy, stupid, and dumb idea I have and I love you for it. You know me better than I know myself. I love loving you; you are my first, last, and only love. Will you marry me, Y/N?”
“Oh my god, yes!” You squealed, throwing yourself into his arms as Chris slid the ring onto your finger.
Chris sniffled as he spun you around, hugging you tightly and kissing you. “This is why I’ve been acting weird today,” he chuckled and blushed. “I was worried you’d find out. You know literally everything.”
“Not everything,” You smiled, showing him the diamond. “You kept the secret so well. Who all knows?”
“Well,” Chris admitted shyly as Nick stepped out from his hiding spot. “Nick knows, obviously, because I needed his help capturing the moment. Matt knows too. Other than that, no one else.”
“You’re amazing, Chris,” You whispered, kissing him again. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I was fifteen years old, you know that?”
“I love you so much, ma. Always have and always will.” 
As Nick continued to snap photos of the two of you in front of the sunset on the beach, you couldn’t help but to feel your heart swell. You hadn’t known what was going on with Chris this time, but for once, you didn’t even mind. 
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence
note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3
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sunderwight · 4 months
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Reverse transmigration bingqiu except instead of Bingge turning up in Shen Yuan's world, it's white lotus disciple Binghe who does.
Shen Yuan, currently in his last year of high school, finds him and thinks he's a troubled homeless kid who has latched onto a character from a web novel as an intense form of escapism. He's initially just going to hand him over to some authorities of some kind but the kid seems so lost and scared, instead he ends up deciding to personally use his family's connections to help him or at least find his actual family or something (of course, doesn't turn anything up).
Baby Binghe is brand new to Qing Jing peak in the timeline he left from, so he doesn't have any idea of cultivating. With his demon blood still locked, he's a normal kid. But he's smart! He figures out basic appliances and picks up other modern facilities pretty quickly, wins over SY's family, and eagerly decides to keep living with him when SY moves out for the first time. SY's almost feeling bad because he definitely got the better end of this deal. His family manages to enroll LBH in school and they get him a bunch of lessons on things he seems interested in, and even so this kid still finds time to do a better job cooking and cleaning than SY, whose schedule is less packed.
A couple years pass. SY is beginning to accept that this is a permanent situation. So is LBH, who is kind of sad that he won't be able to fulfill his mother's dream of him becoming a cultivator, but actually really likes living in the magic shiny future with Shen Yuan and wouldn't change it now even if he could. SY is looking at long-term things for organizing Luo Binghe's further education, travel, etc. He's come out of his shell, is more active in the world and with his family because he needs to make sure his young ward gets proper socialization! (SY's family think LBH is the best thing that ever happened to him, and don't point out that they're actually only a few years apart in age; except Shen Meimei, who is the same age as LBH.) Meanwhile Luo Binghe's life plan is veering towards "housewife" aspirations, but he's still too shy to mention that to the object of his crush. It's okay though, he's got time! He'll get older and then figure out how best to approach the situation! (And in the meanwhile run off anyone else who tries to date his future husband...)
Of course, that's when it turns out that the system sent him here as an emergency measure to get him out of the way while it resolved a major issue with the actual setting. When the issues are repaired, it yanks LBH back. He finds himself returned to the exact same moment he left, in the same physical state, the years he spent living with Shen Yuan seemingly erased.
Going back to Qing Jing Peak after all that is difficult. No, worse, it's almost completely intolerable. Luo Binghe has been treated right and had a good life and now it's just gone. He has no idea how to get back.
But, that's why he has to stay. Because if there is a way to get back, then his best shot at figuring it out is learning how to cultivate, and devouring every single book in Qing Jing Peak's library, and then every other sect's library if need be. It is possible to move between worlds! He knows, because he did it! He just needs to find the way to do it again, permanently. So he stays and he deals with Shen Qingqiu's cruelty and the bullying of his sect mates, but he doesn't hold out any hope for them to improve. Instead he tries his best to hold his own ground, uses things he learned from Shen Yuan's world to steal whatever advantages he can, and pushes his way through any obstacles or competition.
He hates Shen Qingqiu, though. Especially because he has the surname Shen. Shen Yuan's family was good to him, so it seems like a cruel joke of fate that his shizun is so dead set against him. Something that could have been a comfort is instead a bitter twist of the knife.
But then a couple of years into this, Shen Qingqiu... changes?
