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#i don’t think i’m done but i think i better stop
arieslost · 1 day
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getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙
this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3
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kiss me | ln4
you’re sure you’re seeing things.
you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.
a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.
“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.
the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.
“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.
“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”
he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.
“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.
you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”
“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.
“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”
“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”
“so you just buy me a car?!”
he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”
“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.
“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.
“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.
“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”
“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.
“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”
you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”
“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.
“go away. i’m mad at you.”
“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.
you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.
“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.
“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.
“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.
“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.
“no thanks.”
“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.
you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.
“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.
“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.
“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”
“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.
“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?
he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”
you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.
“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”
“what do you love more, me or the car?”
“the car, obviously.”
he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.
“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.
damn him.
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word count: 860
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
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screampied · 22 hours
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i’m obsessed with ur fics and want to live inside your pretty little brain, you just write jjk characters so well 🫠
recently i’ve been thinking about choso having a bad day or something and just wanting to be taken care of, so now you’re nursing him while you jerk him off and he’s a whiny moaning mess and it’s so cute and when he thinks you’re done with him you get on top and ride him and he’s begging you to stop bc he can’t take anymore pleasure :( like i’m sick over this i need him so bad
❤︎ ໋𓈒 pleasing choso after a long day.
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warnings. fem! reader, overstim, jerking choso off, pampering choso bc he deserves it, whiney choso, cowgirl, creampıe, praise, mdni + thank u sm !!!
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“. . please,” choso would murmur in a frail weak tone, he sounded so drowsy, so needy. he’s barely through the door before he wraps his strong bulky arms around you. you giggle, being squished between his warmth before he buries his face into your neck. he gently runs his tongue against your collarbone before continuing to speak in muffled sentences. “missed you so bad. had a long day ‘n just need to . . need to unwind.”
you smile, stroking his back lovingly. “aw, bad day today, ‘cho?” you’d sweetly reply, feeling him shudder from your touch alone. despite you being so gentle, he was always so incredibly weak around you, including a simple few electric touches from you. “of course baby, i’ll help you.”
“can….you help me um,” and he’s struggling to get the words out. the two of you were finally secluded together in the large spacey bedroom. choso’s laid back, shirtless and heavy heaving breaths depart from his lips every few seconds. the more you stare at him the more he finds it hard to swallow the growing lump in his throat. “can you do the thing? like last time?”
you giggle, glancing at the poking tent in his boxers. “a handjob, baby?”
“…handjob,” he repeats, his eyes softening before a mere whine escapes from his throat. “oh … yeah, that. please,” and his lungs felt so clouded. with a hand running through his hair, he sighs cutely. “yes p-please. i wanna handjob. i’d do it myself but you always do it better, p-princess.”
choso was so cute, the way he was basically putty underneath your hands..
his words always trembled, he wanted you more than anything. he was always like this whenever he came home, so needy each and everytime for nothing more than your simple addicting touch.
“okay,” you’d comply, just a single word that pours from your lips alone was so seductive to him. he could listen to your voice all day. it was his own type of harmony, a song he’d love to listen to every day on repeat if he could.
your voice.
you reach beside him near the black short nightstand, grabbing a lube bottle before making sure to not waste any time.
you could tell by choso’s dilated pupils and his irregular rapid pants that he was growing more and more impatient as the time passed.
“wanna feel you s-so bad,” he whimpers, tensing a little from the way your hand springs out his length, lubricating around his pulsating cock.
you always made sure to be thorough— slicking every inch of him down with the liquid, starting from his swollen tip, then down towards his shaft, then his base. of course, his balls too. whenever you fondled with his fat puffy balls, choso would make such the cutest whines imaginable. “f-fuck, m-more. hurry, princess.”
“baby, don’t rush me,” you tease, sitting right beside him before pressing a sweltering hot kiss against his temple. he whimpers at your touch yet again, the softness of your lips having him in utter shambles. you made sure to have your dominant hand pay close attention towards the head of his dick, the most neglected sensitive spot. he inhales then exhales, gnawing at his lip before dark eyes of his stares up at the idle ceiling fan. “mhm. you’re so pent up, must have had a really rough day, hm?”
“so h-horrible,” he pouts, despite his voice being naturally deep and a bit gruff, the delivery of how whiney he was was just so cute. “i’m just glad i always come home to you. y-you always know how to make me feel better.”
you simper, your hand finally fully wrapping around his base before you start to give him a few solid pumps.
he moans, thickly swallowing the remnants of sweet syrupy spit that remain all in his mouth.
so so good..
you drove him crazy in the right ways possible. choso felt a sudden ringing sensation rigorously vibrate throughout his ears. he felt hot all over, radiating with a staggering high temperature of scorching boiling heat.
the tempo you had with jerking him off was a decent pace at first, gradually fisting his cock with each concise stroke—you occasionally glance up at choso who’s panting up a storm. “. . . . ugh,” he mewls out through gritted teeth, a hand of his own attempting to grab towards yours. “i wanna touch you t-too.”
“no choso,” you sneer, moving his hand away.
oh, the pout that suddenly spreads across his lips was so cute.
he’s giving you puppy dog eyes as if he’s questioning you a perplexed little, ‘huh?’ whilst you’re still stroking him at such a quickening pace, you make sure he keeps his hands to himself. “you wanted me to touch you, not choso, ‘kay? let me do everything, be a good boy for me.”
“i-i’m sorry, sorry,” he mutters in short breaths, finding your tone to be so hot. the twitch he feels in his dick only gets him more aroused. for a split second, you feel a vein that ran down the middle of his shaft pulse against your palm. “you’re right. ‘m gonna let you please me. gonna be a good boy ‘n keep my hands to m-myself.”
you peck a kiss against his hot cheek. “so good for me.”
“p-praise me more, please.” he whines.
“choso,” you giggle, and he was more needier than usual today. his voice grew a bit more high the faster you stroke him—his beefy thigh starts to bounce and bounce before he’s leaning back in pleasure. “you want more praises?”
he nods. “i- i do, your voice ‘s so hot, so s-sexy,” and his breathing abruptly hitches once you give him a sly smile. “not the right word, that was inappropriate— i- i mean, attractive. your voice when you praise me ‘s so attractive, i want more.”
the way he corrects himself from his choice of words was adorable.
whenever you gave choso a handy though, he’d never really last long regardless. choso would usually only last a few good minutes, especially with your hand work, your techniques.. he was simply no match.
“i’ll praise you all day, baby,” you whisper, watching as he’s feeling himself get close. he’s so desperate to touch you. he wants to, to stroke himself with you, wrap his big hand against yours. choso bites his lip in anticipation— feeling how he’s steadily losing composure. immensely, he starts to feel his throat grow dry, the air felt richly thick and he starts to get more and more vocal. “close?”
“uh huh, uh huuh,” he nods, pretty long lashes of his squeezing shut. choso’s about to fall into that trance again, your speed had him losing his mind. in his mouth, he starts to salivate. you’re so steady and precise with your beats and pumps against his cock that he’s about to spiral completely. “princess, ‘m gonna make a mess. you’re gonna make me m-messy again.”
“be messy for me then,” you invigorate to him against his ear, playfully licking a stripe near the soft outer shell of his lobe. he shivers at that, so sensitive. again, if it was anything that could be considered as choso kamo’s weakness— it was your voice. “give it to me, c’mon ‘cho.”
he’s so hard, his dick was all slick and wet from the translucent colored lube running down the sides of his hefty shaft.
a shaky breath snatches out of choso’s mouth before his abs tense up.
a hand goes through his hair before he feels the pressure finally hit him. “shit, s-shitttt,” he whines, feeling the area of his frenulum pulse and pulse. he’s seeing pure splotches of white— once his climax comes, it takes merely everything out of him. static shoots out from his ears and he lets off a cute shriek. “a-ah.”
you stare at the mess he’d just paint on himself. a few spurts of his own sticky cum shoots against his tummy, right near his lower abdomen. choso’s eyebrows significantly lower before he lets off a cute, “phew..”
“want more?” you coo, unraveling your hand around his dick before staring at him— he returns your gaze with half-lidded dark eyes.
he nods, panting off a sweet desperate. “yes please.”
choso figured you were gonna stroke him off again, but his eyes briefly widen once you end up up making your way onto his lap. straddling him in such a lewdly titillating way, he gulps. the ringing throughout his ears reverberates louder before you align yourself against the wet tip of his cock.
he was so aroused, so needy, so in love..
being a half curse spirit— he’s never got to fully experience types of pleasure like this.
albeit, he was always grateful to you for being able to show him everything he was missing out on though. with his bottom lip quivering, he gasps once he feels you slowly sinking down onto his length, feeling the warm pool of heat introduce itself to his cock that’s gradually splitting you open.
“oh…..fuck,” he’d groan, and at this particular point, his voice grows a raspy low. hooded eyes stare at you, studying your every move. from fixating his pupils on your hips, your chest, and even your face— he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “y-you’re gonna ride me?”
“yes baby,” you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a deep sensual kiss. he’s panting, each breath feels like it’s gonna be its last with you. warm tongues tangle and tango amongst each other before you briefly suck on his. a whine pulls from his throat before he feels your hips start to jerk.
abruptly, choso pulls away, whimpering a sweet. “can— can i touch you now at least? please. f-fuck, can’t take it anymore princess.”
“touch me however you’d like, pretty boy,” you’d speak in a hushed tone, licking another long strike against his neck. he was so sensitive, his eyes were practically about to roll all the way back by this point. you’re easing your sloppy cunt down onto his length and his roughly textured hands grab against your hips. choso then spanks your ass, only to give it a mean squeeze afterward just to see you gasp. “like touching me, huh?”
“y-you know i do,” he pouts, feeling the deep stretch. it was so so good— mouth watering, a perfect way to describe his mouth at the feeling of your pussy taking him in in such a sloppy, erotic way. already, you were a bit soaked from earlier, coating his base with a candied gossamer ring of your slick arousal. “my god, my g-goddd.” he throws his head back once you start to move against him.
a few solid rhythmic thrusts and choso kamo was done for.
he stuffs you full of inches, you lean up close to his face to plant your lips against the bridge of his nose— softly smooching against the area where his darkened scar remained. pink wet lips of his quaver from that simple action and his grip against your hips only tightens.
clammy, sweaty hands guide your hips to fuck against him harder before his head leans back. “fuck me, f-fuck me, jus’ fuck me pleaseeee. can’t c-cum, don’t think i can come anymore.”
choso becomes more whiny, his voice starting to strain overtime and you feel your stomach briefly seizing from how deep he’s hitting you.
relentlessly, you’re moving against him so good that not even he can keep up with you. your pussy’s the perfect match for him, fitting nice and snug like a lock fits inside a key.
oh, but the grip..
the grip of your sopping wet cunt against his dick was so appetizing, he only wanted more. more more more, the squelching noises had him feral and by now, with a tight enough grip he’s helping you slam down against his lap. “hah, can’t . . ‘m not gonna cum again, baby, f-fuck. fuck me so good, i—i love you, love you ‘s much.”
“i love you too baby,” you moan yourself, pulling him back into a steamy kiss. his sweetened whines and whimpers pour right into your mouth, ravened strands of his hair sticking against his forehead like glue. choso was drenched in sweat, perspiring such amounts that it makes his skin glisten entirely. “yes you can,” you hum between sultry breaths, coating his entire face with your kisses. you watch as his eyebrows arch and he squeezes against your ass just a bit tighter. he loves the recoil— spanking your ass just to witness and see the jiggle, it had his dick twitching even more. “you can give me one more, know you can, baby.”
“f-fuck, you’re gonna make a mess outta me,” he whimpers. the way you grind against him has him going feral by the second. hot deep breaths wretch from his throat before his head goes back. he leans all the way back, washboard abs flexing and curling up. with a single finger of yours running down his sharp chiseled v-line, he nearly loses it. your touch, his ultimate weakness. “gonna c-cum again, ‘m gonna flood your pussy again, oh fuuuuck.”
with your arms still lazily thrown around him, choso hugs you tightly, pumping further into your gummy walls that clamp him down oh so good before he ends up cumming again. this time, inside. it’s so hot from the inside—your pussy was all toasty, balmy from every crevice of your walls and the addictive hold it has on him. he shoots a long thick rope into you, it comes out into satiny spurts, filling you up to the very brim.
choso’s reaction was so cute, he’s literally speechless, yet his grip against your ass doesn’t even lessen. his face was practically covered with strands of his hair, half lidded eyes and a pussy drunken smile curling against his thin crimson red lips. “i— oh my,” he hiccups, catching his breath for a moment. the entirety of his body felt a plethora of emotions— hot, cold, warm, all of it. for a moment, his eyes meet your gaze before he swallows, reaching down, swirling two fingers against your sloppy cunt. you moan, feeling him gather up a good amount of his own cum that oozes out of your hole before bringing it toward his lips. choso pops his fingers into his mouth, getting a good taste and he moans, still feeling himself deeply buried into your sweet cunt.
so filthy, tasting himself like that with no shame..
“taste okay?” you puff out, watching as he’s got his two digits stuffed all in his mouth. with a cute nod, he pulls you closer towards his broad chest before you slowly pull his fingers out his mouth. “good, because ‘m not done with you yet, baby. wanna see if you can give me one more. can you be a good boy ‘n do that for me?”
“i- i’ll be your good boy,” he pouts, moaning harmonically once your hips start to make haste, picking up again. “wanna be so good for you. promise i’ll give you one more. f-fuck, i love you.”