After suffering a qi deviation, he stops beating Luo Binghe at the slightest provocation. He stops beating any of his students, in fact. He gives Binghe medicine, actually starts teaching classes, rescues Luo Binghe from a malicious skin-stealing demon, takes the blow of an incurable poison to save him from another demon, even gives him the side room of his own house to stay in. The bullying ends and the atmosphere on Qing Jing Peak changes, like night and day. Somehow he goes from being Shen Qingqiu's most hated student to being his clear favorite, even doted on disciple.
Luo Binghe is not going to fall in love with this new reformed Shen Qingqiu, though. He isn't! His heart is not so fickle that he will just fall in love with anyone who is kind to him! His love for Shen Yuan, that was real. And Shen Yuan would tell him that even though Shen Qingqiu seems to have changed, Luo Binghe shouldn't just forget about the past, because what if Shen Qingqiu returns to that behavior? It might not happen, but if it does then Luo Binghe must react accordingly.
But it's difficult, sometimes. This new Shizun, he's... he's really... sometimes he seems just like...
But Luo Binghe won't fall in love with him!
No matter what, he won't stay. He has to figure out how to move between worlds, and get back to Shen Yuan. Who he REALLY loves. Not Shen Qingqiu. He is in love with Shen Yuan and he is not falling in love with Shen Qingqiu.
At all.
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miingyur · 1 year
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baby fever | bakugou headcanons
part 2 part 3
tags: suggestive themes, not proof read, heat in the moment writing, fem reader, mentions of pregnancy, established marriage, they’re pro heroes, crappy writing.
word count: 642
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☆ bakugou katsuki. when people hear that name, they say he’s rough, brusque and edgy, a double sided sword. on the other hand, you find him sweet and loving, quite adorable even if he denies it.
☆ you often think a lot about how he would treat your kids in the near future and despite his tough exterior, he’s grown fond of kids.
☆ social media thinks that he's going to be the worst dad to exist if you have kids, you think they’re delusional.
☆ but the moment you realize you know he’s the one for your non-existent kids is when you’re both out on patrol and you find a lost kid. “leave him to me” katsuki grumbles. “go get yer injury healed”
☆ you do as told, conversing with one of the medics, and in the corner of your eye, you spot the child laughing with your husband.
☆ butterflies dance about in your stomach, fluttering vigorously. “he’s going to be a great dad, [hero name].“ the medic says. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, almost like you held the earth up for him.”
☆ you softly thank her with a smile, beaming with rays of sunshine as you approach your boyfriend. secretly watching him play with the young boy.
☆ “I see you’re both having a great time” you say. katsuki whips his head in surprise, coughing into his fist as if to hide his blush. “has dynamight been nice to you, sweetie?”
☆ the kid jumps up and down in glee, bobbing his head. “mister dynamight is the best! he even gave me a lollipop! but mommy can’t know or she might get upset”
☆ he sheers away in embarrassment. “thought it might cheer him up or somet’ing” you press your lips against his cheek, praising him for his work when the kid pretends to gag. you both chuckle.
☆ “aoi!” a woman calls out and the boy goes running to his mother, “oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” you smile at her and tell her it’s your job as heroes, waving back to aoi as they leave.
☆ “having a kid doesn’t sound so bad. I wouldn’t mind waking up to our baby in your arms. It’s adorable and sexy.”
☆ he pauses. freezing in place. did he hear you right? our baby. him being a dad? sexy? fuck. you were definitely going to be the death of him.
☆ “[hero name]!” he calls out. you wink at him, skipping off to the agency. “baby! you can’t just say that and leave me like this!” he groans. having a hard on in the middle of work was going to be difficult to explain.
☆ the next morning, you saw the media, snorting at the headline. PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN SMILING WITH A KID. COULD WE POSSIBLY BE SEEING POTENTIAL FATHER MATERIAL?
☆ you yelp in surprise, dropping your phone on the side of the bed at the sudden touch of your boyfriend. “c’mere” he rasps. “why the fuck are you up s’early? it’s only 8am, go back t’sleep”
☆ “wanted to check the time is all. do you need something?” you ask.
☆ he shakes his head and lays you atop of him, grinding against your ass as a grin paints his lips, canines showing. “only thing I need is to fill you up to the brim and pump you full of my cum.”
☆ “katsuki! It’s only 8am!” you repeat his words. they fall deaf on his ears.
☆ next thing you know, you’re holding a test in your hand, double lines are present as a smug katsuki smirks at you. what a little shit.
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