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dazednmatthews · 2 days
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could you write stressed college gf headcanons for chris too 👉👈 matt's are so damn cute
chris x stressed college!gf headcanons:
-something about chris you’ve noticed since you’ve been together is that he has a habit of feeding off peoples energies, but possibly in the worst way
-so when finals come around and you’re an anxious, stressed mess, so is he
-and because of that, he’s constantly looking up the material you have to study and telling you random facts about it in hopes that it helps in anyway
-“hey babe,” he says while you sit as his computer desk, highlighting things in your notes. “yeah?” you say, not tearing your gaze away from your notebook. “did you know that 95% of the ocean is still unexplored?” you do glance at him that time, eyebrows furrowed. “yes i did. why do you mention it?” “well i’ve just been reading about marine science for a couple hours and that’s just fucking insane to me”
-it never really adds anything to your review, but it makes you smile regardless at how hard he’s trying
-his support is absolutely unwavering, so as soon as you start to doubt yourself or talk down to yourself, he’s there to put a full stop to that shit
-“i’m never gonna fucking pass,” you flop back in his bed, blowing a frustrated breath out. “i can’t remember any of this shit and it won’t matter how long i spent studying because i’m gonna get in the exam room and absolutely choke-”
-“stop talking about yourself like that.” he’d cut you off. “you’ve been working nonstop to pass this test and you’re like the smart person i’ve ever met. i don’t wanna hear any of that. the more you say it, the more you’ll believe it and it’s just not fucking true. understood?”
-it makes your heart do backflips
-i think he’d be the type to pack you a big of snacks or a meal for days he knows you’re gonna be in the library all day studying
-you’d come up to the living room with your bag slung over your shoulder and your hair still wet from the shower and place a kiss on his cheek as you leave. “i’m going to study, baby. i’ll probably be back late.”
-“thats fine, ma. don’t stress yourself out too much.” he’d pause the show he was watching and turn in his seat on the couch slightly. “i made you some food to take with you. make sure you eat it, i worked hard on that.”
-“chris, this is so sweet. you’d didn’t have to do this.”
-he’d give you a strange look. “why wouldn’t i? i need my girl to be taken care of. plus i knew you would ignore me if i told you to eat. shit is so annoying.” he’d roll his eyes while you shrug.
-“oh fuck off. sometimes i just forget.”
-he would also help you study, using all the guides you’ve done. he’s soooo the type of bf to give a kiss for every right answer too. it keeps you motivated and keeps him happy. kissing you is his favorite thing to do after all.
-when you would get so stressed and anxious about failing you would cry, his heart would actually break
-you would be on like hour six straight with no breaks and he would close your books, starting to put everything away
-“chris, what the fuck are you doing! i have so much more to do.”
-“no. you’re driving yourself crazy and it’s not good for you. you’re done for tonight. i’m gonna run you a bath and then we’ll watch a movie.”
-you’d pretend to be mad but actually be so grateful he could see you were close to breaking down. to be loved is to be known
-chris goes with you in the morning and waits for you in the car while you take your test
-he’s waiting for you outside on the hood of your car when you come out, wringing his hands nervously to hear how you did
-when he sees the sad look on your face he instantly goes to grab you and make you feel better
-but when you told him that you passed w flying colors he is so proud of you he nearly cried.
-“yes! that’s my girl! i knew you could do it, baby. my girlfriend, the scholar.” and he’s peppering kisses all over your face while hugging you tightly
-you soak in the moment with a warm heart because you have the best boyfriend in the world and it baffles you just how much he believes in you. you are so in love with him
-and he loves you exactly the same
TAGS:
@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds
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kingkatsuki · 1 day
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My friend showed me this video from L&DS and now I’m quite insane, delirious, unwell imagining it with old man Bakugou😫
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Thinking about retired Pro-Hero Dynamight, who just wants a quiet drink in his local old man pub. Sitting at the bar as he nurses his whiskey, neat.
Any and all chances of peace swiftly snatched from his clutches when a rowdy hen party enters, unable to get into one of the main bars and clubs along the high street. Groaning into his glass when the bride orders a round of shots, definitely readying himself to leave early.
Until you catch his eye— a bright pink “maid of honour” sash wrapped around your frame as you wear a hideous pink tiara on your head, a flushed glow to your cheeks from the liquor already flowing through your veins from long before you found this quaint pub. Giving him a small smile when you notice him staring, and following your friend group to your table.
Bakugou surprises himself when he orders himself another drink, staying in this loud chaos when he’d probably be better off drinking at home. Continuing to observe you from afar. You’re definitely too young for him, too cute and pretty, and definitely not interested in an old man like him— but it doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the view.
Until you pass him on your way back from the bathroom, sliding into the barstool beside him as you twist your body to face him. The same smile on your face as he leans back slightly to meet your gaze, “You lost, sweetheart?”
“Hi to you too,” You laugh, light and airy. It has Bakugou’s heart racing as it seems to flow directly into his bloodstream, “Drinking alone on a Saturday night isn’t fun.”
Bakugou motions to the barman to bring him another whiskey, turning to face you to ask what you want to drink. And it’s cute the way you seem genuinely thankful that he’s buying you a drink, not like most that’ll hit up every man in the bar.
“You can come and join us if you want,” You grin, picking up the drink to cheers against his whiskey glass (a glass that he doesn’t bother to cheers back— just leaves it sat on top of the bar) “No fun drinking alone.”
“Not sure I’ll fit in,” It’s the first smile you manage to get from him the entire night, “And I ain’t a stripper.”
“Well, you could be,” You laugh, “You’re hot.”
And Bakugou feels his cock buck at your admission, a rush of blood surging directly between his thighs as he adjusts himself on top of the stool.
“C‘mon,” You push, “You can’t sit alone all night, that’s so boring.”
“Ya don’t need to worry about me, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, sipping at his drink as he tries to stop the saccharine scent of your perfume invading his senses and causing him to loose all sense of control.
“Okay, how about a game of pool?” You try, “I can’t remember the last time I went to a bar that had one!”
“Play with your friends.” You’re not sure whether it’s a question or a statement as you lean in closer to him, your breasts skimming the side of his arm as you pout your glossy lips.
“They don’t wanna play with me,” And Bakugou has to hide the groan that threatens to spill from his throat at the implication, “And you look like you know how to play.”
“Yeah,” He scoffs, standing up from the stool as you realise just how tall he is, “Do you?”
“I dunno,” You hum, “Maybe you need to remind me.”
There’s a certain way he picks the cue up, his scarred palms wrapping around the length of it as his forearms flex when he chalks the tip that has you rubbing your thighs together. Taking a sip of your drink to hide how you’re blatantly ogling him now, holding it out for you to take when he’s done as he grabs another for himself.
“Let’s see what you’ve got, sweetheart.”
And of course your first shot would be awful— it’s been too long since you last played, you’re far too intoxicated to focus— and you’re not even sure it’s the alcohol.
His large form steps behind you as you feel the slightest hint of pudge in his round chest as his arms encircle you to hold the cue. Pressing your back against his chest as he moves your form on the table, keeping your arms apart and your legs spread until you feel it— unable to conceal the blatant moan that spills from your lips when you feel his semi press against the swell of your ass. And suddenly you don’t give a fuck about pool.
His stubble tickles the side of your face as he whispers “good girl” into your ear, his lips graze the shell of it before he pulls back as though nothing happened. The scent of his sweat mixed with whatever aftershave he’s wearing lingers around you as you use the length of the cue to keep yourself upright, shaking on wobbly heels as you lick your glossed lips.
And you’re certain you won’t survive as you watch him walk around the table to follow the white ball, leaning over the table as he takes aim and pots a red into the corner.
“So what do I get when I win?”
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l4zyb0n35 · 1 day
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HOLD ME AGAIN
ANGST-FLUFF FIC
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PAIRING: Alastor x Reader
SUMMARY: Alastor has been neglecting you recently ever since a fight, and it gets to you.
WARNINGS: GN!reader (i think), usage of Y/N, Emotional Distress, Mental Health Issues, Self Harm but not physical, Depiction of strained communication, Intense emotional scenes, Brief mention of Physical discomfort, Subtle mention of codependency, really good writing skills, Overall angst but major fluff at the end because you will never see me write angst w/o fluff. Lmk if i missed anything.
NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Based off this post i posted an hour ago. Damn that means this was written in an hour.
Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!
WORDS: 1.4k
〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*・゚♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~
You and Alastor loved each other.
That’s how it all began, too.
the two of you meeting, and at first sight, when those feelings sprawled in your hearts at eye contact,
you guys knew there was a connection.
So, what was happening now?
Well, you were sitting in bed…spacing out into the bayou. You couldn’t sleep because there was a light on, and it usually bothered you whenever you were going to sleep.
You were tired from today though.
But you couldn’t ask Alastor to turn it off, as he kept it on to sit in bed and write his script.
“…Alastor…how long are you going to be…writing your script tonight?” You looked over at him.
Nothing.
He ignored your question. His pen stopped writing for a moment, but nothing more than that as he continued on seconds later.
You felt like a failure.
When did this all start?
Alastor has been ignoring you for a while now- well- i wouldn’t say ignoring you…no, you’ve been feeling useless around him for a while.
It started after you guys had a fight about safety and how you were scared to lose him.
That was the topic.
It was settled, you forgave each other, Although he didn’t seem to forgive you deep down, you just needed to hear it.
And then he just started acting like this.
You hate comparing your relationship from before to now.
Alastor would stay in his office with the light on until he was done so you would sleep.
You would always conversate with Alastor before laying down for slumber.
Alastor would always know whenever you were upset, he would keep hearing about it until you burst.
“Hey.”
You snapped out your thoughts. You turned to Alastor,
“Yeah?”
“…You okay? You just…” He looked at your cheek and then back to your eye contact, “Have a tear down your cheek.”
“…I don’t know-no, it’s nothing.” You stammered out.
“…okay.” He went back to writing.
…You couldn’t stay here.
Quickly, you got up from your bed and walked over to the bathroom, trying to keep your composure as you closed the door and locked it.
You turned off the light,
Laid in the tub,
and slept.
***
You woke up to knocking.
“Y/N? Are you in there?”
Alastor.
You quickly sat up from the tub, “Coming, coming.” You stood up in a haste, ignoring the dizziness in your vision from it, and quickly opened the door.
“You look like a mess.” He said, furrowing his brows.
“I’m surprised you noticed for once.” You snapped back in a mumble, shuffling past him and over to your wardrobe.
“…Y/N.” Alastor said, making you stop in your tracks. “What has gotten into you, lately? You’ve been acting so strange, and now you just show me no manners whatsoever.” He said, stepping into the bathroom. “I expect better from you.”
…That bitch.
You quickly threw something on, (of your choice),
Took Alastor’s pillow, a picnic blanket,
And went off into the bayou.
It was quiet after a moment of entering, which pleased you.
You couldn’t hear the sink running from Al’s daily routine, nor the bustling sounds of the hotel from outside the door.
Only crickets, water, and leaves rustling.
You knew where you were heading, as well.
Alastor used to take you out to picnics in a certain spot a lot.
Before the fight.
And you haven’t gone since.
***
The walk calmed you down enough to settle down into the spot without recalling memories and seeing at the same time.
You set the blanket down, anchoring it with some rocks so the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and sat down in your usual spot, hugging the pillow to your chest as you closed your eyes, and daydreamed.
You were at a picnic with Alastor.
You were eating his mother’s dishes.
You were gossiping about cannibal town drama.
You were dusting off each other’s clothes after chasing each other in the Bayou.
You remember how much bruises and cuts you got from that ridiculous game.
“Y/N? What has gotten into you?” Alastor said from behind you.
You turned around to look at him.
“What do you mean?”
He scoffed, “First the bathroom and now far into the bayou. You could’ve gotten lost.”
You felt guilty now. Great.
“…Maybe if you just leave me alone, you wouldn’t have to worry so much.” You mumbled into the pillow.
He put his hands on his hips, “Y/N, it’s been 11 hours since you left the room to here i guess, how could i not worry.”
11 hours?
Now you felt the intense hunger in your stomach, the weight of your eyelids begging to close, the stiffness of your back.
“…Probably because you haven’t in a while, I supposed.” You said truthfully.
“…You’re acting like a child Y/N.” He said, walking around the blanket to look at you.
“…Can we talk, Alastor?” You said, clutching the pillow tighter.
“I feel like that would be best, yes we may.” He said, setting his cane down and sitting across from you on the blanket.
“…Why do you hate me?” You said, looking into the small lake next to you.
“…Hate you? I could never, why do you say that?” He said, clearly offended.
You held back a sob, “You…you never have conversation with me anymore and w-whenever i start one you just…blow it off…” You tried to keep your tears in as you finished your sentence.
After a moment of deafening silence with the crickets to keep you company, you looked up.
Alastor was frowning.
“…I-I know that’s just one thing, b-but,” You took a deep, shaky breath, “You…you also never check on me you…used to always freak out whenever i was upset, always harass me until i told you what was wrong- but now w-whenever i don’t t-tell you…i don’t know…you j-just blow it off as well…” You squeezed your eyes shut.
“…Y/N…” Alastor called out to you.
You didn’t answer.
“…Y/N…” You felt something block the breeze next to you.
And then, something rubbing your shoulder.
That’s when the dam burst.
You let out a sob sob into his pillow, feeling the relief of releasing all those tears, those breaths, the lump in your throat disappearing.
You cried even more when you didn’t feel warmth on your shoulder anymore.
Or when the breeze was back to blowing on you.
But only for a moment.
“Y/N, it’s cold,” Alastor draped his coat over you, “…Y/N…?”
You looked up at him.
He looked scared.
“…I’m sorry for crying Alastor…I-I just couldn’t hold it in…”
“-No, no,” he cut you off, “No, hey, I want you to let it out, okay?” He sat in front of you, and held his arms out.
You only looked at him, pathetically.
“…Come here, Y/N.”
Another sob broke out as you quickly crawled into his lap, discarding the pillow stained with your tears.
“…I’m so sorry Y/N…I’m so sorry i let all of this happen. It was never…never meant to be this way.” He said with an ache in his voice.
You only cried more at that.
And he only rubbed more at that.
He rubbed your back as sobs racked through it, he kissed your head as aches raged in it, and he only held you tighter every time he felt like you were going to slip away, recalling the memories he never thought would bring them here.
“…Am i making you uncomfortable, Alastor.”
“…I’m just uncomfortable with myself right now, darling.”
You squeezed him tighter.
“…I’m sure you’re hungry, no?” He sighed, picking up his cane as he stood up with and exhausted you in his arms.
He tapped it once, and both the blanket and pillow were held between your bodies, his jacket back over his body as well.
“Let’s go get some left overs.”
***
As the two of you arrived back to your room, Alastor set you down into the bed, putting the blanket and pillow away, and then walked back over to you.
“I’m going to get you a meal, okay?” He picked up your hand and kissed the palm of it.
“Don’t um…forget to smile.” You said just below a whisper, “…You aren’t smiling.”
He smiled softly.
“I’ll be right back.”
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END NOTES: If you cried, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! If you didn’t cry, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! This fic is just pent up rage from a manga i just read that had no happy ending and my life in general , but that’s okay. I don’t have anything to say. Sorry it’s short xx
-Lynn Lazybones
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MASTERLIST LINK
TAGLSIT: @deafsignifcantother (comment to be apart of it ^^)
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Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?😭
Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.
Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
And I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“
You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.
“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
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Emily x Reader after Reader has a sh relapse, Emily patches and her up and assures her she's still beautiful by slow, gentle, loving sex and lots of cuddling please?
You got it, anon! Thanks for the request! :) Hope you like it!
Burning
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Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, self-harm, depression, mental illness, sex, fingering, etc., injuries due to self-harm, brief mentions of an eating disorder, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: With Emily away on a case and a depressive episode hitting you hard, you fall back into a pattern you thought you'd kicked a long time ago. When she comes home and discovers what you've done, you're afraid it'll be too much for her. Emily does her best to show you that it's not.
You’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for what felt like hours, but was probably mere minutes. Time warped itself when the urges took hold, every second a lifetime of effort, until it became all the potential lives you might live stacked one on top of the other, and they were too heavy for you to carry.
The hand that held the unlit match was shaking, and you seesawed between the unbearable desire to scratch a painful itch and the knowledge that self-hatred that would flood you afterward. But at least the self-hatred and the pain would be something to feel, other than the abject hopelessness that had seemed to swallow you up over the last week.
You’d known a depressive episode was coming before Emily left. You could always feel them coming. But what were you supposed to say? Don’t go save people from a terrorist cell? Stay here with me because I’m scared I’m getting depressed and I need you? It’d be pathetic. You were pathetic. And it wasn’t Emily’s job to keep your mental illness at bay.
But she’d been gone longer than you expected–over a week now. And your depressive episode had hit you harder than you thought it would. You’d called out of work, you’d binged on food delivery, then hated yourself afterward, staring into the mirror feeling lower and lower and lower. Until the only way you could think to stop sinking was to shock yourself out of it.
You knew it wasn’t wise or healthy. You knew you’d feel even worse once the pain subsided. You knew that a relapse would make it that much harder to stop next time. You knew that if Emily was here, she would stop you, she would hide the matches and the lighters, she would be so, so sad that you’d even thought about hurting yourself.
But despite knowing all these things, the hunger for fire, for pain, was too much to resist. You scratched the head of the match against the matchbox and the flame leapt into existence. Your go-to spot in young adulthood had been your arms, but the burns wouldn't fade before Emily got back, and she’d notice them on your arms. This time, you held the match to the upper side of your abdomen, where your arms would hopefully hide the marks.
You scrunched your eyebrows and winced as the flame licked at your skin, the pain white and bright and hot. You wished you could explain to people that odd, addictive mixture of self-loathing and dopamine that hit you and made you feel simultaneously worse and better. You wished people understood the desire for it, that sometimes you wanted to feel worse because feeling worse made you feel better. But it was hard to explain. Even harder to understand. So you didn’t bother most of the time. You lit match after match until the box was empty, until your side was scattered with raised, red-white blotches, like a constellation of all the shitty things you’d ever been through or felt.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and hated what you saw. And it felt good to hate yourself, like a guilty pleasure.
You jumped at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, and cold panic flooded your system.
“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Emily called from the entryway.
You quickly pulled a loose t-shirt over your head, wincing as the fabric brushed over the burns. She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She hadn’t texted or called. She’ll hate me, you thought. She’ll hate me if she finds out.
Of course, Emily knew you struggled with self-harm. But you’d been in a really good spot when you’d started dating and had, for the most part, stayed in that really good spot for your entire relationship. You were in therapy. You had healthy coping mechanisms. You hadn’t relapsed in years. You didn’t know what had made today different from every other bad day in the last few years, but you knew you didn’t want Emily to know.
You silently cursed yourself for using all the matches; there were none left to light a candle in the bathroom to mask the scent of burning. You ran to meet her in the living room, hoping that by heading her off, the smell would have time to dissipate.
“Hi, honey,” you greeted her, forcing a smile. You took both her hands in yours to try and prevent her touching your side, which still felt as if it was on fire. You stood on tiptoes to kiss her, and she smiled, leaning in.
“I missed you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around you. You flinched and inhaled sharply as her fingers grazed the burns.
She furrowed her eyebrows. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I just, um… fell earlier.”
Her hands fluttered over you, a worried expression on her face. “You fell!? Where!? Like, how hard?”
“Not that hard,” you said, trying to squirm away. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. Ow!” Emily had placed a gentle hand at your side and you couldn’t help your outburst.
“Well, honey, if it hurts that bad, you need to let me see it. We might need to go to the ER or something.”
You knew you were done for when she grabbed your wrist, hard. Emily was much stronger than you, so instead of fighting, you went numb.
You felt your whole world stop as she lifted up your shirt to see the scattered burns. You felt tears prick at your eyes. There were too many marks, and they were too symmetrical to have been an accident. You knew it, and Emily knew it, too.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that her eyes were wet with tears she wasn’t going to let herself cry because you needed someone strong right now. If you’d looked at her, you would have seen a mixture of sadness and pity and heartbreak and undying love. You’d have seen the face of someone who wanted nothing more than for you to be okay.
“Y/N,” Emily managed after a moment. “Did you do this to yourself?”
You nodded, a tear rolling down your cheek.
“Today?”
You nodded again.
“How long ago?”
You looked at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry. “Right before you walked in.”
You hated yourself. You hated yourself even more because you knew that Emily would feel awful. She’d think that if she’d just been a few minutes earlier, she could have prevented this. And you never wanted Emily to feel like your mental illness was her fault or her responsibility.
“Come here,” she said, gently taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure the water was cool but not cold, then slowly pulled your clothes off. She nodded toward the shower and you got in, shivering under the chilly stream.
Emily sighed and sat down on the toilet lid, watching you. She looked tired, so tired. You hated to be another thing that exhausted her, another thing she had to take care of and fix.
“You should sit down,” she added quietly. “You’re gonna have to be in there for a while. Until they stop burning.”
You sat on the tiled floor, the water leaching the pain away from the burn marks, leaving only disgust and self-loathing in their place. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face, trying and failing not to cry.
Your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. You heard Emily stand and were sure she was going to leave. Why wouldn’t she? She deserved to. She deserved not to have to deal with you.
You jumped a little as Emily lowered herself into the shower next to you, clothes abandoned on the bathroom floor, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. She pressed her face into yours as the shower drenched you both.
“Shh,” she soothed, careful to avoid your burns. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, Em,” you wept, rocking. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she repeated. “You don’t need to be sorry. I love you. You’re gonna be okay.”
“I hate myself,” you whispered.
Emily gently grabbed your face and tilted it toward her. There were tears in her eyes, too. “Baby, please don’t say that.”
“I can’t help it.” Your voice was so quiet, so small, the sound of the shower almost drowned it out.
“That’s okay,” Emily said, brushing strands of wet hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay?”
You looked in her eyes then for the first time since she’d discovered the burn marks. You didn’t know what you’d expected to see: annoyance, disgust, hatred, or worst of all, ambivalence. But there was none of that in Emily’s eyes. Only love and concern.
Even so, you were scared to ask what you needed to ask. “Do you still love me?”
“Oh, honey, of course I do. I could never stop loving you.”
And then you kissed her. You kissed her with the cool water pouring down around your bodies. With your skin hot from the burns and from your aching love for Emily. You kissed her desperately, hungrily, like someone clinging to a lifeboat, and Emily was. She was your lifeboat. And for Emily’s part, she was gentle, almost too gentle, as if you might break at any moment.
You wrapped your legs and arms around her and she held you so carefully, so mindful of your burns. You shuddered in the cool water as your hips pushed against her.
Emily moaned into your mouth, her hands faltering for a moment.
“Y/N,” she said breathlessly, pulling away to hold your face in her hands. “We don’t have to do this." She looked at you a moment longer, then added, "I love you.”
You kissed her again. Her mouth. Her forehead. Her collarbone. Emily’s chest heaved into you and your heart beat rapidly.
“Please,” you begged. “Show me.”
Emily pulled you into her, letting her tongue and her lips roam over your neck, letting her hips meet yours as the water surrounded you, soothing your burns the way Emily soothed the roiling, burning despair inside of you.
“I love you,” she whispered as she kissed your eyelids. “I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her hands into the soft flesh of your ass. “I love you,” she whispered as she slipped her fingers inside of you. You bit back a moan and trembled against her, your body pulsing around her.
She fucked you slowly, tenderly, as if it was both your first time and your last, though this was neither. And she kept saying it–“I love you”–again and again, never stopping, so that all the darkness in your mind, all the self-doubt, didn’t have any room to make itself heard.
You let out a strangled groan as your body tensed around her, and when your pleasure flooded you, it was like you were on fire. And this fire was so much better, louder, brighter, than any flame you’d ever held to your body. It was a burning that consumed you, one that would leave you new and glistening afterward instead of scarred and in ashes.
You fell limp against her as she removed her fingers, kissing your forehead, your collarbone, your mouth, swirling her tongue with yours until you felt drunk on her. “I love you,” she said, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of hearing it. “I love you.”
You were quiet as she turned off the shower head. Quiet as you both dried off, as Emily gently pressed a towel to your side, making sure your burns were clean and dry. She sat you on the toilet lid as she pulled gauze squares and antibacterial ointment out of the bathroom cabinet, spreading the ointment on the gauze, then pressing it gently to your skin.
“Lift your arms up,” she said quietly, as she circled your body with bandages, wrapping it just tight enough that it wouldn’t shift in the night.
She knelt down in front of you and caressed your face. “Bed?” she asked. You nodded.
“You go ahead,” she said, patting your leg. “I’ll be right there.”
You felt self-doubt start creeping back in as you laid in bed on top of the covers, your burns still too hot to sleep underneath. When Emily came into the room, she carried a glass of water and a bottle of pills.
“Take these,” she told you, handing you a few. You drank and swallowed obediently.
She lay down in the bed and motioned you over. “Come here and let me hold you.”
You rested your face in the crook of her neck, and she played with your hair, careful to avoid your burns.
“I love you,” she whispered after a few minutes, kissing the top of your head.
“You said.” You meant it to be funny, but your heart wasn’t in it. Not yet.
“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”
You were quiet for a minute, then spoke. “I love you, too, Em.” You nuzzled your way closer to her, hoping against hope that her arms around you were enough to keep the darkness and the numbness away for the night.,
And as you drifted off, she kept saying it–“I love you.” And then a kiss on your head.
As your eyelids fluttered closed–“I love you.” And she pressed her face to your forehead.
As your breath slowed and evened, and your body went limp–“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
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Juri, Cammy, and Ibuki reacting to their S/O casually walking in with severe injuries and when asked they respond: "Tis but a scratch"
I absolutely LOVED writing this, it really let me go all kinds of crazy, especially with Cammy's part, allowed me to tap into the more unhinged side of my writings.
Now, that aside, your wish is my command!
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When you barged into the garage, drenched in blood, and looking like you just walked out of being a no name extra in a Tarantino film who existed only to be shot, stabbed, and otherwise beaten to death, Juri was rightfully concerned.
Doubly so when you started tearing the place apart and asked, in a voice that was WAY to calm for someone who was in the condition you were in “Where the crowbar was”.
Now, Juri likes to think she is a pretty brave lady.
I mean, she’s done all kinds of crazy things that have her skating the edge between life and death before.
Right now however, she got the feeling that she wanted no part of what was going on with you right now.
It also didn’t help that she was more than a little bit scaroused by this.
So, she handed you the crowbar and asked.
“So… you… uh… good?”
“Never been better! Why do you ask?” you responded as a pool of blood started to form under your feet.
“Well all of… that.” Juri stated as she gestured to all of you with her hands.
“Oh don’t worry, it's not mine. Most of it at least.Tis but a scratch! As they say.  Anywho! I’ll be back before dinner! Love you!” You exclaimed as you turned on your heel and walked out from the way you came, leaving Juri standing in the middle of the garage.
“Yup, definitely scaraoused.” Juri declared to herself before turning on her heel to return to what she was doing beforehand.
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Cammy was not the type of person who shook easy.
However, the person she loved bursting into the home the two of you shared, drenched in blood and covered in wounds, was more than enough to leave her… concerned.
Doubly so when you took a kitchen knife and made your way back the way you came.
Luckily, she managed to catch up to you beforehand.
“Oh! Heya Cammy! How are you doing dear?” you asked her, completely ignoring your wounds.
“I’m doing… fine. How about you?” Cammy asked, deeply concerned for your state right now.
“Doing great! And don’t worry about all this, Tis but a scratch!” you exclaimed with a smile as you moved to move past Cammy who stopped you.
“How about… we take a little trip to the hospital first!” Cammy suggested as she wrapped her hand around you and gently took the knife out of your hand.
“Oh, okay, but I… I uh… I had something to do first, there was this blonde guy in a mask, a real weird guy. Had this claw, real, real strange.” You muttered, the blood loss already getting to you.
“Yeaaah… we’re gonna be taking a nice little trip to the hospital. They’ll have jello!” Cammy exclaimed as she wrapped her arms to guide you out the door.
“Ooh! Jello!” you happily stated with a smile.
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The last thing Ibuki expected to see after finishing her training for the day was you, covered in blood, a knife sticking out of your back, knuckles bleeding heavily, blood pouring down the side of your face, and you carrying a metal bat as you walked down the street.
Ibuki, being a semi-normal person and excellent girlfriend, found this a tad concerning, and so, decided she should probably check up on you.
“Uh… hey there.” Ibuki greeted, the concern in her voice completely unmissable.
“Hey Ibuki! How’s it going?” You asked, paying absolutely no mind to the condition you were in at the moment.
“Good… it's uh… going good. You know you have a knife in your back right?” she asked you, growing more and more concerned with each passing second.
“Yup! Hurts like you wouldn’t believe! But don’t worry, Tis but a scratch! Now, if you’ll excuse me! I have some ruffians to finish speaking to in this parking Garage.” you happily exclaimed before walking into said Parking Garage.
Shortly following this, Ibuki heard the sound of a metal bat cracking open someone’s skull and a scream of pain, followed by the sound of a metal bat breaking bones, and just causing a great deal of unpleasantness to a fairly large group of people.
A very short ten minutes later, you walked out of the Parking Garage, your formerly pristine bat now blooddrenched and dented in several places.
“Now then Ibuki, what were we talking about before?” you asked, a massive smile on your face.
“I… think we were talking about… going to the hospital!” Ibuki exclaimed.
“Really? Well then! Let's go!” you declared joyously.
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anonymouse5 · 2 days
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could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader
i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,
if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me
ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY
hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3
(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)
here you go:
Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?
Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.
It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.
Nope. It just gets worse.
You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.
“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.
But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.
“Wait,” he calls.
Despite yourself, you turn to him.
“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.
You bite back your immediate “yes”.
“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.
He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.
“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”
“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.
“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.
Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.
“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.
“Just trust me,” James says.
You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.
He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.
“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.
The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.
“It worked then?” he asks.
You give him a thumbs up.
He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:
You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?
There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES
You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.
The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.
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heello do you have any tips for noobie artists? ur art is just so very neat to me :) plz never stop arting
Never do what I do unless it is drawing all the time
Use references!! Always use them!!! Seriously please use references never let a stupid little rat in your ear take that away from you, they are always so valuable
If you see art you like, don’t be afraid to basically try recreating the same exact thing. All you have to do is not claim it as youre own, and better yet don’t post it online! It’s for practice, people don’t need to see practice in the end it’s only for you
Tracing is NOT wrong. I’m tired of people saying ohhh tracing is bad don’t do it ITS LITERALLY NOT!!!! Just don’t trace over someone else’s work/images and claim it as your own it’s that easy. If youre struggling with hands take photos of your hands and trace over it! Break them down into simple forms until you have an understanding of them in a meaningful way!
Do some studies of specific things. Struggling with leg anatomy? Draw a page full of legs, just push and pull and scribble and see what works, study images and see how you can reproduce it or stylize it
Never feel like you need to find your own art style immediately, that task is practically impossible. Everything comes from something, be inspired by others take little art bits from styles you like and only then can you create your own style!! (I mean dawg my style can be broken down into adventure time, owl house, invader zim, gooseworx, eddsworld, sr pelo, a few others im probably forgetting)
Don’t worry about broadcasting your work, not everyone needs to know all that you draw, the internet can be a hateful place and it really does suck a lot but also try not to rely on strangers online for support on everything you do, I know it is hard and that approval feel good I cannot deny it but remember to keep some stuff for yourself, a little treat where nobody can criticize you :)
Try to draw everyday! Or having a sketchbook where you make it a goal to completely fill 2 pages a week, and if that’s too much then just some doodles! Art takes a lot of constant practice, and there’s really nothing more fun than just having a little sketchbook with you where you draw random stuff all the time. When I was doing that I would make 2 page mini invader zim comics
I feel like a bit of a hypocrite because I do maybe 1 of these things but i know they are really good, I have done them before and they were super helpful! But in the end I think the best you could do is just keep at it! Don’t let people get you down, do your own thing, break rules if you want, it’s all art and art is AWESOME!!!!!!!
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vaedis · 2 days
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my goodbye’s to The Bad Batch.
Tech,
your mind is beautiful, and your heart is just as radiant. your selflessness is inspiring, and your drive for knowledge makes me want to know more. some may say that you are stuck up, but i see how much you truly love your family. you may process things differently than others, but you are worthy of the exact same love. i wish i could see your mind process more, i hope that you’re happy. may there be infinite knowledge where you are. you deserve the very best. i love you.
Wrecker,
you inspire me to be strong enough to be gentle. you have a beautiful soul, you make me laugh, and you are worthy of every delicious meal. you have protected your family well, and you have managed to do it with a smile on your face. i’m so proud of you for holding them together. i hope that wherever you end up, it is filled with laughter, full plates, and more excitement than you can wrap your head around. i love you.
Crosshair,
you are so worthy of love, never doubt yourself or your abilities. even if things aren’t necessarily the way they used to be, you are still worthy of love. i see the ways that you care for your family, and you are anything but a cold sniper. i am so proud of you for overcoming everything, even the things you don’t speak about, despite how difficult that may have been for you. i hope that you find rest, i hope that you heal, and i hope that you are happy. you deserve the best, Cross. i love you.
Omega,
you are such a light to your family. never doubt that, and never forget it. your brothers love you so so much, you have given them purpose. you changed them; you have done the best thing that anyone could have done for them. never forget how much you matter. you are so intelligent, beautiful, strategical, and you show so many positive traits of your brothers. there is such a wonderful purpose for you in this huge galaxy. never stop exploring, sweet girl. i love you.
Echo,
you have seen and overcome so much, and you have done an incredible job by remaining kind despite it all. you have always been a good soldier, and i hope that you never forget that. your wisdom, strength, and courage are inspiring. you are worthy of so many gentle and kind things. you work to make things right, and that is such an honorable trait to possess. anyone would be lucky to have you in their corner. i love your heart. i hope that you find the peace that you deserve, you are a good man. you deserve a happy ending. i love you.
Hunter,
you have been a good Sergeant; any team would be lucky to have you at the head. you have led your squad well, and i am so proud of you. never forget how loved you are. never forget how much they love you, and look up to you, and care about you. even when you think that the pressure is alone on your shoulders, you are never alone. the bad things were never your fault. you have grown into an honorable man, putting your family above it all. you have learned so much and come so far, and i am so grateful to have seen you change throughout the journey. you deserve peace, rest, and happiness. i hope that you are happy, wherever you are. i love you.
Clone Force 99 / The Bad Batch,
i love you all so much. i can’t believe that i’m saying goodbye to you all. you have made me feel so seen, you have made me feel like i’m not alone. the way that you love each other is so special; never forget to love each other above it all. look after your family, and honor those who have fallen. you have all been good soldiers, and even better men (and girl). i salute you, and i love you all. may the force be with you.
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mxtxfanatic · 2 days
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sorry if you're done talking about it and don't want to discuss it anymore, but for me the 'trolley problem' post was just a sad note about how xie lian's attempts to stop "the trolley" (who always has a name and we very well know about it) end up in a disaster. not because xie lian did it, but because the trolley is actually an unstoppable force with malicious intent and no one else gives a fuck or doesn't have resources to help
but xie lian also shows us that even if things end up like that, it's worth trying. it's worth it, because you might not save everyone, but might save a child. a village. a little boy. a little girl. but if you don't do anything, you'll never know
I’m gonna go ahead and link this addition to my original commentary plus this response that I had in the notes to someone else with a similar reading of that post:
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All I can say is that some of y’all are nicer readers than I, because I took that post to mean exactly what op said. If op came back and clarified something, I didn’t see it; I’m only talking about the original post and how inappropriate it is to 1) victim-blame a victim of the events in question for apparently having the audacity to not passively accept events he could influence for the better and 2) say this as a “joke” (because the blasé tone, minimalization of the actual events, overexaggeration of the victim’s responsibility for how said events turned out, and the flat-out avoidance to name what was the actual cause of everything that happens to make it into a meme format was fully meant to be taken as a “joke”).
The issue both with the trolley problem and the likening of it to the events of tgcf is that neither the trolley nor anything Xie Lian experienced are “unstoppable forces.” The trolley is not a natural disaster or the act of an omnipotent god: it is just a trolley. And not only is it just a trolley, it is a trolley that was made, owned, driven, and maintained by people. Everything that goes into a scenario where a trolley is on track to run over a crowd of people (tied to the tracks, another thing that is decidedly not a natural occurrence), is one that is 100% manufactured by multiple different people.
Likewise, while the Yong’an drought was a natural disaster, everything that led to the fall of Xianle was 100% the machinations of multiple different parties, from the rich nobility of both Xianle and Yong’an hoarding their wealth, the corrupt officials who stole aid, the corrupt religious officials who blocked Xie Lian’s followers from praying to him, Guoshi and the king for keeping all of this from Xie Lian, and to the other heavenly officials who withheld help with the intent to prey on the victims of the disaster. Jun Wu’s contribution could honestly be considered the least in this conversation, merely serving as the wind fanning the flames of a fire that had already started. None of that was a coincidence nor the fault of anything Xie Lian did or attempted to do.
Yes a big part of tgcf is recognizing that Xie Lian’s steadfastness to helping should be a personal goal, but another big message that mxtx pushes in all her works is that 99% of all societal problems can be tracked down to a few select individuals choosing to do evil because they don’t think that their greed, selfishness, insecurities, fears, or entitlements are a bad thing while most everyone else either looks the other way because “it’s not my problem,” tries to benefit because “why let opportunity go to waste?” or actively participate because mob mentality. Mocking good people for doing good under these circumstances will never be funny, sympathetic, or relatable to me.
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sadevergreen · 1 year
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a very productive meeting i’m sure
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zeb-z · 6 months
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missa, after his self resentment and lamenting about how he doesn’t feel worthy or like he should be accepted, after telling himself and the capybaras that he doesn’t have a home, not really - after all is said and done, he returns to phil & missa, leaving his mini mi in the house on the wall. as if he’d consider anywhere other than the house he shared with phil safe enough. seeking out safety and home brought him right back where he started.
something about how despite his internal conflicts and issues about what he thinks he deserves, he’ll still come back. and for all he worries that he is not enough to be loved in return, his name is still on the warp stone.
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lostryu · 10 months
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“stop worrying about bi lesbians! worry about trans rights being lost in america!”
first of all, i am actually smart enough to realize that there are multiple issues and address all of them. second of all, where the fuck were you when SB-180 passed in kansas? if you’re so concerned about trans rights, maybe you guys should put your money where your mouth is and start putting in the work; instead of sitting around with ur thumb up your ass being lesbophobic as hell!
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donnatroyyyy · 1 year
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Batman has/had some kind of miscommunication going on with every single one of his kids. The bat family is just one big miscommunication trope after the other.
#him and Dick have miscommunication about how they see each other. Bruce sees Dick as a son and Dick sees Bruce as a father#but they didn’t think the other saw them that way so they never told each other. that’s what led to their fights in Dick’s later teenage#years and dick quitting and becoming nightwing. he thought Bruce only saw him as a ward/robin so he thought that as long as he couldn’t be#robin Bruce wouldn’t want him#and if didn’t help when Bruce stopped talking to him when he left. though to Bruce it was because he thought Dick didn’t want to talk to him#and also Dick really needs to tell Bruce like ‘hey you put me on a higher pedestal then you put even yourself which is saying something and#and I don’t like that cuz that’s too much pressure for me. and also since you did it everyone else does it and has done it since I was Robin#and it’s literally just a matter of time before I break from the pressure cuz I’m not fucking Superman and I can’t take it’#and Jason with the whole UTRH thing. you know all Bruce had to say was that he had tried killing the joker over Jason multiple times and#maybe just explain to Jason WHY he doesn’t kill. a simple ‘you’re better than me because if I killed one person I’d kill everyone’#or it could even just be a simple ‘I do love you Jason youre the kid that I felt most comfortable loving’#and also maybe a ‘I don’t think anything changed after my death and that makes my death meaningless which I think goes against your no kill#rule because I hat is the rule of not a reminder taht death means something. and by that logic my death already went against the rule so why#can’t you do it again for the man that murdered me.’ and Bruce needs to make a presentation: ‘all the ways Jason’s death meant something’#and Tim just needs a simple ‘I don’t see you as work I see you as family.’ maybe even a ‘you don’t have to be the grown up in this relati#anymore I’m sorry you were one to begin with. you should’ve always been the child’#now his miscommunication with Damian goes much deeper but I’m one hundred percent sure if they sit down and air out all of their feelings it#would help a lot but I have a feeling that won’t happen#a ‘I have trouble understanding you because both your trauma and compassion run deeper than mine and I also never had to grow up to be a#weapon’ from Bruce and a ‘I don’t understand your optimism and moral stubbornness and easness why is it so easy to be good for u?’#his miscommunication with Cass stems from two things a simple ‘why are you so afraid to show how deeply you love?’ from Cass maybe a#‘I’m jealous of you because you’re better than me not only in fighting but morally and emotionally’ from Bruce should fix it#and Steph— look I’m not even going to TRY to get into that that goes SO much deeer and wider than any one else’s miscommunication#but maybe a ‘you reminded me of Jason at a time where that wasn’t a good thing’ from Bruce should start things up#for Duke a ‘I can never truly understand what you’re going/have gone through and for that I’m sorry’ from Bruce should suffice#maybe also Bruce telling him that just because he sees Duke as a son doesn’t mean he’s trying any less to get Duke his parents back#oh and babs just needs to go up to him and say ‘I don’t like that what happened to me happened for your story and not mine and I don’t like#that you don’t let me make it into my story’ and then Bruce can follow up and say ‘I see so much of myself in you and it makes me worry and#also I can never look at you without feeling guilty cuz you’re right what happened to you happened for MY story so I’m at fault’#then the two can go back to being too much like each other and sitting at their respective computers
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